Al’s Well That Ends Well: Oldham Report

Grimsby Town 3 Oldham Athletic 3
26 Dec 2003, Nationwide League Division 2

Oodles of Oldhamites, perhaps 8-900 of ‘em, were gathered together in the Osmond End having, like a modern stone age family, a gay old time, whilst the Town stands just kept on filling up - with people! The pre-match entertainment was provided by the Mighty Mariner and one of his few friends in "The Business", Chaddy the Oldham Owl with attitude, which strutted around the pitch, hitching up his shorts and rolling his shoulders. Perhaps he’ll grow into the costume when he gets older. For those who need to know every detail, no matter how small, Mighty Mariner won the impromptu penalty competition 2-1. His only miss (a cheeky chip straight into the Owl’s wings) brought forth the first "sort it Grovesie" of the afternoon.

Town lined up in a 4-4-2 formation, as shown. Once again, Jevons was stationed on the left wing, with Hamilton joining Pouton in a broad beefy midfield. It may not be mobile but Oldham’d have to run the long way round.

Ah, a problem. Oh dear. Oldham were wearing yellow. The Town players are allergic to yellow, especially East Pennine yellow, a particularly pungent aroma which has our monochrome aesthetes backing away holding their noses, waving little doily fans.

A man walked past the Pontoon acknowledging his mates at the back. He tripped over a step. The referee waved play on.

1st half

Oldham kicked off towards their own fans, took two touches and hoofed the ball out of play. Nice. That was just to lull Town into a false sense of superiority. Their strikers, Jermaine Johnson and Calvin Zola, were immensely mobile, frighteningly quick and tricky. Johnson especially, as he flailed Crane, stripping him of all dignity. Within the first minute Zola had sucked in a couple of Town defenders, rolled around them and passes were fizzed between several blurs of yellow. A free kick about 25 yards out, just to the left of centre. Trouble brewing, worry spreading through the Pontoon. Boshell stepped forward, whipped a right foot shot goalwards and Davison just managed to shuffle across to his right and tip the ball onto the crossbar and out for a corner.

Town responded by doing something vaguely interesting but forgettable in the great scheme of things. The ball was crossed, I think, and Oldham headed it away. Off they went again, Johnson drifting away from Crane and flicking the ball behind Edwards for Zola, who raced clear into the box, curled the ball around Davison and into the bottom left hand corner for...nothing. Offside. Phew. Five minutes gone, two very loud bells rung, with a couple of hooters in the background, for Crane had been left crushing grapes whilst Johnson spun clear and goalwards, only a combination of Edwards and Barnard had squelched danger away. Lets just say that Oldham were looking pretty impressive going forward.

Ah-ha, at last, a Town attack worthy of misremembering. Wing play, trickery, dickery, Campbell clear, on the bye-line, crossing to Onoura, six yards out, in the centre. A goal? No, a firm header down, bouncing into the goalkeeper’s midriff. What was longer, his name or his legs?