Cod Almighty | Article

by Sue Firth

13 August 2024

One man bestrides Blundell Park across eternity. He's the Da Vinci of defending, the Picasso of the Pontoon, the most magnificent of Mariner men downing those flying wingers. He's John McDermott, the most comforting blanket ever devised. Let's start the campaign now: put a blue plaque on the back post.

As the oldest member of the Cod Almighty team it seems appropriate that I should write about John McDermott, the longest-serving member of the 21st Century XI. The only player to have played continuously for Grimsby in three different decades, he made his debut against Bradford in 1987 and was playing in the first Town game I saw back in April 1990. The surprise is that he continued to play for the next 17 seasons. It has become unusual in modern football for a player to spend his entire career – from youth team to retirement – at one club, which is why Macca's record of 754 appearances for Town will never be beaten. He is also apparently one of only 17 players in English football to have made over 600 league appearances for the same club.

Back in 2005 Paul Thundercliffe interviewed him for CA and asked about remaining at Grimsby for his whole career. Macca admitted that he'd had interest, even offers, over the years from a number of clubs, including Ipswich, Sunderland, Hull and Bradford. There was a tinge of regret when talking about the possible Bradford move as it was just before they were promoted to the Premier League but then he reflected that "if I had moved I wouldn't have played at Wembley". He cites the area and the good rapport with fans among his reasons for staying, summing it up as follows: "Getting paid a decent wage is another factor. I wouldn't say mega money but the cost of living is good. I am happy on and off the field, so why move? We were playing in the first division and we were playing good football and, at the end of the day, it's about enjoying your football."

Asked to pick his own 'best' eleven from people he'd played alongside, he couldn't quite manage to narrow it down completely and went for: Davison, Handyside, Lever, Croft, Gilbert, Groves, Dobbin, Childs, Donovan, Mendonca, Woods, Rees. I he didn't need to tackle: he just needed to bespent quite a while pondering why he hadn't picked a right-back before the penny dropped! His favourite manager was obviously Alan Buckley, but in his autobiography It's Not All Black and White he was also complimentary about Lennie Lawrence. Macca praises Lawrence for being ahead of his time for introducing fitness monitoring, diet control, sports science and research on the opposition, and credits these ideas as being crucial to the longevity of his own playing career.

Back in 2015, in conjunction with the compiling of the book We Are Town: Writings By Grimsby Fans 1970 – 2002, another vote was held among fans to establish the favourite players from that period for a Great Grimsby XI. It will be no surprise to anyone that Macca also made that team. Writing about him for the book Tony Butcher said that he "didn't need to tackle: he just needed to be. The quintessential Macca moment is him ducking under the left winger, easing and teasing the overbearing giant to overbalance and squawk high and wide with the goal seemingly agape. Every game, every time."

Macca was profiled by CA writers a number of times in the early 2000s.

In 2002 he was summed up thus: "he rarely seems to tackle but it's very rare for a player to get the better of the great man. Is it his reading of the game? Maybe it's the way he seems to shepherd a player away from his flank? His passing is assured, neat, tidy. You'll struggle to find a better full-back going forward. His crossing is smart. And when he gets the chance he can really smack a shot in."

In 2004 there was a suggestion that it might be his last season because "injuries have begun to take their toll on his little stumpy legs, and man can only hold the entire defence together for so long."

In 2005 the lament was that "he has lost some pace, but he has made up for it by his positioning and anticipation. He also looks very fit and has previously been praised for his professional approach to the game and personal preparation (this is a managerial metaphor for not drinking like a fish and spending Friday night in a nightclub before having a kebab for breakfast). Frankly, he often looked our best defender last year, except when the ball was played behind him and he was forced to turn and chase a guy half his age." There was again the suggestion that the season might be his last with the admonition to "savour every moment that John is on the field of play this season. An era is ending in front of your very eyes."

In 2006 it was said he "defends without tackling. It's like Darth Vader choking without touching. And he's not afraid of running off down the wing to get in a cross, too." He was also commended for having "never been booed by those cockheads who single out every other Town player at one time or another for their vitriol merely because their own lives are empty and their bellies too full of beer. In Grimsby, praise doesn't come much higher than that." Unfortunately my clearest memory of Macca in a game is the own goal at Norwich

There is definitely a theme in these writings concerning Macca's ability to defend without appearing to tackle.

His seemingly effortless way of dealing with attackers must be why I have very few memories of any actual tackles he made. My overriding picture of his defending has him standing on the goal line to the right of the keeper at corners ready to boot the ball away should it come near him.

Unfortunately, though, my clearest memory of Macca in a game is the own goal he scored at Norwich in February 2000 which CA's match report describes thus: "the unmarked McDermott, about eight yards out and facing his own goal, produced an immaculate diving header inside Coyne's left-hand post.”

Macca did also score a few goals for Town, the most spectacular must be the one against Rushden and Diamonds in August 2005, the description of which might just rival the goal itself for hyperbole:

"A throw-in to Town on the right, 30 yards out. Exciting. McDermott chucked it to Reddy and the ball ballooned off the riverdancer back towards Macca, who raced forward and chested the ball on. The clouds parted; the sun beamed a single shaft of light to the turf upon which the hallowed one hovered. The crowd rose: we could see the future and it was macca-nificent, for within 0.674 seconds we would see cherubim and seraphim trumpeting the glory. About 25 yards way off to the right His Maccaness the McDermott bazookered a whipping, dipping volley over Young and into the top right corner: the perfect parabola from the perfect player. The crowd were in a holding pattern six feet above the terraces, with a cry of joyful wonderment sending a shockwave out towards Pleasure Island which flattened a family of four from Rotherham as they sat down to eat some fish fingers. Macca roared along the touchline pursued by the entire team, eleven dentists from the Main Stand, the inhabitants of Neville Street, and an ice cream van playing Tubular Bells. At that moment humanity reached Nirvana. Wasn't it a breaking news item on Radio 5? Nevermind."

In May 2007 the oft-anticipated moment arrived and John McDermott played his last game of professional football against Shrewsbury at Gay Meadow. Coincidentally it was also the last game played at that stadium before it was demolished. Quite fitting in its way. I was fortunate enough to be there on a jolly with the entire CA squad – a truly memorable occasion. Not because of the game itself – though an equaliser with the last kick of the game is always satisfying – but because we had the opportunity to celebrate the career of a true Grimsby Town legend; to see him deservedly applauded off the pitch by both sets of players and fans.

In a perfect world Macca would have continued his time at Town by taking on a coaching role but the souring of his relationship with the then owner following his abortive move to Hull in 2003 (which I won't dwell on here) meant that it was not to be. But who knows what the future might hold in the brave new world of Stockwood and Pettitt.

Illustration courtesy of Alex Chilvers