Jevons Knows They’re Miserable Now: Luton Report

Grimsby Town 3 Luton Town 2
24 Feb 2004, Nationwide League Division 2

The pre-match warm up was devoid of anything. There was the hint of humanity in the Town stands. Oh look, I can see a supporter next to those three stewards. It was like being in the first division again; well, at Wimbledon anyway. Perhaps Town should have taken a leaf out of their book and not turned the floodlights on until 10 minutes before the kick-off? The Mighty Mariner didn’t seem enthused enough to gyrate around goalposts or whip up the crowd into a frenzied frenzy of frenziness, which is surely its raison d’etre. Terminal ennui shrink wrapped itself over Blundell Park. Didn’t anyone want to be there?

The Town players jogged lightly, passed the ball around gingerly and generally looked a little bored. Who’s under the hat? That must be Armstrong, as he’s got Pouton’s shorts on. That’s Soames, ‘cos he’s 3 foot 4 inches tall and 3 foot 3 inches wide. So that must be Stacy, Rodger’s trusty lunging lurcher, the Harry Hill of association football.

Town lined up in a 4-4-2 formation, as shown. Ford was again the nominal right back with Campbell starting at right midfield. Armstrong is sturdy with ginger hair, like a Geordie Willems. His arrival was greeted with apathy.

As were the teams as they sneaked on to the pitch, a few minutes late, probably on police advice to let the hordes of screaming abdabs get to their seats. For those who care about such things, Luton played in a fading-towards-salmon orange shirt. They also wore shorts and socks, again on police advice after due diligence and risk assessments. Molten Fireguard (remember him as an occasional benchsitter in the Lawrence era?) was in goal, but Alan Neilson (remember him as an occasional bedwetter in the dog days of the Lawrence era?) was a substitute. Brill and Okai weren’t in their team, lucky for us eh?

1st half

Luton kicked off towards the Pontoon with two hulks up front, bulkboy Steve Howard and Enoch Showmethemoney. Within a minute Town had imploded. Holes, hesitancy, a real horror show like. Into the centre, on the edge of the penalty area, Showunmi chested the ball down as Armstrong stumbled across, then fell. Hand in mouth, if not glove, as Armstrong scrambled along the floor whirling his legs around in a desperate attempt to hack the ball away. He just managed to chest the ball then toe poke it sideways across Davison as players converged. Davison just managed to drumble it away to his right.

The two Luton lumps were rocking and rolling around at will, especially around Crane, though fortunately Daws and Coldicott were around to smother danger through sheer weight. And numbers. Away with danger, for Town attacked, with Rankin a busy little bee chasing down channel balls almost breaking through on goal after a couple of flicks from Anderson and Daws. The ball was whipped off Rankin’s chest, about 8 yards out, as he waited for it to drop. A corner, on the Town left, taken by Barnard and routine number one came out of the bag. Clipped back to Anderson, 25 yards out on the centre left, he rammed a terrific first time shot a foot or so wide of the ‘keeper’s right hand post.

Excuse me whilst I watch the driblets of sleet for a while.