Cod Almighty | Match Report

by Sarah Barber

8 December 2024

First of all, this season's festive quiz. Which of these events, possible in 2024-25, is likely to happen first: your north-west correspondents get season tickets and get to watch Grimsby Town versus Morecambe; your correspondents get to watch Scunthorpe United versus Morecambe; or Morecambe's purchase finally goes through, investment pours in and your correspondents are back watching them play Lincoln City?

You may think that Cleethorpes is a funny ol' place. It may just be that the scenery of your schooldays sears into the brain and you can't conceive of a seaside town attached to a larger town and boasting a lower-division football club in any other way. But if you had the money and the opportunity, I don't think you'd come up with Morecambe, Lancashire, or its Globe/Mazuma 'stadium'. Nevertheless, powered by the fortune-cookie on wheels that is the funny little blue car and the prospect of hurricane-force winds forecast for the start of the second half, your roving reporters gave it one last try.

Town lined up in a 4-1-4-1 formation as follows: Wright, Hume, McJannet, Rodgers, Cass, Thompson, SvanǷórsson, McEachran, Green, Luker, Obikwu. Davies, Barrington, Ainley, Khouri, Rose, Tharme and Auton were on the bench.

First half: Karaoke in the away end
Town faced away from the sea and towards the home Halo Stand. Nothing to do with celestial light. It's a laboratory service providing a 'ring of confidence' (didn't someone else do that first?) for the aerospace industry and some sponsorship for a cash-strapped football club.

In terms of possession, it was a 50:50 sort of a half – and game – and in the first half, Morecambe had slightly more than half the possession. The stats even said that they'd passed with greater accuracy. Maybe the driving rain misted up our eyes. Maybe the swirling wind across the pitch turned those red home strips into a rosy glow. The wind blustered. The rain soaked. But seated fans in five layers of Motty weather-proofing and standing fans in tee-shirts surfed the storms, jumping to the strains of Tequila Obikwu, watched Town play some mighty football.

Goals first (you'll have seen the highlights): both very similar and typical of Town's play in this half. Our now rock-solid defence collected the ball, played it out, captain Kieran Green powered through midfield and weighted balls perfectly in the 25th and 39th minutes to put through Obikwu. His first goal was accurately placed from a tight angle (rapidly becoming a Justin special) and the second was chipped over the keeper. However, in a team that did not put a foot wrong for 45 minutes, let's take time to praise the midfield dominance and control of Thompson and McEachran; the latter all over the pitch, so small and fast that no-one got near him. And a man so hard no base layer was necessary, Denver Hume had a magic, deft touch, could not be blown over in the gales and won every header – as did the defence collectively.

Two minutes of added time – can we have some more? – and for only 49% possession it was a party of gorgeousness and no-one minded that their tea was cold.

Second half: Not quite a tsunami
Town came out unchanged. Why would you? Morecambe, on the other hand had a bit of a clear out. It did change the play, but only a bit.

And then after an hour Obikwu was caught on the ankle (again) and reluctantly came off – you could see the look of hat-trick in his eyes – to be replaced by Danny Rose. Time to change the song. Morecambe made two more substitutions to add a net balance of two strikers. They weren't any more dangerous but Town went through a lull for 20 minutes as they lost the sure touch and sure-footedness that had been so joyous.

On 85 minutes Jordan Davies came on for McEachran and soon hammered a ball against the crossbar. Khouri replaced Thompson and Ainley replaced the hard-working SvanǷórsson. There were other oooohh!! moments.

Town had to scramble a ball off the line, there were several dubious calls by the officials and saying so resulted in Rose and Artell getting a talking to and a tense atmosphere between the teams. Nevertheless, it all came good in the first minute of the six of added time when Denver Hume's impeccable touch returned for Rose to make it three. It could have been six – but that will do nicely.

Morecambe has gone from Art-Deco glamour, to home of student bedsits, to a Crinkly Bottom sink-hole, to a nightmare of planning idiocy. Slowly it is picking itself up. But not so much at the end where the ground is; on the main road to the end-of-the-line, opposite the caravan parks and next to the new-built gated mansions with repro baroque fountains.

Another festive game: who lives in a house like this? Can you guess? It's another one of the parties who thought about buying Morecambe Football Club. But if Town ever return to Westgate it seems it will be the home of the Bengal Warriors. They'll have to be fierce, and quickly, for Morecambe are running out of time and running out of league.