Question of the Week
How much would you accept for Omar Bogle?
16/04 Notts Co Part 2
By: Tony Butcher
AH-HA, and I am not referring to Norwegian synth-popsters. Something's happening here. What it is exactly ain't clear. Do County really want us to win? For the gazzillionth time a striped one passed to a Town player.
Notts County 2 Grimsby Town 2
Ten minutes of life disappeared, the football just a back drop to a thousand conversations. It was all rather like having a p-picnic in the park. You are dimly aware that a division 7 Sunday league match is going on a few yards away, and you occasionally get distracted by the players shouts, but what a tasty vegetable samosa that was, pity about the sausages. It's too early for rhododendrons, but it's a riot of colour out there.
County lumped, Whittle dumped. Now ain't that a kick in the head. No collateral damage done.
Is that Gritton again? Twisting, turning, gurning and burning up the flank, frightening all with his loud shirt and long hair, all too Captain America for the local sheriff. Off he went, defenders left chasing a paper trail of clues to his whereabouts. Past one, two, a third beckoned to the spider, and a cunning little vixen of a pass to the unmarked Parkinson, inside the area on the left. Carry on eating your sandwiches: Parky did the usual Parky thing - delayed, shuffled, ruffled away by the big bad wolf.
With five minutes left to half time Town sank back and County turned the gas up to mark two: simmering rather than boiling in the bag. Those frozen peas'll take ages to cook if they carry on like this. A free kick, on the left, about 20 yards out. Williams mixed his mortar, set his bricks and hid behind the wall. Oakes feigned interest, Palmer feigned adequacy, curling softly over the angle of post and bar. Then Town crumpled down the left. Pipe was tickled free, crossing to the far post and Hurst, unmarked on the edge of the six yards box, steered a header straight into the arms of Williams, whilst two unmarked colleagues bellowed in anger below the massed ranks of meandering Mariners.
Town hanging on, half-time dragging closer; Stallard twisting on a lemon, shot deflected over the bar by Jones' foot. A goal kick was given, then it was half time.
Half time: Notts County 0 Grimsby Town 1
Town were comfortable if not particularly wonderful. County were so ropey it would have taken a monumental feat of engineering to construct a Town engine that misfired more than them. Nothing got past Coldicott who parked his S-registered Citroen upon Stefan Oakes whilst he went light shopping in this retail megopolis. Well, it's free; did you see the no parking signs anywhere? Gritton waltzed supreme, back to the player he was two months ago: strong, subtle and a striker. Crowe enjoyed a few little day trips upfield, opening the throttle and really throwing himself into the bends, for their were no speed cameras or police about. The defence was largely untroubled, unruffled and unemployed. Whenever County looked like getting close to Williams, Jones headed away and Forbes used his sonic screwdriver to guide the ball towards the nearest dead planet whilst everyone else simply stood in the way.
For a cheap wine, this was edible. Now, where's the cheese?
If you went to the pie stall at half time you missed a great game of footy between two under-10s teams. Passing, movement, hair, tantrums, great saves, last minute goals. Everything the pros weren't. And when it was over they did a mass Klinsman dive in the goal below the Town fans, forcing the Town substitutes to flee the county.
And half the crowd seemed to be on the pitch being introduced. Is that what they mean by a Community Club? It was all rather Romper Room.
Stu's Half Time Toilet Talk
"I'm sorry about Grantham."
The report continues in the Second Half.
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