middleagefanclub

Always Look on the Bright Side: Five things that made me smile lately.

It’s been a while since I wrote one of these posts. The delay hasn’t been because I’ve not been smiling, but let’s just say that the last few months have been complicated! Regular readers will know why and at times there’s not been a great deal to smile about, try as I might.

I write these posts mainly to remind myself that life is pretty good at least most of the time. Of course things will test us and our ability to raise a smile and it’s easy to descend into a bit if a fug about it all. Work, kids, obsessions with sports teams, relationships, taxes, traffic…they’ll all test your patience. Every so often though, when I have time to reflect I’m able to realise that there’s plenty to smile about. And every time I write one of these, people let me know that it’s nice to be reminded of the simple things that let us know that it’s not all doom and gloom!

So here we go…what’s been making me smile lately?

I’m running again. Before the last few weeks I hadn’t been out running since the middle of October. I’d missed it desperately. However, a combination of knowing that I needed to be patient with my body (how frustrating!) and the fact that going running genuinely terrified me, had kept me in my slippers rather than my running trainers. Not even getting a fancy new pair of runners for Christmas could tempt me back. While I was poorly I made sure that I went out for a walk most days. I built this up slowly and by mid January was out every day for around an hour. It would wipe me out for the next few hours of the day, but it felt wonderful. As time went on I would go for a walk/run combination on a Saturday morning, but that would mean running probably less than a mile all told. It didn’t really feel like it counted. Then, on Valentine’s Day, with the weather looking wonderful I went out for what was supposed to be a tentative run. I wouldn’t be going far – a couple of miles at most. I even took my son out as a bit of mini support. We ended up doing a 5k in just over 32 minutes and I was beyond thrilled. And beyond exhausted! Since then I’ve done three more runs, gradually moving on in distance each time. My latest was last Wednesday when I managed to run 3.75 miles (just over 6km) in 32 minutes. I clocked my 5k time as 27.49, which I’d normally be disappointed with. But, for the last few months things have been far from normal. Being able to run again and feeling even a little bit of confidence doing it has felt absolutely wonderful.
An unusual location for a jingle. Part of my new running route takes me through a business park. Twice now I’ve found myself grinning from ear to ear as a pie truck has arrived at the park and sounded an ice cream van type jingle to let office workers know it’s ‘pie time’! For those of you who remember the show, it plays the Benny Hill theme tune, which makes me wonder if the boss runs out with all their workers following them in some kind of slapdash column to get their savoury treats!
A snow day! I’ve only been back at work for a few weeks and on a very partial timetable at that. However, when school was closed because of snow at the back end of last week, I couldn’t hide how thrilled I was at getting a free day off! It was a Friday too, meaning a 3 day weekend…unbeatable!
Care Home Movie Posters. Now not only is this a great name for a band, it made for an excellent story too. This was something I read about on the BBC website; the story of how residents at a care home in Bristol had been recreating posters of some of their favourite films. You can read about it – and view some of the images – on the link below, but basically, if you’re not smiling at the octogenarian Godfather or Jean, 92 as Maria Von Trapp from The Sound of Music, then you’re taking life far too seriously!

https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-bristol-64866813

I won’t spoil the story for you by putting the images up, but in looking for further information on the story I did find that they’re not the only care home to have had this idea. Below is a picture from another care home that did the same thing, but with different films. Again, if this version of Reservoir Dogs isn’t making you grin, then I genuinely feel for you!

5. Kids being kids. The final thing that has made me smile lately – that I’m writing about anyway; I’ve smiled more than 5 times lately – came on our snow day. In the afternoon I went for a walk in the snow with my wife and daughter and it made me smile a lot. Firstly, our town looked amazing blanketed in white, as did our view of Leeds. Secondly, watching my daughter attempting to navigate snow, ice and mud in trainers and a pale blue pair of joggers made me laugh a lot. Eventually, she tucked her joggers into her bright blue novelty socks, worn for warmth, not to be seen and slithered her way through the terrain like that. Unmissable.

Towards the end of our walk though, we cut across the bottom of a hill that runs around the edge of the estate where we live. Above us, on various positions around the hill were dozens of children and sometimes parents, sledging and throwing snowballs. It felt like a bit of a throwback to my own childhood with not a mobile phone in sight and instead, just kids being kids and enjoying throwing themselves around in the snow. We even came across my son, messing around with friends that he’s known in primary school, but had since lost touch with a little bit when they went their separate ways at high school. It seemed the snow was uniting us all and not just by imprisoning us in cars stuck in traffic jams for once. Even later on that afternoon, thinking about it made me smile.

I hope you enjoyed reading and that maybe my experiences made you smile a bit too. Whatever you’re doing over the next week or so, make sure that you try to find a moment to allow yourself a smile.

Poetry Blog: ‘Simple as that’

When I was ill – think death’s door to ramp up the drama, dear reader – I had numerous sleepless nights and chunks of these solitary hours were taken up by writing poems. Although I talked a lot about what was going on with my weakling heart, there was still a lot left unsaid. You can’t burden people with everything that’s going on in your head, can you?

As I began to get better and slept more, I sort of forgot about these poems. Some were repeatedly drafted, others clearly unfinished; snapshots of how I was feeling. Some were in a notebook, while others were scribbled down onto random bits of paper retrieved from our ‘drawing cupboard’ which still somehow exists, despite both kids being way beyond sitting at the table drawing. All were collected up and thrown together with the vow that I’d revisit them when the time was right. I took a picture of this one complete with scribbling, arrows, asterisks and late night handwriting. Quite a bit to decipher some months later!

This poem is a bit of a rant, to say the least and the more I read it back, the more I’m convinced I was channeling my inner John Cooper Clarke, yet without his gift for words.

'Simple as that.'

This heart of yours is having a laugh; it's as simple as that.
The sole aim of the holiday was just to relax
but your body wouldn't even allow that 
and instead you collapse at the airport, then
practically pass out on a promenade bench in the heat,
before having to call for help weeks later, 
when giving out paper became a bit too much for your health.
False hope in the hospital once again ended
when they then decided that your heart is need of being mended
and you're treated to an operation surely designed for pensioners
that you cannot help but keep on mentioning as
you're put on a ward with people 30 years older than you
and a crazed Slovakian, who laughs in his sleep and howls at the moon.
Consolation is thin on the ground, unlike the tea 
and the biscuits that shouldn't really be allowed,
you another have scar that is ugly and crap and in truth
your chest is beginning to resemble and Ordinance Survey Map.
Back home you discover a penchant for pyjamas that was never there before
style, much like your dignity has now been slung across the floor
and any remaining semblance of cool has been traded in,
there's no doubt about that, without so much as a crossed word,
let alone a fight and now, my friend, you look like a twat.
On top of this, you cannot leave the house without a hat
to keep you warm, cannot get to sleep until it's almost dawn,
cannot wash properly, cannot tie your own fucking laces, 
cannot walk down the street with anything other than shuffling paces,
you cannot run, you cannot dress yourself, cannot rant, cannot rave
and now you look like a tramp because you cannot shave
meaning that, as December looms with its festive banter,
your surprisingly white beard has you turning into Santa
and as life is forced down this prematurely ageing path,
this heart of your is having a fucking laugh.

So clearly I was a bit on the angry side then! And it’s easy to look back now and smile about it all, but believe me it was a horrible time in my life. Around 4 months of being stuck either in hospital or at home, feeling a bit sorry for myself, fending off peoples’ best wishes and enquiries and bein unable to do very much at all. And even before that, we were unable to enjoy a holiday because I collapsed in the airport. I suppose it’s all there in the poem! Apologies for the swearing if that’s offensive, by the way. Just words to me and words that had to be in there in order to capture my feelings, but I know some people don’t like that kind of thing.

I rarely bother with rhyme but in this poem I’ve made a conscious effort to use it. I was determined though that it wouldn’t be a simple rhyming poem. Instead, I opted for mixing up the rhyme so that while for large parts of the poem it’s quite traditional, occasionally I threw in a bit of internal rhyme just to mess with the structure. I wanted to do this just to try and reflect the disorder in my life at the time. I mean, for quite a while I never knew when I was going to simply fall asleep – often in the middle of a conversation – so it was hard to enjoy an ordered, planned day!

I wanted to present the poem as a bit of a rant and so there aren’t many end stops in there. Believe me though, when you’re sat on your own, wide awake at 3am, you can become prone to a bit of a rant, even if they have to be quiet ones!

As ever then, I hope you enjoyed the poem. Feel free to let me know what you thought!

The Curious Case of the Newcastle United Academy.

There are thousands of legendary, unfathomable mysteries across our planet that stretch back as far as time itself. Big Foot; allegedly photographed stalking through a forest in Northern California many years ago, but neither hide nor hair seen since. The Loch Ness Monster; sonar deployed across the loch, grown adults upping sticks and living there glued to a pair of high powered binoculars hoping to catch a glimpse of what might well be some big tyres. And the Bermuda Triangle; so mysterious and fascinating that Barry Manilow wrote a song about it.

None of these make me wrack my brain for answers as much as Newcastle United academy system. Here is an organisation where every year a series of adolescents and grown adults go into work and seem to either stop functioning or disappear altogether and nobody seems to be able to figure out why.

As a supporter of some 40 odd years, I’ve seen many an academy product fall by the wayside. A succession of young men, thought to be among the best footballers the region, who then pull on the black and white shirt only to descend into non league football at best within a matter of a couple of years.

However, I’ve also even seen a relatively small number play for the first team before moving on to global stardom. That’s how old I am!

For as long as I can remember our academy system has puzzled and disappointed me. I don’t mean to speak ill of people who I respect – Steve Harper, Ben Dawson for instance – but something isn’t working. It hasn’t really worked for years, which clearly isn’t the fault of the two individuals mentioned above. Sure, there have been some successes over the years with appearances in an FA Youth Cup semi final as well as a smattering of players who’ve made the step up to the first team. But Sir John Hall’s dream of a team full of Geordies is around thirty years old now and it’s not been anywhere near happening. To put it simply, we don’t seem to be handling young footballers very well and with the greatest of respect, for every Sean there’s a Matty.

Our owners seem to be taking the academy very seriously indeed and are clearly intent on building the club from the ground up with investment in youth. Recent social media posts show that the club are advertising for emerging talent scouts across Europe and South America, so they’re clearly working hard to change our fortunes. The work of Dan Ashworth will hopefully ensure that there’s a positive change going forward, but at the moment, from the outside looking in, you almost couldn’t argue with the view that things are as bad as they’ve been in a very long time.

It’s easy to lay the blame at the door of Mike Ashley for the lack of success within our youth system. What he initially seemed to view as a priority very quickly became just another area of the club where he’d gladly cut corners.

Every season seemed to bring new faces to Newcastle who’d simply been released by other Premier League clubs on top of a succession of local lads deemed good enough to wear the shirt. It seemed to be that we might just be hoping to spot something that another club had missed in a kid that had been at said club for over a decade. So, we can probably assume that here Ashley and his cronies were treating the academy as just another gamble. A scattergun approach that showed no patience or planning whatsoever. Who knew?

Look past the Ashley years though and nothing really changes. Our last FA Youth Cup final appearance was when we won it in 84/85. I was there to watch the likes of Gazza, Joe Allon, Gary Kelly and Brian Tinnion draw the first leg 0-0 at a packed St. James’ Park, before winning the second leg 4-1. Four of the starting eleven on those nights went on to make a decent number of appearances for the first team. One, Gazza, would go on to become possibly the most naturally gifted footballer that these shores would ever produce. We’ve produced players of first team calibre only sporadically since and there’s been nothing remotely like a Gazza. Instead, players like Lewis Gibson and Bobby Clark have been allowed to leave for other Premier League clubs.

Historically, we seem to have missed out on many of the best players that the region would produce. Bobby and Jack Charlton, Bryan Robson, Ray Kennedy, Michael Carrick and Alan Shearer all slipped the net over the years. And that’s just a list of some of the very best – there have been plenty others who should have been picked up by scouts, but instead went elsewhere. Three of those would go on to captain England and only Shearer ever played for the Toon.

Nowadays, it continues to happen with wonderkid and alleged transfer target, 15 year old Chris Rigg signing for Sunderland, despite reports of the emotional pull of Newcastle United, who his entire family apparently support. Whether we sign him or not, it’s a failure of the system that he was missed in the first place.

What strikes me about our academy nowadays is that there seem to be regular changes in coaching and directorship. With a little bit of thought and 5 minutes worth of googling I can name Ben Dawson, Joe Joyce, Steve Harper, Peter Ramage, Elliot Dickman, Neil Redfearn, Alan Irvine, Neil Winskill, Kevin Richardson, Richard Money, Gary Caldwell, Peter Beardsley, Tony Caig and Graeme Carrick. All have been involved in the academy over the last 15-20 years, some for what felt like 5 minutes. And I’m sure that there will have been a lot more that I couldn’t name. I’m sure that some have done a great job too, but we still aren’t producing players as regularly as we should be. Now, I don’t pretend to have an in-depth knowledge of how academies work, but I’m guessing that the better ones have a much smaller turnover of staff than we seem to have.

Our system has also been subject to much controversy over the years, with alleged bullying, mistreatment and racism making the headlines. It can’t make good reading for potential recruits and their families. Certainly, if either of my children were good enough to attract the attention of professional clubs – sadly they’re not – then I’d be looking at how they’d be looked after pretty closely. Allegations of racist abuse and bullying would make me look elsewhere, whatever my allegiance. As a fan, it’s definitely something about the system that alarms me and it cannot be helpful for the progress of players.

In terms of other successful academies, it’s not just the obvious places like Chelsea and Manchester City where we might cast an envious eye. Southampton’s system has been superb for years, while Leeds United continue to produce a steady stream of players for the first team, as they have for decades now. Even teams like Charlton, Sheffield United and Crewe have academies that make ours look like a waste of time.

Further afield, enormously successful clubs like Bayern Munich and Barcelona may well splash the cash on superstars, but their academies produce them too with the likes of Thomas Muller, Jamal Musiala, Gavi and Ansu Fati playing now as well as countless others from the past. Lionel Messi, anyone? Whichever end of the spectrum you look, we seem to be lagging behind.

This season has been strangely familiar for our youth teams in terms of results. Our Under 18 team currently sit in 10th place in the their 14 team league, having won just 4 league games all season. Meanwhile, our Under 23 team are 8th in their eleven team league, again having won only 4 games out of 15. While I understand that it’s not simply about winning at that level and that we do seem to have some talented young players in the set up, surely we should be aiming for better results than we’re getting? The fact that Elliot Dickman was relieved of his duties just over a year after taking the job says a great deal about where our youth system seems to have been heading.

Eddie Howe has been proactive with the youth set up from the start, bringing various players up to train with the first team, talking them up in the press and taking them in match day squads. Still though, only Elliot Anderson seems even remotely close to making the step up on a permanent basis. Others have been sent out on loan, but this is a route that sadly just doesn’t seem to work at all.

It’s to be hoped that Dan Ashworth, Eddie Howe and his staff can start to make progress with this side of the club and that we can start to see more young players coming through in the not too distant future.

I was reading an article on the BBC website about the approach to homegrown players that is taken at Real Sociedad recently. Sixteen of their current squad are homegrown and over the years they’ve had a hand in the careers of Mikel Arteta, Martin Odergaard, our ex player Mikel Merino, Alexander Isak, as well as current Premier League managers Javi Gracia, Julien Lopetegui and Unai Emery. Their sporting director, Roberto Olabe stressed the importance of patience and perseverance, saying “At 14, 15, 18, 20 I know of no architects or musicians that are outstanding, so it is very difficult to discover a football player at that age too. A player needs time.” He spoke about not sitting back and waiting to see how a player develops, but of moulding young players and offering professional and emotional guidance and of course of giving them the right amount of time and experience in order to develop.

It struck me that the attitude I was reading about sounded like the attitude I’d read about from Eddie Howe and what I expect from a figure like Dan Ashworth. So, maybe there is hope.

Clearly, Newcastle United have a problem to solve with the academy and it does seem that the new owners are being proactive in finding solutions. It would be wonderful to be seeing a good number of local lads in the first team squad, able to hold their own. But, like the message we get about the development of the first team – evolution not revolution – this will not be an overnight change. Hopefully though, the foundations are being laid and if we can just be patient for a little while longer, the young players of the future won’t be lost like Shearer, Robson and the Charltons, so badly let down like Matty Longstaff or allowed to go backwards like Sean Longstaff under the previous regime.

Here’s to the future of NUFC. Hopefully it’s in safe hands at long last!

Book Review: ‘Mix Tape’ by Jane Sanderson

They say that you never forget your first love, don’t they? I mean personally, I’d like to wipe the entire thing from my memory, but it’s pretty much impossible due to the nature of that particular car crash of a relationship! But I’m guessing it’s very different for lots and lots of people who manage to cling on to those warm and pleasant vibes for life.

Dan and Alison are two such people. And despite the somewhat life-changing nature of their break up and the fact that they’ve made successful lives separately elsewhere, both retain strong feelings that unbeknownst to them, are just waiting to be dug up.

‘Mix Tape’ is a story that millions of us can relate to. First love, first lust, first dates, first kiss, first fumbles. Whatever romantic firsts they were, they’re all in the back of our mind somewhere just waiting for an image or a film or just a phrase to release them back into our consciousness for even a few minutes. With Dan and Alison it’s music that’s the key to their past as well as their future.

Having fallen headlong into teenage love and discovered a mutual passion for music as well as each other in the 70s, fate intervened and life, however painfully, moved on. Now, many years later and into a new century while living in new countries, social media and music could be about to intervene and spark old feelings back into life.

If you’re a music lover, you’ll love this book. It was the link to music that prompted me to buy it in the first place. I even wrote a blog about mix tapes (link below), having listened to Jane Sanderson being interviewed about the book on BBC Radio 6 Music with Lauren Laverne. But it will appeal to the social media devotee in us all too, as well as those who are just soppy enough to enjoy a good love story.

Whatever Happened to The Mix Tape?

In their younger years together Dan had made mix tapes for Alison as a way of expressing himself, while also introducing her to new music. Years later, via social media their choice of songs will serve to help them get to know each other once more, as well as giving oxygen to a flame that never quite died out, despite the way their time together had ended.

Beginning in 1970s Sheffield, the story jumps from back then to the present day throughout, showing us the various contrasts in the lives of our two protagonists. We learn that after leaving Sheffield, Alison somehow ended up on the other side of the world in Adelaide. She is successful and seems happy. Meanwhile, Dan’s life has changed too and he too has moved away from his home town, now residing in both Edinburgh and London. He has turned his passion into a career and is now a successful writer as well as a music journalist. Both appear to have made good lives for themselves and moved on from their passionate teenage time together. But appearances can be deceptive.

‘Mix Tape’ is a lesson in the power of both music and social media. It shows how one simple click can change lives, both for better and worse. Music is the bond that keeps Dan and Alison together, however far away they might be from each other and so when Dan rediscovers Alison via Twitter and sends her a song as a reminder of the old times, we sense that it won’t stop there. We know that this first love is one that still has unanswered questions. It’s just a case of whether they’ll remain unanswered…

The characters are really relatable and I found myself really liking both Dan and Alison. But away from the characters, the story may test your morals too. But I’ll leave you to discover that for yourself. Sanderson’s brilliant descriptions of sights and sounds also bring her locations to life too. So it was nice to be informed of both a Sheffield that I hadn’t visited – as opposed to the modern day city that I’d say I know quite well – as well as the delights of Adelaide with its flocks of parrots, natural beauty and year round heat.

The use of songs as a narrative device to help Dan and Alison reconnect is brilliant too. Not only does it give us a real sense of what the characters are about and who they really are, but it has an effect on us as readers too. I found myself connecting with the songs that became the playlist for the narrative. Where I already knew the song I’d invariably have a memory connected to it and when I didn’t know the song, I looked it up, so ‘Mix Tape’ has now added some new songs to my playlist.

‘Mix Tape’ is a brilliantly written piece of fiction. The story will keep you engaged throughout and you can’t fail to get involved in Dan and Alison’s journey. The music, social media and geography of the story also give you a lot to get your teeth into as a reader. But, most importantly this is a tory about good people finding each other, despite the barriers that their lives put in place. I’d thoroughly recommend ‘Mix Tape’ – a really well written page turner that you’ll only put down so that you can listen to some of Dan and Alison’s favourite songs!

I give ‘Mix Tape’

Pacemaker Diary: First week back at work? Completed it, mate…

A couple of weeks ago, when I started back at work again it had been 108 days since I’d had a full day at work. On Monday 7th November, 2022 I’d become unwell in my classroom, suffering with heart palpitations and ending up in the Accident and Emergency department of the Leeds General Infirmary. Later that night, I was admitted to a ward. And so it began…

At that point, I thought I’d have to have a few days off work. That wasn’t to be. Even when I received the news that I would be having a pacemaker fitted though, I reckoned I’d be back in my classroom within a week or so. So, the 108 days ‘rest’ has been a tough one to swallow. It’s kind of exposed my lack of medical knowledge too!

My employer has been amazing about everything. While I was off I was regularly reassured that I just needed to take whatever amount of time was needed in order to get better and every time I said that I felt guilty for being away from work, I was told to stop it! Each time I submitted a new sick note they reassured me that it was no problem at all.

Then, when it came to the time to think about starting back, they put a plan for a phased return in place. It’s a flexible plan that just depends on how I’m feeling and it has eased me back in incredibly gently. This in turn makes me feel very guilty all over again, but I guess that’s just something I need to get over!

My first two days were treated as KIT (Keep In Touch) days, designed for me to just get used to being back in the building, really. So there was no teaching. In fact there wasn’t much at all. But, as I quickly found out, I needed to just get used to being around the place and the people.

On my first Monday, I was beyond nervous as I drove in. My hands were shaking and I felt physically sick, even though I’m always very comfortable at work. However, as I attended our morning briefing it was genuinely lovely to see so many friendly faces and speak to people who were pleased to see me back at work. Literally nobody knew I was ill at the time and so I think it had come as a bit of a shock to more people than I would ever have imagined. There were handshakes and pats on the back aplenty and it really helped to settle the nerves a bit. So thanks, if you were one of those people.

Those first two days were largely spent sat at a desk in our English office, clearing emails and reading through lessons, just to get back up to speed a bit. I tried to stay in there as much as I could get away with as I was finding being around larger groups of people a bit overwhelming. Having spent nearly 4 months being on my own a lot of the time, 900 kids and over 100 staff was a bit of a culture shock. A far cry from shuffling around the local park and muttering to myself about dog walkers!

On Wednesday I taught my first lesson. It was only Year 7 and only an hour, but it felt amazing. I surprised myself with how easily I slipped back into teacher mode and I thoroughly enjoyed myself, despite the presence of an Ofsted inspector in the room next door! I was assured that they wouldn’t be allowed to come into my lesson, but I still feared that they might just go rogue!

By the end of the hour I was exhausted. My mind was racing, but thankfully my heart wasn’t. My legs were like jelly and I felt like I’d done some kind of comprehensive workout. I’d taught a lesson which felt fantastic, but more importantly, I’d taught it in the room where I’d become ill on the day when I ended up in hospital. I was very concerned about being back in there, but it was OK. So far, a couple of weeks on, there have been no flashbacks either. It’s not that I thought there would be, but these kind of things happen all of the time on the telly, so you never know! Maybe I’ll add the flashbacks in when the inevitable call comes in to make the film of my dramatic pacemaker journey!

I was supposed to teach another Year 7 lesson immediately after the first one, but I knew part way through the first that I wouldn’t be able to do it. Luckily there was already a cover teacher in place; another example of how work are looking after me.

I left work every day that week at around 11.30am to go home. I can’t thank them enough for that. I genuinely feel that I want to be looked after. But I also feel conflicted by this. I know that the phased return plan is for the best, but it’s still frustrating in a lot of ways. However, as I’ve been told time and time again, I have to listen to my body and at the moment it’s telling me that while I’m well enough to be back in work, progress is going to have to be made with baby steps. So as frustrated and guilty as I might feel, I’m going to have to swallow my pride and be a big boy about it all if I’m going to get myself back to normal.

I’m happy to report that I had a lovely first week back at work. The fact that Ofsted turned up to inspect the school just as I was coming back is very much typical of my luck, but even that didn’t spoil the experience at all. My colleagues made sure that I was shielded from all of the stress and from my point of view, it was nice to be able to act as the voice of experience and pass on some words of advice at stressful times over the two day visit. It made me feel ever so slightly important again; something I haven’t felt in a while.

It was great to be back and feeling like I had a purpose. Better still to know that my body is just about standing up to the strain, even if I did leave yawning every day! I even snuck in an after work run on the Thursday because there was no one at home to tell me not to and it was a lovely sunny day. It felt great, even if when combined with a morning at work, it wiped out my afternoon. It reassured me though, that hopefully, I’m going to be alright. I just have to take things one day at a time. and stumbling step by stumbling step until I get to the top of this particular mountain.

Thanks to everyone who’s helped me through these last few months. Some of you will know who you are, while others won’t realise just how much they’ve helped. Thank you from the very bottom of my overly scarred, but machine controlled heart. And sorry again for what I’ve put you through.

Poetry Blog: Could I Just Apologise…

This is a poem written while I’ve been away from work, poorly. I’ve had a lot of time on my hands – just over 3 months – yet been unable to do a great deal. Sometimes I’ve been restricted to simply sitting around, lacking the concentration span to read or watch anything on telly. And what better to do while sitting around than to think things through?

One of the things I’ve thought a lot about is myself. That’s not because I’m some kind of self obsessed ego maniac, but rather I’ve had a lot of time to be critical. This has been mainly about my tendency to hide my feelings, but I’ve also done a lot of thinking about the kind of person I am. I mean, we all need a little bit of target setting and self evaluation, don’t we?

Anyway, the result was this poem where I pretty much admit to being a bit of a let down!

Could I Just Apologise...

Having played at being an adult for every last one of my adult years,
having bumbled through for longer than I care to remember,
having come to the realisation that I might never make
the fully formed person that perhaps you may have expected me to be,
could I just apologise...
for still chewing my nails or tapping them on my teeth,
for resenting having to bother cleaning said teeth,
for the kitchen ceiling and its unfinished paintwork, stretching 
into however many years it's been incomplete for,
for not understanding Bluetooth, especially in the car and
for the obsession with trainers, books and football.
I should also say sorry for the inability to pick up the phone or ever answer it,
for inhabiting my own little world,
for retaining the need to constantly amuse myself above all others,
and for the tendency to zone out while people talk.
And while I'm at it, I'd best apologise for the for the forgetfulness, 
for the garden,
for leaving plugs switched on,
for never paying the water bill until the final reminder,
for not paying cheques into the bank,
for the terrible wrapping,
for the piles of post, the piles of notes
and the piles of clothes,
and for slowly turning into my dad, but with the thought processes
of an 11-year-old.
Finally, sorry for the fruitless ideas,
for the skinny body with the pot belly,
for never tying that plant up,
for buying too much chocolate and the addiction to crisps, 
for the aversion to vegetables...and fruit
and for the many thousands of things across the years that I can't even 
remember, but have no doubt have happened.

If I read that poem back, it feels like it’s addressed to my wife, which would feel appropriate. Even if we discount the last twenty odd years, I feel like I’ve got a lot to apologise for! Having hidden my illness from her for around 6 months, that would make a good place to start.

In terms of being quite an awkward personality and at times maybe a little bit of a pain, I’ve got a lot that needs explaining. The apologising is kind of tongue-in-cheek though. I’m sure I’m not any more of a pain to be around than lots of others. Everyone has their foibles, after all. But I’m aware of my faults and in the end they seemed to be something I could make a light hearted poem out of rather than something to worry too much about.

I hope you enjoyed the poem. As ever, feel free to leave a comment as it’s always interesting to see what people make of my poetry.

Ed & Jase’s Sunday Night Takeaway!

Five things we can take away from the Carabao Cup Final.

It didn’t end the way that we all wanted it to, but last Sunday, however you watched the game, was a one that will live long in the memory. Once I’d stopped sulking I wrote a few things down about what we might take away from our Carabao Cup final. So, for what it’s worth, here you go.

We’ve arrived. If we didn’t know it already, we’re kind of a big deal nowadays. It’s not that we haven’t been a big club before Sunday and it’s not like we weren’t getting noticed. But Sunday’s Carabao Cup Final appearance will have made a big difference. It’s not because of the performance on the pitch because while we were OK, we didn’t pull up any trees and certainly didn’t play to our potential. What will have made people sit up and take a bit of notice is first of all, the fact that we made it to a final. We were there. The effort put in by our fans will have been difficult to ignore too and I imagine that images of the black and white flags around Wembley, as well as the events around Trafalgar Square on Saturday night, will have gone right around the world. I mean, who could ignore a gazebo in a sea of black and white at a major London landmark? Sunday at Wembley will have been noted by potential sponsors, by kids around the world and by potential transfer targets and who knows; maybe some time in the next 10 years or so, when we sign some superstar wonderkid, they’ll be telling reporters about not about watching ‘Goal’ but about watching Twitter videos of fans coming off trains at Kings’ Cross singing about ‘that team we call United’ and thinking, I’d love to be a part of that some day.
Our city has pride again. I’m no longer a resident of Newcastle, haven’t been for years. But it’ll always be home, always be my home town. And watching fans at Wembley, listening to players speak of their desire and their pride had me close to tears. Make no mistake about it, Sunday was a big deal despite what some will tell you about a Mickey Mouse cup, and we can be proud of every last minute. We’ve gone from being the laughing stock of football during the Ashley years to being a team, a club and a city that absolutely matters. We’re a talking point again and we’re competing in meaningful games at the top level of English football. Even the stupidest of mackems can’t deny that.
The team have gained vital big game experience. It’s an obvious thing to say, but this team has come a long way in a very short space of time. And while the likes of Kieran Trippier have been there and done it, when you have a look around the squad there’s not a lot of that kind of thing knocking about. Some have made appearances at World Cups and Euros, but in terms of club football, big game experience is lacking. While the game itself clearly didn’t go to plan, the all round experience will be invaluable to our players. From young kids being around the squad for the week of build up to those players who got minutes at Wembley, it’s money in the bank so to speak. Let’s not forget the management team too, the majority of whom haven’t had such unique experience before. Eddie Howe’s notebooks will be like the complete works of Shakespeare after that one! There should be no doubt whatsoever that we’ll be back playing in big games in the near future. Now though, we’ll be armed with a bit more knowledge and a bit more experience and I feel sure that it will be vital in making a difference.
The squad needs investment. Manchester United boasted game changers with genuine quality in their eleven. De Gea, Martinez, Casemiro, Varane, Fernandes and Rashford all just had a little bit too much for us on Sunday. Even their bench had real quality sat there watching. And Harry Maguire. Meanwhile, we might well have ‘Bruno in the middle’ but genuine star quality is a little thin on the ground. What we have is a good Premier League eleven that are overperforming. Don’t get me wrong, we have some fantastic footballers in Tripps, Maxi, Miggy, Isak etc, but six of our starters were at the club during the Ashley years. Some of the squad were part of our Championship winning squad. These are players that have been outstanding for the club and they’re players that we love. And while I still don’t wish to deviate from the ‘evolution not revolution’ stance and have no problem with what Eddie Howe and the ownership are doing, it’s clear that more quality is needed.
We have to move on. For what it’s worth I thought we played reasonably well on Sunday. There were chances missed, blocks made and a little bit of bad luck going the other way. I mean, I think the better side won, but you’ll never convince that first goal was onside. You could make the VAR screen look like a child’s Etch-a-Sketch and I still wouldn’t say it was onside. Nor was it a free kick in the first place. What’s important now is that we move on quickly. There can be no hangover. Not with the likes of Fulham, Brighton and Liverpool chasing us and Spurs within touching distance in fourth place. Personally, I don’t want to settle for finishing 6th or 7th having also had a cup final appearance. I happen to think we’re better than that. I don’t think the players will sulk, but I hope some of our bigger hitters start grabbing games by the scruff of the neck now and pushing for one of those Champions’ League places. I hope that days like Sunday have whetted a few appetites.
Can someone have a word with Loris Karius about those gloves please? I wasn’t concerned about his past mistakes. I didn’t dwell on the fact that it looked like he could have saved their second goal. But sweet Jesus, I couldn’t get those gloves out of my head. It looked like he was playing in the kind of driving gloves last seen in the 70s or on the hands of present day octogenarians as they drive incredibly slowly to the shops. Brown bloody gloves? We might have got beat, but Manchester United should hang their heads in shame at the fact that only scored twice against a bloke that looked like he’d borrowed his gloves from Alan Partridge.

Let’s hope that we get Sunday out of our systems as quickly and that we can and end the season as strongly as possible. It’s been a hell of a season so far and I really hope we can keep on putting noses out of joint!

Howay The Lads!

The Carabao Cup Final: Let’s get positive!

Who would have thought it? Who would have imagined that we’d have travelled so far in such a short space of time? But, we have indeed come a long way and it’s fair to say that it’s been an amazing journey to be even a small part of.

When the takeover finally happened in October ’21, we all dreamed of something fantastic for our club. Just different levels of amazing, I suppose. While some fans imagined the signings of Messi and Mbappe, others dared to dream that we might, just might, see a trophy in our lifetime. Whatever level you dreamed at, we were all just happy to wait and see.

Sunday’s game, whatever your dream, gives us all something to get excited about. Forget the lack of our first choice goalkeeper, forget the opposition and their current form and forget our current habit of creating a ton of chances that we don’t seem able to finish. Sunday’s game is the stuff of dreams and it’s massively important that we throw everything we’ve got at it, both as a fanbase and as a team.

It could be argued that this final is a bit of a shock. Certainly, in terms of Eddie’s mantra of ‘evolution not revolution’ it’s arrived ahead of schedule. But that can’t be used as a reason for us as a fanbase getting our excuses in early. For me, expectations need to be high. This team has come together quickly and surprised lots of us and lots of people in football, but they’ve also proved themselves. Sunday is not just a free hit because we didn’t really expect it; we’ve earned the right to be there and it’s very much a game that we can win.

In our last two cup finals – the FA Cups of ’98 and ’99 – we flopped. Both times, the team looked overawed by the occasion and wilted against better opposition. Both teams contained enough quality to do a great deal better and yet both failed miserably. This year has to be different. Lots of us were devastated by those late 90s failures. I remember being rendered particularly speechless by the defeat in 1999. I remember beforehand, holding a genuine belief that we would win. Not could win it, but would win it. Of course, we didn’t. We were poor, passive, passengers, behind early and never really in the game at all.

I can’t imagine this team being anything less than 100% prepared. Eddie has proved time and again over the last year or so just how far he’s prepared to go to make sure that the team is ready. When he joined the club we were amazed and excited by simple things like his his early starts and active role at training. It was the least we could ask really, but compared to the previous regime’s habits with days off and openly admitting to a lack of interest in tactics, Howe and his team were a revelation; something to grab onto. And that has continued throughout this season to the point we’re at now and a visit to Wembley.

There are positives wherever you look in the squad. A defence that is among the best in Europe. Players playing with a renewed enthusiasm and style in Miggy, Joelinton, Sean Longstaff and Fabian Schar. The return of Bruno, possibly the best midfielder any one of us have witnessed in black and white. The maverick genius of Alain Saint Maximin, who in the last game looked back to his scintillating best. And up front, the choice of either Callum Wilson or Alexander Isak. We’re no mugs and we’re certainly not going there just to make up the numbers. We have a chance, and not just a puncher’s chance either. We can cause any opposition trouble.

I’ve never been an optimistic Toon fan. I think that type of thing was knocked out of me very early on in my life as a supporter. Even when Keegan came along – as a player and a manager – I’d still expect us to lose or I’d worry more about the opposition than anything. I’m still the same, because I think it’s ingrained in lots of us. But for this weekend I refuse to have anything but the utmost faith in this team. This Sunday, I choose positives over negatives.

Recently, Eddie Howe said this: “I believe we can win any game against any team, home or away, if we’re absolutely at our best and I think we’ve proved that this season. We believe the power is in our hands and it’s up to us to perform at our best levels.” No mention of anyone else’s strength. Just Newcastle United’s. I’m with Eddie!

If you’re there on Sunday, sing your hearts out, back the team as usual. If you’re watching on the telly, enjoy it. What an occasion for our club, so soon after many of us had lost almost all hope. Fingers crossed we can bring that trophy home because it’s been a hell of a long wait!

HOWAY THE LADS!

Defining Recovery: It’s not as simple as just resting up.

The idea for this blog came from a tweet that I liked a few weeks ago. It popped up on my timeline just because someone I follow had liked it and I usually scroll straight past most of these ones. However, there was a picture of a man wrapped up, wearing a hat, out in the woods by the looks of things and it made me think of myself doing similar, day after day for these last few months.

The tweet read, ‘Healing is not as simple as ‘rest’. It’s exercising, rehab, falling down, fearing and going deep into the pain and fighting your way back.’

In a strange way, the tweet made my day. Since having my pacemaker fitted and spending months off work, I’ve gone through all manner of stuff, but have lost count of how many times I’ve felt the need to brush it off and tell anyone who’s asked that I’m ‘slowly getting there’.

Over 3 months on from my operation and I thought I’d try to explain my own personal experience of recovery. I haven’t fully recovered and I think feeling that way is actually a long way off, but I think I’ve managed to get myself into a position where I feel a great deal stronger, fitter and more confident about my heart. So, before I start to forget the things I’ve been through, I thought I’d get some of it down.

I didn’t think I’d done a lot of resting, until my family told me otherwise. I was talking about the fact that I thought I hadn’t really got many naps in during my time at home and it brought about a few smiles from those around me. Apparently, the truth is more that I was napping pretty much every day for the first three weeks of being out of hospital. And while in hospital I just felt like I lurched from nap to nap, even pretending to be asleep on a regular basis so that the bloke opposite wouldn’t talk to me!

So in fact, I’ve been so exhausted during my recovery that I can’t even remember how it’s been a lot of the time. The first few weeks are a blur. I know that they featured a lot of pyjama action, a lot of irritability on my part and, so I’m told, a lot of napping. I’m told that there were times where I’d just fall asleep mid conversation, which sounds a lot of fun. I also remember feeling very frightened by it all, worried that one wrong move would pull the pacemaker wires out of place meaning that I’d have to go back into hospital.

When my first sick note ran out – after a week – I had a telephone appointment with my doctor. This made me realise how poorly I was. We spoke for a good while and I felt like I was having to fend him off at times, as he alluded to me going back to hospital. Then, when he settled for just issuing another sick note, he instantly doubled the time that I’d asked for. This was good, in that it settled me down a bit while also making me think that I could find lots of things to do with all of that time. It became bad pretty quickly when I realised that I wasn’t strong enough to even sit and read for over long, before I was nodding off! It quickly felt like it would be a very long month.

There have been quite a few unusual times since then. While recovering, I seemed to develop a bit of a stutter and at times simply couldn’t get the words out. Furthermore, I’d find myself talking about something one minute, then unable to remember a word or where the conversation was going next. And people would tell me about things I’d said and done, but I literally couldn’t remember a single bit of it. And – as per the quote that inspired this – there’s also been a bit of falling down. It’s amazing how many times I’ve taken a tumble when just trying to tie my laces, but that left hand side of mine just wouldn’t work for a good few weeks!

The healing or recovery process has been one of the most frustrating times of my life. I joke about tying my laces, but there were plenty of times in the first couple of weeks where someone had to tie them for me. My wife had to help me get dressed, as well as undressed, including doing things like zipping up my coat and putting a hat on my head if we went for a walk! I hated it, but it’s definitely the kind of thing that keeps you grounded, in terms of how you think your recovery’s going! I found that lack of independence incredibly frustrating and it was something that I struggled to deal with as normally, if something needs done, I just do it myself. Then suddenly you’re in a place where you’re not allowed to even get a glass of water and someone’s started doing your jobs around the house. Awful!

A combination of beta blockers and lack of sleep (I think brought on by taking beta blockers) made me feel like I wasn’t recovering at all. Every day, I’d just feel like I’d taken another hit and was back to square one, which was kind of demoralising. I’d be out on a walk, feeling like I was definitely getting stronger, watching my heart beat not quite hit what it had the day before at the top of a hill and being able to walk just a little bit further and yet I still couldn’t sleep, still couldn’t remember things, still couldn’t hold a conversation without telling someone to forget it because I couldn’t remember what I was going to say!

I struggled to sleep for well over a month. It’s still hit and miss now, but when it was night after night after night, it felt like it might never go back to normal and that being awake until 3am might well be how it was now. As well as leaving me exhausted, it also had me worried that I wouldn’t be able to hold down a job. Because of this, for a good while it felt like my life was about to encounter an even bigger change and it was a fear that didn’t sit well at all with me.

By far the most difficult part of the whole healing process has been the mental side of things. I’ve always felt that I was mentally very strong, but for the last few months I’ve been filled with a kind of fear and doubt that I don’t think I’ve ever experienced before. I suppose it’s kind of a given that I feared I might die, particularly in the early stages when I didn’t fully understand what was going on and then again when I stopped taking beta blockers. I felt that they were absolutely crucial to keeping me safe and so although I was pleased to come off them, as I was assured that they were adding a lot to my fatigue, I was nervous about what could happen when they were taken away.

It’s been difficult adjusting mentally to not being at work. Alongside that though, has been a bit of fear about going back there too. My final episode with palpitations and extreme dizziness happened in my classroom and I’ve not set foot in there since. The prospect of doing so again fills me with trepidation, even though thinking logically, I know it’s not the classroom’s fault. Nor is it work’s fault. But both things terrify me. I went back for an attendance meeting recently and to discuss my phased return to work and despite having worked there for 8 years I was physically shaking when I entered the building. It took me more than an hour to feel anywhere near right again and it was only when I ventured down to my old department that I settled more.

I’ve suffered with guilt the whole way through my recovery. Having covered up what was wrong for over 6 months, I feel awful about what I put my family through. My wife and kids watched me pass out in the airport before we went on holiday, as the palpitations hit and that makes me feel horrible about myself. My daughter has watched me like a hawk ever since and it’s been a balancing act dealing with the guilt as well as stopping myself becoming irritable as she’s asked again and again if I’m alright.

But the guilt hasn’t stopped with my immediate family. I know that my mam and dad have worried too, as well as my sister. Come to think of it, I’ve probably had my most in depth conversations ever with my dad across the time of my recovery as he’s opened up a bit and made it clear that he was worried about me. Believe me, us northern men aren’t always so forthcoming when it comes to our feelings, particularly when we’re of my dad’s vintage!

I’ve struggled with similar feelings where friends are concerned. Nobody knew a thing and I’m not sure what people must think of me for not at least confiding in one of them! Friends from work have had to cover my classes, set my work and even learn to adjust to life without the kind of ridiculously inane emails that I send on a daily basis. I really can’t thank them enough. Knowing that my other kids – my classes – are in their safe hands has eased that particular side of my guilt, but it’s felt like a real struggle. I know people would tell me to not feel guilty, but it’s been hard to avoid.

In all, like the tweet said, recovering has not been as simple as just resting. In truth, it’s been the most difficult time of my life and I’ve had to adjust from being someone who genuinely felt a bit invincible to being someone who has had to face up to just how vulnerable he actually is. It’s not a process I’ve liked and not one I really want to accept, which means that while I head back to work very soon, I’ll have to continue to work hard at my fitness and any mental blocks that might just be lingering.

For now though, returning to work will bring a sense of normality, but definitely not an end to my recovery or any sense of being healed. If you see me at work and ask how I am, I’ll more than likely say ‘good’ or ‘better’. What I mean to say but can’t, is that I feel sh*t scared, utterly terrified, panic stricken at the thought of doing any of this again, as well as riddled with guilt because of what I feel like I’ve put family and friends through. But, to paraphrase the tweet that inspired this, I’ll continue exercising, falling down, fearing, going deep into pain and fighting my way back.

The Second Coming of Miggy Almiron.

I’ll be the first to admit that I was beginning to think he didn’t have it in him. I’d seen the jibes by fans of much smaller, insignificant clubs referring to him as things like Forrest Gump and was starting to wonder if they might have a bit of a point. As each game passed where he didn’t assist or score, I reviewed my previous backing of a player who I welcomed with open – and metaphorical – arms when he first arrived at the club. He seemed to be without any confidence whatsoever and whenever chances arrived and whatever they looked like, it felt like Miggy would squander them.

Yet, through it all there were positives. Miggy had things going for him. That ever available smile was good currency with us fans. Personally, I loved the fact that when he ran there were times when he was like a nodding dog, as if when he nodded his head, however involuntarily, it was giving him added energy. He does a thing where he’s between a trot and a gallop – a trallop? – in order to make sure that he’s first in line for the press…as well as the second and third at times. Again, this makes me smile and helps to show the urgency he feels to help the team.

I’ve always been a fan of the slimmer, more diminutive players, given my own stick-like build. I think I speak for a lot of Toon fans when I say that with Miggy, despite any doubts, I was 100% on his side and really, really didn’t want him to fail.

I’ve got history with the underdogs who’ve worn the black and white shirt. Darren Jackson was a personal favourite. As my dad would say, “more fat on a greasy chip” but he was a player that I loved instantly. We looked similar, so getting mistaken for him a couple of times during his time at the club helped! The same applied to Michael O’Neill – bought for a pittance, stick thin and with that hint of flair and determination that had me rooting for him, despite never really producing the goods consistently. Kevin Brock was another hero. And God knows I was beyond desperate for Kevin Dillon to score for us, despite growing evidence that not only was he a mackem, but he was shite as well!

So, watching Miggy have his break out season this year, in what is now his 5th season at the club, has been nothing short of wonderful.

Everyone must have read or heard the statistic that when he’d scored 9 goals earlier this season, Miggy had got as many as he had in the previous four seasons. In a way, it’s a pretty damning stat. Although Almiron’s chief job isn’t to score goals you’d have expected him to score more than he had. Personally, I thought that the floodgates would at least be left ajar after he scored his first Toon goal in December 2019 against Crystal Palace. And I reckon most of the fans in attendance would have imagined the same. But it didn’t and he would manage only 3 more goals that season. It’s been a trickle on the goals front ever since from a player who I personally would have expected to be pushing for double figures every year.

I wrote an article about Almiron when he signed. I couldn’t wait to see him play, because the snippets of him I’d seen on YouTube coupled with the things I’d read from fans of Atlanta Utd, made me think that we were getting something very special. I normally wouldn’t have got carried away with things like YouTube clips, but this was deep into Mike Ashley’s era and signing Almiron for what may or may not have been a club record, depending on what you believed, had the same impact on me as if we’d somehow cloned peak Maradona and signed him!

Miguel Almiron: A New Hope?

In preparing to write this I read back through that first article and a few things stood out. Firstly, I said ‘with fingers firmly crossed, I’d say we’ve bought a proper player’. I mean, it took some time, but I was proved right, eh?! Like a proper pundit! And as if to add to my application for Soccer Saturday (or maybe just my very own self important YouTube channel to go with all the others) I also said ‘for any player coming into a fight such as ours there will always be a question mark’. Spooky. And it was a question mark that lasted – however faintly it was written – for a few years. Almiron clearly struggled for any sort of consistency for a while and suffered – as most did – under Bruce.

I couldn’t help but wonder if things could have turned out differently sooner for Almiron. If you remember his debut there was that moment at the Gallowgate after he’d been played through on goal and he dinked the ball past the keeper, but onto the base of the post. Would a goal on debut have boosted his confidence enough for us to see the kind of player we’re now watching a few years earlier ? We’ll never know, but certainly his debut performance hinted at the player that was eventually to come. And then I suppose we should ask whether Miggy’s progress was stunted by Rafa Benitez’s over cautious ‘short blanket’ approach. Certainly, if you take his willingness to make runs into the box this season as anything to go by, then you’d have to say yes. There wasn’t a great deal of that type of thing under Rafa. That’s not knocking Rafa, but I wonder if it was more Miggy’s work rate that was the attraction in the first place.

Miggy’s rebirth has been a joy to behold. The smile has returned to his face and he seems to have a particular affinity for playing alongside Bruno. Long may it continue! He seems to be continuously making forward runs in the hope of grabbing another goal and it’s an appetite that never fades.

For me though, the moment that showed that Almiron was a player reborn came as he scored what proved to be the winner against Tottenham at their place in October of last year. If you remember, the ball is nodded down to Miggy out on the right hand side, about 30 yards from goal. He’s actually fouled twice as he runs through a couple of different challenges and in my opinion, the Miggy of a couple of years back would have thrown himself to the floor under either of the challenges. But he doesn’t. I remember screaming for him to pull the ball back across goal because we had numbers in the box, but no, Miggy simply scooped it over Lloris to score. Clearly, confidence was key and for me the main reason for this must be Eddie and his staff.

If memory serves me right, Bruce called Almiron ‘a manager’s dream’ and he was right, although how I remember this when Bruce’s words would invariably send me to sleep, I’m not sure. Typing out that Steve Bruce was right was pretty hard too! But Miggy is a manager’s dream. Hard working, positive, a good level of football intelligence and a willingness to work for the team. It’s a shame that Bruce couldn’t inspire a great deal from the player other than hard work, but a relief that Eddie Howe has come in and seemingly tweaked one or two things in his game and worked wonders, unearthing the player that lurked within.

At the moment, Miggy is Newcastle’s top scorer this year, with 9 goals. Not bad for a winger who does more than his fair share of defensive work. A decent proportion of those goals have been absolute beauties too. His goal against Fulham won him the Premier League Goal of the Month for October. He also claimed the Player of The Month prize for the same month. But then there were his goals against Everton, Spurs and Aston Villa, as well as his diving chest finish at home versus Manchester City!

I think a lot of credit for Miggy’s rejuvenation lies with Kieran Trippier, another player who he’s linked up brilliantly with. You can see that Tripps talks Miggy through games and I feel sure that there’s been a lot of advice imparted on the training ground too. He’s encouraged to make those marauding runs and if he’s not getting through on goal he’s making life hell for defenders.

It’s great to see Almiron thriving. He’s just the kind of lad that you almost can’t fail to want the best for. The infectious smile, the willingness to work for the team and the sheer quality of some of the finishes, especially this season, all combine to make him a fan favourite. When Eddie Howe first came in I’m sure there were lots of us who could have seen Miggy leaving, especially given the financial muscle that the takeover promised. So, it’s brilliant to see that he’s survived. He clearly loves the club and I think the club, including us supporters love him right back.

As we move into the second half of the season, with a Wembley final to come, it would be brilliant to see his form continue. Having ended his mini goal drought on Saturday night against Bournemouth with his 10th of the season, I’d hope this means that we’ve got a few more to come. And wouldn’t it be nice to see him get back amongst the goals at Wembley! Perhaps the biggest stage there could be for everyone’s favourite Paraguayan to be grinning from ear to ear and screaming “Gooooaaaallll!” like a madman!

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