Are You Local? Boston Report

Boston United 1 Grimsby Town 1
24 Sep 2005, Coca Cola League 2

Had he ever remembered in the first place? He loved to boogie, but I bet he never grooved at the Gliderdome.

As a forward-looking organisation Boston had built a cage near the dug out. Just in case, eh, Mr Evans? Why was he wearing a big red anorak on a steamy September afternoon? Anything to declare? What? "No-one tells fibs in Boston". You've been reading too much Henry James.

Town ran out to a humungous roar and lined up in the oh-go-on-I-admit-it's-a 4:4:2 formation, as shown. It's obvious who played where so I will insult you: Newey played on the left, Cohen the right. There, told you. And Town wore the all blue kit.

York Road, another design classic about to be cast into history in favour of a concrete and plastic Blanderdome. Apparently they want to move to Cuckoo Land. How appropriate.

Boston lined up in some kind of formation with various players. Joachim and Lee up front, Whelan in some kind of withdrawn role on the left, or was that because he happened to stand near the pie stall on that side of the pitch. Noel Whelan: successfully avoiding salad for 30 years. How ironic that he's moved to salad central, a town surrounded by cabbages and whinge.

Ah, the pre-match frenzy to be whipped up by a pitch-walking man with a microphone. On and on he droned with the longest, most tortuous non-joke ever: it's Mr Potato. After fawning at our feet for dismissing Spurs he started a toe-curling story about a.. oh here's the salient points: Lincoln fan bought Lincoln shirt, washed it, left overnight on washing line, found pegs had been stolen. Does he tour the Splisby area with the Tumbleweeds, one of East Lindsey's leading Grumbleweeds tribute bands? I'll gloss over his half time singing. Let's just say the travelling Townites gave him a rousing reception.

Oh yes, it's a football match. Shall we start?

1st half

It feels like a home game.

Boston kicked off towards the massed Mariners, clearly having watched Tottingham on television against some little team or other, for they avoided the mandatory aimless punt into touch Croft dealt with matters, restoring that rip in the space-time continuum by heading it a long way out of play.

Lee kept standing behind Macca and Croft, their tactics hardly earth shattering. Like we didn't think that the ball would eventually be punted to the far post? There were a few minor moments of fluttering jellybabies. Whelan rocking into the box after a flick on by Lee, fainting once, twice, he was three times a lady before Bolland and Jones snaffled him eight yards out. The corner was cleared, Cohen poking the ball up the left to Reddy, who did a hand jive and was away into the Boston half. The linesman flagged, a free kick was given and Reddy was booked. Five minutes gone and a chance to question the referee's personality. Is he really Neil Warnock? Oh dear, not a good sign, for the referee turned and applauded the Town fans for this remarkable insight. Hadn't we learned from Tuesday? Buttering works better than battering with banal insults. He's bound to favour the little team now, isn't he.