Sport – Middle Age Fanclub

Book Review: Forever Young by Oliver Kay.

As a football fan, one of the things I love about following the game so closely is when you unearth a player that you’d never previously heard of. I’ve followed football since being very young, I read a lot about the game, have played it for years and even coached for a while. So, I like to think I’ve got a bit of knowledge. And then, every so often something or someone enters my consciousness and there’s a mixture of thrills and sadness about finding them. Adrian Doherty was one such player.

Oliver Kay’s book is brilliantly encyclopaedic in its examination of Adrian Doherty. And it’s all the more remarkable because Doherty only ever made three senior appearances as a professional footballer. However, Kay’s book makes it abundantly clear that the game lost out when we lost the opportunity to watch Doherty on a regular basis.

Doherty is referred to in the book as a lost genius; a teenage prodigy blessed with a gift for the game and sadly, a career ruined by serious injury. Here, Kay follows his journey from the streets of Strabane in Northern Ireland and starring for Moorfield Boys’ Club to the bright lights and big time of Manchester United and Old Trafford under Sir Alex Ferguson.

And this is where Adrian Doherty’s story begins to move away from the traditional biography of a footballer. Doherty’s story is at first the stuff of every boys’ dreams, but one that ultimately turns into something else entirely. Always a little different as a kid, Doherty continued to follow very much his own path into his youth. While he excelled on the football pitch, Doherty never allowed the sport to consume him and always had outside interests that would clash jarringly with what was maybe expected of him as a potential professional footballer.

As part of Manchester United’s famous Class of ’92, Doherty played with some of the game’s legendary figures such as Beckham, Giggs and Scholes and it was said that he was better than the lot of them! And yet, even that and the promise of a glittering career just didn’t seem to enough for him.

Doherty was very much a free spirit and football was never the be all and end all for him. And as he grew older, those differences left him more and more isolated in life. This wasn’t a state that bothered him though. Doherty seemed to be living happily with only his poetry and music for company, making his own way in life while somehow forging ahead with a burgeoning football career. And then tragically, injury intervened.

Kay’s book is a remarkable tale that is both tragic and heart warming at the same time. I read it feeling a certain sense of regret that this was a player that I never got to see, regardless of the team that he would have played for. But Kay is careful to convey the fact that Doherty derived a great deal of pleasure and fulfilment out of life and his chosen path. Even when injury ended a promising career, that’s all it was to Doherty; a career and not the only thing that he had in life. The free spirit was able to blossom, roam and pursue things like poetry, writing and music.

‘Forever Young’ is a must read for football fans. But don’t expect the traditional footballers’ tale. This is not a story that ends with riches, glory and the raising of any trophies. This is a story that gives us a completely different take on footballers and as a result is a really interesting read. Having Doherty as a team mate is described as being “like having Bob Dylan in a No 7 shirt”…and if that doesn’t add up to a book that intrigues you then I don’t know what will, especially if you’re a sports fan.

I give ‘Forever Young’…

Gallowgate Cult Heroes; Number 16 – Peter Jackson.

As a football fan you sometimes spot players and wonder what it would be like if your team signed them. A bit of imaginary scouting, I suppose. I’ve done it loads over the years and then winced as said players have more often than not signed for other clubs. Peter Jackson was probably the first that I noticed who actually went on to sign for Newcastle.

I was 14 years old when he signed in October of 1986. Costing £250,000 from Bradford, Jacko was a no nonsense centre half that I’d probably seen on the telly and admired, wondering if there was any way we might go out and sign him because he looked, to my young eyes, a great fit for Newcastle and the kind of players that would be appreciated by our fans. Jackson was Bradford’s youngest ever captain and skippered them to the third division title in 1985, the same year as the Bradford Fire disaster.

He could play a little bit and was obviously a bit of a leader, but the best thing about him was the fact that he just got stuck in. He would fly into tackles and blocks and launch himself at headers; one of a dying breed who would stick their head in where plenty others would just shy away and say no thanks.

As someone who has always coveted wingers and strikers it was rare that I loved watching a defender as a kid. But Jacko changed that. When he wasn’t snarling at opposition centre forwards, he did actually play with a smile on his face and from day one it was abundantly evident that Peter felt privileged to play for Newcastle United.

Jacko played in some decent Toon sides that included the likes of Beardsley, Gazza, Roeder, Goddard and Mirandinha; sides that should have achieved more than they did. Mind you, he also played alongside Tony Cunningham, Frank Pingel and Ray Ranson, so maybe he never really stood a chance!

Making 72 appearances and scoring 3 goals, my abiding memory of Jackson was watching him emerge from the midst of a brawl against Portsmouth at home with two of their players – one might have been the loathsome mackem Kevin Dillon – in headlocks. Heroic stuff to a kid in their teens. If my memory serves me rightly he was inevitably sent off at a time when we were struggling in the league, but still, chinning two opposition players? Legend.

Leaving the Toon to return to Bradford in 1988, Jackson would go on to play for Huddersfield and Halifax, while later managing both Bradford and Huddersfield with relative success. He’s still spoken about in glowing terms by Bantams fans that I know and remains one of my favourite players from my formative years as a Newcastle fan to this day.

Magpie Moments – Episode 1.

Football fans will tell you there’s almost nothing like the moment the ball hits the back of the net. Players too, obviously. It’s visceral, animalistic almost; the roar, the way we throw ourselves around, hugging strangers, screaming at the sky!

But football’s moments can never really be restricted to just goals. Over the course of a season there will be hundreds of things you remember for years to come. Over the course of your life supporting a team, there will be untold thousands. So, I thought I’d write about our my own Newcastle United moments. Each month I’ll string a few together in I guess what we could call a trip down memory lane. Some are from games I’ve attended, some from stuff I’ve watched on the telly, while others have been passed down to me by others. There’s no order of importance, just Magpie Moments.

Mitrovic’s late equaliser v Sunderland (2016). I remember this one quite vividly. We’d lost the previous six games against Sunderland and it looked like we’d make that seven. Rafa Benitez had not long taken over from Steve McLaren and the team were still without a win under the new manager. This felt like a turning point though. With less than ten minutes left, Georginho Wijnaldum clipped over a beautiful hanging cross that Aleksander Mitrovic gladly headed home at the back post. St. James’ Park erupted, a few thousand mackems deflated rapidly and Mitro took off his shirt to reveal a surprisingly doughy physique! Spinning said shirt around his head, he seemed to just run around in circles for a bit before a supporter joined him from the East Stand. As Mitro ran towards him the bloke slipped and almost two footed the Serbian into next week until he took evasive action and dived over the supporter! Both ended up on the floor before jumping up and hugging like long lost brothers. The pitch invading fan was then carted off by stewards with a look on his face that said, ‘What have I done wrong?’ Only at Newcastle United!

Keegan vs Ashley. It was never a great fit and never going to last, but when Mike Ashley brought Kevin Keegan back to the club the romantic in us all probably took over. We were once again royally in the brown stuff, but King Kev would work his magic and before too long he’d have Shola playing like Messi and the Toon climbing the table. And then, in a tale of lies and deceit and one that takes in names such as Milner, Schweinsteiger, Llambias, Wise and Xisco, it was all over. Keegan resigned less than a year after being appointed and Chris Hughton was left in caretaker charge for the next home game against Hull. The atmosphere that day was poisonous; possibly the most toxic I can recall as a Newcastle fan. Walking up to the ground the tension was tangible and the closer I got to St. James’ the more I thought there might not even be a match. It felt like something close to a riot or a revolution was in the air and the match itself felt irrelevant, played as it was in front of a crowd baying for blood. Leaving the ground that day, I felt as low as I’d felt as a Toon supporter. And believe me, that was a tough competition. It wouldn’t matter. Ashley and his cronies would remain for quite some time, mismanaging the club horrifically. Keegan would never return, although there’s hope for next season. This wasn’t quite the straw that broke the camel’s back, but it was a moment that told us that drastic action would be needed to rid our club of this particular owner and although it took some time, we got there eventually.

Dyer v Bowyer. Saturday, April 2nd 2005 and unbeknownst to everyone in the ground, including our two protagonists, Newcastle United are about to reach a new low. And if you’ve followed the club from the depths of the 70s and 80s, I know that’s a big claim! In fact, if you know of this game and Steven Taylor’s ‘Platoon’ style handball, you might not even see Dyer and Bowyer as providing its lowest moment! This was a shocker of a performance as a team including the three aforementioned players plus the likes of Jenas, Robert and Shearer, found themselves 0-3 down and already reduced to ten men with only minutes left to play. Then, just as Newcastle continued labouring on, still huffing puffing and trying to find a route to goal, another pass goes astray and suddenly all Hell breaks loose. For a moment the Premier League turns into Sunday league as Bowyer approached his team mate Dyer and they started throwing punches. I mean, I say punches… In truth, barely a connection was made and the whole thing ended with lots of shirt grabbing before Gareth Barry and Stephen Carr managed to intervene and dragged the scrapping pair away. Inevitably, both Dyer and Bowyer were sent off and we finished the game with 8 players! Apparently Bowyer had become more and more wound up, believing that Dyer wasn’t passing to him, words were exchanged and then…FIIIIIIIGHT! Personally, I missed the whole thing up in Level 7 as my eyes just naturally followed the ball! In fact, around me, no one seemed to know until word filtered around the Leazes. Once again though, the kind of moment you rarely hear about but fully expect at Newcastle United!

What’s your favourite Magpie Moment? Any spring to mind? I’m happy to take requests!

NUFC: A Tribute to Callum Wilson.

And so, it came to pass; Callum Wilson actually did leave Newcastle United. Despite at least the one initially convincing hoax announcement on social media about him extending his deal for another year, the fact is he’s off to pastures new.

I genuinely didn’t think that it would happen yet. When it was announced that there were discussions about another year it felt like the most Newcastle United thing would be that we’d see him back for season ’25-’26.

It would be churlish to call Wilson’s time in Toon anything but a success. Sure, there have been injuries – we’ve lost count – but there have also been goals galore. 49 of them that make him the club’s third highest Premier League goalscorer as well as putting in the top 40 of all time scorers.

Joining from Bournemouth in September 2020 for a fee thought to be around £20m Wilson immediately hit the ground running with a goal on debut away at West Ham. He would go on to score 12 in that first season; not a bad return in a side that would struggle to find any kind of form and consistency throughout the season and would eventually finish in 15th. Wilson himself was consistent though and invariable when a chance came his way, he took it. Things would stay this way for the whole of his time at the club.

Rather than drone on through his record across 5 years though, I thought about the things that made me smile about Wilson. Here’s what I came up with.

The goals. Callum Wilson scores goals. End of. And he scored all kinds of goals for us as well. Not just a poacher in and around the six yard box, Callum. Remember the chip from outside the box away at Spurs after their keeper had fumbled the ball? What about the curler from the edge of the box away at Everton in 2023? Or you could just cast your mind back to the countless times where he stayed ice cool when put clean through on goal or just when taking a penalty. That said, one of my favourite Wilson goals had to be his opener in the 5-1 away win at West Ham in 2023 when he was able to find room enough to get a free header from a Saint Maximin cross while being surrounded by 4 or 5 defenders.
The alertness in and around the box. Few strikers have had this instinct in all the time I’ve watched the Toon. Wilson just sniffed goals and chances out. While he was a pacey striker, it was his pace over those first few yards, particularly in the box that set him apart from many others. For me, Wilson was the best at this type of thing since Micky Quinn.
The trademark grin. Wilson’s smile said a lot about the man. Confidence, swagger and calm. Callum Wilson just loved scoring goals and loved playing for the Toon. The grin told us that he was self assured and had the kind of self belief required to wear the number 9 shirt when he eventually got it.
The salute. He loved celebrating in front of the fans and that salute often topped it all off. Wilson loved the adulation and our fans served it up in spades! Callum Wilson just loved scoring goals for Newcastle United.
That post takeover goal. The first game at St. James’ Park after the takeover was confirmed. A renewed optimism around the place after years of utter drudgery under Mike Ashley and his cronies. Early on in the game, the ball was worked across the edge of the box before finding Allain Saint Maximin who in turn slipped in the overlapping Javi Manquillo. Manquillo fired over a hard, low cross and there was Callum Wilson getting across the defender and stooping to bullet a header beyond Hugo Lloris. The whole place erupted. There were even the proverbial limbs in the director’s box as messrs Rueben, Al-Rumayyan, Ghoudousi and Staveley leap about in celebration. Okay, we lost the game, but in that moment we all believed that this was the start of something and it was fitting that it would be Wilson flying in to grab the goal. It’s definitely one that I’ll never forget.

Callum Wilson will go down as a hugely important figure in the last 5 years at the club. I’d go as far as to call him a legend. One of the reasons why we were still in the division both pre and post Eddie Howe. Thanks for the memories, Callum.

Power Up signs, smiling more and a bloody cricketer! The Leeds 10k.

Having been forced to miss last year’s Leeds 10k due it falling on the same day as my daughter’s 18th birthday, I was looking forward to this one. It’s an event that I came late to, having only done my first one about 4 years ago, but I always really enjoy the race.

All in all, it was a good day for me. Illness meant that I’d managed less than a month’s training – 7 runs – and only a couple of 10k runs in that time. That said, having pulled out of my last 2 races in April and May, it was nice to feel well enough to even get round one for a change!

I’d been to a gig the night before and so my legs were pretty sore from all that standing and dancing, which resulted in some lovely shin pain all the way around the 10k. Nothing else for it but to grit my teeth and get through it though!

I’d hoped to run it in under 55 minutes, as that was my quickest run in training. Alas, it wasn’t to be! A slow last mile, where I just didn’t quite have the legs to get me up the last couple of hills quickly enough, brought me in slower than I would have liked, but I have to admit to being pretty pleased with my time of 55 and a half minutes.

It’s a brilliant race to do. There’s always lots of support out to cheer you on your way, which actually does help. The route is fairly undulating; some nice flat parts, some lovely downhill stretches, but some nasty hills – particularly coming back into Leeds in the final mile – so it’s a fairly challenging course.

This year, rather than writing some kind of report, talking you through almost every step I take I’ve decided to take a different approach. Sat at home afterwards I had a moment to reflect on some of my favourite bits and some of the things that occurred to me as I plodded my way round the course.

Choirs. There were at least 3 choirs out on the course and all of them gave me, and I daresay thousands of others, a timely boost. The best of them though was outside a parade of shops in Headingley. All wearing black and yellow, all ladies and just sensationally good. I actually ran past applauding. I mean imagine being kind enough to think, let’s get together and sing some songs to those knackered looking people who’ll be going past on Sunday. I just think it’s a lovely thing to do.
A one man band. Near Hyde Park, I think. Just as we were crossing a road to head to a much needed downhill stretch I heard music. Drums, a keyboard, maybe some guitars. And then when I looked it was one bloke playing drums to a background of what I assume was a programmed synthesiser. Just rocking away without a care in the world!
Volunteers. Loads of them. Whether they were at drinks stations or just marshalling along the route, the volunteers are the heart of any event. Sometimes, when you’re feeling pretty shattered and some kind soul in a high viz bib tells you, ‘You’re doing great’ or ‘You’re amazing’ it really helps. Invariably, I’m not but it’s such a lovely thing to hear!
Fancy dress. I’ve never understood the need to run in fancy dress. Don’t get me wrong, I really admire those who do it, but have always felt that it’s enough just dragging myself around without a costume! This year I spotted runners dressed in all manner of costumes; a flamingo, a sloth, a lion complete with mane (this was in about the last half mile and I lengthened my stride, determined not to be beaten by bloody Simba!), a sunflower and a zebra. My son – a little too happily for my liking – also informed me that I was beaten by a man wearing full cricket whites complete with jumper, a bat and all of the padding; a really heavy outfit to run a 10k in on a hot day! It takes a special kind of person to commit to something to that extent!
High 5s. I’m not normally one for a high 5. Not very touchy feely, me. However, whenever I do a race there a families with children who will hold out their hands to get a high 5 from the runners. Again, it’s just another lovely thing about this type of event and I try to go out of my way to indulge at least a few of them. Kids always get a bit of a kick out of it and it’s just really rewarding to hear them laugh or see them smile as you run over. That said, given my sweaty red face, it must be terrifying for them as I approach!
Power Up Signs. The effort that had gone into some of these cardboard masterpieces this year was amazing. If you’re not in the know people sometimes hold signs saying ‘Power Up Here’ or something similar while watching these races. The idea is – like a video game – you touch the sign and receive a ‘power up’. This year people had drawn Sonic on them, characters from Mario and all manner of other stuff. And they looked great. Sadly though, they don’t actually work!
And finally…smiling! The amount of smiling faces who turn out to give some encouraging is always a real positive and I really appreciate. In fact, there’s nothing better than spotting my family somewhere near the finish, smiling and screaming at me. This year though, I decided that it might help my running if I smiled more. Let’s just say I don’t ‘wear’ running well. I look knackered and my face and body must seem to scream ‘HELP!’ to the casual observer. So, for this run I tried to relax, smile and even have a bit of a laugh and I think it kind of worked. Mind you, it didn’t work on the final long hill when a fellow runner dressed head to toe in various dayglo colours took it upon himself to turn Mr. Motivator and shout encouraging stuff like ‘Come on, guys we’ve got this’ and ‘We’re all in this together!’ as well as singing lines from whatever song popped into his vacant head. Smile? It was all I could do not to tell him to shut the f… up!

Anyway, I’m off to find my next running adventure as the next one booked in isn’t until October! I’ll be back for Leeds next year though!

NUFC; The ones that got away – Matz Sels.

Over the years I’ve had a surprisingly happy knack at backing the wrong horses, both literally and metaphorically. Whether I’m studying form or sticking pins into a list of names, it’s a rarity for me to back a winner. And it’s a similar story with footballers, particularly those that play for Newcastle. Back in the early 90s I may have been the only person in the stadium convinced week in week out that Kevin Dillon was going to score. Similarly, I was sure that lightening quick Wayne Fereday would be a success and thought that Daniel Cordone was going to be the best Argentinian thing since Maradona.

Some years later, Rafa Benitez signed Matz Sels and again, with literally zero insight whatsoever, I jumped on this particular band waggon. Sels was going to be a brick wall. Hardly Director of Football material, eh?

Sels was signed from Gent in 2016 on the back of a ‘Best Goalkeeper in Belgium’ award in 2015. Costing £6.5m and given a 5 year contract, it looked like we really meant business. Surely Sels was going to be our goalkeeper for as long as he chose. Rafa had clearly unearthed a gem. At 6 foot 2 he was imposing and at 24 a good age. He couldn’t fail!

Turns out he could though. Despite a reasonable start that included a run of four clean sheets in a row, Sels quickly lost confidence following an error that let Aston Villa grab a late equaliser. He stuttered while coming for a cross that was never really his to take and was subsequently beaten at his near post while frantically back pedalling. Four days later and Karl Darlow was given the shirt.

Sels made only 14 appearances in his season at Newcastle. He was loaned out to Anderlecht in 2017 and to all intents and purposes barely heard of again by Toon fans. By July of the next year he was being sold to Strasbourg for £3.5m and enjoyed several decent seasons in France. And if that was the end of the story you’d no doubt all happily flood the comments with variants of us dodging a bullet and that he was terrible. But, it didn’t end there for Sels and his comeback got me thinking about whether he really was one that got away.

When he left Strasbourg after 6 seasons there was much unrest from supporters with many seeing it as another example of terrible management by their new owners BlueCo, the investment group that also own Chelsea. Sels had built a reputation as a solid, reliable presence in the team and his departure on the last day of the January transfer window was deemed a betrayal by the Strasbourg and also the kind of decision that we’d become accustomed to under Mike Ashley. It seems that Sels couldn’t escape mismanagement. He’d been team captain and Strasbourg president Marc Keller referred to his a “true soldier” and “an exemplary goalkeeper”.

Sels moved to Nottingham Forest in February 2024 and since then has steadily rebuilt his reputation in England. He looked like a man at the top of his game last season when he kept 13 clean sheets and shared the Golden Gloves award with David Raya of Arsenal. And it wasn’t just that. What impressed me personally about Sels was the range of saves. While some were what you might call ‘saves for the cameras’ others were instinctive and brave. Sels was a major reason why Forest were still challenging for a Champions League spot on the final day.

It seems ironic that while we grumbled about Nick Pope and Martin Dubravka for a lot of last season one of our former flops was proving himself to be Mr. Reliable. I’m not for one second suggesting that we should be looking to sign him, but I couldn’t help but notice how well he was doing last season and it did lead to me re-assessing Sels as a goalkeeper.

So was he one that got away? In my opinion, he could well have been. I suppose selling him was the best thing at the time, but with the benefit of hindsight, might he have been worth keeping, if you’ll pardon the pun? Maybe Rafa Benitez needed to be a little more patient. Obviously, it’s said that goalkeepers get better with age, so that could be part of the story here, but I do believe that Matz Sels always had the right ingredients.

What do you think? One that got away or another Mike Ashley dud?

Middle Aged Moans and Creaking Bones.

It’s been a bit of a difficult start to the year in terms of health and fitness. It started with me catching some kind of bug just after New Year, which pretty much knocked me for six. It felt flu-like (I promise it wasn’t just the mythical ‘man flu’) and really didn’t help in preparing for the term ahead at work, as well as the new year in general. And it’s been largely downhill ever since…

A few Sundays ago, I was meant to be running the Pontefract 10k, easily one of my favourite races of the year. Training hadn’t been going well though and the most I’d ran in over a month had been 4.5 miles, which was a long way short of what I needed to complete for a 10k (6.2 miles). Still, despite the lack of miles in the legs I’d resolved to run and just give it everything I had in order to get over that finish line in a half decent time. And then the Saturday before happened.

On the Saturday before the race, I woke up feeling fine. I’d had a decent sleep and was up and showered early and ready to go. The usual Saturday plan is to head to a local country park in order to volunteer for ParkRun or just get some washing in and then head to the supermarket to do the weekly shop. With my son busy revising, it meant that we wouldn’t be volunteering, so once the washing was in I headed to the supermarket where, up to a point, everything was going swimmingly.

Suddenly though, as I headed to the checkout, I felt violently sick and my stomach was turning more than my washing machine. I dumped my trolley and ran to the toilets, just in case – can you imagine the eternal shame of throwing up in your local supermarket? Nothing happened though and so when I felt a little better I rescued my shopping and went and paid for it.

It happened again though, almost the minute that I walked in through my front door. To cut a long, repetitive story short, I ended up in bed, sleeping like a baby for the next couple of hours. On waking up, I realised pretty quickly that I wouldn’t be making the trip to Pontefract the next day.

This was the second race in two months that I’ve had to pull out of. The first one, in April, was just because I felt extremely tired. I didn’t even really want to race, having done the same one last year and hated every second of it! It was only bloody mindedness that made me enter again!

And so, that Pontefract Sunday was spent trying to pick myself up from feeling low and working out how to put things right. I had four weeks until my next race – the Leeds 10k, which is always fantastic. I decided just to take a slightly different approach and resolved to think less about times and distances and just make sure that I get out and run. No excuses, no pondering and deliberating and talking myself out of things…just get out with a minimum distance in mind and run. Hopefully fitness would come and as the race approached I would be able to start preparing properly and getting some longer distances in.

As I write on 2nd June, it’s been going well. I dragged myself out and did a post work 5k on the Monday evening after having missed out on Pontefract and I’ve been keeping going since then with 4 runs in total as well as several long walks and some yoga. My latest run was a Friday morning 10k which was nowhere near as tough as I’d expected and although I was slightly irritated with my time (just over 56 minutes) I’ve told myself that it doesn’t matter and that if I can run under 55 minutes for the Leeds 10k, then that will represent a bit of a triumph.

Hopefully, by the middle of June I’m approaching some sort of fitness. In an ideal world I won’t be struck down by another bout of mystery illness and so be able to just slowly build my strength back up. It’s been good just to give myself a kick up the backside and adopt a ‘no excuses’ attitude.

Roll on Sunday 15th June and the Leeds 10k! Fingers tightly crossed until the actual day though!

Book Review: ‘The Rise of The Ultra Runners’ by Adharanand Finn

For a while now, ultra running has both appalled and fascinated me. We’re talking ridiculous distances and conditions – running 100 mile races is fairly typical and often involving mountains and other such treacherous terrain. The idea of putting myself through such torture, despite my love of running, appalled me, but the idea that people chose to test themselves to the limits in such events absolutely fascinated me.

‘The Rise of The Ultra Runners’ had been on my ‘to read’ list for a while. It had sat there in one of my book boxes idle, occasionally popping its head up and briefly grabbing my attention before losing out to something shinier. And then one day, I decided that the time was right. It turned out that I really should have picked it up earlier!

The book plots the rise in popularity of ultra running; basically the pursuit of running ridiculous distances over many hours, sometimes days and often in ridiculous conditions. It would seem that there are now plenty of perfectly sane humans getting bored of the shorter distances, you know, like a marathon! For the uninitiated this means that ultra runners are taking on anything from 50k to 160k. In fact, the longest ultra is actually 3100 miles!

As with the last book of his that I read, ‘Running with the Kenyans’, Finn immerses himself in the world of endurance running. In order to write the book, he doesn’t just search out ultra runners, he becomes one and it’s an interesting read. Finn not only runs the races, at one point he even moves in with one of the world’s best ultra runners living in a cabin on a mountain, training with him and generally just trying to absorb everything he can about this world that he’s joined in with.

The adventures of ‘The Rise of the Ultra Runners’ take us all over the world in the pursuit of the ultimate test. Finn talks us through each agonising step in a world where things can change from one minute to the next. It seems that as an ultra runner you never quite know when disaster might strike.

However, these athletes, Finn included, are ridiculously dedicated to their craft. So whether, it’s an injury, the terrain, the weather or just the fact that the climb just doesn’t seem to want to end, these people just don’t seem to ever want to give up. Given that the distances can stretch into the hundreds and sometimes thousands of miles, this is an illuminating read, to say the least. And there was me congratulating myself on keeping going for the final mile of a particularly tough uphill 5k the other night!

‘The Rise of the Ultra Runners’ is a fantastic read whether you’re a runner or not. If you run, it’s about our world, but multiplied by 100 in most cases. If, like me, you often struggle to drag yourself around a 10k then you’ll be amazed at the physical and mental feats described here. The fact that not only can humans push themselves to their physical and mental limits over what feel like obscene distances, but also while they’re literally climbing mountains or battling with ridiculous extremes of temperature will never not fascinate me. But it’s not just that that’s so interesting. With this book, the devil is really in the detail in terms of exactly what we’re capable of.

The further I got through the book, the more fascinated I got. And the more fascinated I got, the more I thought about trying an ultra marathon myself. The reality is that I most likely won’t ever have the time, but it’s an idea that I still can’t shake and I’d love for there to be a time where I was able to train for one and make it happen.

And for me, that’s the genius of the book. It tackles something that will seem utterly ridiculous for the majority of us and yet, we’re still compelled by what we read. This reader, despite the onset of middle age, a pacemaker, asthma and a terrible habit of eating crisps and chocolate and drinking red wine read it and genuinely thought he’d be able to run a 50k race. And let’s not get started on my genuine fascination with a 100 miler in South Africa!

I give ‘The Rise of The Ultra Runners’

NUFC – The ones that got away: Ayoze Perez

The rumoured signing of wonderkid Antonio Cordero, as well as being quite exciting, got me thinking about another player signed in similar circumstances. With Cordero attracting lots of attention in the Spanish Segunda B and rumoured interest from the likes of Real Madrid and Barcelona, I realised I’d heard this kind of thing before.

For Cordero, read Ayoze Perez. Signed in 2014 for around £1.7m from Segunda B club CD Tenerife, Perez himself was rumoured to have attracted interest from some of Spain’s biggest clubs. And yet, despite the club being run into the ground by Mike Ashley, we still had enough appeal to gain his signature. Of course, seeing the scouting reports on Perez alongside the rumoured interest of some of La Liga’s big guns would undoubtedly have the pound signs flashing in big Mike’s greedy eyes! I mean, imagine the profit from that initial £1.7m layout if he was anything like as good as he seemed!

As it turned out, Ashley would see a cracking return on his investment when Perez eventually tired of the club’s lack of ambition and signed for Leicester City in a deal worth £30m.

However, before that Perez would prove to be a valuable asset on the pitch too. Playing largely as either a second striker, attacking midfielder or a left winger Perez always gave his all for Newcastle. And yet, he became quite a divisive figure, often finding himself the scapegoat for losses or poor performances. Personally, I was always pro Perez. I found him to be a cracking little footballer; skillful with an eye for goal and a decent turn of pace and brave when he needed to be.

Ayoze stayed in Toon for 5 seasons, making 195 appearances and scoring a total of 48 goals. But was his time just that of another footballer who came for a spell and then left when he got fed up, having not really produced the goods? Or was Ayoze one that got away?

For me, Perez falls into the latter category and I feel that he could have been an absolute superstar for us. But, he found himself at a club whose only ambition seemed to be to finish 17th or above in the Premier League and in the end it was no surprise that he left. Here was a player that would go on to win an FA Cup winners’ medal, play successfully in La Liga and eventually represent Spain at Euro 2024, picking up a winners medal in the process. In many ways, he fulfilled his ambitions only when he left the club.

Perez had many great moments and performances over the five seasons he spent on Tyneside. And while he wasn’t the most prolific goalscorer – that wasn’t his job by the way – he had a happy knack of producing goals when it mattered. For quite a small player he was also pretty good with his head, scoring a good few flicked near post headers in his time due to his ability to time runs across defenders.

Watching a few highlight reels what struck me most about Perez was his ability to find space and also his vision and the way he’d be able to thread a pass through a small gap when nothing looked on. For me, his best football was played under Rafa and it was then that his passing ability was illustrated perfectly in his link up play with the likes of Salomon Rondon and Kenedy.

For me, Ayoze Perez was definitely one that got away. Yes, he was with us for a relatively long period of time, but I still believe he left us in his prime. To say that he went on to play for the best international side in Europe should tell us enough. He had all the attributes to be a real game changer in the right team, but unfortunately, apart from the Championship winning side of ’16/’17 he was never part of a consistently competitive Newcastle side.

During his final couple of years at the Toon, Perez seemed to become a bit of a scapegoat for some fans. For me, this was unfair to say the least. Perez was a clever player with a positive attitude who always put in a shift for the team. He was both durable and versatile, rarely succumbing to injury and often playing wherever he was asked for the sake of the team. In my opinion, definitely one that got away.

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!