The Song Remains the Same: Rushden Report

Rushden and Diamonds 1 Grimsby Town 0
21 Aug 2004, Coca Cola League 2

Irthlingborough: the dead zone; Nene Park: the dead pool. Is there anybody out there? What’s that sound? Dim, and distant, just audible underneath the tinny tannoy. Are they duck hunting? I can’t make it out.

Town tried out a new pre-match routine, which is really an old one - the Metropolitan Police Dog display team jumping through hogs’ heads of real fire. Three balls, three men, one touch, collision-city Arizona. The Dazzler being the chief culprit. Which Dazzler, for the host professional club’s mascot claimed that moniker.

What is that sound? Heavy sibilance?

Rushden warmed up with a sideways salute to current events or, in the modern way, a tribute to the Olympics. Some rhythmic gymnastics, sadly without the ribbons and pony tails, followed by some Keystone Cop 20km walking, though without an 80 year old pianist playing a jovial tune to hurry them along. I’m sure I saw one of them lift both feet: he should have been disqualified. The tannoy made a series of announcements about upcoming features, which all seemed to feature tribute acts. The local Elvis, the local Meatloaf (let’s face it that’s just a fat farmer in a nylon shirt, isn’t it?) and, finally, the local tribute footballers playing Grimsby in a charity match at 3 o’clock.

Ah, that’s what it is. They are calling ducks! Rushden were giving away horns to the crowd, imploring them to make some noise and have some fun. They still don’t get it, do they. Football, that’s why you’re there, that’s the fun. Or at least the opportunity to laugh, laud or lambast a bunch of blokes wearing similar clothing. If you want fun with a kazoo, go down to the local Toys’R’Us.

Town lined up in the 3-4-3 formation, as shown. Happy now? Happy that Reddy was starting in place of Our Little Scapegoat? Thought you were. Reddy played in the centre with Sestanovich initially on the left. You don’t have to use too much of your frontal lobe capacity to work out where everyone else was. For those who like to know every detail, no matter how small, Town played in the full first team kit and Rushden played in all white with some blue bits here and there. And some red lipstick stains down their side.

1st half

Town kicked off towards the home end, which in itself is an abstract concept. What is home for them, who are they, why are they? The crowd was tiny and silent apart from the Town support, who sang for a few minutes as the striped ones marauded at will. It was as if this game was a mere continuation of last week, for Town flicked and tricked, teased and tormented from the start. For a full five minutes Rushden not only didn’t touch the ball but were made to look inferior, collectively and individually. The movement was marvellous, the passing pristine....up until the edge of the Rushden penalty area. It was like an exhibition, the Town Globetrotters whistling their way to victory with some comic capers and faux tension on the way.

Their mission? To score the perfect goal, preferably involving every Town outfield player and at least three spins from Reddy. Oh how we chortled, how we sat back smugly loving every second of this miss-match. Reddy this, Reddy that. Ooo, Aaaahhh, Oooo, Ooo, Aaaaaah. Ha-hah, they nearly had the ball! Reddy, nearly, back again, almost, but fouled. Town got a corner on the right and waited for the big men to trundle up to the far post. Hah - caught you out there Irthlings. Pinault rolled the ball back for Anderson to steam in from Dundee to whack it in, just like last year. Oh, sorry, history doesn’t repeat itself exactly, does it. Macca flew forward and miss-hit a shot through the area, the ball being knobbled away of a white sock, but instantly retrieved by Town. Macca got the ball back and dimpled it through one of many gaping holes for Parkinson who got it trapped under his feet for a microsecond allowing a defender to arrive and clear.