Middle Age Fanclub

Middle Age: Tales of the unexpected.

I’ve been writing this blog for 6 years now. The original idea was to sort of diarise stuff about getting older; welcoming in middle age and documenting what it was like, if you like. That quickly changed when I realised that I’d given myself a platform where I could write about…well, anything!

Six years ago, I’d had a heart operation and so my first 3 blogs were about that. It was the reason for starting the blog. I suppose it was kind of cleansing. A way to let people know how I was feeling without having to do any of that awkward talky stuff that I’m not a great fan of. But then I got to liking writing about all manner of stuff and noticed that there were more than just my friends reading. So suddenly, there I was typing up my thoughts and feelings about music, fashion, young people, football and eventually even plucking up enough courage to share some poetry.

It’s been a while though since I wrote about middle age, but recently I got to thinking about some changes I’d gone through that I hadn’t really expected. So, I thought I’d give the rest of you advance warning of some of the perils of middle age. Something to look forward to, eh? And if you’re already of a similar age or older, some of this might resonate and make you chuckle.

Going white. I’m 52 now and so far, while I’ve been going grey since my early thirties, it’s been a pleasingly slow progression. I’d say that most of my hair is still black and that thankfully, aside from some patches in the sides, I’m more pepper than salt. However, following an operation I wasn’t able to shave for a while. I was fine with this. Being happy to be alive will make you far less vain and so being unshaven and subsequently growing a beard didn’t phase me at all. What did bother me though, was the fact that my beard came through as largely white! I mean, when there was a bit of growth, say after a week or so, I was beginning to resemble some kind of apprentice Santa Claus! Definitely not the change that I was expecting.
Losing my hair. To clarify, I still have a decent head of hair. There are far more who are far younger than me who have lost a lot more hair. That said though, lately I’ve really noticed how much I’m receding. And while in reality there’s very little chance of it, I’ve been beginning to fear the development of a hair island at the front of my head! My forehead is definitely growing where there used to be hair! Like I say, I think it’s a way off as yet, but it’s really bothered me.
Strange marks and blemishes. Another unwanted imperfection has been the development of marks and blemishes on my body. I already have three notable scars – two on my chest and one on my right calf – so I could do with the latest additions to my body! A year ago, I got an infection right at the top of my left leg, just where it meets the hip. I’ve no idea how, but it ended up as a real mess when the cyst burst and I ended up at the doctors. Even he took a deep breath when I revealed the mess that my leg was in. Anyway, a year later and the marks are still there, like two ugly red scars. I also have a mark on my shin that I can’t explain and right in the middle of the large scar on my chest it’ll sometimes get dry and itchy, making for another horrible blemish. Add to this a small red area on the end of my nose and it’s becoming a bit of a problem! It seems that when these things happen nowadays that my body just can’t move on! It’s honestly one of the worst bits about middle age that I’ve encountered so far!
My body. Having been slim all my life, middle age is no fun. I used to be able to eat anything and it had no effect. Now though…ooof! Too much spice = heartburn, coffee = feeling sick, pizza, I’m steering clear of as I think I’m developing an aversion to cheese, red wine (oh, red wine), that used to be my best friend, gives me nightmares and a thumping heart in the night! And it all makes me put on weight. I have a belly that I’m really not fond of, but try as I might it just won’t shift. My body is not enjoying middle age!
Bruises. Suddenly, bruises are taking far longer to heal and going far bluer or greener than before. What’s that all about? I rarely bruised as a young man, but now the slightest touch against almost anything and I’ve got a nasty bruise. This means that, as a teacher, I have a more or less permanent bruise at the top of my thigh where I’ve walked into yet another desk as I do my ’rounds’ in the classroom!
Memory. Now, I’ve never had a great memory. I’m terrible at remembering birthdays and rarely know the lyrics of songs, despite the fact that I may have been singing them on and off for over 30 years. However, middle age has now brought the curse of not being able to remember why I came into a room. The kitchen is the favourite here and it often doubles up as I remember why I’m there – to get something out of a cupboard – but can’t remember what the something was that I was getting.
Hair growth. If you’re wondering, yes, this is a strange thing to include in the same piece as a bit where I worried about hair loss. But that my friends is the weird and ‘wonderful’ world of growing into middle age. Sometimes, everything’s a conundrum! Suffice to say, since the onset of middle age I seem to be sprouting hair in places where I don’t really want it. Firstly, I have more back hair than I’d like. It’s not a great deal, but I’d prefer none really. I’ve always been quite hairy anyway, but my back seems to have decided to play catch up with my chest, arms and legs over the last few years. My eyebrows too have gone rogue. The hair there is just taking on a life of its own and I’m finding myself having to trim it regularly to stop it encroaching up my forehead. And then, there’s my nose. Not just hair in there, but growing on the outside too and while both have been a constant in adult life, it would seem that they’re now just heading into some form unwanted of overdrive! Believe me, shaving the outside of your nose is no fun whatsoever!
A realisation of my uselessness. I’m not really useless. There are lots of things that I can do and lots that I’m actually good at. However, what worries me is far more fundamental. The older I get, the more I’m finding that the essential ‘man stuff’ is a bit beyond me. There’s just loads of stuff that I cannot do. Let me explain. Recently, one of the spotlight bulbs in our bathroom stopped working. This wasn’t a problem. They were easy to change, I’d heard. Just press on the outside, it’ll drop down from the ceiling and you pop the bulb out and put another in. Except ours didn’t. Naturally though, being a bloke, I couldn’t resist a half hour struggle with it first, which succeeded in me breaking the unit leaving it now dangling from the ceiling! The springs to hold the unit in place were either left dangling with the light or flew off into the loft which meant a long time spent crawling around our loft space trying to find them amongst the insulation. No fun, dear reader, no fun! Suffice to say, another two bulbs went soon after, leaving us with one working spotlight. It turned out that our electrician had fitted the less than easy to change versions and only after several trips to YouTube was I able to figure it out and even then fixing it all was far from easy. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so frustrated. Add to my spotlight woe the fact that I won’t go near electrics having electrocuted myself quite badly in the past, I don’t like speaking to people on the phone and that I can’t change a tyre and I’m stuck in middle age feeling pretty useless!

It seems really unfair that just because you get to this stage in life that a million unexpected things start to happen to you. I mean, the health worries have been more than enough and I thought all the awkward changes I needed had come in puberty. I imagined my next stop was pensionable age and all that would happen would be fully expected! This present pit stop is not at all enjoyable!

Anyway, less moaning and more positivity. I’m still here and most of my hair is still its natural colour! Until next time…

Book Review: ‘I Wanna Be Yours’ by John Cooper Clarke

If you know of him, John Cooper Clarke comes under a number of aliases. The Poet Laureate of Punk, the Bard of Salford, the punk poet…he’s even sometimes referred to as Dr. John Cooper Clarke. If you don’t know of him, well it’s best you start with the viewpoint that the man is a star. A poet, a raconteur and an entertainer. And as we find out in ‘I Wanna Be Yours’, he can’t half tell a story!

As such, you’d expect his autobiography to be quite the read. And you wouldn’t be disappointed. Having read it recently in fact, I was actually pleasantly surprised at just how ‘eventful’ his life has been, as the book went way beyond my expectations. I thought I knew a few things about the man who’s considered a bit of a national treasure these days, but on reading the book I found that there are layers upon layers to this fella’s life story. What a treat!

Now aged 75, Cooper Clarke is best known as a poet, although in recent years he’s managed to light up several TV panel shows with his wit, humour and way with words. And it’s his gift for language that makes ‘I Wanna Be Yours’ so eminently readable. The sharp delivery meant that I read the whole thing hearing Cooper Clarke’s voice in my head, which for me made the whole thing all the more memorable.

The book takes us through his early years as a sickly child in Manchester where in fact, a dose of tuberculosis meant that he was moved to the North Wales coast to live with relatives in the hope that the sea air would aid his recovery. Once back in Manchester, we hear of a multitude of adventures as Cooper Clarke grows up and eventually begins to get into clothes and music, slowly honing the look for which he’d become famous in later life.

Eventually, with a bit of luck, a good deal of hard graft and not without one or two setbacks along the way, John finds that he has a gift for entertaining people. And so begins quite the extraordinary tale of a bit of a legend.

This is a brilliant book with any number of twists and turns, a whole host of bizarre and incredible tales and no shortage of surprises. So while I was fully aware of Cooper Clarke’s influence on bands such as The Arctic Monkeys, I certainly wasn’t expecting the likes of Bernard Manning to put in an appearance! And then as I carried on reading and found out about his close associations with the likes of Nico and Linton Kwesi Johnson, I was more than a little bit blown away! But that’s the thing about a life like Cooper Clarke’s and in turn this book; there’s never a page wasted, there’s always something curious or funny or just downright mindblowing around the corner.

A genuinely funny man, with a great turn of phrase, Cooper Clarke’s words will inevitably raise a smile and leave you in fits of laughter at times too. But for all of the light there are many moments of shade and the book – and John’s life – has sad moments too alongside many murky tales of Cooper Clarke’s own drug addictions. But even here, it’s all told with such candour and black humour that I found myself not really batting an eyelid and simply accepting that it had all added to the rich tapestry that I’d been reading about.

In the end, I was left wondering if at times, I’d been had. Surely there are more than a few tall tales and embellishments along the way in the book? However, on reflection I decided that either I didn’t really care – I mean wherever the truth lies, this was an amazing read – or more likely, it was all probably very much true. Because, whether it be looking after somebody’s monkey in Amsterdam and just ducking and diving while looking for your next fix of heroin, it could well have all happened to only one man; John Cooper Clarke.

Whether you know of his legend or not, this is a book I’d thoroughly recommend.

I give ‘I Wanna Be Yours’

Gallowgate Cult Heroes; Number 9 Craig Bellamy.

To this day, and despite him having a chequered past as far as Newcastle United are concerned, Craig Bellamy remains one of my favourite players ever to wear the shirt. Sure, he left in controversial circumstances and with his reputation in tatters in the eyes of lots of us. But, let’s face it, anyone could have fallen out with Graeme Souness and for the 4 years that he was at the club Bellamy was largely electric to watch. Playing in Bobby Robson’s sides that also featured the likes of Shearer, Speed, Robert, Lee, Dyer and Solano it was Bellamy who got me off my seat more often than not.

Bellamy was signed by Sir Bobby Robson in the summer of 2001 for £6.5m from Coventry City. It was a case of us finally getting our man and also of Craig getting his wish. We’d been looking to sign him the previous summer, but without an agent Craig somewhat bizarelly found himself being talked into the move to Coventry by John Fashanu who had decided to involve himself in the talks after a chance meeting with Bellamy’s financial advisor! Bellers preferred the move to Newcastle, but felt pressured to sign with Coventry and so had to wait until the following season and Coventry’s relegation to get his wish.

Bellamy arrived with a reputation as a bit of a bad egg. I remember reading a story at the time about the senior pros when he was at Norwich locking him in the coach toilet on the way back from an away game just to shut him up! And his time at Newcastle wasn’t short of controversy either. But more of that later.

For me, there are two abiding memories when it comes to performance, with Craig Bellamy. The first came in his first Tyne Wear derby at St. James’ Park in 2001. We’d gone behind to an early Kevin Phillips header and then Bellamy struck. After a bit of a skirmish in central midfield, Lauren Robert emerged with the ball at his feet and looked up before scooping a timely pass forward for Bellamy to run onto. He easily outpaced the defender, nodded the ball down and then finished with a beautiful strike from just inside the area past the mackem keeper. In was in the Gallowgate on Level 7 that day and went suitably mental. They’d call it ‘limbs’ nowadays, no doubt. It was just people celebrating back in 2001! We couldn’t quite get the win that day, but the relief when Bellamy scored was tangible.

The other lasting on field memory for me would be the last second winner in the Champions League against Feyenoord in 2002. He scored the first in added time in the first half, but the best was yet to come. Having taken a 2-0 lead, we were pegged back late in the game – a typical Newcastle-like collapse. And then, Bellers popped up again, in the 91st minute. Kieron Dyer’s effort was saved and the when the keeper parried the ball wide of the post it looked like the chance had gone. Somehow though, Bellamy got to the rebound and hit it goalwards, the ball going in off the keeper. We’d just become the first team ever to qualify from our group having lost our first three games. Cue bedlam. I wasn’t there that night and watched it on the telly, like a lot of other Mags, but I’ll never forget it!

I loved the way Bellamy played. All pace and raw energy, I don’t think I’d ever seen a forward as quick. He was like a little wasp, always bothering defenders, always involved and always likely to get on the end of a decent through ball. He struck up a useful partnership with Alan Shearer, but also worked well with the likes of Dyer and Robert. But he played on the edge at all times and was generally a yellow card – at least – waiting to happen. In fact, I seem to remember a time when for several games in a row it felt like the whole ground were shushing him in unison as he made his mouth go again to a referee!

Issues off the field would be Bellamy’s downfall at Newcastle. There are loads of stories to choose from. The multitude of red and yellow cards. Throwing a chair at John Carver at Newcastle airport springs to mind. And of course the fall out with Souness when Bellamy refused to play on the left against Arsenal, which eventually led to him leaving the club. The best part of that particular tale, by the way, was Bellamy doing a live interview on Sky after the game and telling them that Souness had ‘gone behind my back and lied to my face’! I mean, which was it, Craig? Personally though, whatever had actually happened, I’d have had Bellers back and got rid of Souness, but there you go!

The best of the negative stories has to be of a fleeting fall out with Sir Bobby Robson though. Apparently, in a team meeting as Bellamy kept complaining at being the first player subbed every game, Bobby eventually snapped, telling him to shut up, before adding, ‘I’ll squash you like an ant.’ But it got better as Robson then asked, ‘Who are you? Ronaldo, Romario, Stoichkov, Hagi, Guardiola, Luis Enrique, Gascoigne? These are the people I deal with. And who are you?’ Bellers could only reply with, ‘He’s got a point!’

In total, Bellamy made 93 appearances over 4 seasons for Newcastle, scoring 28 goals. He left under a bit of a cloud and would come back to haunt us many times later in his career with the likes of Blackburn, Liverpool and Manchester City. However, for the time he spent at the Toon, for many of us he became a real cult hero. As I said earlier, one of my favourite Newcastle players ever.

What are your views of Bellamy’s time at Newcastle? And do you have any stories of his many misdemeanours?

Teaching: The Reading Test.

I wasn’t planning to write anything at all on this topic. Far brighter people than me have written far more incisive commentary about the importance of reading and the struggles that young people have with it. And anyway, this was just a baseline test; a straightforward reading test done in class with (hopefully) minimal stress. But, in teaching sometimes it feels like nothing is ever straightforward.

September and baseline testing for Year 7s go hand in hand. Not always merrily skipping down a corridor, but hand in hand all the same. So, it should be straightforward, right? Read the texts, read the questions, answer the questions using the information from said texts. And as a bonus, take your time doing it as we can use a little chunk of next lesson too. Easy? Well not for all, naturally. But straightforward, surely?

Of course, if you’re a teacher or have ever worked in education, you know the answer to the question above. And of course, the answer is a big fat NO! As I mentioned earlier, nothing ever seems straightforward in education and some days everything can feel like a battle.

Which brings me to my topic. Reading tests. Or rather, the reading test that I’ve just done with my seemingly delightful Year 7 group.

Now previous readers might already know that I’ve recently taken up a new post at an all boys school. Suffice to say, as you might well expect it’s pretty tough at the moment. On top of a shedload of entirely new and sometimes alien systems and routines, all my learners are boys and therefore full of the ‘challenges’ that boys can bring! That said, it’s a very supportive environment and I feel like I’m getting on top of things and coping with anything that gets thrown at me…metaphorically!

In amongst my cohort of somewhat rowdy boys, my Year 7s stick out like the proverbial sore thumb. I’m new, they’re new and we’re in this together. They’re keen to get on and eager to please and of course, full of questions, as we probably all were at that age. They all say a cheery ‘morning, sir’ at the door and many of them tell me to have a ‘good evening’ or even a ‘good weekend’ when they leave, depending on the day.

So, today’s attempt at a baseline reading test was a timely reminder that there are always hitches, irritations and curveballs in teaching. Okay, this one wasn’t the biggest deal, but it reminded me of the need for patience and also the need to always make sure that everyone in the room is sure of what they’re doing.

The problems started as I gave out the texts. One reading booklet with texts to read from and an answer booklet…where you put your answers. First off, I asked my class to fill in the front of the answer booklet with the necessary information. In this case that was first name, middle name, surname, date of birth and school name. I explained what was needed and also that, if they didn’t have a middle name, then they didn’t have to write one. And this was when the questions started.

“Sir, where do you put your name?”

“Sir, what if I haven’t got a middle name?”

“Sir, what if I don’t want to put my middle name?”

“Why do I have to put my middle name?”

“Why do they need my date of birth?”

Eventually, we got there, even adding my own name to the front of their answer booklet just in case it was misplaced. At least someone would know where to find me.

Next came instructions about time. I’d been told that it didn’t matter if the test didn’t get completed in the hour – we could use next lesson too. So, I made it really clear that the boys should take their time, look for accuracy rather than speed and that we’d have this lesson and the next if needed. It wasn’t a race. You can guess what came next…

“How long have we got, sir?”

The first time they asked, I just repeated myself. Same with the next. And, with a slightly more irritated tone, the next too. By the time the same question had been asked about 8 times in 10 minutes or so however, I felt like steam might be coming out of my ears!

Then, it was time to give a bit of guidance. The answers they needed were in the texts that they were going to read, they should read the texts first before attempting the questions, the paper would tell them which text questions were referring to and so on. But before I’d even got halfway through what I was saying, the hands were going up. I asked them to wait; I might answer your question before you get the chance to ask if you wait until I finish. Still, the hands stayed up like this was some kind of endurance test. And then, when I’d finished…

“Where will the answers be, sir?”

“How do I know what text the question is about?”

“How long have we got, sir?” Just kidding with that one; they’d got the point by now!

Once those worries were seen too, again, I gave a final warning. Treat the test like an exam. There should be no talking and while they should ask if they had a question, I couldn’t just give answers and they’d be better off just reading the text again. And with that, I told the class that they could begin writing.

Seconds later, a hand shot up to ask a question, while the boy sat in front of me started reading the first question out loud.

I give up!

Teaching: New year, new job…first week done!

Having written about my nerves and concerns at starting my new job last time out, I’m happy to say that my first week is now officially done. So, I thought I’d let you know how things went.

It’s safe to say that the first week has felt about a month long and that I’m ready for another holiday. That’s a joke for the humourless and also those people who really don’t like teachers and our allegedly ‘easy jobs’! I am tired though! Anyway, here are the highs and lows of that first week.

The Highs.

We got the band back together. I’m now working with (counts on fingers) 9 people that I’ve worked with before, several of whom are cherished friends and people that I’ve worked with on and off for quite some time now. It’s been lovely, but also surreal at times and I’ve done countless double takes at them walking into my room or just seeing them in corridors and genuinely having the feeling of ‘Hang on, what are you doing here?’ I don’t know when that’ll stop, but it doesn’t lessen the feeling that I’m very lucky to be back in the band. As the frontman, of course before you ask. Me, Ruth, Gemma, Debbie and Emily Smellybumpoo (not her real name, but not far off), it’s great to be back together!

Everyone is so nice. Now, people have been nice before by the way, but having moved from somewhere where I knew everything and everyone really well, it’s been comforting to come somewhere new and meet so many people who have been nothing but friendly and happy to see me. I’ve lost count of the number of visitors to my classroom coming in just to ask me how my day was or how I’m settling in. I mean, sometimes I can walk in my own house and 100% of the people here aren’t particularly moved by my presence, so seeing so many smiling faces pointing in my direction has been a real boost.

No surprises with the students. Kids are just kids, aren’t they? Never an opinion nor a reaction in common and despite my nerves about being at a boy’s school, it turns out that they’re much of a muchness with all the other children I’ve taught before. Probably the best moment of the week in terms of students actually came outside the classroom while I was on duty on the field on Friday. Two students approached me, asking ‘Are you new, sir?’ When I confirmed that I was, one of them told me that he was in my interview lesson months ago and that he was pleased I’d got the job, before wishing me the best of luck and leaving telling me, ‘Yeah, you’re sound, sir’. Praise indeed!

It takes me 7 minutes to get to work. My commute is just 7 minutes. That’s the high, right there.

Fridays are amazing. On Fridays I have a free period and my afternoon consists of a class of lovely Year 7s followed by the final lesson of the week in the library with my Year 8s. For the final part of each library lesson I get to read our class reader to my class, while they just sit and follow. I absolutely love reading aloud in class, always have done, and now I get to end every week of the year doing just that!

The Lows.

Training Days. With the dawn of corporate style academy trusts came many things to complain about. One of the worst is the first day back conference. It doesn’t seem to matter where you go; you can’t escape. And it doesn’t matter what training you choose to do, or who’s speaking because it all adds up to a 7 or 8 hour day of being talked at. This is not my strong point and I’d say that usually at around 7 or 8 minutes in, I’ve stopped listening. My eyes are open, I’m breathing, but frankly, I’m on auto pilot. The lights are definitely on, but it’s not really me that’s at home; I’m more a combination of Elmer Fudd, some sparkly lighting and a bowl of custard, which is useful. This year, there was a motivational speaker. He spoke for over 90 minutes which served to destroy my back and leave me with numb buttocks that may never regain full sensitivity. I’ll also never forget his name or achievements because he mentioned them in almost every other sentence. By the end of it all I felt like I’d done 3 rounds with a UFC fighter! That said, it was still more fun than my old place where I was once asked to contribute to a round of applause the lead school’s GCSE results! Reader, I sat on my hands and grimaced.

There’s always that one class. Let’s just say that they were testing out the new bloke. It was no great surprise, but for a whole lesson one of my classes just would not behave, would not be quiet and would not listen. They were relentless. I felt like a student teacher again, helpless and useless. I was flustered, frustrated and boy, was I sweaty! This cloud had a lovely silver lining though. Senior staff were angered, concerned for me and apologetic, even though there was no need. Boys will be boys, will be boys. The reaction helped show me the strength of the team I’ve joined though. My head of department asked jokingly, would I be back tomorrow. Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow, as some bloke with a pointy beard and a dodgy earring once wrote.

The lack of sleep. I haven’t made it to my alarm all week. Every morning, I’ve been out of bed before it’s gone off, having been awake for a while beforehand. I’m happy to have made the change, but definitely unsettled by it all. I know I’ll be ok in a few weeks when there’s a lot less newness, but for now, I’m shattered!

Hall, Oates and…Bedingfield? Starting something new can clearly do something strange to your mind. True to form, for some reason I’ve had ‘You Make My Dreams Come True’ by Hall and Oates and ‘Unwritten’ by Natasha Bedingfield relentlessly running round my head all week. Now, I love Hall and Oates and always have done, but Bedingfield is just a mystery. And a massive pain in the arse.

No goats. Believe it or not my new school not only has a forest school, but also a kind of allotment style arrangement for our more vulnerable learners known as the barnyard. Among the animals there we have goats and I bloody love goats! Sadly though, despite keeping an eagle eye out whenever I’ve been in the vicinity I’ve not seen even a hair of a goat. I’m gutted, but hopeful that my first goat encounter isn’t far off! Maybe next week…

I never thought I’d leave my old place. I loved the place, the people and the students. But then life got in the way, as it has a habit of doing and just when I was about as low as I could get, another opportunity presented itself and I was lucky enough to be able to take it.

I’m at the very start of that opportunity. It’s been a ridiculously busy week and stressful too. But then, I expected that it would be. I have to say though, I’m really enjoying my work. I miss lots of things and people at my old place and it’s been strange being in a new classroom, not knowing my way around the school – I’ve got lost at least 5 times – and not seeing some of my favourite people. But you know what? I think I’m going to love working at my new place. One week down of a new school year…only 190 more days to go

Teaching: New school year, new job…help!

This September I start a new job. This shouldn’t be a big problem for me, yet I’m more than a little anxious about the change.

As I said, it shouldn’t be something that’s too alarming. I mean for a start, this was my choice. Furthermore, I’m entering my 25th year of teaching – what’s that, you wouldn’t know it to look at me and I should get out of town, you say? It’s true though and in my head that should mean that I’ve seen it all before and that a change like this shouldn’t really have an effect. But it is and there’s quite a lot that’s bothering me. But rather than write about it in a “pick me” as my kids say, kind of way, I thought I’d try to make people smile a bit. Let’s play this for laughs, not for sympathy.

Let’s start with how it all came about. I’d been at my last place for 9 years, most of them blissfully happy ones too. I was appointed as a Lead Practitioner and although at first it felt like the school might not know what to do with me, it was thoroughly enjoyable and I felt like I was contributing a lot. Over the years I felt like I was really helping out at the school and affecting change in my own small way. I’d occasionally run whole school or departmental training. I’d do morning briefings about various things, taking the lead on reading and oracy in particular with the emphasis on getting my ideas across while also giving people a bit of fun at the start of their day. I’d also do fairly regular assemblies. In short, I felt like I was good at my job. Apart from mentoring; I was shit at that.

Three years ago though, I was told that my role was no longer viable for whatever reason and that was that. Unless I wanted to apply to be in charge of KS4 English, I’d be back as a teacher of English only. The KS4 role just wasn’t for me and so I went about my business as a teacher. Sure, I sulked a bit but overall I was professional and did my job to the very best of my ability. The cut in wages and lack of challenge never left me though and I decided that I’d be leaving, as much as it would hurt.

Then, two years ago, I got ill. My heart decided not to bother working properly anymore and it resulted in me having 4 months off work. When I returned, nothing felt the same and I spent large parts of last year feeling really unhappy. Now, I’ll be honest, I probably look unhappy most of the time anyway, but this was different. Inwardly and outwardly, I just wasn’t smiling.

Luckily for me another chance presented itself and with a touch more luck, I got the job. So, just what is it that’s worrying me then?

I’m someone who likes to have fun at work. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a professional first and foremost, but I’ve loved being class clown for a long time too. For me, teaching is largely just showing off.

One of the ways that I like to have fun is via email. Childish, I know, but I love a daft email. Now though, I find myself worrying about how that first email will go down. At my last place, my first really silly one involved asking everyone in the department what music they’d have as their walk on music, if we could bring in such a thing. It’s the kind of thing that I daydream about in meetings. If you must know, I’d have a burst ‘No Limits’ by 2Unlimited, followed by a bit of ‘The Power’ by Snap before finishing with the drama of ‘One Voice’ by Barry Manilow. Genius, I know. I’d look fabulous as well, by the way.

Anyway, after 9 years at my old place everyone was more than used to this type of thing and most seemed to enjoy it. But how will it all go down in a new setting? I’m heartened by the fact that I know some of the people in my department, but still, I don’t want people to think of me as a complete knobhead. Not until they get to know me, anyway.

On a much more serious note, I’m anxious about creating relationships with my classes. It’s always hard and having been at the same school for 9 years, it’s not something I’m used to any more. Sure, I had new classes every year, but this year barely a pupil at the school knows me. I know that after a few weeks they’ll be used to me and I’ll be used to them, but the fact that it can be such a gruelling process is still a little daunting. I’ve never been one of the ‘don’t smile ’til Christmas’ brigade and want students to enjoy being in my lessons so for me relationships are key.

It’s a similar story where relationships with colleagues are concerned. As I said earlier, I already know some of my department having worked with them before, but as for the others, I don’t even think I’ve met them all. I’m really quite a shy person. In my recent leaving speech I joked that probably only 40% of the people present actually knew who I was, but I might not have been too far wide of the mark! Hopefully though, I’m able to come across as far less of a tool than I actually am. I might even try to chip in with some useful comments in meetings, just to smooth the way! Best to get some brownie points in the bag before that first email, I guess!

Learning names is also something to fret about. I’ve never been the best in this area of my job. With students I’m usually quite good, just because I see the same names on a register time and time again, although there’ll always be one or two that slip the net. However, it’s staff names that I really struggle with. There are already a couple of people that I’ve met where I’m unsure of their name. It’s a particular blind spot with me and although there’s always ‘Miss’ and ‘Sir’ to rely on, I always feel guilty about this particular flaw. A whole fresh start with an entirely new staff suddenly feels like an accident waiting to happen. I’m never far off an ‘alright Dave’ situation when I’m talking to a Mike or a Paul and it’s inevitable that I’m only weeks ago from a misnaming faux pas!

Almost a quarter of a century of teaching has seen me acquire quite a lot of ‘stuff’. And finding it a home makes me anxious too. I’m yet to see my classroom and so don’t know if there’s space for all I’ll bring. Further to that is the fact that it’s going to take loads of trips back and forth from my car to get it all in too. I deliberately left quite a lot behind and have even culled some of the stuff I brought home. I mean, I took around half a box of spare worksheets and paper resources that I had knocking around in my old room before looking at them in my front room and realising that, having not probably used any of it for the best part of a decade I’d probably have no need for it anyway! It’s odd the things that you cling on to. Luckily, there are probably only around 7 boxes worth to transport. And then some bags too! Someone help me!

My new job is at a boys school. The first same sex school I’ll have taught in and although I know exactly what to expect (lads, lads, lads, I suppose), it unnerves me a bit. I know it’ll take a bit of getting used to. I know that I’ll spend the first few weeks looking at my class thinking stuff like, ‘There’s something not quite right here’ and doing comedy double takes at the fact that ‘THEY’RE ALL BOYS’!

And then, and by no means finally but I have to end somewhere, there are the little things. The ones that will probably turn out to be nothing, but will almost certainly keep me awake the night before it all begins.

Firstly, I haven’t got my pass yet. And what are we without a lanyard, eh? I mean, a chair of governors once wrongly accused me and a couple of others of turning ours around deliberately at an open evening in order to avoid parental questions, so I’m envisaging a horde of riot police charging at me when I turn up without one. But also, how do I get in to the building? What if no one comes to get me? And then, when I finally get it what do I do if the picture is one of those where my smile is on the wane, so to speak? You know, like it’s sliding off your face? What do I do then?

There’s also the bit where you have to introduce yourself to the whole staff. Sure, it’s just a stand up and wave thing, but if anyone’s going to trip over his own feet on the way up or miss his chair on the way back down, it’s me. My brain has a terrible habit of either making me say stupid stuff or do something even stupider. So, I’m really looking forward to winking at a hall full of people while pointing my fingers or doing a peace sign like some cheeseball gameshow host and all the while not having a clue how any of it happened.

Furthermore, I’ve never parked in the actual car park. I’ve always been in a handy visitor’s space. So what if I park in the wrong place? It’d be just like me to park in Big Tony’s space (the bloke who everyone fears and no one knows what he actually teaches – every school’s got one). I’m not a young man anymore; I could do without all of this!

All this is running round my mind and I haven’t even got to the usual expected raft of IT problems that have haunted me for years. The board that only works on days with an ‘e’ in their name, the forgetting of my own password, wrestling with a more advanced version of ClassCharts than I’m used to and then of course, my nemesis…the bloody visualiser! We still used a telly on a trolley when I first started, so it doesn’t take much in terms of IT to put me in a flap!

Changing jobs has made me feel ludicrously inexperienced again, before I’ve even started. I’m finding myself worrying about things that bothered me as a newly qualified teacher back in the late 1800s. Anyone that knows me will also know that none of this is an exaggeration either! Luckily, I know that really it’s just a case of getting the first month out of the way before I’m into some kind of routine and things are pretty much falling into place. Give it a year or two and they’ll have stopped talking about the amount of times I locked myself out of a building, the ridiculous resources I brought or even my inevitably ill fitting high viz for duties too.

Wish me luck! I think I’m going to need it!

NUFC: Sandro’s back, olé, olé, olé!

There are loads of things that shouldn’t really be exciting, but just are. The two pence machines at the arcade. Jumping waves with the kids. Getting something that scans at the wrong (reduced) price at the self checkout. Christ, for some of us getting a text or a WhatsApp message still causes a flutter. Truth be told though, none of these can hold a candle in the adrenaline stakes to things like white water rafting, bungee jumping or skydiving and yet there’s still at least a tiny bit of excitement to be had from them.

In a weird way, it’s a similar story with the return of Sandro Tonali for Newcastle United. We’re excited to see him back because he’s one of ours, but truth be told we’ve barely seen the lad play. We’ve certainly not seen anything like the best of him, I’d expect. Still though, there’s a skip in the step kind of feeling to the fact that he’s about to be available for selection once again.

In truth, Sandro owes us, really. We’ve stuck by him, just as the club has. His name has been sung lustily by thousands both home and away, but he hasn’t played in front of us for 10 months. But then, it’s not in the nature of Newcastle fans to hold back when it comes to support. Whether we’ve been telling the world that he “drinks Moretti” and “eats spaghetti” or just giving it the old “Sandro, olé, olé, olé”, we’ve been right behind a player that hasn’t kicked a ball for us in a a long, long time. Yes, there’s always a scapegoat or two, particularly if you enter the cesspit of the NUFC hashtag on social media, but in the main our team can be sure of receiving our backing. It’s just what supporting Newcastle is about. If they’re in the shirt, they’ll be backed by the majority at least. I mean, none of us are in it for the trophies…

Tonali’s ban ends this week and it’s already been revealed that he’ll be in the squad for Wednesday night’s game away at Forest in the Carabao cup. I for one, cannot wait. I honestly don’t know what to expect as well. He was someone who I’ll happily admit to knowing nothing about before he signed – I’d never seen him play. And I don’t play FIFA. So, after only 13 appearances and 1 goal last year, there’s still a lot to learn. To haul out the old cliché, it really is just like a new signing. Which given the window we’ve had as I write, can’t be sniffed at!

Since being banned for breaching betting rules by the Italian Football Federation, we’re told that Sandro has been working hard. “Incredibly hard” in fact according to Eddie Howe. And rightly so, to be fair. He’s trained as normal while also finding time to learn English, which will benefit him enormously. He’s also made numerous visits to Italy to undergo counselling for his addiction.

It’s to be hoped that being able to train regularly with is team mates will have helped help Sandro immensely, acting almost like an extended pre-season. Howe says that Sandro is popular within the group and so it’s to be hoped that he can slot straight into the action quite smoothly. I guess all that’s likely to be missing is match sharpness, but hopefully his reading of the game, natural athleticism and footballing intelligence can compensate in those first half dozen appearances. After that, it’s to be hoped that he’s flying for the rest of the season.

It could be argued that the highlight for Tonali in a black and white shirt was his debut. The link up play with Bruno and Joelinton promised much, the range of passing and the drive to get on the end of the cross and volley in the opening goal, well you couldn’t have written that. Now, after ten months of frustration for all, he’s back and vowing to repay everyone at the club. This far into his career at Newcastle, it shouldn’t be exciting. But it is!

Welcome back, Sandro!

Book Review: I Blame Morrissey by Jamie Jones

Music and sport can do funny things to a person. Those of us who take an interest in either or both can become unhinged, erratic, obsessive and just plain odd because of how they make us feel. In fact, if you’re a fan of both, you may well get to a certain age and look back in wonder, unable to fathom out some of your decisions, while simultaneously still believing that they were right all along. People won’t understand you and you won’t understand what there is to understand, but quietly you’ll be fully aware of just what a weirdo you probably are.

Jamie Jones is one such weirdo and ‘I Blame Morrissey’ is his attempt to explain his obsessions with music and to a lesser extent, football.

Jones grew up in the 90s – like me – and was obsessed by music and football – like me. However, while I made some ridiculous decisions while following bands and Newcastle United, I managed to allow life to get in the way and eventually grew into a reasonably well adjusted adult. Sort of. Jamie Jones – and I can’t disguise some kind of jealousy – got more and more obsessive until he was allowing his life to be dictated by song lyrics. And as crazy as that might sound to some of you, it all makes for some incredible stories.

‘I Blame Morrissey’ tells the tale of a young man growing up and trying to navigate the world around him while also dedicating himself to following music and Peterborough United. And for most of the time, music and Peterborough win out, meaning that relationships are doomed because of perceived messages in songs and important dates and occasions missed because Peterborough have a game in some meaningless competition. I mean, we’ve all been there, right? Right?

Jones’s teenage years were dominated by girls, Peterborough United and musicians like Billy Bragg. But like any good music fan his journey takes on various twists and turns, many of them familiar to me and most likely to some of you too. Thus, if you are of a certain age there will be something here for you; a memory to empathise with or the reminder of a song that brings it all flooding back. There are festivals from a time when it was the music that was the most important thing. There are tales of The Charlatans, Morrissey, Ride, the Britpop years, of loves lost and found and of any number of decisions made in the name of whatever the latest obsession happens to be. There’s even some Teenage Fanclub, which obviously resonated with the bloke who writes this blog.

There’s a lot of this book that I feel like I lived myself. A great deal of the rest of it buzzes with a familiarity and a nostalgia that I simply couldn’t get enough of. And for that reason, everything about the book was a joy for me; like stepping back in time.

If you grew up with posters on your bedroom walls that you sometimes talked to, if you ever bought items of clothing because your idols did, if you ever changed your walk or your body language just to be more like your heroes or if you ever endangered a friendship, relationship or even your own life just to go and see a band, then ‘I Blame Morrissey’ will be right up your street!

I give ‘I Blame Morrissey’…

Ben Brereton Diaz v Fabian Schar – what really happened?

So, even though we got three points and recorded a clean sheet in our first game of the new season at the weekend, there was really only the one talking point. What on God’s green earth was Ben Brereton Diaz’s reaction to Fabian Schar’s so called headbutt all about? I mean, I could end this one early and just confirm that he’s a massive cheat, but I’ve been having a think and wrote a few alternative ideas down, just for a bit of fun. Here’s what might have actually happened.

The famous sniper in the stands returns. The same person who got Steven Taylor all those years ago against Villa, the same one who regularly targets Mo Salah and sometimes hangs around SJP to get a pot shot at Miggy.

Or could it be the same one who ‘shot’ at Donald Trump a little while back? And if it made a superhero like Donny fall, then why not a bang average Premier League footballer? Will Diaz appear for his next game with an elastoplast on his forehead like Trump’s famous ear bandage, just to be even more convincing? Maybe, like Trump’s supporters, Southampton fans will follow suit. Who knows? Whatever happens, Diaz will forever look like a tw*t.

Thinking about the future. We all know that footballers have a short career. And gone are the days when they could just go and run a pub when they hit thirty something. So maybe Diaz is thinking of becoming an actor and just getting his audition in early. If they ever remake Platoon, he’s got to be up for a role along with the aforementioned Taylor.

Garlic Surprise? Even the most biased Newcastle fan can’t think that Fabian Schar was entirely blameless. You stick your head in, you’re asking for trouble. That said though…it was all Diaz’s fault, the cheat. But what if Fabian had eaten one of his famous garlic surprise (with extra garlic) sandwiches before the match? Or had a cheeky lamb bhuna for his pre-match meal. I mean, they’re famous for their love of curries in Switzerland, apparently. Death breath plus a very sensitive nose? Could be…

Karaoke? It’s a little known fact that Ben Brereton Diaz is a big, big fan of karaoke. Apparently, he’s got his very own machine. A top of the range one from Tandy with disco lights and everything. Could it be then, that in an effort to diffuse the situation, he was simply bursting into song. I mean, by the look on his face he’s got to be doing Total Eclipse of The Heart by Bonnie Tyler, right? Either that or he’s just a dick.

Hair problems. Fabian Schar leans in towards Diaz’s head and in an effort to pull away and, in the spirit of fair play, not get Wor Fabby sent off he lashes himself back just too quick and gets a stray lock of hair from that frankly magnificent mane in his eye. Listen, back in the day, I too had magnificent long, flowing locks. Or was it a shit mullet? I’m too old to remember. What I do remember though, is picking up a similar injury at a Europe concert at Newcastle City Hall in the late eighties. I think it was during The Final Countdown and believe me, it stung.

Or maybe all of this is just b*ll*cks and the truth is that VAR failed us and Ben Brereton Diaz is a cheat? In the end though, three points is all that matters. Ain’t karma a bitch, Benny boy?

NUFC: Reasons to be cheerful…

Let’s be honest, even for the most positive and patient of Newcastle fans it’s been a bit of a frustrating pre-season. It seems like a lot of our fans had expected a bit of a spend up after the last second PSR related drama that led to the sales of Yankuba Minteh and Elliot Anderson. Now was the time, in their informed opinion, for us to spend big. In fact, some of them seemed to think that they had a genuine insight into how the PIF work and that now they’d just be throwing money at big name signings.

And yet, here we are. Hardly in crisis, but with some of our fans seemingly apoplectic with rage for a range of reasons such as a £65m transfer taking too long or, at the time of writing maybe not actually happening, a club in a town you’ve never heard of in America being unable to afford Miggy Almiron and well, John Ruddy. Aye, John Ruddy seems to be a very unpopular 4th or 5th choice keeper with some people!

Anyway, in the interest of balance and hopefully common sense, I thought I’d offer some reasons to be cheerful. So, in no particular order, here they are.

The transfer window doesn’t close until August 30th! Now, I’m no mathematician, but that still leaves a decent amount of time for us to make more signings. So that right winger that most crave could well arrive yet! We all know that the last few days of the window are always when it all starts to heat up and so I fully expect us to get some quality in even if it takes until those last few days. And for the real naysayers, that’s also plenty of time for us to get rid of a few too!

Lloyd Kelly and Will Osula. For me, both are very good signings. Hear me out. Lloyd Kelly looks both solid and agile. He’s no slouch either. Fitting in with the Eddie Howe criteria, he appears to be a very good character too and so you’d imagine he’ll fit in well. In my opinion, he improves us even just as a back up, but I suspect we’ll see quite a lot of him this season, should he steer clear of injury. Will Osula is another good signing. OK, it’s all potential and statistically there’s not a lot to back things up, but I’m hopeful that he’ll make the step up and maybe just be inspired by the support that he’ll get. I remember people questioned the signing of Andy Cole at the time and look how that turned out. The lad is young, so let’s give him time. Osula is quick, skillful and athletic which are all good qualities for a modern day striker. And if Eddie can work his magic, then we might just have got a steal at £10m.

Football’s back! I take a different view to most during pre-season in that I actually quietly enjoy the lack of games to worry about. Maybe it’s down to my formative years watching teams managed by Bill McGarry, Jack Charlton and Jim Smith or maybe just a direct result of Mike Ashley’s tenure, but while I miss watching football, I don’t miss the stress of it all and the idiot that it turns me into! Like I say though, I’m definitely in the minority here. So, crack a smile and enjoying getting back to the match, man! And regardless of whoever might be playing right wing, just support the team as you always do!

Sandro olé, olé, olé! By the time you read this it’ll be under a fortnight until Sandro Tonali is able to make his return in black and white. There was a lot of excitement when he signed last year. Here was a Serie A superstar and mainstay of AC Milan’s midfield signing for the Toon! I mean, what a signing! And then he made a great start with a goal and Man of The Match performance against Villa, as well as an unexpected appearance at ‘Spoons too! After that, there were more tidy performances, although he looked like he was still finding his feet a bit. And then, the betting allegations surfaced and all of a sudden he was banned. But Sandro was not forgotten, hence the chant. Sandro Tonali’s return is within touching distance and adding him into a midfield with Bruno and Joelinton is very much a reason to be cheerful.

Joe Willock. Injury restricted Joe Willock to just 9 starts and 5 sub appearances last season and there were times when we missed his guile and hard running. Since signing on loan under Steve Bruce in 2021 he’s played 95 times and scored 15 goals, creating some amazing memories in that time and in the last year or so he’s struck up an excellent relationship on the pitch with Alexander Isak. I, for one, can’t wait to see the lad back.

The future’s bright! In terms of youth, last season was all about Lewis Miley. He was superb and it was a joy to see another local lad break through into the first team. As we gear up for a new season, Trevan Sanusi seems to have had a breakthrough in pre-season and been the standout performer in terms of our young players coming through. And I’ve no doubt that he’s got a real future at the club and will make his first team debut in this coming season. However, he’s not the only prospect that could make strides in ’24/’25. Add in the likes of Alfie Harrison, Cathal Heffernan, Leo Shahar, Alex Murphy, Travis Hernes and even younger players like Anthony Munda and Sean Neave and there’s a lot coming through the ranks that can offer some hope. And don’t forget, another Miley – Jamie – has been performing pretty well in pre-season too!

So, while we might not have got your preferred option in at centre back, right wing or even up front – yet – I’d hope you’d agree that there are still plenty of reasons to be cheerful as a Toon fan! Here’s to a successful ’24/’25 season!