Grimsby v Scunthorpe United

Saturday, April 23, 2005

Football League Two

Grimsby :
Anthony Williams, McDermott, Whittle, Forbes, Bull, Crowe, Fleming, Pinault, Jones, Gritton (Reddy 74), Parkinson
Subs not used:
Crane, Ramsden, Downey, Hegarty

Scunthorpe United :
Musselwhite, Byrne, Crosby, Butler, Ridley, Sparrow (Taylor 45), Baraclough, Kell, Beagrie (Corden 81), Hayes (Rankine 68), Torpey
Subs not used:
Hinds, Evans

SULSESC REPORT

by Chris Vaughan at Blundell Park

NETTLEHAM being the designated lunch-time rendezvous for the various SULSESC cars travelling north for the Derby of all Derbies in the Land of Rotten Fish, we decided that Nettleham would be a good place to stop for lunch and - er - rendezvous.

Interesting village - at least three great-looking pubs to try out; we met up in the Plough. (Note for next SULSESC bike-ride - add Nettleham to route if possible).

After sampling both mild and bitter (well, I did, anyway) washed down with a light and cheekily refreshing haddock and chips, and exchanging cash and cheques for match tickets, we continued the advance on the Codhead Republic of North East Lincolnshire.

The contrast in atmosphere between Nettleham pub and Blunder Park approach was, not unexpectedly, marked. Having parked the Wrightmobile round the corner, we (Sumner, Wright, Vaughan) continued on foot to find a - umm - stimulating atmosphere. We approached the ground just as the main mass of train-borne Iron supporters were being herded in the same direction - mainly for their own protection from the mob of Burberry-wearing teenage codhead would-be thugs hanging around on the other side of the road like a pack of hyenas.

The mob of burbery-wearing teenage codhead would-be thugs, in fact, which we were ourselves fast approaching...

Fortunately we must have looked like the slightly paunchy middle-aged gits we are and managed to pass without trouble both through the Burberry-clad ranks and across the road to join the main column, the latter manoeuvre completed without a murmur from the police escort.

So what is there to say about a 0-0 draw? The first-half was more of a battle than a football match. The old boy Beagrie seemed to agree - he had an absolute mare of a match by his standards; both he and Hayes should have been pulled off at half-time (insert own joke here). The Cods gave us no time on the ball and used all the underhand tricks of a team with little in the way of skill to gain the advantage. The nearest we came to scoring was a header over from the young boy Butler.

The second-half was a much more open affair. Scunny had more time on the ball: perhaps the Cods had tired themselves out. They still made their presence felt though, especially in their own half where the Iron had great difficulty breaking down a stubborn defence, despite creating several good chances.

As usual, Cleveland played a fine cameo role when he appeared for Sparrow who hadn't played particularly badly. Beagrie, however, was still trying to remember what the round white thing was for when he was substituted, with only a few minutes to go, by Corden who promptly produced the best cross of the day which Torps headed just over.

In the end, as the BBM said, this was not a day for football. It's a pity we didn't manage to snatch a winner, in view of the other results which mostly went in our favour, but at least another point was added to the all important grand total. The players, pushing their way through the police cordon strung across the pitch, received a standing ovation from the visiting supporters. Two games to go, and all still to play for.

It was only upon reflection on the way home that I realised that something had been missing from the whole experience. Not a whiff of fish, rotten or otherwise. Things ain't what they used to be...