Scunthorpe United 2 Grimsby Town 0 06 Nov 2004, Coca Cola League 2
There were some attempts at banter as the warm-up progressed, but it was all so forced. The Scunthorpe teenagers were even more limited that their Town counterparts in dreaming up chants. They don’t do to our steel what we do to their fish. Missed a trick there, didn’t they. They were totally dumbstruck when their chants of "Sing when you’re fishing" were flung back at them with glee.
Town lined up in the 3-4-3 formation, as shown. Hearts sank, still the same glumpy gunge in the centre, but at least we have some defenders. And Jones. Transitory Stan emerged to roll his shoulders and was greeted with polite applause. He’s on a suspended sentence from the supporters
A new theory emerged concerning the Lord Lucan of Town. Glen Downey could be that fitness coach who makes them run between those cones. Well, have you got a better one?
I don’t care about Scunthorpe. Do you?
Scunthorpe should be sued for harassment. Town had one tiny lass as a mascot and they had five boys. That’s bullying, that is. See you in court Mr Laws. Ah yes, him, we’d forgotten about him, hadn’t we? No we hadn’t. The bile rising form our guilty past was reserved for him, and him alone. That’s only when the "passion" emerged.
Fenty came out and did a mini-walkabout, applauding the massed Mariners. I wish he wouldn’t do that, we always lose when he does.
1st half
Scunthorpe kicked off towards their own supporters, knocked back to their left back and wellied up to Torpey. Whittle headed away and the referee awarded a free kick. Beagrie tried to crack it quickly, it took a deflection, a corner, wasted, that’s it for 15 minutes.
Bang, bang, bang. They sure know how to head a ball. A basic method was employed by Scunny, hit it quickly to Torpey and Hayes sniffs for flicks and rebounds. Firm and fruity it was, not bone shaking stuff, but no-one was pulling out of challenges, or refraining from stopping limbs connecting. The referee gave the first three free kicks to Scunthorpe and this displeased a significant minority within the corrugated calamity that is Blandford Park. There was nothing else to get steamed up about. Town were formless, letting Jones heave hopeless punts in the vague direction of Daly and, usually, massive Andy Parkinson. Scunthorpe headed it away, lofted it forward and Jones or Whittle would then head it back to them. Repeat ad infinitum.
At one point Scunthorpe crossed the ball towards the Town area. The home fans made a noise, disturbing the light readers down in the Town end.
Ah, that’s better. Sestanovich swirling and twirling down the left, like a wheel within a wheel, never ending or beginning, just turning on his heels and crossing for.... no-one. Macca gave him a look that could have lasted years. I always have the music from Mary, Mungo and Midge playing in my head when Sus-Sus-Stanovich gets the ball. Going up, going down, dudderly-dudderly-dudderly-dudderly-doh! Does that make Parky the mouse on Stan’s nose?
Where are we now? Still in the Scunny triangle of dearth.
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