Cod Almighty | Match Stats

Saturday 3 May 2025

Division 4

Grimsby Town 0

Wimbledon 1 Hutchinson (52)

Attendance: 8,369 (1,146 away fans)

As everyone else went on a sentimental journey the Master Mariner sailed serenely through his last day at work, rolling with waves of joy without putting a foot wrong, or a foot on the pitch during play.

Gorgeous George was the only outfielder to really match the moment with the required desire, intensity and mental fortitude but, despite his wayward kicking in that wayward wind, Jake the Peg was blameless for the goal and all round alert to those fleeting moments of danger.

Big Dave's a bit down as Town stay down in the bottom barrel, but don't go thinking he's wasting our time, for one of these days we're going to get it right. Today was just one of those days where it didn't go right:

"The wind obviously played a part but it wasn't about the ref…It was a moments game and whoever got their noses in front was probably going to see out the game…I can't say the better team won, but we didn't do enough today."

Our mighty Mariner looks down upon his season's works and doesn't despair, he only sees things to repair:

"Ifs, woulds, should've, could've don't mean anything to us right now…we don't want to feel like this again, ever. We've come up short but we've come a long way."

OK, what's next?

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Yeah yeah, the officially silenced Cockernee Sparrow sat up in the rafters and chirped out exactly the buzzwords what you'd expect – pleased, proud, great bunch of lads, finish the job. Johnnie Boy Jackson's pleased, proud, proudly pleased.

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This was a performance like so many at home this season. It's why the playoffs were a bridge too far. Big sides can wear us down and await the set piece, and that's just what they did. They did their homework.

Wimbledon cut off the information superhighway to McEachran, blocked off the road to Hume and forced Town to lump it or pass it to Warren's left foot. Town had neither the size, the speed, nor the nous to work out what to do next. There was simply no alternative.

We could moan, we could groan, but what's the point, the big picture remains the same. There's nothing new and it's all over now. The whole is greater than the sum of its parts, and if any part malfunctions the whole thing collapses.

Town've done very well the end up ninth, all things considered, given the individual flaws. Let's be happy with that and just see what happens next. The summer signings breeze may make us feel fine.

Tall lads, chunky lads, a couple of fast lads, just a big bunch of big lads. They even had bigger balls, beach balls.

The Wombles are organised and work as a team, the Wombles are tidy, but I can't say they're clean. They were quite prepared to dredge and drumble where and when necessary. In short, they played long and played the long game, waiting for Town to nod off so they could nod in.

Athletically superior, tactically cuter. Did what they needed to do.

We're not angry, just disappointed at the disjointed denouement.

Mr R Joyce

Unfortunately our old chum Rossy had no intention of spoiling the occasion with a mad game-changing decision. Sure, sure, he was imperfect with a couple of obvious howlers and a permanently blind eye to outrageous throws most foul, but we're not angry, just disappointed that he was hum-drummingly and bog-standardly average. We can't blame him for our own inadequacies: 6.995

A team who can't attack beat a team who won't defend.

In a word: waning