The Thick of It

Our footballing rivalry with Rushden & Diamonds may remain dismayingly one sided, with still just a solitary win to our credit, and even their usually moribund followers finally generating more than 20 decibels last Tuesday (I still couldn't quite make out the words when the third goal went in, but it sounded like "Let's all play the banjo").

However, casting the net a little wider, the Poppies fan can continue to claim an advantage. It has already been noted that we retain the edge in the 'metric number of fingers and toes' stakes, and that's before we start comparing IQs. Yes if it came to a head to head in a game of Trivial Pursuit, our money would be on the Kettering Town manager every time. Even Kevin Wilson. Put simply, all Diamonds managers are thick.

This is now so ingrained it must be part of the job description. After Garry Hill, who gave a passable impression of a shuffling extra from Dawn of the Dead - and that was before he tried to speak, we now have Justin Edinburgh, whose dull ramblings enliven many a Radio Northampton broadcast. "Justin you must be happy with the win today?" "yeh well as I say we set our stall out zzzz".

This can be traced back all the way to the founder of the dynasty of denseness, Emperor Brian the First - a creature of such primitive intellect, he reputedly could only master simple hand tools, and lacked any sense of space or time. Talbot once asked the Nene Park groundsman, who had just mowed the pitch in stripes, how he managed to get the grass to grow in different directions, and had a national radio presenter in stitches as he struggled with the devilish poser "Why are the team nicknamed the Diamonds?" Maybe BT just assumed there was this place called Rushdenundiamonds.

This was thickness so absolute that 'talbot' should really be designated as a scientific measure of stupidity. An internationally recognised unit, with an xray of the interior of his skull locked away in a secure vault. Let's start the campaign now - tell your friends, drop it into conversation - hell even make a wikipedia entry - and wait to see how long before it becomes part of the language.

"Are you saying your client is of limited mental capacity?"
"Yes your honour, he's nearly a full talbot"

But underneath that sturdy veneer of inarticulacy, Edinburgh - unlike his predecessors - is regrettably showing a certain amount of managerial nous, so he may be destined for better things. In which case the Diamonds board would be well advised to line up a replacement. Judging by his performances on the Final Score sofa, Les Ferdinand seems just the man. He talks like a Nene Park natural, plus he is rumoured to live in Thrapston, so is already accustomed to life in a nondescript genetic backwater.