Cod and Chips (no mushy peas): Lincoln Report

Lincoln City 0 Grimsby Town 0
29 Dec 2004, Coca Cola League 2

Three little Lego stands and a great big meccano contraption dominating the landscape of lowland Lincoln. Still, nice view of a handrail.

Town lined up in a 3-4-1-2 formation, as shown. The final substitute was someone who won a place on the bench in a Radio Humberside quiz. They claim the fifth man was that mythical beast, Glen Downey; or it could have been Anthony Blunt, he looked a little like a master of the Queen’s pictures. Got it! It’s Stacy in a toupé! Coldicott hasn’t taken off his fancy dress from the players’ party. Oh, the team. Same formation that was so successful against Macclesfield, with Sestanovich (or as the tannoy announcer pronounced "Se-{white noise like a crisp packet being opened}-vich) in his hole".

Hang on, there’s no Forbes. Or has he joined Stanley in his hole?. Has he given up too? Disappointed with his form over the last couple of games and having heard the rumours that two more will go, he’s jumped ship? The squad is suddenly looking rather frail. But at least Ramsden is back, pseudo-mullet intact, protecting the neck. You don’t think he had mullet surgery do you, a deaf barber accidentally cut off the love of his life and its taken four months to grow to just the right length so he can be seen in public again? Fenty walked over and applauded the massed ranks of Marinerdom. He needs to work on his stage act, it’s getting a bit predictable. Perhaps he should do a little tap dance, or juggle. He won’t get a summer season in Skeg without some variety.

Get out your coalscuttles, get under the table, the air raid is about to begin.

1st half

One of the teams kicked off with Town playing towards the cathedral. Does anyone remember anything from the first few minutes? A bit of hoofage, some stumblage from Bull and Whittle, and a lot of scurrying about by Lincolnites. Call out the instigator because there’s something in the air. Ah yes, the ball. "Hoof", as the Townies joyously chirruped every time an Imp dwelled on the ball.

Tedium and tediosity, why do Town have to sink to the level of their opponents. Yet another long ball out of defence....groans turned to grins as we remembered Ramsden. A pin-point pass to Parkinson, thirty yards of flighted beauty, gracefully gliding on thermals, landing at Lincoln Central. OK, it went to Parkinson on the left touchline about 30 yards out. Parky turned infield, twiddled past a lump of concrete and curled a right footed shot low to Marriott’s right. The purple people-eater scooped the ball safely from his toes.

More aerial nonsense than a washing powder advert in 1976.

A shot, from Lincoln. Nice. Long ball, what else could it be, knocked on, nicked away from Bull, the Lincoln Green 25 yards out on the left corner of the Town area. One bounce, one volley, thwoosh. Dipping over Williams, crawling over the angle of post and bar. That’s a surprise. Better stay awake, just in case.