NUFC V SMB’s – wake me up on Sunday night!

Flipping Norah, here we go again. The inevitable meeting with the neighbours you don’t get on with at the party you didn’t organise!

Even though you know this party could go pear shaped, there could well be kick offs outside, the deluded neighbours from down the road will no doubt be mortal and gobbing off, you still find yourself drawn straight in to this sordid and tempestuous do. Like a moth to a buzzing light bulb, or a gambler to a slot machine.

Aye, ding-ding round – 149! That’s right, we have been dancing with the devil next door since 1898!

No sooner has one been, another one is around the corner. Like a bad penny or an atomic boomerang, it keeps coming back. Some people love these meetings, live for them. Adrenaline junkies no doubt. The type of people who think nowt of hoying themselves out of an aeroplane strapped to a ruck-sack, filled with some string and a table cloth. Lunatics!

I love the Toon, but I hate derby days. The whole thing makes me feel uneasy, unholy, dirty…
I know what is coming, things on average will probably turn out just fine, but that’s not the point. This week, the build up to the game and Sunday for 90 minutes will be one huge big heart attack on a plate.

The only way I can get through this is with copious amounts of weak lager, and surrounding myself with like minded gluttons as myself, all lining up for more punishment.

Even though I know in my heart and my head that we are better than them player for player, the threat is there. The fear of failure to the crowing balloons cripples me.

For Centuries they have lived in our shadow in a weird and alternate universe, only with a shallower gene pool!

NUFC is not just football, yes it’s the team, but more importantly it’s the city, the people, the fans – the Geordie Nation!

Our proud reputation cannot be toppled by defeat to the goons, but they can tarnish it. They did so last year, who saw that coming? In fact for me they blacken us by merely coming into contact with the grubby blighters!
Personally I find the stress so uncomfortable that I would be happy never to play the SMBs ever again!

Happiness in the 80’s was a Cigar called Hamlet – happiness for me would be to see them sliding out the league and never to darken our doorsteps again! Cigars all round in the Swan house!

But this will never happen. Splits have happened over the years, but always temporary. Like I said earlier, we have still managed 148 previous encounters!

For all the pain, stress, piss and vinegar – I obviously love it really. The perversity of being a Newcastle fan brings us few pleasures, but one of those is stuffing the Mackems. For the sheer unparalleled ecstacy that you feel when we stick one past them, the joyous rapture when we take three points, the laughing at their misfortune. Priceless. It far out-weighs the fear of failure.

If any of our first team squad by chance decides to read this page, listen up…

Go out and settle a score, go out and make a city proud, go out and not only avoid defeat – go out and do what we know you can do, no what you MUST DO…


Always live in hope! Time now to hibernate till Sunday night, wake me on the other side!

For all the lads and lasses going – come back to the homeland fit and well, with a smile and 3 points please! God be with you brave souls. Bring it on.

Joy of Joys!

Joy of Joys!

Keep smiling.


NUFC – Pride restored

Pats on the backs all round lads

Pats on the backs all round lads

Well done Newcastle United. The lads showed something yesterday that I really did not think they had – guts. Apart from a pretty brainless decision by Yanga to pull down a guy in the box (who doesn’t need too much persuasion to hit the deck) it was a real gutsy performance filled with passion and quality.

A lot of criticism has flown the way of the team when it comes to mentality, backbone, balls – or lack of them. I know I certainly have doubted the character after watching performances like Man City, Everton and Hull. I am as equally surprised as I am delighted with what we got served yesterday – more please! You don’t always get that feeling after a home draw, but the fact that it was against a Liverpool team who embarrassed us last season, added to the fact that we were down to ten men for more than half the match, pride is the word. Not often we have been able to say that, hopefully it sets us up nicely for the trek down the road to the cultural utopia that is S*nderland.

I still think that when we go a goal down that we struggle to get a grip and heads go down, the proof will be in the pudding if we can turn a game round. But I digress.

People will always want to knit-pick, the pundits scrutinising, replaying and analysing every key moment, telling is all how it should and shouldn’t be done – with the beauty of hindsight and super slow motion. But it’s a game played on split second decisions that happen in real time and in the blink of an eye. Sure we probably could have done a little better for their second equaliser, but sometimes you just have to accept a decent goal.

Everybody played their part in the game, in which we hit the ground running from the first whistle. No doubt the memory of the last meeting spurred them on. No team talk would have been necessary prior to the game.
Did all the simple things right, defended as a team from the front and didn’t give Liverpool time on the ball. Great stuff man. Until Yanga Boumsong-Bramble Mbiwa blew his beans, Liverpool had not had a whiff. Had we gone in at half time one nil up with eleven on the pitch – who knows? However, you never really fancy that one goal for this Newcastle team is enough. And so it was proved.

When we took the lead through that worldy from Cabaye my head nearly burst with Friday night’s ale still sloshing around my skull! What a strike lad. He must have been 35-40 yards out, like all good tales the distance will probably get further each time it’s recalled!

It had given us something to fight for and protect. We did that proudly through some fierce and stubborn defending, until the clanger. Did anyone doubt that Gerrard would slot past Krul? I mean howay he always bloody scores against us! He is a bit of a mardy faced git, but what a player he has been. God I would love it if we had one of our own come through the ranks like him. One of those few special players who could in his day win games on his own.

I must admit that I feared the worst for the second half, it was going to be tough. But I was wrong again, spurred on by the brilliant Dummett’s sneaky-eye left foot volley, we had something to fight for again. Aye it was inevitable that as the game wore on, the legs would naturally tire and that the bin dippers would get chances – Gouffran seemed to be breathing out his backside at one point. But he had grafted his socks off. To be fair everybody did. We still looked dangerous on the break, Remy really offers a great out ball on that left side.

The equaliser came, but we held out for what in the end was a morale boosting point. So hey-ho it ended all square. Probably a fair result, in a game that had everything. Congratulations to the lads and indeed Pardew, we are quick to slate them when they are poor, let’s give them praise when its due. Pardew gambled with his team selection and it paid off. Fair play mate.

With the game played on the back of the Anti-Ashley protest, it just goes to show that it can be done and not be detrimental to the team performance. In fact if anything, it made them play better! Coincidence? Can a protest march be carried out before every match!?

Upwards and onwards to the badlands…

Keep smiling.

NUFC – Red peril prior to a dance with the Devil

Can we make it up-to and beyond Halloween in one piece?

Can we make it up-to and beyond Halloween in one piece?

What’s that coming over the hill? Is it a monster, it’s a monster…

Halloween, gore, blood-curdling screams and of course the M*ckems.

That tingling in the spine increases as we draw nearer yet another duel with the dark side. The unavoidable stress of a trip to visit the monsters of the black lagoon is upon us once more.

But before we reach that gruesome encounter, we have to deal with the lingering nightmare that lurks only one week before – the marauding red peril of Merseyside.

SJP had never witnessed such a one sided blood bath in 80 odd years. A cricket score was dished out on a day that could have come straight from a horror movie. It was such an horrific massacre that it’s black shadow has never left the club, or indeed Alan Pardew’s side.

Like Edgar Allen Poe’s Raven tapping at the door – it won’t go away. With our trousers taken down and backsides well and truly spanked, the result and performance shrieked from the roof tops that trouble was brewing at the Cathedral on the hill.

The fact that this home result had been preceded by being toppled by the unwashed, just added to the growing fear that all was not well and the stench of relegation choked the throats.
As we all know, we escaped the relegation trap door by the skin of our teeth – but the form of last season has left us all haunted.

Since then our resident ghoul JFK, managed to drag one player over the magic line in the transfer window. A case of “we know what you did last summer” – f&ck all. But Joe tried his hardest bless him, and his hectic schedule of Hotel and Airport Bar lounge rendezvous left him very tired and emotional.

Don’t get me wrong, Remy has turned out to be a revelation so far, but for how long like? We will all be happy whilst he keeps banging them in (just as well somebody is by the way) but we will all be pretty hacked off if, or indeed when, he toddles off into the heat of the Brazilian sunshine for a World Cup (shop window) bonanza, without having any agreement in place. Who is to bet against that happening and us being taken to the wire again in yet another summer of striker-angst.

United have been described as Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, referring to the schizophrenic nature of their performances. The Toon have swung so much so from disaster to glory with no in-between that it has left all and sundry scratching their scalp to the skull in bewilderment. Most frighteningly for us, at the top of the baffled list includes the bloody team manager. If he can’t put his finger on it, God help us all.

The conundrum for me is that we are even more extreme than Jekyll and Hyde. At least there was a reason for that. He took a potion, flipped his pot and ran amok. Victorian Jager bombs no doubt! Depending on which way the wind is blowing, we don’t know whether they can be arsed to put a shift in or not.

It’s up to the gaffer to have them focused and firing from the first whistle, but once they cross the white line, it is up to them to react to the game as it unfolds. If we concede first, we cannot just pick the ball up and gan home to Mammy saying that we don’t want to play anymore. Captain Coloccini needs to step up.

After Hull and especially Everton, the words you will have read – clueless, gutless, spineless, useless, no backbone among a few expletives. Mentality is a huge concern with the team, motivation another. When the going gets tough, the tough get going? When the going gets tough, this lot’s heed just goes. But when they are at it, they really do look like they could give anybody problems.

We are told over and over again that we have a good first team. Agreed, we have some excellent first team players, but team I am not sure. One thing about us that we are certain is that we are the most ‘consistently inconsistent’ team in the league! Like the famous line from Forest Gump – “Newcastle United are like a box of chocolates, you never know what you are gonna get”. Or necessarily like it…

The fixture ball-bag has spewed these two fixtures together and we can only pray to God, Allah, Vishnu, Buddha, Colonel Sanders, Elvis or even the God of Hell fire that we don’t end up on the wrong end of nine against and nil for. My very soul could be lost forever.

Liverpool are in very good nick, Sturridge has been exceptional. Last season he tore us to bits – warning heeded? They are led by a pretty big Cheese ball -fortune cookie logic – soundbite of a manager who makes David Brent seem like the greatest philosopher of the modern era – but that aside he has them playing good stuff and they are going to represent a massive challenge.

What can we expect from the SMB’s? The timing of our meeting probably couldn’t be worse. New manager at the helm, who in his previous incarnations as Brighton manager and Chelsea player was our very own Grim Reaper.
Aye, Gus Poyet has seemingly enjoyed sticking the knife into Geordie hopes over the years. Wembley under Sir Bobby in the FA cup semi’s was the biggest sickener for me. Weeping with joy when Bobby Lee netted, weeping again after those jammy cockney toads smashed and grabbed a cup final spot from us via the boot and noggin of old Gustavo. The twat.

The early exits in consecutive FA cups was not so much down to his managerial brilliance, more to our own deficiencies.

I truly hope that we can ram the reality home to him and that deluded mob, that the last encounter was a blip. Victory for us would be sweet however it arrives, more importantly it could see him off to a bad start and keep them rooted to the bottom of the pile.

But the stark reality is that we stride heed first into the unknown, like a blindfolded mine detector. We might get to the other side unscathed, we might not. Heads or tails? Just hope that come bonfire night that I’ll not be volunteering myself as the Guy following a double dip on the United roller-coaster!

Keep the faith, and a spare pair of kegs handy!