Cod Almighty | Match Stats

Wednesday 1 March 2023

FA Cup (R5)

Southampton 1 Caleta-Car (65)

Grimsby Town 2 Holohan (45+1 (pen), 50 (pen))

Attendance: 17,584 (4,295 away fans)

To be perfectly frank they were, frankly, almost perfect. Nice to see ya, it was really nice to be here. We love them all: Waterfall's forehead, Josh's big broad shoulders, Niall's ticking brain, and above all we had ice-cool Gav O'Groves.

Shocked. And stunned. Very stunned. Very, very stunned.

So shocked and stunned the Grimsby guru revealed his motivational technique, the secret of our success:

"I'm in shock. I told the players we could lose 10-0. I was saying I might have to bring a blindfold."

We can keep in touch with him by tapping the table. And postcards.

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From you we get opinions, from you we got a story. See Ruben, feel Ruben's pain as he saw our glory and realised what a mountain he has to climb:

"We need to just feel what we are feeling, feel the pain. Today is painful, very painful for everybody."

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Fortune favours the brave.

I feel a sudden urge to sing the kind of ditty that invokes the spring. It's physical, only logical. So what's luck got to do with it?

It would be churlish to point out how alarmed any stray Lutonites watching would be, for this was another of those life-affirming tweaks of the rich man's nose where the poor huddled masses rose up as one. Without hard work nothing grows but weeds, and Town's garden was blooming marvellous. Hail the heroes of the hour (plus added VAR and Crocramp time), from head to toe and left to right, from the top to the bottom of the stands, them and us and us and them, after all they were extraordinary men.

Can't you see? It's the chemistry. Together we are beautiful.

Premier League? They are having a very hollow laugh at that notion.

The dust blows forward and the dust blows back. They just don't know when the road turned into the road they're on. Empty stands, empty heads and empty hearts with a team jogging on empty.

Collectively, individually insipid, tepid, feckless and reckless. A team, a club inexorably spinning down the plughole and about to spin off the corporate carousel with the second division getting nearer and nearer by constantly changing horses midstream.

Forget the past Soton, there ain't no point looking back. Throw away your old clothes and get yourself a better wardrobe.

We came, we saw, we conquered.

Mr T Bramhall

We grew to love Tommy and the voices in his head. He had a dry sense of humour with exquisite comic timing in his theatrical prevarications before pointing the right way: 112.725

VAR-VAR-VAR-voom!

In a word: heaven