Cod Almighty | Match Stats

Tuesday 28 October 2025

League Cup (4)

Grimsby Town 0

Brentford 5 Jensen (22), Lewis-Potter (26), Nelson (43), Carvalho (54, pen), Collins (75)

Attendance: 8,637 (1,174 away fans)

The shuffling sponsors saw enough to plonk their plonk in the hands of the almighty Evan, the veteran scamperer who didn't stop believing he could stop them scoring one more time.

No one was anything but playing at the limits of their maximum. Khouri was consistent, Vernam flickered in that brief period of equality but perhaps, perhaps, Big Sam Lavelle should get some acknowledgement for some quietly sensible soccer; he did, after all, chain Dango.

Big Dave's variation on the standard little club getting stuffed by big club schtick at least made sense of the world and our place within it:

"Mixed emotions, but we've earned the right to see what Premier League quality is."

Hang on Dave, didn't we see what “Premier League quality” was when Ruben's Ramshackle Rovers came to town?

"Everyone understood the context, this is what should have happened two rounds ago… we gave it a right good go but suddenly, a shot on target, bang, goal. The ruthlessness they showed was extremely impressive…If you don't show it at one end, they're gonna show it at the other."

Ooh, cheeky, that'll get those Kenyan keyboard warriors, Nigerian nesbitts and Indian internutters going again.

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Brentford’s be-bouffanted boss was thrilled and trilled about his lads learning lessons in a man’s world in this neck of the woods. For Medium Sized Keef preparation is what you need if you want to be a record breaker, yeah:

“Professionalism…attitude…an education maybe. The foreign boys wouldn’t be aware of this part of the world and this level of football, that was a big part of our approach”

C’mon, Mr Hollywood Big Shorts, you’re very smart, tell us how did you do what you did to us?

“They started the game really well and landed on more second balls, looked dangerous and controlled it through McEachran. We made a little tweak and Matty went a little more aggressive on him ….we pressed, we scored and that was the turning point”

Well, we could have told you that for nothing.

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Town played really well individually and collectively. Play like that in the fourth and we win every game, easy. Shame we were playing a top team in full flow.

Context is king and the opponents were unheralded footballing royalty. A bit like Princess Anne: very hard working and impressively cutting if they spotted a weakness. The weaknesses were small, the margins fine, but Brentford leapt upon every little thing that wasn't perfect in our world and ruthlessly ravaged and savaged the bunnies.

Town matched them for 22 minutes, gave them a real game, but it's all about speed. Speed of thought, speed of foot. The sheer speed of their players was unmatchable and once they went ahead there was no escaping reality.

Stats don't lie, yet they do, for Town were just not quite as good as a very good team indeed. A very good, extremely expensive team with a budget 27 times higher. Now there's context. There was nothing to be ashamed of, just a useful learning curve.

Hold your heads high.

Their Irish jester does not play but gently pulled the strings and smiled as his puppets danced through Artell's full court press.

Five shots on target, five goals. Precision and professionalism of the highest order. They were no Premier League showboaters, holding their nose as they got off the bus. Not since Chelsea in 2019 have Town played anyone so, so superior – and that was a very mundane and mediocre Town team.

It took them 20 minutes to click, for their disparate collection of individuals just didn't connect…then they did and that was that. What can you do when the opposition can run and think quicker?

Ruthless, clinical and all the other cliches. They didn't really let up and they played football not hoofball. Get your money on them win to League Two this year.

Now that's what I call a football team.

We're not all wusses who go home crying when the going gets tough.

Mr T Kirk

We really must stop meeting like this.

Don't take it personally, but please don't come back. Little Tommy is a harbinger of home doom, yet a kindly soul who does his best to minimise the pain and keep the score down. He may average five goals scored against Town every time he turns up but he's a true gent, a soothing balm as we slip away. Thank you kindly Mr Thomas, sir: 8.765.

We had 22 minutes of joy and hope. The rest is a blur of Bees swarming through our home.

In a word: chasm