Cod Almighty | Article

by Various

24 March 2025

Shared players, shared managers, shared kit and shared woes with many a dodgy dealer eyeing up the real estate - life isn't simple for the Piemen, our midland dopplegangers. But it is simply how life is.

Delve shallowly into the past and wallow a little upon Manny D's finest moments, come dine upon 90s culture wars and nod in the direction of the Frenchman John, the Frenchman.

The Life of Pie – never a dull moment

While we're waiting for kick off here's a question: are they Piemen or Men of Pie? Does it depend on which side of the Trent you're born?

And talking about the light and dark sides of the Trent in 2002 our Diarists noted a geographical oddity in the League Cup draw "Just thought I'd point out that Nottingham Forest are in the North region of the Carling Cup whilst their more Northerly neighbour Notts County are in the Southern region.”

Football, eh, it makes no sense.

We go back a long, long way we two do. 140 years. Same kit, shared players, shared pain, and many, many scrapes that propriety and basic human empathy lead us to look away from. We're both in a better place now.

And since they returned to the league this fixture has been the gift that keeps on giving with never a dull moment with 20 goals in the last three games played, shared…unevenly.

The past is another County they say, they – we - did things differently then and we were often in a different place, a higher place, the ever-shifting sands of the second tier of English professional football. David Ellery's card crazy rampage in the Warnock/Buckley culture wars of 1992, Paul Rees whoopsy-daisy okey-cokey own goal in a downpour in 1995, these all preceded the internet age, distant memories for ageing Mariners and the People of the Pie.

Games against County are ten-a-penny across the years, so much so that reader David Elvidge confessed to not having attended one game because "…Marty Wilde and the Wildcats were playing in Hunstanton - they were great!". Ah, but Dave, games between these two game old birds of British football are rarely dull and even when they are something always turns up as a comic twist in the tail. Our internet archives are a seething mass of goalfests, grim implosions and one glorious night of elation on our way to elevation.

Let's randomly but specifically choose April 2005 when both teams were bumbling around in the lower reaches of the lowest tier, sufficiently safe for the match to have no meaning, no consequences and no discernible interest to anyone, least of all the players:

"…just a series of throw-ins, which won't get a second season on Channel 5. There was no particular plot and no crazy, wacky happenings involving young people set to a rock 'n' roll soundtrack. You couldn't get emotionally attached to the characters; no depth, you see.

Minutes of life disappeared, the football just a backdrop to a thousand conversations.”

Things spiced up slightly after half time with Town sneaking ahead and:

"Oh dear, what's happened here then? After three minutes Coldicott walked off the pitch. Enter le bouc émissaire Français, Professor Pinault: the temperamental talisman. Such space, such a canvas on which to paint. Err, why is he playing as the defensive midfield enforcer?”

The game bumbled on and Town led 2-0 with fifteen minutes left, the lead evaporating as Stefan Oakes vaporised two identical free kicks into the top left corner from 30 yards. And then we all went home for tea.

Wait, there's more - over the airwaves came Raging Russell Slade, the Foghorn Leghorn of the fourth, when politely prodded about the two goals his goalkeeper had let in:

"It's the Frenchman, the Frenchman John… I could get any female off the street…it's a disgrace…I'm seething, I'm seething John."

The past is a different country indeed, we say and do things differently now.
In 2009 we finally had a cracking keeper to keep them at bay – Henderson! No, not that one, the other one, Wayne, who wowed the crowd and wooed our match reporter:

"Now is that five saves or six? In all this excitement we kinda lost count. We could only ask ourselves one question: do we feel lucky?

Henderson...unbeatable, beating out every rickle, ruckle, muckle, tuckle and tickle. Flying left, flying right, high and low. Off his line, on his line, punching corners, catching crosses and plucking off toes and heads, he offered the perfect pedicure. He throbbed omniscience.

Town were a one-man band. Is there anybody out there wanna lend him a hand?"

As County withered away towards the Bananarama many a Magpie manager lamented their grim and grimmer days, with Neal Ardley summing it up perfectly, if anatomically incoherently

"The soft underbelly we've had throughout the season has reared its head again."

But how can we not wallow in the glory of 2022, a season of last-minute winners for them for us, for us, and oh yes for us in that play-off game. Yeah, dear old County were simply the amuse bouche in our gorgeous play-off feast. Seeing is believing, do we still believe what we saw?

County took the lead with a penalty, time drifted on, Town shots drifted wide. Six minutes were added. Time drifted on, Town crosses drifted wide and a trickle of Town fans started to drift down the stands:

"Wheels fall off barrows you know. This is the end, there is no more, ticking away, ticking away, 20 seconds left and Clifton felt the hand of history on his shoulder. Or Richardson's, one or the other. Down he tumbled. A free kick directly beneath the imploring massed Mariners as Crocombe lumbered into view. Maguire-Drew chipped, Waterfall hubbled, the ball bubbled, Mad Max swung his pants, and Holohan befundled through sad striped legs with the very last kick of the game.

Pandemonium.”

Wait, there's more.

"There's another footballing dimension, beyond that which is known to Aaron McLean. It is a dimension as vast as space and as timeless as infinity. It is the middle ground between light and shadow, between science and superstition, and it lies between the pit of Burchnall's fears and the summit of his knowledge. We are now entering the twilight zone

How long left? A minute or so. Amos fell in the badlands, always between here and there inside the County half. Maguire-Drew raised an arm, Waterfall lurked farly and headed down across the face of goal. Two bodies tumbled and Manny D's magic knees moved his magic chest, the ball trundling past the desperate despairing gloves of Mrs Slocombe.

And now we're lost in a daydream, dreamin' 'bout this bundle of joy."

The agony, the ecstasy. What a delicious dénouement.

One day the delicious dénouement to the monochrome midland derby will be a scoreless bore draw. In the context of our clashes, that really would be something to remember.

These are the full versions of the Cod Almighty programme articles for the 2024/25 season. An edited version was published in The Mariner on 11 March 2025