Cod Almighty | Diary

They may say those we were the days, but for us these are the days.

6 August 2025

Here comes midweek! I'm so excited I can barely speak! Yet again CA are scraping the bottom of the diarist barrel which is, of course, my natural habitat, so yet again I have been unleashed to wreak havoc with the English language, common sense and common decency. 

And I'm bereft. I have literally nothng to moan about, having witnessed a lovely performance from the winner winner chicken dinners on Saturday. Even the ref, usually a solid fallback option when there is nothing else to criticise, gave us a dodgy penalty. Even the sun, kindly, shone. It was like being a supporter of the Harlem Gobetrotters, knowing that the anonymous and hapless opponents were only there to give the impression of a competetitive game being played, and the result seemed inevitable from the start. 

I can't even pick out a player who was less good than the rest. From Michael McIntyre in goal to the skinny Liam Hearn upfront, everyone was at least decent. I'm really not used to this. Throw me a moan bone, here! In order to squeeze any pessimism juice into the half-full glass I'm going to have to discuss the FUTURE, which, unless you're blessed with foresight, like that Clinton Baptiste, can always be utilised by the desperate writer to provide drama and uncertainty. 

So on Saturday we play Harrogate. Oooh, eh? Harrogate. That's a dangerous game. Because it's Harrogate, and because they play on what looks like a patch of wasteland between four battery farms, there is always a tacit assumption that they are, in fact, complete bobbins. Sadly this isn't supported by the facts, and indeed they proved it by beating Bristol's Rovers by a goal to nothing whilst we were putting the Crawlers to the sword. At the end of last season they selfishly refused to roll over and die, costing us precious points in the playoff race. So, in other words, let's not get carried away here.

In mathematical terms, Overconfident Town Team + Plucky Underdogs = Potential Disappointment. Thanks to Rachel Riley for helping me out with that one. I mean, I'm not being a Negative Nigel or a Moaning Morris or even a Whining Winifred, I'm just pointing out the football season is long and... erm... one... performing... swallow... doesn't make a summer season, or something. Of course, we also don't know how the Crawlers are going to do. They might lose their next three games 8-0 which will rather take the gloss away from our result. They might not get a single point this season. Or they might finish top. More evidence is needed before we start to get the trophy engraved. That's all I'm saying.

Still, that match is a few days away, and until then we are top of the hill and indeed king of the heap. So, whatever you are doing this Wednesday, do it with a hop, a skip and a jump. If you are practising the triple jump, so much the better. Get your swagger in. Put your hat to the side of your head, and ask lamp posts how they're doing. If, as a Town fan, you can't feel groovy now, you might have to accept that feelin' groovy just might not be for you.