Cod Almighty | Match Report

by Tony Butcher

4 December 2024

Shall we just on with it? Far too cold for faffing about

Town lined up as follows: Wright, Cass, Rodgers, McJannet, Hume, McEachran, Luker, Green, Davies, Svanthorsson, Obikwu. The substitutes were Auton, Thompson, Tharme, Ainley, Khouri, Barrington and Rose. How on earth do we expect to score with that lot?

If you expect nothing you’ll never be disappointed.

1st half – Jingle all the way
Town kicked off towards the Osmond.

Foul throw! 25 seconds. Or was it 24? In all this excitement I kinda lost count. Hibbling-bibbling, Town bubbling. Davies lobbed, Obikwu stumble-headed, Luker scampled and scruffled straight at Crellin.

More of this or that right here, right now. Hume coiled a corner to the near post, flicks were flicked, Rodgers rotated and riffled through the blue hedge past the static keeper and personally apologised to each and every Stannerman slumped in the dark recesses.

Instead of a big dark blur, I see a big light blur! One hundred seconds of sexyballing.

Things, movement, swinging and swaying, someone shot and someone cried, no-one could afford to close their eyes. There's something stirring in the neighbourhood.

Triangulations and strangulations down by the Police Box. Hume humming, pumping and dumping a perfect pass to the far flung Luker, unhindered by mice or men. A shimmy, a shake and Luker carefully caressed around blue toes and yellow fingers into the bottom right corner of the goal.

Percussive passes, balletic batterings, stripes sauntering past the wretched wraiths from the west. That's another fine mess you've gotten yourself in Stanley! Knowles knocked his own knees down a dark cul-de-sac, blindly splitting his own defence. Obikwu wandered lonely as a cloud and rolled through Crellin akimbo.

Twenty minutes, three goals.

Them. A free kick into the wall and over the bar, crosses into the Pontoon and Wright skiffled a cross-shot whacker away. That is all. It's playtime.

A waltz in the park, a rumba in the jungle, a foxtrot up the Humber. Svanthorsson could have danced all night if it wasn't for that pesky blue boot legging him up as he entered the penalty area. Davies stroked rightly as Crellin crumbled to his left.

Thirty minutes, four goals. Get out the abacus, here comes a positive goal difference!

Stunned and stung, the ailing Accymen did a double subbing. This perked them up no end. Step into the world of Rawson, their blue bandanaed ninja turtle at the back, a natural-born leader who embodies honour, responsibility, and the occasional feeling of being overwhelmed. Or is he just an occasional table?

The replacement buses stopped the rot through simply stopping being rotten. And kicking the nearest stripe as hard as they could.

Three minutes added. Could have scored, didn't.

The draw is in the bag.

2nd half – How to spoil your own party
Rose replaced Obikwu at half time.

How we doin'? Same as always. That bad, huh?

Tharme replaced Rodgers.

Is there any point to this? Blue shirts moving. Blue socks kicking. Fingers getting blue.

A pass, a move, stripes sweeping majestically across the plains like wildebeest. And the Denver Boot shin-swept over.

Green muffed a pass, Hume dawdled, Henderson whacked. Facts.

Anger, fear, aggression. The dark side are they. Once you start down the dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny. Green and Davies were replaced by Thompson and Ainley.

When was Dadi's volley? During the game. It wimped wide, we limped on, just waiting for it all to end.

A mystery free kick, a coiling clip, a blue head thwonked and Wright's fantabulous fingers flipped the ball onto the face of the crossbar. Wee Janet swept under the carpet as blue boots waggled. Blue pressure, blue shots, blue corners. Stripers streaking forward, Luker lurked, Rose rolled across the face of goal and Aljofree stepped in front of Svanthorsson to tap in from a foot out. Can we survive with five?

Khouri replaced Hume.

And back to square one. And back to square one. And back to square one and on and on. Wright passed to unmolested Cass who brilliantly intercepted the pass meant for him and set Woods free to wrap around and over Wright.

This is silly, can we go home now please?

Rose wiggled nicely into a traffic jam. A cross across between the lot. Svanthorsson was dredged one more time and three minutes were added. Probably. The probability of anything more happening is as low as the temperature.

All that jazz and it ends on such a down note. I mean, that's what life is, a series of down endings. All the second half had was a bunch of Muppets..