Cod Almighty | Match Stats

Sunday 5 June 2022

Conference Premier

Solihull Moors 1 Hudlin (45+1)

Grimsby Town 2 McAtee (69), Maguire-Drew (111)

Attendance: 22897

On the gogglebox the banter boys with their tight trousers and lairy jackets chose Ben Fox for box to box blocks and his midfield lock. They're not always wrong, you know.

The awesome Fox and quietly effective Holohan have their champions, but let's hear it for the boy: maybe he don't dress fine, but we really don't mind 'cause every time he boots it clear we just wanna cheer.

From those who are about to cry: we salute you. Hail Caesar!

"It's an incredible feeling. Almost a little surreal, but the club feels more together this time."

You said it, Paulie, you said it.

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What a splendid chap earnest Ardley is: honest and gracious with no hint of sourness. Nice Neal's constructed a pretty good team too. Good luck, old boy.

"I don't think either team deserved to win or to lose. But it is what it is."

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Such mental and physical fortitude, such belief, such is our new life. Operating, generating, it's a new Town life.

Of all the play-off games this was the least complete performance – yeah, who cares now, eh? Town wibbled at the start, with Sousa in particular fey and ineffective, more a pest to Town than the yellow peril. McAtee kept tripping over the ball, Taylor was smothered into irrelevance as Town could hardly boil an egg. But slowly, slowly the freshwater fish was reeled in as Fox and Holohan strangled Solihullians.

The centre held magnificently, as did legs and minds and our Kiwi keeper's elongated and extendable arms.

Never give up on a good thing, remember, this is what makes us happy.

What a team, what a squad, what a club.

Don't feel so sad at heart, keep this lovely moment as a memory apart.

Highly organised, highly effective, highly impressive but, ultimately, as the seconds turned to minutes turned to hours their young heads and even younger haircuts wilted. Just a little too callow at the moment.

Nippy flippers and whippers with an eye for a bargain, they are built to be a jack-in-the-box team of springy counter-punchers. Pacy, pacy, very-very pacy, they are very pacy. They didn't deserve to lose this game, but didn't do enough to win it. They lost the flip of the coin that is Cropper's tosses and the head hurtiness for Hudlin.

Ardley's adventurous agornauts finished third for a reason and they'll be back near the top again next season unless they are asset-stripped by evil oligarchs.

We wish you luck as we wave you goodbye.

Together. Greater.

Mr M Woods

Marty hasn't conquered his anxieties, he's still in therapy. This pastel peeper was perfectly fine between both penalty boxes, but hasn't conquered the televised ref's fear of the penalty. Let us be magnanimous in victory: 5.982

One team, one club, one Town.

In a word: communion