Cod Almighty | Match Stats

Saturday 3 October 2015

Conference Premier

Grimsby Town 1 Pittman (31)

Forest Green Rovers 1 Parkin (34)

Attendance: 5034 (37 away fans)

The jewellery rattlers settled for a swift half-hearted handshake with Josh Gowling, for outstanding achievement in the field of adequacy.

Oh what the heck. Gowling seemed the most stable stallion on the gallops.

"The dressing room after is relatively quiet. There's no-one certainly jumping about for joy at getting a draw... Overall I was happy with the performance."

"We had good spells during the game where we were on top, but I thought we defended pretty well too."

More on this

Same team, same performance as last week. Same structure, same feel as this time last year. Oh how we missed that mundane drifting, the one-dimensional hoofs and indiscernible method to score. Look yourself deeply in the eye and ask yourself which one of those substitutes shouldn't have been in the team from the start. Shorty has fitted a speed inhibitor to the Town coach.

East believes himself to be a tricky winger, but kept putting everyone in a tricky position. Robertson was disastrously exposed and the front four were a jumble of men in similar clothes. As soon as the Bogle/Amond beat combo was reunited, things happened. Momentum, a simple forward pass, into space, made men move and Town started to groove.

Let us not talk falsely now, the hour's getting late. There are many here among us who feel that life under Shorty is but a joke. This doesn't have to be our fate. Let's play with the new toys. Don't leave them in the box.

Big, like to fall over, not up to much. They are just a slightly more organised, slightly perkier version of last season's fruity failures. Without Porkin they would be stuck in the middle; with him they have justifiable belief that they may only just fail to be near those who dream about that last play-off place.

Not awful, certainly nothing special, just ordinary men.

Patiently waiting for a train that missed its connection.

Mr S Rushton (Staffs)

Not fit and doesn't have a purpose. A cheery chappy who had no idea what was going off out there. If surrealism ever trained its eye on football he would be the living art embodiment. The man was a total fool, with his enigmatic variations in applying advantage the tip of a vanishing iceberg of competence. Gawping as Gowling was subject to the Heimlich manoeuvre then a judo throw was bordering on the criminally insane.

Not biased, just totally bonkers: 2.345.

Two bald men fighting over a comb.

In a word: Wrestlemania