Sport – Page 5 – Middle Age Fanclub

Another step in the right direction: The Pontefract 10k 2024

Sometimes life’s just not fair. When I first looked at the projected weather forecast, 5 days prior to this race, it told me that it would be relatively cool and that there might even be a chance of light rain. So, in many ways ideal conditions for running. But as the day got closer the forecast changed and Sunday brought temperatures in the 20s and no cloud cover. Just what I would have wanted to avoid!

A year ago, the Pontefract 10k was my first race after having surgery to have a pacemaker fitted. Obviously, it brought its own challenges and in the end I was happy to finish in just under an hour. This year, with a lot more runs under my belt – albeit often taking two steps forward to then take two or three back – I was hopeful of a much better time. And then the hot weather decided to put in an appearance.

Last year’s race was meant to be the final one ever, but then late last year someone told me that Pontefract was on again and following a quick online search I found myself entering once more. I’ve ran this race for the last four years now and absolutely love it. There’s always a friendly, welcoming atmosphere, it’s well organised and despite the undulations of the course (so many hills!), it’s just a really enjoyable run.

I do feel a little bit guilty about doing runs like this. In the grand scheme of things it’s not that long ago that I was collapsing in front of my family and scaring the life out of them, so insisting on running these races might be a bit much. However, they in turn insist on coming with me and I know they’ll spend the time between seeing me start and seeing me finish worrying, but at least they can hopefully see that I’m getting stronger and stronger. However we all feel, I’m very grateful for their love and support and it’s always a boost when I see them near the end. Or hear them before I see them as is often the case!

We arrived early this year as we had to pick up my race number, but despite my fears of an enormous queue, it only took a minute or so to sort out. So we found a sunny spot and stood chatting in the sun for a while, with me doing the occasional bit of half-hearted stretching. All the while, at the back of my mind was the thought of exactly how hot it was going to be out on the run, meaning that my usual pre-race nerves were ramped right up.

Before I knew it though, we were shuffling forward and a local DJ was counting us down. And then, we were off! I gave a quick last wave to my family and began to run and gather my thoughts.

Pontefract starts with a long, long hill and every year I have to concentrate hard to pace myself as otherwise I go too fast and then suffer for it in the middle of the race. Today though, I’m still shaking off a bit of a cold and so as a consequence I’m running fairly steadily and hoping that it’ll pay off towards the end when I can really up my pace. Fingers crossed! Even this early though, my mouth was beyond dry, so while I’d half-heartedly told myself that I could run about 51 minutes, the heat was going to make that a tough ask.

Pontefract is a lovely run. It’s largely rural, so for most of the race you’re in the middle of the countryside and I used that a bit today in order to try and forget about the heat. The one problem with this rural landscape is that the chances to run in the shade are few and far between and so while I was slowly baking I tried to take my mind off things by taking in the views. I was kidding myself if I thought it was really going to work though and it wasn’t overly long before the heat was beginning to take its toll.

However, by around the halfway point I had ran for 25 minutes, meaning that a reasonably quick run was in sight. But oh, those pesky hills! There are a number of steep climbs on the way back towards the finish and so, combined with the heat, the second half of the race began to feel quite brutal quite quickly.

I kept checking my watch for both speed and distance covered and stayed really focused, even though I was slowing down with every climb. And then as we reached a hydration point I completely lost focus and slowed right down while trying to grab a bottle of water and then take a few big gulps without throwing the whole thing down myself. It was only when I threw the bottle to one side that I realised that I was jogging and that I should have tipped the remaining water over my head!

As we got close to the finish two things happened – firstly, I could feel a numbness in my wrist and left hand as my hands swelled up (again) in the heat. Off putting to say the least! Secondly though, I managed to find a last bit of energy in order to speed up significantly for the last mile.

As I turned into the final straight before the finish line I just decided to sprint. I knew that my time wasn’t going to be exactly what I’d been aiming for, but I was still well inside the 55 minutes that I’d told my son to expect for me. My legs were like jelly and I was far too hot, but I managed to pass a couple of people before just about staggering over the line!

It’s always a weird feeling finishing a race. I got a little bit emotional after this one last year as it had been the first race since my pacemaker and I was genuinely a little scared about doing it. At other times I’ll feel fairly fresh and be able to wander through the finish enclosure smiling and looking halfway alive still. Today, I revert to what is more or less type for me; shattered. I know I must look an old vagrant and like I might just fall over, but I don’t much care. I’ve done it and I’ve got a huge grin on my face.

So now it’s back to training for me. I’ll have a look at whether there are any other races to enter in the coming months, but in the meantime life outside of work and family will just be about running and recovering. I’m still fully aware that I’ve had a major scare and with the reasoning being that the fitter I am, the stronger I am, it’s just about more of the same.

I’m still here, I’m still able to run and I remind myself of this kind of thing every day! So however shattered I might feel after something like this, it’s still something to smile about.

Running: As Spring heads into Summer, here’s a cautionary tale.

I’ve labelled this as a running blog, but with the weather beginning to heat up, I guess it’s just a cautionary tale for lots of us, really.

On Friday I went out for my usual after work run. I’m currently training for an upcoming 10k and so had hoped to run the same distance, just to see how it felt. However, even as I went out at just before 6pm, it was still 24 degrees, which is hot for us northerners. It would have been hot to sit in, but I chose to go for a run!

It was an absolutely beautiful evening. The sun was shining in a lovely blue sky and there wasn’t much of a breeze. But it didn’t take long for me to realise that this was going to be a bit of a struggle.

After a couple of miles, while I wasn’t struggling, I was uncomfortable. The heat meant that I was losing my focus and in turn I was thinking about the fact that I was too warm, too thirsty and beginning to feel tired. I had also begun to fuss about little things; my right trainer didn’t feel tight enough and this was beginning to really bug me, so I had to focus again quickly. I began to think about my route and also to give myself short term goals like quickening my pace or dropping my shoulders a bit or even just counting my steps to retain concentration.

It didn’t work. In the end I got my mileage all wrong. First, I got confused between two routes and took a wrong turning, believing that I had enough route left to comfortably manage the 10k without having to run up a ridiculous hill for the final half mile. Then, having checked my watch a few times, I misread how far I’d gone. The heat befuddled my brain enough that I couldn’t add up anymore and a while later was dismayed to find that I’d only done 4 miles when I thought I’d have covered 5! I knew then that managing a 10k was going to be difficult.

But things got worse. As I got closer to home I realised that my left hand was feeling a bit numb. Now, as a heart patient, any left sided action (pain, numbness etc) can leave you panicking. Something about it didn’t feel right and I was quite concerned. I kept on running though and as I did I realised that my watch felt too tight on my wrist. So, with a little difficulty. I loosened it off. But this still didn’t solve the numbness.

Slightly later and closer to the end of my run I noticed that my hands looked swollen. On closer inspection my wedding ring felt absurdly tight and as a man with thin, girly fingers this was a bit of a surprise! My hands and wrists had swollen right up and I can only put it down to being far too hot. Needless to say, after just short of 6 miles and with a big hill to come before I’d hit home, I stopped, rather than risking reaching boiling point!

When I eventually made it home my hands were still so swollen that I had to just stand with them in a sink of ice cold water for a good 10 minutes, while occasionally taking them out in order to drink more water. Despite trying to run in shade I’d put myself in real danger.

As I said, it’s a cautionary tale. And so, I’ll end with a bit of common sense advice (which I failed to adhere too because I clearly lack common sense). If you’re out for a run in the heat you’d be wise to…

Hydrate properly. Drink enough beforehand and maybe take some with you. And when you finish, drink copious amounts of water!
Maybe wear a hat, regardless of how gormless you think you’ll look. It’s still a better look than swollen hands or ending up flat on your back on a pavement somewhere.
Find the shade. Run in as much of it as you can manage.
Wear some suncream or sun block.
Make sure that you warm down and stretch properly once your exercise is over with.
And if your hands swell up so that you look like someone holding a couple of red balloon animals, get them in some water as quickly as possible!

Enjoy the warmer weather!

NUFC: Ten Things to Love About Bruno.

As we approach the end of another Premier League season rumours seem to be intesifying about Bruno Guimaraes. Across every type of media there seems to be almost a desperate push for the move. Whether it be Manchester City or Arsenal, PSG or Real Madrid, someone somewhere seems to think that Bruno is better off elsewhere.

We could go on and on about why, but that’s not the point of this piece. Southern based press, conspiracy theories and all that can wait. People seem to think that Bruno needs to leave but I’m guessing the vast majority of Newcastle fans would disagree.

Bruno Guimaraes joined Newcastle in January of 2022 from Lyon at a cost believed to be in the region of £36 million. He wasn’t quite an instant hit as Eddie Howe held him back in order to properly acclimatise to the rigours of the Premier League. Instead, he would come on as a sub in a number of games before finally making his full debut away at Southampton. And what a debut! It was in this game that Bruno scored his first Toon goal – an outrageous back heeled volley from a Dan Burn header across goal, right in front of the travelling fans. A star was born!

It’s fair to say that the love affair started that evening and has moved on at pace ever since. Bruno fell for us and we returned his feelings ten fold. In fact, you could say that we love Bruno almost as much as he loves Joelinton. The bastard (more of that later, if you didn’t understand).

For me, Bruno is easily one of the best central midfielders I’ve seen in over 40 years of supporting Newcastle. I can look back on a lot, but without thinking too deeply would struggle to come up with many to rival Guimaraes. Gazza, Robert Lee, Gary Speed and Yohan Cabaye spring straight to mind, but after that I’m reaching a bit. I mean, when you were raised on a diet of players like Kevin Dillon, John Trewick, Pat Heard and Amdy Faye, midfielders begin to stand out for all the wrong reasons.

But comparisons are not what this is about. Rather than ramble and confirm what we all already know (he’s dead good at football), I thought I’d give you ten reasons why I (and probably a lot of us) love Bruno.

He just strikes me as a cracking lad. Bruno and family just make for a lovely story. His kids are Geordies and his wife seems very happy with the whole set up. Bruno seems to have time for everyone; a ready smile and a willingness to immerse himself in the city and the region.
He’s a current Brazilian international. Ever since I watched the Brazil team in the 1982 World Cup and heard about their 1970 side, I’ve been a little bit in love with their footballers. Apart from Fumaca, of course. He was shite. But the fact that Bruno gets in that side is a hell of a yardstick of his quality and I like that being part of Newcastle United.
His kids are Geordies and Bruno seems to be very proud of that fact and of just being able to be a part of our culture. For a lad to come halfway around the world and be obviously so in tune with this kind of pride is just wonderful. Imagine Mbappe, Ronaldo or many other so called superstars being the same. You can’t, can you?
His nickname/pet name for Joelinton just seems to be ‘bastard’. Much like Mirandinha being taught swearing by Gazza back in the 80s, someone has clearly got to Bruno! And Bruno seems to love it!
His celebrations. For a lot of us fans, football is about passion and joy. Bruno echoes that as a player. Whether he’s climbing on to advertising hoardings, doing little dances, kissing the badge, telling various people he loves them or just hoisting up a corner flag, Bruno seems to have something for every occasion. And he clearly revels in expressing that joy. So much so, in fact that there are occasion where he scores and gives us about 5 different layers of celebration! Remember the knee slide at Southampton away, remember the stripping off against Leicester at home, remember the flag waving at home to Sheffield Utd! There’s lots to love.
His laugh. If you’ve watched him on any of the club’s videos you’ll have heard that high pitched laugh. It always raises a smile and is just another sign of Bruno being a bloke who just loves life.
He’s ridiculously uncoordinated, yet still a brilliant footballer. I’ve seen Bruno play darts and I’m sure I’ve watched a video of him riding a bike or a scooter or a skateboard. He was shocking at all of it! It’s one of those little quirks that we can’t fail to like. Pu a ball at his feet though…different story.
His dad. Never before have I shown such an interest in Dick. The man behind the number 39 has become a part of the whole story of these last two and a bit years. Whether he’s accompanying his son and his family while they get interviewed or joining in with the singing in the pub or on the concourse at an away game, the man has become an unlikely star. None of us would have realised that Bruno’s arrival would lead to us loving Dick too…
His passing. I’m guessing we’re all fans of the outside of the boot pass that Bruno has, especially when it comes off. There was a notable one against Luton at home this year that led to Kieran Trippier’s goal. Bruno also does a nice line in ‘no look’ passes, with a one in to Miggy against Wolves a particular peach. The other one that springs to mind is a pass that I don’t have a name for, possibly because I don’t play FIFA. However, it’s a pass that almost looks like he’s scuffed it, almost a scoop. He seems to pretty much miss hit the ball, like he’s trying to dig it out of the turf and it’s quite a common pass that he makes. Teenagers might tell me it’s a knuckle ball, but I don’t know. Anyway, it’s a passing style that I like in amongst a range that I’m a big admirer of.
VAMOOOOOOOS! None of us are surely going to tire of that any time soon.

For me, it’s essential that we keep Bruno. For all the talk of that £100m clause, he’s worth much more to the club and the team. The goals, the showmanship, the clinical passes, even the run of games he went on this season to avoid that crucial yellow card are all illustrative of just how integral Bruno Guimaraes has become at Newcastle United.

Talk of him leaving feels ridiculous. Release clause or not, there shouldn’t be a valid reason to sell Wor Bruno!

Gallowgate Cult Heroes: number 7, Hatem Ben Arfa

Every once in a while, whoever you might support, a player arrives at your club and changes everything. The rules are thrown out of the window, the script torn up and the unpredictable becomes a part of your weekly diet. These players are just…different. Mavericks, renegades, geniuses, ballers, call them what you want, we’ve all had at least a couple over the years.

Hatem Ben Arfa was very much a maverick and for a short time he changed what we thought was possible from a player wearing the black and white stripes and gave everyone who watched him a chance to rub their eyes and wonder if what they’d just witnessed had really happened. His time lacked consistency and even a decent ending, but he left us with a ton of amazing memories.

Ben Arfa was signed in August 2010, from Marseille, initially on loan. It became evident quite quickly that we’d signed someone pretty special. There were flashes of inspirational skill, even though it took the player a while to find his feet. But find his feet he did when we played Everton away in the September of that season. As the half was coming to an uneventful close he took a pass to feet from Wayne Routledge. He then ignored the winger’s overlapping run, preferring – shock horror – to keep hold of the ball. At first he seemed unsure of what to do, but then, having turned this way and that, he faced up his marker, swerved to the left and hit an unstoppable shot from about 25 yards into the far corner of the net. A star was born.

Sadly, less than a month later, Ben Arfa’s season was over when he was the victim of a shocking tackle from Nigel de Jong in our game away at Man City. A broken tibia and fibia would mean that we wouldn’t see Hatem in a black and white shirt for another year.

Perhaps understandably after such a massive injury. Ben Arfa’s second season started rather quietly and he failed to really dominate games at first. However, he would really make his mark in January of 2012.

For those in attendance, Ben Arfa’s goal against Blackburn in the FA Cup may well go down as one of the greatest goals we’ll have witnessed live. As he received the ball in midfield there were three defenders in close attendance. But still, he turned and ran at them. It felt like fraction of a second before he was in the box at the Gallowgate end and despite what felt like half of Rover’s defence surrounding him, Ben Arfa continued to wriggle through. Finally, with opposition defenders pretty much surrounding him, he managed to drag the ball back onto his left foot and hammer it high into the net from the edge of the six yard box.

I’d seen plenty of players who could dribble over the years, but Ben Arfa felt different. Yes, he was inconsistent, but at times it felt like he had the ball on a string. The goal against Blackburn was very much one of these occasions.

Ben Arfa briefly lit up the Mike Ashley years. It felt like an un-Ashley type signing when we got him. He came with a reputation as a little bit of a trouble maker and was said to be on strike when we took him from Marseille. Subsequent years and multiple clubs would prove this to be the case. Why else would Marseille be letting him go out on loan? And yet, perhaps with re-sale pound signs in his eyes, Ashley sanctioned the signing and Hatem became an integral part of the team that also contained Coloccini, Cabaye, Tiote, Gutierrez, Cisse and Ba and would go on to finish 5th in the Premier League.

But, having fallen out with teammates and management left, right and centre at both Lyon and Marseille the writing was surely on the wall from the moment he signed.

Hatem was one of those players who created a buzz. Whenever he got the ball there was an expectancy that something was about to happen. It became apparent that Hatem himself didn’t always know what that something was, but he was tremendously exciting and frustrating in equal measure. Often, when he should have passed he went off on some fruitless solo endeavour, but then there were times when, just as it looked like he’d lost possession, he’d somehow create a yard of space and do something breathtakingly brilliant.

For me, he had a little bit of a Jack Grealish quality, in that he was just as likely to slow play down and turn back with the ball than he was to produce a moment of magic. But in his time at the Toon, we lived for that magic!

Ben Arfa though, will always be remembered for one moment; that goal against Bolton. He took the ball from Yohan Cabaye fairly deep in his own half, but what came next took the breath away. An outrageous flick and turn took him past his marker who was left flailing around on the turf. Then it was all about power. Ben Arfa evaded a desperate tackle midway into opposition territory, somehow managing to keep his feet as his ankles were clipped. Then he just ran for goal, running through two half hearted challenges on the edge of the box before poking the ball past the onrushing keeper with the outside of his foot.

The initial turn was balletic, the drive with the ball all about brute power and speed and the finish almost an instinctive flick. If you watch it on YouTube, there’s an angle where he’s running at the camera and when he’s challenged in their half he cries out, as if he’s been hurt and might take a tumble. But it’s in the blink of an eye and rather than go over, before you know it, the ball’s in the Bolton net and the Gallowgate are up in celebration. From receiving the ball to it hitting the net took around 8 seconds and it’s something that won’t be forgotten for a long time for those that were there. What a goal. What a moment. Ben Arfa at his thrilling best.

Sadly, it wasn’t to last. Almost inevitably Hatem would clash with those in charge. Injuries would disrupt the rest of the 2011/2012 season, as well as a lot of the following year. Rumour has it that, like at other clubs, Ben Arfa fell out with his fellow players, with club captain Fabricio Collocini particularly irked by his behaviour. It’s said that Colo even went to the manager and asked for Ben Arfa to be benched for fear of a player rebellion. Once again, the Ben Arfa attitude had led to him finding himself out of favour and on the move.

There were fan protests about Ben Arfa’s absence from the squad – a Che Guevara style banner with Hatem’s face and the word Hope was regularly seen at St. James’ – and his plight become a bit of a focal point for general fan unrest at the Ashley regime and the running of the team by Pardew. He even appeared sitting with the fans for the home game against Cardiff that year. When Ben Arfa was finally loaned to Hull City, his career with the Toon was over. We would never truly see the man at the peak of his powers.

Ben Arfa’s time at Hull was short lived – amazingly he failed to find inspiration under Steve Bruce – and eventually Newcastle terminated his contract, leaving him as a free agent. His story at Newcastle was sadly over. But his story as a footballer would have much more to come with eventful spells at Nice, PSG, Rennes, Valladolid, Bordeaux and Lille following as well as an unexpected recall to the France squad. But at almost every turn, there was controversy and conflict and at present he remains a free agent.

Overall Ben Arfa made 86 appearances for Newcastle scoring 14 goals, and he never really fulfilled his potential. Still though, there can’t be many of us who wouldn’t have a goal from Hatem in their Top 10 Toon goals of all time.

As you’d expect though, there is one final twist in the Ben Arfa tale. What is he doing now? Not content with waiting things out and looking at finding another club, Hatem was last heard of as embarking on a career as a professional padel tennis player and was reported to be ranked in the top 1500 players in the world!

Never a dull moment, eh?

Book Review: The Runner by Markus Torgeby.

As a young man, Markus Torgeby quickly grew disaffected by a lot of what the world around him had to offer. He knew that society’s expectations were not for him. Despite being a talented runner though, he sensed that pursuing this as any kind of career was not going to work. Too often, injury or just not being in the right mindset got in the way of any kind of competitive edge. As he says himself at the start of the book, “My head was full of dark thoughts. I didn’t know what to do. I had to rethink what it was I really wanted, I had to find a way out of that well.”

What Markus did next – which is documented in the book – seems both astonishing and really quite wonderful.

‘The Runner’ is an international best seller and tells the tale of one man and his quest to find contentment. In short, Torgeby headed up into the Swedish wilderness to live in a tent and dedicate himself to a more simple life, where money didn’t matter, but running most certainly did.

It’s an amazing true life tale, beginning in Jamtland, northern Sweden where the temperature is -22 and Markus is the only person for miles around. This is where he escapes the norms of society, pitching his tent and living among nature complete with enormous amounts of snow, elk and even the threat of bears.

As you’d imagine from the title, running is very much central to Torgeby’s existence. When he vows to run every day, he means it and nothing will stop him, be that extreme weather conditions, injury or mental health issues. Torgeby isn’t just testing his fitness – he’s pitting himself against both the most extreme elements and also just the odds.

Running is where Markus is at peace and I have to say that resonated with me, as I’m sure it would with many runners. The only difference would be – and it’s a seismic difference – that while the majority of us are running around the civilised, normal streets or trails near where we live, Markus Torgeby is running around in one of the most isolated, northernmost territories on the planet! There are threats to life almost with every step he takes. This is not the tale of an everyday runner, despite the fact that he runs every day!

‘The Runner’ is actually really well written and Torgeby rarely shies away from telling us exactly how he’s feeling or what he thinks of the world, even if it can be uncomfortable to read at times. His blunt honesty is one of the most positive features of the book and it’s hard not to be impressed by Torgeby’s principles and way of life.

And then there’s the sheer courage of it all. As someone who rarely takes much in the way of risks, ‘The Runner’ makes for an absolutely fascinating read. Torgeby leaves home to live his life his way when he’s barely much more than a child. And yet, his lifestyle choice is utterly remarkable, especially when you know that he is burdened by the thought of his mother’s suffering, back at home. She suffers with MS and some of the most beautiful passages in the book revolve around her relationship with her son, as he cares for her and helps to make sure that she is still able to experience the wonder of the world around her.

After four years of living in his tent in the wilderness, Markus begins to come to terms with the world around him and the contentment that follows – I won’t spoil what that consists of – gives us a bit of a happy ending.

Part of me felt jealous of Torgeby while reading the book and I questioned some of my early adult decisions in life. It’s funny how something like this can take us back and make us more self critical. Ultimately though, at the age when Markus left home for the wilderness I was probably barely able to cook for myself, let alone live in a tent in some of the most unforgiving territory on the planet, so I was able to give myself a break after all!

Whether you’re a runner, health freak, someone with an adventurous spirit or none of those things, this book is a great read. For me personally, it was interesting to see that I had things in common with the writer and that we shared such a love of running. Ultimately though, if you like an interesting take on life or just enjoy learning about some of the bolder ways to live, then you’ll enjoy this book.

I give ‘The Runner’ by Markus Torgeby

Gallowgate Cult Heroes: Number 6 Mirandinha

Have you ever bought something based more on the way it looks on a shelf than for it’s actual quality? Ever rushed in and made an impulse buy without really thinking it through? I definitely have. For some reason with me it’s hats that bring out the impulse buyer, despite my little head. Newcastle United’s weakness in the past hasn’t quite been so specific; just footballers in general.

It’s fair to say that Newcastle United have never been afraid to gamble. We’ve always been fans of causing a bit of a stir. From spoiling Sir Stanley Matthews’ day in Cup Finals, signing Chilean brothers at a time when most Geordies couldn’t have found Chile on a map to…well you could bring it up almost to the present day when you think about it. I mean, after a couple of years of being here no one suspected what we were about to unearth in Joelinton did they?

One such gamble was the 1987 signing of Brazilian international, Mirandinha or to give him his full name, Francisco Ernani Lima da Silva. Signed from Palmeiras for the princely sum of £575,000, Mira had just scored at Wembley for Brazil in a Rouse Cup game against England. So of course, we jumped in two footed to sign the first Brazilian to play in English football as a replacement for Peter Beardsley, who just left to head to Liverpool. Clearly due diligence wasn’t so much of an everyday phrase back then.

Fifteen-year-old me was thrilled through. My logic was that he was Brazilian and so he couldn’t possibly be anything but class. I mean, I’d watched the 1982 World Cup and been gutted when that amazing Brazil team had got knocked out and I’d also seen plenty of footage of that Brazil ’70 side. My young brain imagined that all Brazilian footballers would measure up the same, like there was just something in the water in those parts!

Remember, this was a long time before Fumaca would grace our club, so my thinking wasn’t quite as stupid as it sounds. I mean, Mira was quick and I’d just watched him score at Wembley as well, so what could possibly go wrong?

To be fair to Mirandinha, things didn’t really go immediately wrong. After an introduction to St. James’ Park before a home game versus Nottingham Forest where he decided to wear a white suit, Mira made his debut a few days later at Norwich. Watching the highlights on the Tyne Tees news the following evening, I was impressed. Mainly, this was based around his ability to run really quickly and shoot from around half a mile from goal, but to teenage Graham, this was exciting stuff. Especially when you think I’d spent the few years before this watching the likes of George Reilly, Tony Cunningham and Billy Whitehurst stomp across the turf at St. James’.

It didn’t take long for Mira to gain his own song. Older readers will remember it fondly…perhaps more fondly than you’ll remember the player, in fact. “We’ve got Mirandinha, he’s not from Argentina, he’s from Brazil, he’s f***in’ brill”. Clearly, this one had more the influence of Black Lace than The Smiths, but it was mildly funny and soon caught on. The other chant of just repeating ‘Dinha, Dinha, Dinha’ was stodgy by comparison.

Mira scored his first goals in a 2-2 draw at Old Trafford in the September. The first was a free kick from just outside the box, while the second was a header at the far post from a corner. He quickly struck up a good relationship with the young Paul Gasgoigne with Gazza often supplying the passes for Mira’s runs and Mira ignoring Gazza in favour of having yet another shot when the situation was ever reversed. The same would be said for Mira’s strike partner Paul Goddard who would often be left screaming at the Brazilian in frustration when he’d shot rather than passed to our far better placed number 9.

The unlikely friendship with Gazza also led to some quite strange English lessons and on more than one occasion Mira would answer innocent questions with a tirade of swearing, much to the young Geordie’s amusement.

In his first season Mirandinha was a relative success, even if he was easily the most greedy player I’d seen outside of school. He reminded me of the kid who brought the ball to school and would insist on playing by his rules as a result. Still, he managed to score 13 goals in 32 appearances in that first season and all seemed well. But this is Newcastle United remember…

We sold Gazza before the 88/89 season and frankly, the team fell apart. Mirandinha would only score 11 goals in a fractious season and was sold back to Palmeiras at the end of it, with the club finishing bottom of the league and being relegated back to the old Division 2. He was a more surly, unsettled and moody presence during that second season, making less and less contribution as the season went on.

In fact, my most stand out memory of Mirandinha came after one particular game, rather than during. It was an FA Cup 5th round tie against Wimbledon and I remember suffering with the usual bout of mindless optimism as I got to the ground. We’ve all been there as Toon fans. But this was our year, as far as I was concerned.

We got beat 3-1 and stunk the place out. Now those two teams didn’t like each other and so at full time, frustration got the better of Mira, who first refused to shake Andy Thorn’s hand and then – incredibly and before my very eyes – ran up behind the Don’s keeper, Dave Beasant and launched a flying kick at his arse before sprinting down to hide behind Peter Jackson who was innocently heading towards the temporary changing rooms at the back of the Leazes. To this day I still can’t quite believe what I witnessed, and it remains my abiding memory Mirandinha’s short time at Newcastle and one of my most vivid memories of any game as a Newcastle fan after 40 odd years of support.

You could argue that Mirandinha was just a case of the right club at the wrong time. He arrived at the back end of the McKeag years, not long before Sir John Hall bought the club and brought Kevin Keegan back. Maybe Keegan could have got a better tune out of our first Brazilian.

Undoubtedly, Mira possessed the raw ingredients to be a success and his record of 24 goals in 71 appearances is hardly bad. Remember these were very different times for English football and there were literally no other Brazilians or even Portuguese speakers in the squad. In fact if I remember rightly, when he signed he was the only foreign player on the books. The change of culture alone would have been incredibly difficult to deal with, let alone the difference weather!

As it was though, Mirandinha was an experiment that didn’t quite work and most likely an attempt by the board to bring in a cheap replacement for Beardsley, who had gone to Liverpool for three times as much as Mira cost. Mira was lightening quick, strong and very direct; equal measures edge of the seat excitement and tearing your hair out in frustration. But for a while he was the darling of St. James’ Park. Definitely a bit of a cult hero.

Footnote: While researching this I came across Mirandinha’s managerial record and was so astounded by what I found that I thought I had to share. Having played for 12 clubs, including Palmeiras on 3 separate occasions he would then go on to manage a total of 20 clubs in both his native Brazil but also Saudi Arabia, Malaysia and Sudan. Staggering. From learning English from Gazza to managing a club in the Sudanese Premier League; amazing when you think about it!

Farewell to Dan Ashworth, the Alan Titchmarch of sporting directors.

So, after what has sometimes felt like some kind of drawn out soap opera storyline, it seems like it’s happening. Our sporting director, Dan Ashworth, has seemingly asked to leave in order to take on a similar role at Manchester United. Newcastle have rightly placed him on another spell of gardening leave and rightly so.

But is it really that big a deal and will anything particularly change at Newcastle?

Despite a social media frenzy of good riddances and doubts about his ability in the role, I think it’s clear to see that Ashworth has made some positive changes in his short time in the job and I’m disappointed by his lack of commitment. I wrote about them in another piece last year, so I won’t bang on too much here, but there have been positives. It’s just that we won’t see them bearing fruit for some time to come.

Ashworth was largely responsible for the signing of Yankuba Minteh, who if his early season form for Feyenoord is anything to go by, has the potential to go on and be a real star in the Premier league. On top of that, there have been some notable additions to our academy set up. Some of us have already witnessed a little of what Travis Hernes and Trevan Sanusi can do, but there are others such as the likes of the young Leo Shahar, Kacey Wooster and Michael Mills down the age groups, all brought in under Ashworth’s influence.

Ashworth has also overseen the development of the scouting network, with the club now very well equipped in terms of assigned scouts to various areas of the world. A number of top level appointments have been made over the last 18 months in order to build a network of people working for the club in order to find the next ‘big thing’ in whatever corner of the world they may be plying their trade. On top of that, the appointment of the experienced Marcel Bout as the Head of Global Scouting could well be an excellent move.

However, this is merely 18 months of good work. And it’s not something that will pay immediate dividends. In fact it’s far too soon to judge whether any of it is good at all. It could be argued too that it wouldn’t have taken a footballing genius to walk into Newcastle United and see that we needed more staff in all areas. Mike Ashley’s neglect in these areas has been well documented with the phrase ‘skeleton staff’ being used regularly to describe the whole operation and the phrase ‘Lee Charnley’ often shorthand for skeleton staff.

I don’t feel particularly qualified to accurately judge Ashworth’s work. I’m an English teacher and a football fan; what do I know about the quality of a sporting director’s work? What I do know is agreeing to join the club, talking of your role as a ‘long term project’ and then bailing on said project after 18 months when some friends come calling doesn’t seem particularly professional.

Delve deeper into Ashworth’s actions and it’s easy to start asking questions. I’ve read a lot about his ambition to align the scouting, analysis and medical departments in order to bring success. But the minute we mention the medical department it’s easy to start picking holes in what Ashworth has brought to the club. The Head Physio, Danny Murphy recently left the club and when we look at the amount of injuries and time lost to them at the club this season it’s hard not to put two and two together! A recent report said we’d lost 691 minutes to injury this season. Now, I know that’s not the fault of Dan Ashworth, but he’s the person who’s overseen the appointments of staff.

If we look at the signings that our sporting director has had a hand in, then it could be argued that more cracks appear. The most obvious problem comes with the transfer of Sandro Tonali and his subsequent ban for gambling. I realise that this could never be as cut and dried as we’d like it to be and that Ashworth cannot solely be blamed. Again though, the due diligence and background checks are all his responsibility. And even with the secretive nature of addiction, the fact that it all remained hidden from Ashworth doesn’t look good. I mean, we’re told about his contacts, his research, his analysis etc and yet this was allowed to happen. The buck has to stop somewhere.

Garang Kuol is another signing who has flattered to deceive and another signed on Ashworth’s watch. Yet to make an appearance in black and white, Kuol has been loaned out to Hearts, where he made 8 appearances and then Volendaam in Holland where he’s made 10. While the lad may have all the potential in the world and may even come good at Newcastle eventually, he’s yet to pull up any trees and his lack of progress looks sightly worrying.

Add to these names the likes of Lewis Hall, Jordan Hackett and Harrison Ashby and you might start to wonder about Ashworth’s judgement.

So what of the future without Dan Ashworth? Well, it’s safe to say that Brighton haven’t exactly suffered since he left. In fact, David Weir, the man who replaced Ashworth has gone on to make some excellent signings including Simon Adingra, Facundo Bounanotte – both of whom started in the recent win at Sheff Utd – and Joao Pedro who we failed to sign and has scored 19 goals already this season. Brighton also currently sit one place ahead of us in the table.

Given the size of the project that our owners have planned at Newcastle, it would be a surprise if there wasn’t a whole host of willing takers for the job. Gone are the days of appointing the likes of Joe Kinnear and we should be able to look forward to a top notch replacement. Names have been mentioned, but I’d be lying if I listed them and pretended to be impressed, as I know little or nothing about their work! But I’ll look forward to seeing who it is that we aim for.

Asides from this, our scouting department will have targets lined up, so it’s not as if losing Ashworth will mean that we can’t attract players. Work will have been ongoing for a long time and it’s been interesting to read reports about the fact that Ashworth’s access to our reports and plans has been rescinded while he’s been placed on ‘gardening leave’. It seems only right though.

In terms of the move, it would be wrong of me to say that I can’t see the attraction. Manchester United are one of the biggest clubs in the world and however you view their record over the last decade or so, they remain an attractive proposition for many in the world of football. Just ask their many fans from all corners of the globe! But their commercial activity and revenue is well documented and being at a club who aren’t as impaired by FFP/SPR would undoubtedly have its benefits.

In reality though, Manchester United are still a bit of a mess and it’ll be interesting to see just how much Sir Jim Radcliffe can get away with before the Glazers stick their collective oars in. The self styled biggest club in the world are currently 6th in the league and Champions League football is certainly not assured for next year. And with Ashworth calling the shots, will the fans settle for the sort of signings that on first viewing may not have them licking their lips in anticipation? After all, they’re a club who love a big name and all its associated glamour.

In the meantime, Ashworth finds himself on gardening leave once again, with his loyalty, ego and even his ability being questioned in some quarters. I keep reading about his successes elsewhere, but perhaps what’s happened at Newcastle might suggest that his powers are on the wane? Maybe, in the same way that all good managers have their time, he’s actually yesterday’s man. And maybe this paves the way for a real forward thinking appointment. The terms of his departure will be hugely important for Newcastle and it’s imperative that we get the best deal possible for the club.

I was delighted to read talk of us demanding £15 million in compensation as well as insisting on a long period of gardening leave. We cannot afford to roll over and submit to whatever demands are made of us. Written assurances need to be forthcoming about any further movement between the clubs and access to our transfer and scouting plans too. The hard work that has gone on over the past two years can’t just be undone because one man has moved on and thinks he can cherry pick whatever he wants at our club.

If Manchester United want Dan Ashworth so badly, then they should be made to pay the going rate. Given his statements about our club and fans in the past, perhaps Rio Ferdinand could chip in?

In the meantime, let’s hope that this latest development is simply a bump in the road and that once the idea of paying for what you want kicks in, the deal can be done and Newcastle United can move on.

Gallowgate Cult Heroes: Number 5 Barry Venison

It’s still quite rare for a player to cross the divide between black and white and red and white. In my lifetime there haven’t been that many and even if we go right back in time, a player who played for both is usually rare enough to grab a bit of attention. However, it’s even more rare for one of these moves to be deemed a success. Just ask Lee Clark or Michael Chopra!

Arguably one of the biggest successes in playing for both Newcastle and Sunderland would be Barry Venison who was adored during his time at both clubs.

Venison arrived at Newcastle from Liverpool in a £295,000 deal. We were in the second tier of English football, having just escaped relegation to Division 3 at the end of the previous season under Kevin Keegan. King Kev was now assembling a squad for a promotion challenge, with the Premiership (now the Premier League) only a year old. Venners would become a key component in that Championship winning season.

Barry had, of course, started his career at Sunderland in 1981. He would become their captain at just age 20, eventually playing a total of 205 times and becoming the youngest player to captain a side at Wembley when our lovely neighbours lost the 1985 Milk Cup. He would leave for the all conquering Liverpool side of the 80s in 1986 in a £200,000 deal and stay there for 6 years before he joined us.

Venison brought much needed big game experience and guile to a squad that, while it was being overhauled, still contained many of the squad from the previous almost disastrous campaign. The likes of Lee Clark, Robbie Elliot and Steve Howey would learn a lot from Venners and his influence would be felt by incoming future superstars like Rob Lee and Andy Cole too. So while Brian Kilcline would start the season as captain, Venison was very much the power behind the throne and would eventually take the captaincy when Killer was out of the side. A latter day Kieran Trippier, if you will. Just with bigger hair.

Undoubtedly, part of Venison’s appeal was his sense of ‘style’. He was no ordinary everyday footballer with his long, flowing blonde locks and unique fashion sense. He was the closest thing we’d get to Miami Vice on Tyneside and some of his choices were legendary. He embraced bleached bootcut jeans and at times even paired them with cowboy boots, while on his wedding day he wore a pink suit, looking every inch the Don Johnson lookalike and outshining his bride at the same time!

A tough tackling, hard running overlapping right back he quickly became a firm favourite with our fans. And although he would only ever score one goal for the club, he was always at the front of the queue when celebrating other people’s goals. Barry simply loved the celebrations and could regularly be found piling in on top of those shaking their fists at the crowd!

After winning the Division One championship, Venners continued as a regular at right back in the team that brought European football back to St. James’ Park for the ’94/95 season. However, that would be the season where his partying pushed one too many of Keegan’s buttons and he was stripped of the captaincy. He would also lose his spot in the team at right back after Marc Hottiger was brought in.

However, Venison was then reborn, converted to a holding midfielder by Keegan. He took to the position like a duck to water as well and was called up by England in the same season.

Barry Venison was what we might call a character. Someone who threw himself into life as a footballer and who – in terms of the modern day footballer – it could be argued, very much made the most of his slightly limited ability. He would move on to Galatasaray at the end of the ’94/’95 season but would live long in the memory of many a Mag. A cross between some kind of catalogue model and a slightly effeminate Viking, Barry more than successfully crossed the divide and his red and white background was never held against him.

NUFC – We can’t do right for doing wrong?

Newcastle United fans, eh? What are we like? With our bloody flags, our songs and our attempts to support our team and help them to win football matches. But that’s not all. What about the club and the team? Buying success, celebrating goals and wins and inventing ‘shithousery’ being the tip of the iceberg. Who do we think we are, eh?

Having supported Newcastle United for over 40 years, I can’t say that we’ve always been popular. The Keegan years aside when we were everyone’s second team, apparently, someone’s always had a problem with Newcastle United. Oddly enough, that problem has grown exponentially over the last two years…I can’t think why.

Do I care what fans of other clubs think? No, of course not. I’m very much with Eddie Howe on this one; we’re not here to be popular, we’re here to compete.

That said, I do find the amount of complaints about us and the amount of moaning from other fans, really, really funny. So, I thought I’d go through a few things that spring to mind, especially as the attention on us seems to have ramped up significantly this season.

Eddie Howe is the master protagonist in all of this. As soon as he joined the club in November 2021, he set about winding up fans of other clubs. And how did he do it? The Lap of Appreciation. Win, lose or draw, our team and staff would stay on the pitch and walk round clapping. Clapping! I mean, straight away you can see how that would irk fans of other clubs. Who does he think he is getting 30 odd men and women to amble round a load of grass clapping at folk? God forbid, if I supported anyone else I’d be understandably livid at all that clapping!

The main problem here, according to fans of other clubs is that we haven’t won a trophy. So, of course we’re not allowed to celebrate anything, ever. In fact it’s possible that within a few months the Premier League will ask clubs to vote on whether clubs in black and white stripes can celebrate goals. Maybe, we can even expect a subsection about getting excited or something like that. That’s before we even get onto the crowd roaring at a tackle being made or a player enjoying the same, which has a seismic influence on the mood of other fans. More evidence of what a small club we are, apparently…

The point in all of this – and I truly hope we all got the sarcasm – is that it’s absolutely ridiculous and more than just a little bit pathetic. Two years of whingeing, moaning, bleating on and the crying of gallons of salty tears and all because what was once dubbed ‘a wee club in the north’ are challenging the status quo again. But the ridiculousness doesn’t stop there.

Probably most famously, Eddie then brought in the celebration photo. That’s right, a photo of people celebrating! So, when we win a match the whole squad, staff and even injured players have a photo in the dressing room. Personally, I love it. It’s a brilliant illustration of the spirit and the togetherness in the squad and coming after watching teams with fractured dressing rooms and very little spirit for years and years, it’s a welcome addition to the way we do things.

Other fans loathe that photo, which is hilarious! When we’ve won, social media is just a wonderful illustration of how much we’ve upset what some fans see as being the natural order of things. And of course, it was even funnier when Jason Tindall organised the squad and staff into formation in front of the away fans at the end of our derby win at the Stadium of Shite recently. The irony of being told that we showed a lack of respect is amazing, given the neanderthal taunts of the opposition over the years!

The re-birth of Wor Flags was something else that got on the nerves of non Mags. While it only requires possession of a pair of functioning eyes to admire the sheer brilliance of some of the displays, apparently if you don’t support Newcastle, they’re anything from ‘pathetic’ to ’embarrassing’. Not as embarrassing as the 17 grand Tunnocks appreciation display that we were subjected to at the weekend, mind. But again, we’re in the wrong for supporting our team, especially if you believe the old opposition fan favourite that it’s all funded by the Saudis anyway, which is obviously bollocks. But why let the truth get in the way of your salty tears and another ridiculous conspiracy theory?

As well as that we’ve also invented something called ‘shithousery’. Previously known as ‘game management’ when certain other clubs did it, it’s been rebranded seemingly because we did it better. Fans of Premier League clubs have been up in arms in stadiums, online and on radio talk ins about how we’re ruining the game with our two balls on the pitch shenanigans and conveniently faked injuries. And the mention of Jason Tindall is like a red rag to a bull!

It’s been amusing to watch the sheer amount of people tearing their hair out over the last couple of years and it’s particularly hilarious to watch the complaints from the so called ‘Big 6’. They really don’t like any attempt to level the playing field, do they?

One of the funniest things I’ve read from opposition fans though, is the one about 5.30 kick offs on a Saturday night. If you haven’t heard it, you’ll love it. The conspiracy theory goes that we get given this kick off time ‘every week’ meaning that we’re on TV. And of course, the reason for that is because it’s prime time in Saudi Arabia, meaning that our legions of fans out there and more appropriately, our ownership can watch the games. This is of course because our owners are bribing Sky…

The mind boggles! No thought to the fact that it actually puts our travelling support out, just a blind belief that kicking off at 5.30 on a Saturday somehow gives us an ill gotten advantage. Once again, it’s good to see we’re at the forefront of so many people’s minds, even if literally none of it makes any sense whatsoever. God forbid that our fans sing and cheers the lads on at those games. And Heaven help anyone who brings a bloody flag!

And then we had the sheer temerity to qualify for a place in the Champions League. Again, there was outrage. The Champions League, it seems was a closed shop where only the clubs who wanted to leave it and the Premier League to form their own EuroMegaSuperDoopa league were allowed to play and make money from. A strange logic, but one that we should have accepted, apparently. Thus, the fume was very much real when poor old Liverpool could only finish in 5th and super club Spurs only just made the top 10.

And so, when the Champions League draw was made and we ended up in our ‘Group of Death’ it must’ve felt like Christmas morning in certain parts of the country! The come down after we hammered PSG on the second matchday would have really, really hurt though! Apparently, us being in the competition was futile and our place would have been much better filled by a ‘big club’. Well, it’s hard to see how any of those ‘big clubs’ other than Man City would have coped a great deal better in the group we’ve got. And the fact that we were still in with a chance of qualifying for the next stage of the competition until the last seconds of the group stage is huge and it’s the kind of thing that would have been eating away at fans of certain clubs. It’s been borne out by the reaction to us going out of the competition. It’s funny how we matter so much!

The last moan, and one of the funniest, is the one that seems to suggest that we’ve found a way to influence the PGMOL and VAR officials. It’s an idea that’s been floated more or less every time we’ve got a decision, but the home game against Arsenal caused a little bit of a stir to say the least. I won’t go too far into it, but our winning goal was checked, checked and checked again and still ruled legitimate. They even reviewed the whole thing independently a couple of days later and it was still a goal.

None of this stopped the crying though, with yet more allegations about our owners having some mysterious influence over officials. Mikel Arteta also went into meltdown not once but twice which was pretty hysterical. I must admit, this didn’t really bother me. I could kind of see the point. If that goal had been given against us, I’d have questioned it as well. I wouldn’t have blamed Arsenal’s ownership or fans though. Sadly, they’re probably still banging on about it even as I type.

So what happened next – 4 weeks on from that game and goal – was pretty funny, really. And predictable, I suppose. When we were on the the wrong end of a VAR shocker with the PSG penalty there was more vitriol, desperation and petty jealousy. The word that seemed to be most prevalent on social media was karma. Now karma is a concept I have a bit of belief in, as it goes. But the next morning, when the assistant VAR who recommended that the ref go to the screen was stood down from his next game and then UEFA clarified and updated the handball rule, it was just obvious that it had been a shocking decision against us. Less karma, more drama it seemed.

It’s been a funny old couple of years as a Toon fan. No one likes us, but as the song goes, we don’t care. This was always going to be the way. Having been bought by an organisation worth hundreds of billions, the green eyed monster was bound to surface at some point. It was probably just a bit quicker than any of us might have expected and definitely from lots of unexpected fanbases. I mean, Crystal Palace? Who knew they were such human rights activists? And let’s not get started on our friends down the road and their sudden penchant for shouting about blood on people’s hands.

For such a ‘small club’, we’ve come a long way in a very short space of time, eh?

Gallowgate Cult Heroes; Number 4 Micky Quinn

If you’re a Newcastle United fan, it’s almost certain that you’ll love a number 9. We’ve been brought up on them. For the older generation, we would have been told stories of Jackie Milburn, Hughie Gallagher and Len White. Some of us might even have been lucky enough to watch the great Supermac in the 70s. The younger generation could point to the brilliance of the likes of Cole, Ferdinand, Shearer and even Callum Wilson.

No one can argue that we’ve had a glut of quality strikers to have idolised over the years. Even when you move away from the obvious, you’ll still find some excellent strikers who’ve left their mark on Tyneside. Micky Quinn is definitely one of those names and to this day holds cult status in Newcastle.

Quinn was signed from Portsmouth at a turbulent time for the club. Arriving in July 1989 for £680,000, he was joining a fractured club. Many supporters were boycotting the club and protesting against the board of the time which was led by one of the most unpopular chairmen of my lifetime in Gordon McKeag. So while Quinn jumped at the chance to join the Toon, he certainly wasn’t popular from the off. Quinn himself famously tells a story of seeing the protests as he walked through the city and bearing witness to a banner that asked ‘Who the f**k is Mick Quinn?’

I was well aware of who he was as the kind of geeky kid who always kept track of the top scorers in every division, so Quinny’s signing excited me and was a rare piece of good news at a time when I could feel myself drifting away from the club and its under-ambitious ownership. As well as being a Bob Carolgees lookalike, Quinny was known for being a little on the larger side and in truth wasn’t the perfect physical specimen, but as he’d say later on in his career, he was the fastest you’d find over the first yard!

My cousin was part of the supporter boycott and I was torn between getting a ticket for the first game of the season or standing outside St. James’ Park like he did and trying to persuade people to stay away and put pressure on the board. Thankfully, I went in that day.

Quinny’s debut is the stuff of modern NUFC folklore. In front of just over 24,000 fans, he scored four goals in a 5-2 win against promotion favourites Leeds United. By the end of the game, no one was asking who he was anymore and Quinny quickly became a crowd favourite. Having stood watching the likes of Frank Pingel, Mirandinha and Rob Macdonald struggle to score goals in the previous season, I was thrilled that we had such a number 9 as Micky Quinn and for many others he would become a hero just based on that game alone.

Quinny scored 34 goals in that first season, cementing his place in the history of the club and also in the hearts of many a supporter of a certain age. After 4 on debut he then went on to score in each of the next 4 games and he simply kept on scoring all season. His record for that season – 34 in 53 games has him in 5th place for the most goals scored in a season at NUFC. I was 18 at the time and the partnership between Quinny and Mark McGhee that season remains one of my favourites of all time.

In his second season Quinny scored 20 goals, but the team finished 11th in the old 2nd division and the writing was on the wall for manager Ossie Ardiles. The season that followed was the now infamous and almost disastrous one that ended with Kevin Keegan coming in as manager and somehow managing to save us from the drop. Quinn scored 10 that year but was eclipsed by midfielder Gavin Peacock who got 21 and it would become obvious that the manager didn’t really fancy our cult hero.

During that amazing first season in ’89-’90 I was lucky enough to meet Micky. He was part of a group of Newcastle players who were taking part in a charity cricket match at a local cricket club in Swalwell. Me and a couple of mates went along and skulked around on the boundary, waiting to try and grab a word with our heroes. I was 17 and still very much in awe of these people who I watched week in week out.

Having managed to get an autograph from Kevin Brock, we waited and waited for Quinny and when he was fielding right by the rope we grabbed our opportunity. He signed my old green and yellow striped away top and was just a genuinely nice bloke. He’d taken a flying catch moments before and was full of himself, as you would be!

Another, rather different memory of Quinny would be from a couple of seasons later and the 91-92 season. It was away at Sunderland and the infamous Liam O’Brien over the wall game. Quinny was actually injured and on crutches at the time but I have a vivid memory of him approaching the way fans in the Roker End at the end of the game, wildly waving his crutches around and celebrating. We’d had a few crucial injuries going into the game and so the draw was actually a great result and Micky, like the whole away end, was ecstatic. He knew just what the club meant to the fans!

To those of us who followed Newcastle United around the country in the late 80s and early 90s, Mick Quinn was a legend. When he wasn’t banging in the goals he could invariably be found ‘de-stressing’ in the local nightclubs and was a big fan of the Tuxedo Princess! A lot of that side of things is detailed in his excellent autobiography ‘Who At All The Pies’, which is a must read if Quinny is a new name to you.

In all, Quinny scored 63 goals in 126 appearances for the club and always gave everything. He embraced the weight of that number 9 shirt and did it proud, starting with that incredible debut. He was eventually sold to Coventry City where he would go on to gain cult hero status with their fans too. Newcastle United moved on in style when he was sold, with Kevin Keegan bringing in Andy Cole as we gained promotion. A lot of us fans will never forget Micky Quinn though!

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