Cod Almighty | Match Report
by Tony Butcher
24 October 2021
Grimsby Town 2 Yeovil Town 0
Seize the moments of happiness! That is the only reality in the world, all else is folly. It is the one thing we are interested in here. Now, put your coat on, and don't forget the gloves.
A greying afternoon of slow chill and slow wind in Happyland with 116 Glovermen and Gloverwomen shoved into the covered corner listening to the mumble of silence. And in the naked light, they saw 6,000 people, maybe more contented Townites chomping on buns and chortling at buns with puns.
Town lined up in a 4-4-2 formation as follows McKeown, Sears, Waterfall, Towler, Crookes, Bapaga, Fox, Hunt, Clifton, John-Lewis and McAtee. The substitutes were Pearson, Revan, Coke, Wright and Sousa. For all that panic just Taylor was missing, and we'll be missing him at the near post after the news.
Bong, Yeovil in green. Bong, there is no more news today. There was, officially, no news April 18 1930. According to The Grimsby Evening Telegraph archives Sean Scannell was still two weeks away from full training that day too, you know.
Distracted? Aren't we all. Have they started yet?
First half – A history of yesterday
Hello everyone, this is your action news reporter with all the news that is news across the nation, on the scene at the supermarket. There seems to have been some disturbance here.
Yeovil kicked off backwards towards the Pontoon by kicking towards the Osmond to kick towards the Pontoon. Confused? You soon will be.
Over, under, sideways, down, backwards, forwards, square and round. And round and round and round. When will it end?
A green slap against Lennie's back, and the ball ballooned goalwards. Lennie is indeed back, he's at his most dangerous when he's not looking at the ball. That's why we call him the streak.
Shall we be prudent, shall we come out to play? Over, under, sideways, down, backwards, forwards, square and round. And round and round and round. When will it end?
Quigley went all wiggly, Towler stretched and stumbled. A fortunate free kick for fumbling stopped the mumbling. Tips and taps, chips by a chap who often flaps, undue pressure, unwanted activity. C'mon Town, eat your greens. You can't have any pudding if you don't eat your greens.
You! Yes, you! You behind the bike shed, stand still laddie. McAtee stood still, then didn't. Lennie stood still at the far post and the ball didn't arrive.
Town frantically indolent, statically fluid like a melting ice pop. This wasn't in our Green Deal? Glovermen gliding across the green, green grass. Hustling, hassling, dinking and diving as the man in black peeped at the merest striped stare into space. Flibbling, wobbling and Barnett curled welly-welly-well over. Or was it Gorman. Do you, or I, really care about those green dots. Would you really feel any pity if one of those dots stop moving?
Oh for heaven's sake you silly man! Bapagapen nutmegged Moss on the half way line and was panhandled to earth. The peeping fool wagged his finger and pointed Pontoonwards. Oh dear, he's one of them, at least it may rouse the crowd from the complacent torpor.
Are we complacent or just too full of pie? Can you ever be too full of pie?
A keeping fly-kick hacked and McAtee shook his maracas. Ay-ay-ay makes you want to dance, it's a new romance as Big John slippered through the asteroid belt and Bapagapen infallibly found Smith's wandering hands to fall over.
Just one question, how high are the clouds? No, not that, who is the superhero to miss the next penalty? McAtee? No! Rosemary the telephone operator? No way man! Lennie the mild-mannered centre-forward? Could be.
Oh, he's got style, a groovy smile! John-Lewis rumbled lowly just beyond the flapping fingers of Smith and into the bottom right corner. His mere existence brings joy to the nation, anything else is a bonus.
Nudge and fudge, chip and chase as Town reclined and declined to engage with the outside world. Triangles of tosh as the ball sloshed sloppily between the back four and Jamie Mack. Greens pressed, stripes regressed. Crookes hooked, hopped and hipped aside as Yeovil were hitching a ride to Hopeseville.
A thumb goes up, a Gloverman goes by. Ride, ride, hitchin' a ride. Ride, ride, hitchin' a ride. Peeping, weeping, Town seeping and sleeping as Greens tumbled. Dinks were dunked and it's a ball of confusion. Pfft, even this ref wouldn't give a penalty for that, get up you tart.
Gorman wibbled wide after a punt by their Hunt as Yeovil were hunting high and low. Waterfall blocked a flock of seagulls. Is he laughing as they glanced across the great divide and wide? Hazy are the visions of them playing, for green is the colour of these kind strangers, forever flopping as their free kicks were drip-drip-dropping on homely heads.
Oh Town, oh Lennie, for Lennie was Town. Oh. Are we alive, alive-o? Lennie offside left, Lennie offside right, Lennie fell over the ball, the ball fell over Lennie. Once our beer was frothy but now its frothy coffee, well you know shins ain't what they used to be.
One minute was added. And?
And that's the way life used to be. You need ands to hold someone you care for. I care not for memories of this half. It happened, Town were winning and we're grinning.
Second half – Yeovil allures, but good endures
Neither team made any changes at half time.
A chuckling chuck in from the shadows of the Frozen Horsebeer Stand. Lennie rocked and Lennie rolled, Little Harry drifted like clouds across the moon to boom towards the top left corner. Smith zoomed and tippled spectacularly over. Ah, and McAtee weakly wafted the pulled-pork corner into some advancing cabbages. Pork with cabbage? Are we back to the future with old skool dinners?
They always made the custard far too thick for my liking and there were never enough sausages. Young people beware: this is your future – a trip down memory lane always leads to a car park. Town tickles, green pickles, Bapagapen shimmered, Big John glimmered. McAtee looked up, saw Lennie alone at the far post and sliced into the Pontoon. Decisions, decisions. Sliced cheese doesn't go with chips.
We've been waiting all season for this, and here it is: Waterfall misshaped his biscuits and Wakefield ran away with a spoonful of sugar. McKeown awaited, sat down at the near post and spread his arms, buffering aside for a corner. From the corner a loopy-droopy header plopped safely wide as the trusty custardian ostentatiously squawked and flapped, perhaps tired of this life of occasional plucks.
Ha-ha, a chuckling chuck in from the shadows of the Police Box. Lennie rocked and Lennie rolled and Lennie didn't look up but did swipe into the side netting.
The crowd suddenly awoke, chanting, cheering, and as all awaited on the edge of the penalty area Hunt flat batted to square leg, straight out, straight on to the Lower FHB. We used to get angry; now we're in a state of karmic bliss, we can smile at fate and await the blooming of the next seed sown.
Hey Mr Glovermen are you cramping up, cracking up? Mmm, neither, they still seem to think they can escape to the victory of non-defeat. Falling, falling, free kicks and falling. Up, up and away in beautiful balloons. A corner punched, a powerless scrunch. Yeovil heading nowhere: literally, figuratively, emotionally.
Half way through the half we have a substitute: Giles Coke for Hunt. At least we'll get our washing done, for the simple things you see aren't complicated.
OK, let's pump up the volume. To and fro, where do we go. Clifton cheeked, McAtee sneaked free and Smith advanced. McAtee looked up, saw Lennie alone, and passed across the six-yard line. An open goal. Lennie. A football. Can you solve the mystery of what happened next?
Of course you can.
Everyone in the Pontoon just turned round and sniggered. Well, maybe not the newbies, they hadn't had the full Lennie experience. And they still hadn't. There's more.
Here we come again. In, out, in, out, Coke curled and Lennie is Lennie, the centre of the universe. Yep, he blocked it.
The ephemeral Bapagapen was replaced by sexy Sousa. And if you ask "What has he done?" the answer is he made a fool of everyone in green for ten minutes. Oh, and Adi Yussef came on. Did anyone notice? Did he notice?
And here they come again. Corner, corner, header, corner, a corner missed by McKeown. A corner, free kick, in, in, in, out, out, out, dropping, slopping and popping out. Gorman slithered a speculative slap through and across the face of goal.
Eric O dribbled in circles. Look up laddie.
They're falling again, they can't help it. A dead centre free kick, a wall of twigs and wet leaves. Gorman clobbered, McKeown slobbered aside. That's them done for. Hurrah!
As three minutes were about to be added Ay caramba! Sousa mugged Moss under the Police Box, Lennie flicked on, McAtee took a touch and swish-kissed off the keeper's left post. Now's the time to say to goodnight, goodnight.
Good night everybody, everywhere. Good night.
Town were individually and collectively shoddy and slapdash against low-hanging fruit. It took a long time to pluck the last apple from the tree.
Let's just forget about this dullard of a game right now, but remember that the strongest of all warriors are these two — time and patience.
We got away with it. We go on.