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Gallowgate Cult Heroes: Number 12; Paul Gascoigne.

While we’ve all seen incredible footballers, it’s rare that a player will literally take your breath away. I can’t think of many that we’ve had over the years who would have the ability to do that on a regular basis. Paul Gascoigne took people’s breath away time and time again. Paul Gascoigne took people’s breath away even when he was 18 and making his debut. Paul Gascoigne was a phenomenon. Or to use today’s parlance, he was a generational talent.

I first saw Gazza play in the FA Youth Cup final in 1985. It was a two legged affair and even though we were fairly ordinary in the first leg, drawing 0-0, Gascoigne stood out. He was captain of the side and it was obvious that he had something a little bit special. In the return leg at Vicarage Road they would win 4-1 to take the trophy and Gascoigne starred, scoring twice and just running the show. He was put into the first team squad for their game the next day, but didn’t make an appearance. Paul Gascoigne had arrived.

There wouldn’t be a great deal of point in me rambling you through Gazza’s time in Toon here, minute by minute, day by day. Some of us – of a certain age – will well remember him. And if you’re too young to have witnessed him, there are far better people than me to inform you. Search out his YouTube highlights, track down a book on Amazon or in an actual bookshop or just talk to your mam, dad, uncle etc. You’ll find put all you need to know and then some.

However, it’d be remiss of me not to mention a few things, especially as I have a personal memory of Gazza. So here you go.

I met him once, briefly. When our school was celebrating it’s 75th anniversary – big up the Blaydon Comp massive – part of the celebrations was a sponsored cross country race. Aye, we knew how to celebrate in Blaydon! Now, my form tutor lived next door to Newcastle’s captain at the time, Glenn Roeder, and had arranged for him to come and start the race. Cue much excitement from us Toon fans. Yet on the morning of the race, he wasn’t there. And then Gazza appeared, sent by Roeder himself. From somewhere, a football appeared and suddenly me, some mates and Gazza were having a kickabout! It only lasted a short time, but even then Gascoigne could do things with a football that the rest of us could only dream about. I remember as well that Gazza grabbed another kid and held the starting pistol to his head; if we think about how his personality revealed itself more and more as he got older and more famous it was just Gazza being Gazza, I suppose.

Paul didn’t stay long at Newcastle. His time here was only from 1985 until 1988. But on the pitch he was incredible at times. He was a skilful central midfielder; a great passer with more than the odd trick and the ability and balance to drive past markers as if they weren’t there. The first performance that sticks in my head – as much as anything sticks in my head at this age – was against Blackpool in the League Cup in 1987. It was a second round tie in October and although Newcastle fell behind quite early, we rallied to win in style. Gazza was magnificent throughout and in the second half especially just seemed to be finding himself on the end of chance after chance after chance. He finally scored with a rocket of a first time strike from the edge of the box that nestled in the top corner of the Leazes net. Even at such a young age, he had ran the game.

Later that year he would be pretty much the only positive – apart from the narrow win – in a Simod Cup match at home to Shrewsbury. Less than 8000 were in attendance on an absolutely foul night, to see a terrible game of football. But the one shining light was Gazza. The conditions were horrible – driving rain, freezing cold and a blustery wind, yet it felt like Gazza walked on water.

Another thing I loved about Gazza was watching his warm ups. As a lad of around 15 I would get to the ground early and watch the players warming up and while some would stretch, jog and sprint, Gazza just seemed to spend all his time either pinging balls around, often trying to hit people walking around the perimeter of the pitch or doing keepie ups. He was brilliant and where others were restricted to just their feet and head for ball juggling, Gazza would be using his heel, his shoulders and everything in between.

One of the more staggering things about Gazza’s time in Toon was what Jackie Milburn said about him in an interview. The then News of The World writer claimed that Gazza – at 18 – was “the best in the world”. A bold claim, but hard to disagree with as a wide eyed young Toon fan.

Having made just 92 appearances, Paul would go on to break many a heart in the summer of 1988 when he decided to leave Newcastle for the bright lights of London and Tottenham Hotspur. The £2.2m fee would fund a spending spree for Newcastle, but it could be argued that Gazza would never be replaced. Just four years later and on the back of some staggeringly good performances for England at Italia 90, Gazza would join Lazio. Worldwide fame and injuries though would mean that he would never quite be the same player.

For an all too brief 3 years though, he was our star player and for those who witnessed his greatness, he will never be forgotten.

Were you lucky enough to see Gazza play? Could he really have been ‘the best in the world?’ Let us know!

Middle Age Gigging: The Bluetones at The Crescent in York.

Easter always confuses me. I mean, I get the eggs and the chocolate and stuff, don’t get me wrong. The bunny, I’m not entirely sure of, but it’s the whole Jesus bit that plays havoc with my brain. I’ll be honest, I’m never sure what happened and when. He died and then came back again and I’m imagining died again a bit later. Thankfully, my confusion is allayed this Easter Sunday as I’m off to York to watch The Bluetones and while my knees will probably die midway through the set, I’m sure they’ll be back again by Tuesday…ish.

Balter (thanks people of Bluetones Fans on FB!) are tonight’s support act. They remind me a bit of Vampire Weekend yet wear the jeans of a weekend spent at Spike Island, which it turns out is still a winning combination. The only snag is that they all look like they should be in Year 10 at high school, which instantly makes me feel even older than I am. And I’ll be honest at times that gets in the way for me. As the singer struggles with everything from his pick to his guitar strap I just want to put an arm around him and tell him it’s fine, but he clearly doesn’t need my ‘fatherly’ act and carries on manfully.

One of the last things I was expecting from them was a cover of Twist and Shout. Probably the actual last thing would have been that I enjoyed it…yet, here we are. As with everything they play tonight, it’s just superb. All in all Balter give us an energetic set tonight, full of lovely melodies, bits of Carlos Santana style guitar, sunglasses and engaging songs that are all well received by a room full of people who’ve probably never heard them before. If there’s any justice they’ll go very far indeed.

The Bluetones never fail to make me smile. They never have and tonight is no exception. From the moment they stroll on stage there’s no doubting that this will be yet another fantastic night.

With more new music to promote in the shape of the recently released ‘In the Cut’ EP, this turns out to be a bit of a different set. And it’s nice to greet certain songs like long lost friends, while struggling to remember the words to certain others. But this isn’t really in my skillset anyway and so I’m at times reduced to just dancing, slightly open mouthed and attempting to form the odd word or noise, all the while having a whale of a time regardless!

Beginning the night with ‘Are You Blue or Are You Blind’ followed by ‘Bluetonic’ is akin to having the winning lottery numbers though and so we’re off to a cracking start. ‘A New Athens’ is next and for me is one of the highlights of the set. Then it’s ‘You’re No Fun Anymore’ before Mark almost apologetically – and not without the trademark wit – introduces new track ‘Cheap Hotel’, which sounds great.

Chats with Mark Morris should be prescribed on the NHS, such is his effect on an audience. And he’s in great form tonight taking us on trips that touch on Bargain Hunt and daytime TV, the merits of York, 99p shops and his various experiences in ‘showbiz’, all with a heavy dose of sarcasm and self deprecation and all accompanied by an audience who are only too happy to play along. That said – and it’s a bit of a pet peeve for me – there are those tonight who seem to want to just chat loudly all the way through the set and are calling out stuff like ‘move on’ while the singer has a bit of a ramble. I’m no ‘serious muso’ type, but I’ve always loved music and it’s a genuine thrill for me to see my heroes any time I can, regardless of the fact that I’m far, far from the wide eyed teenager I was once. So, chatty people, f you could kindly fuck off when it comes to any future gigs, that’d be much appreciated, I’m sure by more than just me…

The hits, as they say, just keep on coming though and after a blistering ‘Fast Boy’ we’re treated to ‘Marblehead Johnson’, ‘Billy Balfour (which I swear gets better with every listen) and the wonderful ‘Carnt Be Trusted’ before the aforementioned ‘In The Cut’ makes an appearance and reminds York that these lads have still got the gift for writing fantastic indie pop.

Songs like ‘Cut Some Rug’ and ‘Keep The Home Fires Burning’ feel to me like getting a big cuddle, such is their familiarity, so when ‘The Fountainhead’ comes along it’s like the rare and only kind of group hug that I could tolerate, if that makes any sense.

By now, various joints are telling me that the set is nearing a close, but the sound of ‘Slight Return’ is a shot in the arm and stifles my yawns somewhat. In my defence, I’d taken part in a hotly competitive egg hunt just hours before and I’m no longer of an age when I can easily manage two big events in one day!

The set closes with ‘The Last Song But One’ which I don’t think I’ve ever heard live before followed by the brilliant ‘Putting Out Fires’ but of course we know that it’s not quite over yet.

There’s an encore of new song ‘London Weekend Television’, which feels quite punky and sounds pretty incredible, I must say. Then, given it’s Easter Sunday, we’re treated to a rendition of ‘I was a Teenage Jesus’ which is a real thrill, even if I fail to remember whole swathes of the song apart from the chorus and the line about the ‘coolest sandals’. As I say, I’ve never had much of a memory for lyrics, but it doesn’t spoil the treat!

We end tonight, as is the tradition, with the glorious ‘If’ and although it’s been stripped down and doesn’t include any snippets of The Eurythmics ‘Obsession’, ‘Jump’ by Van Halen or any of the other spontaneous silliness, it doesn’t matter. Tonight has been another triumph for The Bluetones and I’ll take that every day of the week…and even Easter Sunday.

A moment’s appreciation for Kieran Trippier.

As we approach the end of another long and frankly glorious season there are a lot of players due a bit of respect and even adulation. Alexander Isaak has continued to be magnificent, scoring goals for fun. Bruno, Joelinton and Sandro have been amazing and Jacob Murphy has surely been this year’s success story with a real feelgood factor.

One man though, has had his ups and downs over the last year with personal problems and then a bit of a nosedive in form featuring strongly at the back end of last season and the early part of this. And in both of the last two transfer windows it’s looked likely that he would leave. However, since early February he’s had a bit of a renaissance and is back performing at the top of his game. I’m talking of course about Kieran Trippier.

Trippier will forever hold a place in fans’ hearts just for joining the club in the first place! We were 19th in the league when he arrived and it felt like a statement of intent. After all, he was still very much wanted by Atletico Madrid at the time and you’d have thought that he could almost have had his pick of clubs. But Tripps took a leap of faith and joined a clearly ailing Toon, captained us to safety and then went on to help us qualify for the Champions League the season after.

Cracks began to appear last year though and there were high profile mistakes away at Everton and in the Carabao Cup defeat to Chelsea. It looked like time might be catching up with our skipper. A closer look at the stats though reveals that Tripps made 39 appearances for the club last year, as well as a further 10 for England. Maybe the start of this season was always going to be a tough one for a player who turned 34 last September.

Trippier is no longer curling them over the wall and nor is he marauding down the line making overlapping runs. His game has clearly been adapted. But he’s still performed brilliantly in these last couple of months. His defending in the second leg of the Carabao Cup semi final was superb and then he trumped that with a cracking performance in the final, picking up the assist for Dan Burn’s opening goal. He was immense that day and it looked like nothing was going to be allowed to get in the way of him picking up that medal. I dare say there were thousands of sharp intakes of breath when he went down holding his hamstring and yet, he just gritted his teeth and played on. And the emotion at the final whistle showed you exactly what it meant to Trippier.

It’s been fantastic to watch Tripps in this latter stage of the season. You can see that he’s using every ounce of experience gained over the years. He’s looked intensely focused and although he’s no longer the captain, his influence is there for all to see. Whatever problems he’s facing, nothing has been allowed to get in the way of his performances.

One thing I like about Trippier is the way he talks others through games. It’s been brilliant to see how well Jacob Murphy has been doing this season, but I have no doubt that we can put a chunk of what’s been making Murph feel ‘juicy’ down to the encouragement of Trippier. Even when a pass is misplaced Tripps is quick to praise the idea or effort. There’s a little clap or a shout of approval. Furthermore, he’s never slow to pull a team mate over and just have a quick word in their ear when the ball’s not in play, like a coach on the field. Some players seem to be shouting and bawling their way through games almost for effect, but Trippier seems more understated by comparison, which to me seems a lot more positive and effective in bringing out the best in those around him.

For me, it’s that element of wise professionalism that might just help with Trippier’s legacy at the Toon. In Livramento and Hall we have two very young and quite inexperienced full backs who will learn a lot from playing and training day in, day out with Trippier. But then looking further ahead into our future and there’s our impressive young defender Leo Shahar. Shahar has been training with the first team on a regular basis this year and I have no doubt that the likes of Tripps have taken him under their wing, which can only be a good thing.

So all in all, it’s been excellent to see Kieran Trippier back to something approaching his best. Yes, it’s taken injury to get him back in the team, but he’s been fantastic for the majority of that time and his performance in the Carabao Cup final especially will live long in the memory.

Having been linked with high profile moves away in the last year, it remains to be seen if Tripps stays next year, but I personally hope so if only so that those younger players can continue to learn from him, but hopefully because he’s still playing his part in the squad.

The reborn Kieran Tripper; definitely worth a moment of anyone’s appreciation.

Film Review: Sisu

They say that it’s always the quiet ones you’ve got to watch, don’t they? Well, there’s never been a truer word spoken when it comes to Finnish film Sisu. The film’s hero is indeed quiet and you can’t help but watch. It’s just a shame the bad guys didn’t seem to hear what ‘they’ said!

Directed by Jalmari Helander, Sisu is set in rural Finland at the back end of World War 2 where the Germans have adopted a somewhat scorched earth policy to their retreat. They’re defeated and almost broken, but not quite finished with all that Nazi stuff. Determined to leave their mark and inflict just a little bit more pain, they trundle along looking for trouble as they head towards their extraction point.

Meanwhile, not too far away an old miner has finally found gold in them there hills and bagging up the bounty from a rich seam, he’s setting off for town to presumably trade it all in for a big bag full of cash. It feels like it’s inevitable that he’s about to be the next victim of this rag tag band of super villains. But, when they meet things don’t quite go to plan for the bad guys and their tank. This is not just any old miner; this is the legendary Finnish commando, Aatami, nicknamed ‘Immortal’ by the last army to cross his path and who doesn’t take the attempts to steal his gold too lightly.

What follows is brutal, entertaining mayhem and at times is thoroughly hilarious. There’s violence aplenty, much of it unbelievable, some of it ridiculous, but all of it the kind that will keep your eyes firmly on screen. Think Tarantino, think Rambo, think John Wick and think Clint Eastwood’s man with no name from the spaghetti westerns and you’ve got a fair idea of what to expect from Sisu. A film not to be taken too seriously that will seriously entertain.

The film seems heavily influenced by Sergio Leone’s work and the spaghetti westerns like Django that followed. The location is bleak, the dialogue minimal and the violence ferocious and gory. And as far fetched as it gets – and it really stretches the imagination here – you’ll find yourself willing Aatami on. You may well be laughing uproariously at times, but he’s not. Nor is he saying much and yet such is Jorma Tommila’s portrayal of our good guy, especially when set against the almost cartoonish Nazis, that you find yourself desperate to see him killing them in evermore brutal and unbelievable ways!

If you don’t mind a bit of gore and your after a thoroughly entertaining film to watch then I’d totally recommend Sisu. A captivating watch that will make you wince as much as it’ll make you laugh and cheer. Suspend that sense of disbelief and I promise you won’t be disappointed!

I give Sisu…

NUFC The ones that got away: Charles Nzogbia.

Signing young prospects will always have a bit of excitement attached. In the past there’s regularly been the feeling that this one might be the one that makes the breakthrough and triggers something monumental for the team as well as the satisfaction that we might just have beaten all of the other clubs to a bit of a gem. For me, Charles N’Zogbia had all of that and then some. Until we discovered his personality, that is!

Signed from Le Havre after much deliberation and court action, N’Zogbia’s complicated arrival should have been a sign of things to come. But it wasn’t long before he was making his mark on the pitch. I still remember his first appearance as a sub in a game at home against Blackburn and with his pace and what appeared to be a willingness to run at full backs and work for the team, he really made an impression. He didn’t seem afraid to get stuck in and didn’t shy away from hard work. How gullible I was!

Playing as an attacking midfielder or on the right or left wing, N’Zogbia made 41 appearances in the 2005-2006 season and there was much to admire. His pace was blistering, akin to that of former player Craig Bellamy, and he had more than a few tricks in his bag, meaning that he was the kind of player that got the crowd on their feet. I remember him scoring a beauty in the 4-1 away win against the mackems, as well as winning the penalty that saw Alan Shearer score. The club acted fast and Charles signed an extension to his contract that locked down his future. And what a future it looked like being.

Then, it all started to unravel. In his next season, with a new manager in Glenn Roeder, Nzogbia fell a little out of favour with Damien Duff being Roeder’s preferred option on the left wing. N’Zogbia still managed to make over 20 appearances, but didn’t score once. At this point, the first signs of discontent were showing and it looked like the player might be moving on come the end of the season.

However, in the following season, with Sam Allardyce now in the hotseat N’Zogbia was back in favour and made 35 appearances. He signed a new 5 year contract and everything looked positive for the lad. He would continue to produce moments of magic with this season seeing a cracker of a right foot curler at Boro and yet Charles still never quite seemed to be fulfilling his promise on Tyneside.

By late 2008 N’Zogbia’s name would be making the headlines though. Only not quite in the way we might have expected. This was the year when Joe Kinnear, inexplicably named as manager by owner Mike Ashley, called him ‘Charles Insomnia’ in an interview. The player subsequently issued a statement saying that he wouldn’t play for Kinnear again and that he wanted “to reach a higher level of ambition” than Newcastle could provide. Cue late in the January window when he went for £6m to those giants of the game Wigan Athletic and all their higher levels of ambition…

N’Zogbia’s career would see him later join Aston Villa for £10m in 2011. Rumours had suggested that we were interested in bringing the player back to St. James’ Park, but it never happened and instead N’Zogbia spent 5 years in the Midlands making only 80 appearances and scoring just 4 goals. So much for a “higher level of ambition.”

In terms of his time in Toon, N’Zogbia clearly could have achieved a great deal more based on potential alone. However, it seemed to be his attitude that got in the way. N’Zogbia never seemed happy or settled and it always felt like he had a far greater opinion of himself than his managers and coaches had. You wonder what he could have achieved under a coach like Eddie Howe who has transformed the careers of several of our first team squad.

N’Zogbia never seemed like the kind of player who we could depend on. Turns out, he just wasn’t a grafter, preferring instead to pass on the hard work to others in the team. With the ball at his feet he combined electric pace with genuine dribbling ability, but in the end he was living proof that sometimes talent just isn’t enough.

One that got away? I’m inclined to say yes, but am fully aware that only the perfect storm of team mates and manager could have really brought out the best in him. I’m sure that opinion will be divided on this one!

NUFC: Gallowgate Cult Hero number 12 – Kevin Gallacher.

Sometimes a player doesn’t have to stay a long time or do anything remarkable in order to be remembered. Footballing heroes come in many different varieties, I suppose. We tend to cling on to flair players, gasping at their skill or attacking players with a turn of pace. The same can be said for the type of defender who it feels would throw himself into any challenge and perhaps even die for the cause. The workhorse is rarely remembered though.

Kevin Gallacher was very much a workhorse. That’s not a slight and nor is it meant to say that this quality was all he had. Gallacher had pace, even at the late stage of his career when he played for Newcastle. He also had an eye for goal and the quality to beat his marker too. But I think it’s fair to say that it is his work rate and dedication to the cause that left its mark on Toon supporters.

Kevin was 33 when he signed for Newcastle in from then relegated Blackburn Rovers, for £700,000. He had enjoyed a successful career, scoring 100 goals and taking in spells at Dundee Utd, Coventry and Backburn where he was part of their Premier League winning squad in 1995. He was Bobby Robson’s first signing and although he stayed for 2 seasons, his contribution to the cause at a time when we had very real fears of relegation, was very much appreciated.

At times, Gallacher’s work rate galvanised both his team mates and the fans. When Robson arrived at the club we were bottom of the Premier League and the club was in disarray. Players were disgruntled and disillusioned, given what had gone before under Ruud Gullit. The likes of Shearer, Robert Lee and Gary Speed had been undervalued and the club was going nowhere fast. Gallacher was an unspectacular but shrewd signing though; a senior pro, a proven winner and one who would help bring harmony to the dressing room as well as commitment out on the pitch.

In his time at Newcastle Gallacher only made 39 appearances, scoring just the 4 goals. However, his contribution to the team will long be remembered by those of us who watched him play. Playing mostly on the right wing, he led by example, showing energy and a desire to fight that prompted others to do exactly the same. In turn, his energy fed the fans and alongside the obvious changes inspired by Robson who had begun to get the best out of his ‘blue chip boys’ – Shearer, Speed and Lee – the team slowly began to turn the corner and would escape relegation that year.

From Gallowgate he moved on to Preston in 2001 on a free transfer. From there his career took in brief stints at Sheffield Wednesday and Huddersfield, before he retired. He now works as a pundit for Scottish football.

Kevin Gallacher didn’t leave behind any abiding memories from his time at Newcastle. I’ve sat and tried to think of them and they’re just not there. I even scoured the internet trying to find some of his 4 Toon goals without success. However, just by doing the basics – working hard, chasing lost causes and giving everything he had for the club – he would stick in the memory of many a Toon fan for years to come.

Always look on the bright side: Five Things that Made Me Smile in March.

Despite March being a bit of a dull month, there have actually been more than the usual number of things that have made me smile this time around. So, it’s a bumper month for this particular series, which may or may not make you smile in turn.

My daughter’s off travelling. A double edged sword this one. In actual fact, it’s made me a bit sad. She’s a bit of a whirlwind, my daughter, and so the house is far less noisy and chaotic without her, which is both a blessing and a curse. Put it this way; she’s easy to miss! Essentially though, my little girl is far out of reach and that is a huge worry, as well as being something that I admire her for. I’m very proud of her for doing something so adventurous and so brave. So, it makes me smile. In the build up to going travelling she’s worked three jobs (if you include her successful social media career which does actually bring the money in) in order to save up the funds for the trip. She’s gone with a friend and despite the fact that it feels like maybe they should have done more research and it’s all very scary as a parent, they seem to be coping with life in South East Asia and it makes me smile that they’ve had the guts, determination and imagination to get on and do this. Just under two months until we see her again though…

Applestump Records. I read a brilliant and rather inspiring story about record collector Steve Cook on the BBC website this month. As COVID restrictions hit and Steve and his wife were no longer able to indulge their hobby of touring record shops in the pursuit of elusive vinyl, they came up with a plan; bring the record shop to them! Initially they started a website with just 80 records to sell, but when a chance to sell at a pop up market came along they realised that they might well be able to start a shop. And so, Applestump Records was born and now sells not only records and merchandise, but also stages intimate gigs too. Once upon a time, I’d wondered about starting up a book shop, but never did, preferring the safe option. Steve’s story made me smile…but I probably won’t be following his example any time soon. Not this close to retirement!

Youngest Brit to surf the infamous big waves of Nazare. I’ve been fascinated by surfing for as long as I can remember. I even tried it a few times while on holiday in the Algarve. The waves weren’t the best – more like big ripples at times – but for a few days a bit of a storm hit and we were treated to something that made things a bit more of a thrill. Mainly though, my interest was limited to reading books and articles as well as watching documentaries and films dedicated to surfing and surfers, which is how I happened upon the story of Garrett McNamara and the 100 foot waves of Nazare in Portugal. If you haven’t seen it, Google him and Nazare and have a watch. Anyway, to cut what could be a very long story short, 18 year old Robyn Larg from Scotland recently surfed Nazare becoming the youngest British person to have done so. If you’re any kind of fan of surfing you’ll understand the achievement. If you have five minutes to Google ‘Nazare’, you’ll be amazed by its story.

The Wakefield 10k. Another race done, another step taken in adjusting to life with a pacemaker. I didn’t run as fast as last year, but have been shaking off the effects of a winter bug for what feels like a couple of months. However, I was less than a minute slower than last year’s time, so I’ll take that as it was way faster than I expected. I don’t really care what people think about me banging on about my health or running; every time another race gets completed, I smile because it’s nice to still be alive.

The Dropped Wallet Experiment. I watched a short film the other day that really gave us all cause for optimism. A reporter in Belfast decided to conduct and experiment to judge the levels of kindness in the city. In each wallet he left his phone number on a note to ask people to call it if they found the wallet. Soon he was taking calls from concerned members of the public who’d found his wallet. When asked why they’d called the number the overwhelming response was that they wanted to be kind or that it was the right thing to do. So, the first thing we find out here is that there are definitely kind people around. In fact, all 10 wallets were returned, which is a definite reason to smile. This made me think of a recent time when I lost my credit card. I hadn’t lost it at all, just misplaced it in my wallet. However, when I asked staff at the shop I’d been in I found myself passed from department to department, all seemingly not too interested in helping. Having finally got a security guard to review his camera footage, I made one last check in my wallet and found the card behind another in a totally different part of said wallet. Suffice to say, the kindness that I witnessed on film from Belfast didn’t seem to exist in my corner of Leeds. I still managed a smile though…this time at my own stupidity!

A rogue ‘eagle’. This one comes via a local Facebook group, so given the extent of the madness found on these, we can reserve judgement on whether it’s true or not! However, having read many of the comments, there have been numerous sightings. Anyway, apparently an enormous eagle type bird has been spotted close to our local area. People assumed it was a red kite that we see locally on a regular basis, but apparently it’s not. It’s actually around where I work, but that isn’t too far from home. There are various reports of various sightings, ranging from just flying around to swooping down and eating local cats. Who knows the truth? Anyway, whatever the truth I’ve been keeping my eyes peeled, scanning the skies in the hope of seeing it. So far, just the usual sparrows, magpies and pigeons though!

Michael Sheen. Michael Sheen is without doubt an excellent actor and frankly, a bit of a national treasure. But a story I read this month has elevated his status even more. Sheen has been busy setting up a debt acquisition company in order to help people in Wales. He used £100,000 of his own money to buy debts of £1m and then just write them off, saying that it seemed like ‘a good thing to do’. Apparently the debts are often ‘bundled up’ and sold off for less than their worth, so Sheen realised that he’d be able to help out. What a fantastic thing to do! Not all heroes wear capes.

And so ends another edition in this optimistic series of blogs. A bumper one too, with 7 stories for the price of 5…which actually cost nothing anyway.

It’s brilliant to find out that there are so many good things going on and so many good people to be thankful for, when at times the world can feel like a cruel, harsh place where only the heartless seem to thrive. I hope you enjoyed reading!

One trophy, two buses and three hundred thousand smiling faces!

In the past, I’ve laughed at train spotters. Standing there, jotting down names and numbers while possibly freezing to death and breathing in numerous different types of fumes. Surely that couldn’t be any kind of fun, could it? Well, on Saturday, I kind of understood where they were coming from because on Saturday I stood and waited hours for a couple of buses to come past and thoroughly enjoyed every last second!

Saturday of course was the Carabao Cup trophy parade and what a day it was. As a resident of Leeds I was up and out relatively early, calling in on my parents before heading across the river and along Scotswood Road to meet friends in town.

I was aware it would be busy, but seeing queues of people standing at bus stops in Sunniside, Whickham and Swalwell was still a bit of a surprise. I felt lucky that I wasn’t using public transport. And then, I got to the outskirts of town where it took me ages to park and when I eventually did I was right down by the river on Monarch Road, opposite Dunston Staithes. Almost a 2 mile walk to Monument where I was meeting my friends! Suffice to say, I was late!

The walk through town, turning into a run at some points to lessen my lateness, felt brilliant though. A sea of black and white, everyone in a good mood and a proper buzz about the place. The positivity felt tangible and after a while I realised that I was just walking along smiling.

At Monument there was a big hug from my best mate, who greeted me with a great shout of “We did it, we did it!” We’ve waited a while for this moment, travelled up and down the country watching our club and although astonishingly there were no tears, it was a close run thing. However, fully expecting to bubble like a baby when the bus went past, I was keeping my powder dry!

The atmosphere continued to gather energy and volume as we made our way through town. We settled on a spot by the new university building on Percy Street, smiling and gawping at the crowds as we went. Despite the fact that the council seemed to have removed the roofs of bus shelters, people were ingenious in their vantage points. The multi storey car parks full of people were a site to behold and then opposite us a load of lads had clambered up onto the Fusilier’s War Memorial, while others had climbed up into the tower of St. Thomas’ Church! All to watch a couple of buses come past!

It was gone 5pm when they eventually did come past. But the wait – we’re good at waiting – was well worth it. We could see Dan Burn from a mile off; in fact I spotted him only seconds after I’d spotted the bus! A beaming colossus, all shaking fists and screaming out his approval of what he saw before him. I didn’t spot Ant and Dec mind. Can’t think why!

A few photos, some applause and a bit of shouting later and they were gone, off into the distance. That was that. We followed everyone else up to the Town Moor, but didn’t last much more than 15 minutes, being as we were about a mile away from the stage. It didn’t matter. We’d come to see the parade, to let out decades worth of raw emotion, to sing, to smile, to laugh and maybe even to cry a bit more! Job done.

This was a city that lives and breathes football and has clung to its team for decades, sometimes in celebration, a lot of the time in blind faith and hope and at others just because the team was the brightest thing we had. Now though, we’ve tasted a little bit of success and I’m sure there’s a healthy appetite for more in the not too distant future.

For now though, there’s the small matter of finishing as high up the league as we can this year before hopefully building on our success with a few decent signings over summer. I’ve always said that there’s never a dull moment supporting the Toon. These last few weeks have been a little bit special though, haven’t they?

NUFC: Reflections on a Wembley win.

So, finally we did it. After over 55 years of hurt – 70 if we’re talking about a domestic trophy – for the club and however many years it was for you personally, we won a trophy.

“We won a trophy…” words I never thought I’d say or type. Even after the takeover, I still found it hard to believe. This was Newcastle United after all; a club of the past almost, we just didn’t win things anymore. I’d spent my whole life hoping for something, but every time we seemed to get anywhere near close, fate intervened. And then Sunday happened.

I wasn’t lucky enough to get a ticket for Wembley. I guess being in Pot Z for the ballot will do that though. I was ok with that. I’d be a nervous wreck at Wembley, I’d be a nervous wreck at home. It genuinely didn’t matter.

There were stories everywhere you looked on Sunday. Be it the players, the management, Ant and Dec, Shearer and family or just the people of the long suffering support. Stories just leapt out, left, right and centre. And while I could bang on – again – about what it all meant to me, I thought I’d focus on some of the stories instead.

I have to start with Eddie, as important as Ant or Dec might be. Now the most successful manager in the club’s modern history, it’s fair to say that he achieved legend status on Sunday. It couldn’t have happened to a nicer, more deserving bloke either. A grafter who instantly ‘got’ the club and who has been taken to the hearts of supporters and the city itself. I’ve said before that he had restored pride to the city and the region, but on Sunday, as the leader of that squad of players, he made the world sit up and take notice. He broke the hoodoo, lifted the gloom and broke all of the curses that we might have wanted to imagine existed – traveller’s curses, Wembley curses, London curses, cup final curses…all of them banished by Eddie John Frank Howe.

Now Eddie is usually pretty cool and calm on the touchline, but he was visibly invested and visibly moved by the events at Wembley. Fists shaking for every goal, joking in the interviews afterwards and brandishing that trophy in front of his adoring public in as animated a way as I think we’ve seen him in his 3 years at the club. It was a joy to watch.

The Carabao Cup Final served as a exemplar for how the club has changed in Eddie’s time. The build up felt different this time. Personally, I was no longer relying on blind hope and although I never told a soul, I genuinely felt quietly confident. I believed that we could do it. Belief; that’s Eddie again, that.

Newcastle United has become a culture, a movement, a belief under Eddie. As supporters we’ve had it for years, albeit at times somewhat fractured, but under Eddie the club is well and truly united.

What struck me as being most illustrative of this unity was the team photos with the trophy. When the squad gathered for the traditional champagne spraying shenanigans, there were something like 23 members of staff aside from payers. When it was done later, elsewhere, even the club photographer was urged to join in. Unity, a culture of winning and belonging right there. Newcastle United is no longer about individual stars, nor is it to be known patronisingly for its ‘magnificent’ fans. And it could be seen all over the place at Wembley on Sunday.

Those photos have been a feature of Eddie’s time in charge from the very start and it’s always been the same – everyone is involved; team, squad, injured players, staff. This is everyone’s effort and the trophy on Sunday was down to every last one of them.

Another story for me was that of those not quite so involved. Firstly, there were youngsters Lewis Miley and Sean Neave. Both looked a little bewildered at the end of the game, but both played their part. As squad members they were shown trust at the highest level. Miley has already experienced a lot in his time in the squad but for Neave, this must have been an incredible boost. It was good to see that this trust was given, rather than just taking the option of naming two keepers on the bench and I’m sure this will pay off in terms of the development of these two players in years to come.

It was a similar story with Will Osula, someone who seems to have settled into the squad very well and was at the centre of the celebrations on Sunday. It’s worth remembering that he’s still a very young and inexperienced player and yet there he was after the first goal in the thick of things with Dan Burn and again at full time carrying and spinning Alexander Isak around the pitch. A definite sign of the unity within the squad. At the other end of the scale was Mark Gillespie, rarely involved in what we might call ‘active service’ but always part of the group and obviously a valued member of the culture that has been created. Even Sven Botman, fresh from surgery, hobbled his way onto the pitch at full time. Everywhere you looked, the pitch was filled by those who had been working hard to get us to this point.

The final story for me belonged with the fans. But it wasn’t just those that were lucky enough to be there. 70 years is a long time to wait and for some, time just ran out. There weren’t many who could say they were alive the last time we won a domestic trophy. Bruno picked up on this in his pitchside interview afterwards. “People have died” he said, referencing the fact that not everyone had got to cherish this moment. This was far more than just a trophy. It meant everything to everyone and I’ve no doubt that there were many of us letting those we’ve lost know what happened this week. So while there were many tears of joy, there was plenty sorrow too. But while many of us spent time looking back on Sunday, we must remember that Eddie and the lads have now given us reason to look ahead.

Like many of you, I was in floods of tears at the whistle. I was fighting them for the whole of the second half, physically shaking for the last 20 minutes. Slumped on our living room floor I was mobbed by my Leeds supporting wife and son, who knew exactly what this meant. Minutes later, my phone rang. My 85 year old dad. I picked up but could barely speak. I wanted to say thank you for taking me to St. James’ Park in the first place and handing this on to me, but couldn’t find the words. Three days later and I still don’t think I can speak to him without emotion!

Now, after decades of hurt, Newcastle United are the latest club to win a trophy in English football. The wait is over and didn’t we enjoy celebrating? Same again next year? I’m sure we’d all love that, but let’s not build our hopes up just yet, eh!

An open letter to Eddie and the lads.

Dear Eddie, Mad Dog and the lads,

Chances are you won’t read this. Some random Geordie pouring out his heart in what might well sound like a bit of a sob story. Why would you want to read that? However, on the off chance that you catch sight of it and find yourself with a spare 5 minutes, here’s my ten pence worth about the final.

I think I speak for the majority of Mags when I say that this cup final matters more than almost anything else. It’s not about glory or bragging rights or anything trivial like that. It’s about dreams. It’s about pride in what and who we are.

Like many others, I’ve supported Newcastle United for a long, long time. In my case it’s well over 40 years. Others have served the cause even longer. It’s like an addiction, Eddie; a birth right and for a lot of us it’s been a cruel curse to be handed down to us by dads, grandads, elder siblings and the like. Like it is with any team. Many a time I’ve joked that I wish my mam and dad had lived in Barcelona or Madrid, giving me a legitimate chance at glory, not glory hunting. But it’s only ever been a joke. I wouldn’t change my allegiance to that badge and that black and white shirt for anything.

Some of my earliest memories are tragically Toon related. I still have a vivid memory of waving my dad off to Wembley in 1976 and then waiting at the window for him to come back home the next day. He’d gone full of hope if not any sense of fashion, dressed in black and white tartan flares and wearing a black and white Tam o’ shanter, no doubt drunk before he got into the passenger seat. That might explain his outfit as well! He returned deflated, a shell of the man who’d walked up the drive the previous day. I now know that it was probably more to do with a raging hangover, than the defeat, but at the time I just thought he was heartbroken. At least he’d seen us win in ’51, ’52, ’55 and ’69. He’d tasted the ultimate victory, sampled silverware.

My dad took me to games from an early age. I was born with a heart complaint and during one of several hospital stays I was sent a letter from the club, telling me how brave I was and rewarding my bravery with free season tickets whenever I was well enough to take advantage of them. I was already in love with the club. Now, I was obsessed. There was not going to be a chance that I’d ever be anything other than black and white from that point. I’d be miserable about it all for a lot of the time, but I’d be black and white. And that’s the point for loads of us. We didn’t get a choice, we didn’t need to be winning all of the time and we’d be loyal without a great deal of reward, but we’d stick with it and we’d never give up hope.

In my early years as a Newcastle fan, I thought it was only a matter of time before we won something. By the time I was a young adult I was already desperate to see us win anything at all and the nagging fear of ‘not in my lifetime’ was already eating away at me. King Kev gave me hope and glory, but in the end we couldn’t even win the Anglo Italian cup. It was Keegan who said that the fans had followed Newcastle through “thin and thin” and he was spot on!

Some years earlier, in 1989 I’d been glued to the radio as Newcastle played in the Football League Centenary Trophy, a tournament played over a weekend at Wembley. Our first game was against First Division champions Liverpool, so I held out little hope. Lo and behold though, we somehow won the game on penalties. This was it…silverware beckoned, I was going to be rewarded for my loyalty. I was finally going to be able to say that my team had won something, even if I didn’t really know what it was. And then we lost the next game against Tranmere of the Fourth Division! Typical Newcastle United!

I learnt to not get my hopes up pretty fast. Supporting Newcastle didn’t need to be about trophies, after all. Good job, really. It became about loyalty, community and a sense of belonging. Newcastle United was a huge part of my identity and year in year out I would give it the majority of my attention. Year in, year out, it let me down. Many managers and board members didn’t seem to care about us and it never really felt like a lot of the players understood what it was to wear the shirt. But I clung to the ones that did; Beardsley, Keegan, McDermott, Quinn, Kelly…the players of my youth. Your lads all seem to get it, Eddie.

We’ve seen Wembley appearances before, of course. Glorious failures in the 90s and the semi final in 2000. And then a couple of years ago against Manchester United. But at some point it can’t just be a day out anymore. In my time I’ve seen West Ham, Wigan, Leicester, Portsmouth, Coventry and even bloody sunderland win at Wembley, albeit it in the pizza cup. But if them, then why not us?

We follow Newcastle because it makes us feel like we belong and it’s a massive part of who we are. It’s rare I’ve felt as welcome as I do stood behind a goal surrounded by fellow Geordies singing my heart out. We support Newcastle because it’s our city, insular and fighting to make itself heard, yet welcoming to almost all. The best city on the planet. We support this team for hopes, dreams, friendship and pride. We support them because it makes us feel good; even when we get beat there’s a certain level of feel good factor. There’s enjoyment to be had, mates to see, strangers to bond with over a common cause.

Just for once, it’d be nice to feel rewarded in the more traditional sense though – being able to watch our players parade a trophy around the pitch. We don’t demand a team that wins, but just this once it feels like it might be the only thing that really matters.

Eddie, you’ve given us back a huge amount of pride. Given us a competitive team that just gets it, like we do and who are loved by the city as a result. Your team has rewarded those who travel thousands of miles to watch their team year in, year out. It’s added even more pride to wearing those famous stripes. It would be beyond words to see us win on Sunday. But I’ll still probably write about it, if you fancy a read!

On Sunday, the opposition doesn’t matter – we demand a team that tries, so get into these! Leave nothing on the pitch, lose your voice on the touchline and get back to Newcastle with no regrets.

Good luck, Eddie. Good luck, lads.