Cod Almighty | Match Stats

Saturday 29 April 2017

Division 4

Barnet 3 Akinde (23), Tutonda (40), Weston (53)

Grimsby Town 1 Disley (74)

Attendance: 3247

One and half men were not in a shonky sitcom. Comley was fitfully adequate, at least tackling and running whilst stuck in the mud of the right wing. But, once again, a professional gave a professional performance: Danny Collins. The only man to stand up to Big John.

The bus driver could have got lost on the North Circular and we could have just danced in the aisles for 90 minutes without that tepid toshery in the background.

It should have been disappointing from the players' point of view on Saturday, because the majority of them are playing for contracts – it's got to be disappointing from their point of view. As a manager, it's disappointing also, because I want them to step forward and make me take notice, if they're not going to do that, then it makes the decision a little bit easier, doesn't it?

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What a total irrelevance they were. The laddies in red? There's nobody here.

Imagine there's no Vernon, it’s easy if you try. Imagine there’s no Clements, it isn't hard to do.

No pace, no power, no precision, just indecision. No incision and no fun in the sun from the future ex-employees of Grimsby Town. Weak, slow and very old looking trippers, like dehydrated prunes in search of the lost semolina. Apart from Collins, and Comley sometimes, we watched grown men trying to avoid an inconvenient pre-holiday injury, or rage against the dying of their light.

Two away Slade games, two awesomely apathetic ambles towards a shambles. A pattern. Let's make it last year's fashion, eh Russ. Get out the pruning shears, the hedge needs trimming.

Pace, power and precision. They had a hoot against these honkers with the bonkers fans. Akinde was the perfect number nine, bullying Pearson and Boyce; Campbell-Ryce sold Davies by the pound. Barnet had a team of athletic young men playing football together, for a reason. At this stage of the season what reasons do you need?

Nice football played nicely. Superior, safe.

What have we got? Una poca de gracia y otra cosita

Mr S Stockbridge

Post barbeque kick-a-bouts for the middle-aged dads and the little ‘uns really should be simple to referee. Blow the whistle to start, chuckle occasionally, then blow it again when everyone looks a bit too bored or their knees creak too loudly, old Ben. There really was no need to book Tombola for tackling a bit rubbishly when an amiable chuckle was all that was required: 6.999

The hive of inactivity from the Red Pants as the band played on…

In a Word: deflation