28/03 Rushden Part 2

Grimsby Sleepwalkers 0 Rushden & Diremen 0
28 Mar 2005, Coca Cola League 2

The programme has him down as a defender/midfielder, so it must be that old school football trick - catch the ball in the warm up and you're in goal. "Haw, haw", to quote Nelson Muntz, their assistant manager.

You have got the drift, haven't you? Slow, dull, devoid of competence, Town seeking the big men upfront, the Rushden & Carbons defensive in the extreme. Ten minutes gone and the Carbonites hadn't even managed to get one little toe inside the Town penalty area. A shot! Nah, not from them. Gritton receiving a flick on from Harrold on the centre left, weaving and wafting a shot from just outside the area which drifted and droned wide of the near post, without Shearer bothering to move. He was bored already.

In the context of this game the following was an exciting moment to be savoured, treasured even. Some Town player, lost in the mists of time, dinkled a cross from the right, Gritton soared above his marker beyond the far post and headed back across goal. Fleming trotted in, the ball bombled past him, Harrold slid in as Shearer stooped and scooped the ball up. Yeah, great.

Rushden broke excitingly from their own half, getting within 40 yards of Williams. My, that was exhilarating. Handball? Has this officially been excised from the rule book? Handball again? And again? Pfft. La-di-da-di-da, dum-di-dum-di-dum.

A Rushden player set foot inside the Town penalty area, 22 minutes 34 seconds.

Boring. Another Town long ball. Boring, boring, boring, boring. Where are my old John 'n' Roly videos? Hoof, Harrold flick, Gritton nodded free behind the defence, bounding along inside the area, just Shearer betwixt Gritton and glory. Shearer ambled forward and leapt half-heartedly at the Gritster, who rather feebly tapped the ball against the goalie's thigh. Pathetic attempt really; awful miss, for the keeper was caught in a terrible position and just jumped up in the air hoping for the best. How long gone? Twenty four long, long, long minutes.

Choose some suitable mental music to signify a moment of great joy and triumph. You could choose Beethoven's ninth, or perhaps the theme from Please Sir! The nesting entity that was Rushden suddenly shrugged off the torpor and timidity. From their right, just inside the Town half the ball was curled into the Town area. Williams stayed on his line, Forbes raced back and, from the edge of the six yards box at the far post, slid, stretched and hooked the ball away at the far post. The ball struck the dove from above on the chest, bouncing a couple of feet past the post. Of course a corner was given, flipped through the area, missed by all, except Gritton's right hand, which laid the ball off perfectly for Crowe to clear from near the foot of the left post. Some Town fans even appealed for handball, so desperate were they for something to happen. Anything, we'd accept anything.

Rushden had what was, for them, a spell of concerted pressure. In other words more than three of their players were in Town's half and they had the ball for a minute. Nothing whatsoever came of it. No shot, no possible moments of almost nearness, not even any comedic fumblings and stumblings. A barn owl did not swoop down and pluck away the centre forward's toupé, nor did Rob Jones break-dance in the centre circle to the hip-hop beat of Lieutenant Pigeon. What a mouldy old dough this game was.

"I have a tree that looks like Ken Dodd."
"Yeah, and Crane's been our best player this season."
"So, have you taken your kids to Grimsby's cultural quarter? They've been to Lincoln before."
"Ah, I see both legs are working now."
"Town've never suffered from safety before. It's boring."