Cod Almighty | Diary

It's going to be a crisp afternoon

9 February 2024

Yesterday's Guest Diarist talked to us about the evolution of language, which made BOTB think: when did people stop saying "I have a cold" and starts saying "I'm full of cold?" This is relevant, by the way, because I have a cold. When people say "I'm full of cold" I always cross them off my Christmas card list and let their tyres down. This may seem extreme, but I want to nip it in the bud before "I have diarrhoea" goes the same way.

The evolution of language in football is something I've talked about before and my reader will know my thoughts on 'taking on water' or 'hydrating' instead of 'having a drink.' 'Controlling the game' is a new one, of course, meaning to pass around the back four until you concede possession and the opposition score. Donovan Wilson has gone to Crawley now means Donovan Wilson has not gone to Crawley. My older reader will remember when the genteel Trevor Brooking introduced the phrase "he'll be disappointed with that" to replace the previously popular "what the fuck was he doing there, the useless arsing sausage?"

None of which has much to do with Town's visitors Stockport County. The Storkpots, as they like to be known, are currently top of the league after getting promoted to the fourth division at the same time we did. Hang on, aren't they supposed to gradually consolidate season on season like the clever people say you should? They should get a points deduction for that. They should also get a points deduction for having Dave Challinor as their manager. I bet he says "I'm full of cold" but I'm pretty positive he never says "I'm sorry I ended your career, Martin."

The general consensus seems to be that, because we managed a nilly-niller at Accrington, things are on the way up and we don't have to worry about relegation anymore. They should have scored after we presented them with a good chance by pissing about at the back, of course, but because that didn't go in everybody was happy. Natural dour Grimsby pessimists such as myself are still rather filled with trepidation, but that shouldn't worry the shiny happy people out there, and if we manage to get a point against the Storkpots they will have every right to point a finger at me and laugh at the silly old miseryguts.

Strangely inarticulate Town boss Our Tel has doubtless said he is expecting a tough test, but when I was trying to find his article I bumped into this and got distracted. Apparently it's animal abuse to dress lambs in jockey costumes and have a race at a carnival. Now I think what usually happens to lambs is even worse, but what do I know.

As I go into my dotage I find it harder and harder to remember Town players’ names. For a while I thought this was a 'me' problem, but I've recently realised that it is more challenging these days because so many players have two surnames - Denver Hume and Donovan Wilson, for two. It's twice as much for me to remember. It's nothing to do with me being old and forgetful. I tell myself.

So, I have a cold. Will I still go to Blundell Park and spread my germ around Town's faithful? You bet I will! Grimsby 'til I sneeze! If anyone reads this I might get a bit more space to myself as well. Bonus!