Home Bargains

I went to Newcastle 2 Burnley 1 on Saturday. Thoroughly enjoyed myself!

After the sad demise of Whitburn & Cleadon FC, who we’d pummelled 12-0 back in August, Percy Main were left without a fixture on Saturday 6^th December. In searching around for a game, I’d identified Whitley Bay Sporting Club v Willington Quay Saints on the 4G at St Peter’s Fields as being the best fixture on offer. However, my mate John, who was heading over from County Kildare for the Burnley game, managed to source me one at SJP. Now I’ve finally retired my old BlackBerry, I actually have Google Wallet on my new (old) phone, so I was able to download the ticket and enjoy the 21^st Century from Row N in the Leazes East Stand corner, which is now my preferred location whenever possible. The real question is, how come a seat in the middle of a row suddenly becomes available 48 hours before a home Premier League fixture kicks off? I’ve no idea, but John who is a keen observer of these things, noticed how about 60 spaces for Spurs suddenly went on line the day of that game. Apparently, they were unsold corporate ones, with no option for the bland 3-course meal included, available for £55 rather than the usual £300 plus. Must be some decent bait they’re serving these days. On Saturday morning, a dozen or so Burnley tickets also appeared, strangely enough.

Perhaps the NUFC Against Sportswashing crowd should avail themselves of these last minute deals. Firstly, it would allow them to actually see what the inside of St. James Park looks like and secondly they could hold up one of their banners, instead of bellyaching that the Gallowgate Flags organisation hasn’t stumped up for one on their behalf. Then again, we don’t need Denver’s Islamophobic Army in our home, do we? Seriously though, I still feel the unexplained appearance of so many last minute tickets suggests the club still doesn’t have a full handle on who all of our season ticket holders are. Almost certainly, the recycling of the Ashley giveaways from a few seasons back have fallen into the hands of the wrong sorts. I’d like to have asked the immaculately dressed “Hoppy” Hopkinson about that issue at the We Are United event in The Stack on Monday 1^st December, but I didn’t know it was on. Afterwards, NUST sent out a comprehensive summary of proceedings via email and, while the content of the evening was predictably anodyne, with lots of warm words but nothing of substance about ground moves and so on, I’m glad the club are no longer behaving like the Ashley regime when it comes to fan engagement. It’s all well and good wanting to be as big as Real Madrid by 2030, but real action, including the welcome backing of our fans to the hilt following the Marseilles debacle (and I’m not talking about either Nick Pope or Holly Blades here) is to be warmly welcomed.

Similarly, we can give two cheers for the team’s performance on the pitch since we got back from the international break. 10 points from 12 in 4 league games may not have moved us significantly higher in the table (though if we’d held on against Spurs we’d be sitting 6^th now), but we’re now 9 rather than 2 points above relegation and that can only be a good thing. What is most encouraging is that we faced a couple of daunting fixtures at the start of this run and passed these tests with flying colours. Perhaps we were lucky in the City game to survive two decent penalty claims and to find both Harland and Foden unable to hit a barn door. However, it’s nice to get a rub of the green for once and it was a much improved performance, helped massively by the return of the two best fullbacks at the club and the only one of our 4 wide players who is displaying any kind of form. This was a deeply satisfying and deserved win.

Marseilles was the polar opposite. I’d gone in to this one, saying I’d be happy with a 3-0 loss, if we could guarantee a win away to Everton. In the end, I abandoned that position as Marseilles weren’t really that much cop and we could have been out of sight by half time. Alright, so their winner was a good bit of football (and frighteningly similar to the first Spurs equaliser a week later), but the good work, and missed chances, of the first half were undone by Pope’s insane rush from goal for their opener. What he was thinking I’ll never know, but the result of his actions was that less than a minute of real playing time after Gordon had spurned a gilt-edged opportunity to put us 2-0 at the break, we were back on level terms after a howler of a keeper error that reminded me of Burridge at home to West Ham in September 1990. Frankly, the French riot police ought to have been baton charging Pope and spraying him with tear gas for that one. An action more shameful than the one performed by Holly Blades in the bogs.

And so to Everton. Well, talk about getting the monkey off your back eh? Without an away win in 7 months, we absolutely pulverised them. Thiaw’s two headers were perfect set pieces from brilliant crosses, and the other two goals made me laugh uproariously. Pickford’s usual unprofessional approach to this game saw him drop the kind of rick I’d be ashamed of in the weekly 6-a-side up the West Road, whilst the inexplicable absence of any kind of defence for Woltemade’s delightful finish was redolent of pub football at its worst. Nice though for Elanga to get a proper assist with a measured pass for that one, but we were excellent all over the pitch from first whistle until last.

The Spurs game saw a load of wailing and gnashing of teeth on social media. Unquestionably it was 2 points dropped, and as frustrating as the pair of 2-2 draws with Port Vale at SJP in October 1989 and December 1991, but it has to be recognised that their first was a great header and for the equaliser, it was Thiaw’s unfortunate flick that diverted the ball past Ramsdale, in for the allegedly injured Pope. Bruno finished superbly from Big Nick’s beautiful lay off and the penalty was 100% a spot kick. The defender wrestled Burn for a good 20 seconds or so and never once looked for the ball. Well done VAR, and it’s not often I say that. Well, apart from the 2 we got away with against City I suppose. One thing that did disappoint me was nobody being on hand to finish the rebound after Joelinton had hit the post, but I guess that’s the kind of finish Wissa would be able to provide.

We got to see Wissa on Saturday against Burnley. Two ahead at the break against a team in the relegation zone and facing only 10 men, it should have been a cakewalk. And for 93 minutes it was. After an opening 10 minutes of huffing and puffing, the visitors offered nothing up front, rather like Willock for us. Bruno’s hilarious goal was right in front of me, as were the clear red card and not so obvious penalty. Gordon, who looked much better than of late, put it away well. Livramento was different class, aiding Elanga to be more involved and, of course, Bruno was a class act. Ramsay also looked good, neat and tidy, until the farcical penalty concession. That and one late chance for them gave the scoreline a lopsided look, but a win is a win, and we can go away to Leverkusen in better heart than we would have done a month ago.

A word also about some pubs. John and I enjoyed ourselves in The Town Mouse beforehand, where the Deya Magazine Cover was superb. Afterwards, the Two By Two Snake Eyes in The Bodega was of the usual glorious standard, before a final pair of Almasty Green in The Wobbly Duck. Superb pints. Superb company and we managed it back home in time for Match of the Day. A highly civilised day out. Even the Guinness in the ground was very drinkable.

The Meaning of Life

42, according to Douglas Adams, which also is the number of Scottish Football League Grounds. Here's a rundown of them all -:

According to The Hitch Hikers Guide to the Galaxy, the meaning of life is 42. As I’ve come to discover when visiting all the SPFL grounds, that is indeed the case. Hence, here are my reflections on all the grounds I’ve been to, in alphabetical order rather than ranking them in order of preference. I must say that now this task is complete, I do intend to be back, to Easter Road and to Falkirk at least. Also, you never know what will happen to 2025/2026’s 42^nd club in their play off with the winners of the Highland v Lowland knockout.

 Current Scottish League Grounds:

Aberdeen, Pittodrie. A ground I really like, so I can’t understand why the Dons keep exploring the idea of moving to a new stadium. Did this one by myself; a televised Sunday 2-2 draw with Dundee United in March 2025. Great game. Unfortunately ScotRail’s signalling system failed in Fife, so I had to stay overnight in Dundee and began the first of my numerous Delay Repay claims.

Airdrieonians (1878) Broadwood & Airdrieonians (2002) the Excelsior Stadium. So, the first visit was the Hibs game mentioned below in May 1997. It’s a dull and unlovely identikit new ground. For my revisit in March 2022, I was accompanied by Tom Devlin to a 1-1 draw with Cove Rangers. Quite a nice new ground actually, which bizarrely had an ice cream van in one corner.

Alloa Athletic, Recreation Ground. My previous attempt at getting here was thwarted by a waterlogged 4G pitch, but this trip in March 2022 with Canadian Dave went off alright, despite the fact it threw it down all day. They lost 2-0 to Ayr United, but it was a good day out.

Annan Athletic, Galabank. The late, unlamented David Caisley took the car to this one. A properly rancid 1-0 win over Berwick Rangers in March 2016, which had a crowd so quiet you could actually hear the stream trickling behind the main stand. There’s nothing in Annan town either.

Arbroath, Gayfield. Now this is a proper ground. Because of the proximity to the sea and potential for climactic interference, me and Big Gary went to see them lose 3-0 to Annan in a League Cup tie in July 2024. Had a good drink and met Neil Doncaster on the way in. Superb pie as well.

Ayr United, Somerset Park. August 2023. A 2-2 draw with Hamilton Accies. Impressive levels of swearing throughout and another ground with an ice cream van. Somerset Park is a must visit for connoisseurs of bad language.

Celtic, Parkhead. St Valentine’s Day 2004 on a freebie in the posh seats with Kevin McCormick from University. They beat Dundee United 2-1. Very impressive ground, but with little atmosphere where we were.

Clyde, Broadwood Stadium (though now playing at New Douglas Park). A strange one this. I didn’t see Clyde play. I was actually at the Scottish Premier relegation play off between Airdrie and Hibs, that Hibs won 4-2 in Darren Jackson’s last game in May 1997. Went with Mick Hydes and the late, great Les Dodds.

Cove Rangers, Balmoral Stadium. A solo trip to Aberdeen in April 2025 and a 2-2 draw with Kelty Hearts. I’d heard nothing but criticism of this place, but it served its purpose, despite being located in a Retail Park. Nice pie as well. First time I noticed how those in the North of Scotland swear far less than those from the West.

Dumbarton, Dumbarton Stadium. A fabulous location under the imposing Rock, even if the single stand points away from it. Saw a mightily lucky Falkirk, with a huge, fractious support, claim a last minute draw with Ben, as well as Deek and the rest of the Bairns’ venerable punk rock crew, in November 2019.

Dundee, Dens Park. Solo Sunday trip in July 2023 to see a 2-0 league cup win over Inverness. Pretty poor game and an even worse, ramshackle ground.

Dundee United, Tannadice. August 2024 solo trip for a 1-0 league cup victory over St Mirren. Another sunny Sunday in Dundee and a far better ground than the once across the road. Atmospheric and well designed. I liked this place quite a lot.

Dunfermline Athletic, East End Park. January 2013 and a day trip to the Fife derby with the Hudson Brothers, Andy and Mick, that saw The Pars overcome Raith 2-1. It was a great old fashioned ground in a very picturesque part of the Kingdom. Got back to see the second half of Dunston v West Auckland as well, which was a bonus.

East Fife, New Bayview. March 2024 and a solo trip to Leven. With great foresight, I did this a month before the train line from Waverley opened, so I had to take a slow bus to and from the place. Final score in the dull, one sided ground was 3-2 to the home side over Dumbarton. Nice part of the world (sociologically speaking), but the second most boring ground of the whole 42 it must be said. Only Meadowbank is worse.

East Kilbride, K-Park. Solo overnight trip in July 2025, to see the home side lose 6-2 to Inverness Caledonian Thistle. The ground is a functional 4G cage but located in a scenic country park. Loads of English groundhoppers recompleting their 42, though I didn’t allow that to spoil my fun.

Edinburgh City, Ainslie Park (2018) & Meadowbank (2023). The first ground is discussed below, as it is now where Spartans play. Meadowbank is truly awful. A long, flat covered stand and nothing else to speak of. Big Gary accompanied me to see Falkirk, with their host of old punk rocker fans (including Wee Jim, RIP) win 2-1. A mile down the road, Hibs were destroying Aberdeen 6-0, and I heard the cheers for every goal.

Elgin City, Borough Briggs. Oh this is a special ground. Absolutely tanking it down on a Tuesday night in March 2025 as I did the first of my scheduled stopovers. The home side lost 2-0 to The Spartans, but it was a glorious experience in the driving rain. Somewhere I would definitely go back to. I might even retire to Elgin, you never know.

Falkirk, Falkirk Stadium. Accompanied by a viciously hungover Andy Hudson, we did a day trip to a 4-3 home win over Airdrie in January 2013. The first time I’d visited Falkirk, but I’ve subsequently been back several times. It’s a really good new ground; a proper stadium in fact.

Forfar Athletic, Station Park. Solo trip in November 2024 for a 3-3 Scottish Cup game with Stirling Albion, which the home side won on penalties after I’d had to leave for the bus. Station Park is an excellent ground. Definitely in my top 5, because of the size and different styles of each end. Lovely bridies as well. Shame there’s no station, thanks to Lord Beeching.

Greenock Morton, Cappielow. A wonderful, ramshackle old dump with incredible floodlights. I did this one with David Stoker and Joris van de Wien in January 2013 for 1-1 draw with the Paisley Bastards (St Mirren). Weather was filthy, but a proper day out at the fitba.

Hamilton Academical, New Douglas Park (though now playing at Broadwood). I didn’t see a Hamilton home game, but the 2021 Scottish Junior final between Auchinleck Talbot and Girvan, with David Stoker. I can’t see Hamilton play there now, as they’re using Broadwood, where Clyde used to play.

Heart of Midlothian, Swinecastle. A squalid hole full of people who dress like bus drivers. The very worst Scottish ground. First visit August 1995 for a Newcastle pre-season friendly, won with a Peter Beardsley goal.

Hibernian, Easter Road. The finest ground in Scotland and one I love almost as much as Valley Parade. I remember seeing one of the worst games of football ever; a 1-1 draw with Raith Rovers in January 1988, accompanied by Mick Hydes and the late, great Les Dodds (RIP). A ground I will always return to.

Inverness Caledonian Thistle, Caledonian Thistle Stadium. Another solo, overnight stay for a 2-0 win over Elgin City in the League Cup. A long walk to the ground and a decent game, followed by a football special back to the town centre. Inverness is a lovely spot and probably well worth visiting again. To see Clachnacuddin.

Kelty Hearts, New Central Park. Me and Big Gary did this one in January 2024; a tepid 1-1 draw with Annan, who had a collection of consciously whacky, predominantly English away fans. Not a bad little ground in a nasty little town, but I wouldn’t be rushing back here.

Kilmarnock, Rugby Park. Having already done Auchinleck Talbot v Hearts in the Scottish Cup in January 2022, Kenny Yancouskie did the driving up to this one. I liked Rugby Park a lot. The main stand is solid, venerable and trustworthy. The pie was great and Killie deservedly beat Dundee United 2-1 in the Scottish Cup.

Livingston, Almondvale. One trip to the former Ferranti’s new home in July 1999, to see Newcastle lose appallingly 2-0 in a pre-season friendly. It was Lionel Perez’s first and only game for the Toon and he got dog’s abuse all game, because of his previous employers.

Montrose, Links Park. I found Montrose to be a charming, old-fashioned seaside town, but Links Park is disappointingly dull and reminded me very much of Cove Rangers, who were the visitors and 2-0 winners this day. Did this one solo in October 2024.

Motherwell, Fir Park. I love this old place. The Main Stand reminded me a bit of Rugby Park, but it is the skyscraper of an away end that really catches your eye. Not that it was very full for this one in September 2021, as The Steelmen overcame Ross County 2-1. Did this alone the day before St Mirren v Aberdeen with Mick Hydes.

Partick Thistle, Firhill. Up to see Teenage Fanclub on the Sunday night, I came up early for a 1-1 draw with Ross County. A seemingly sterile game enlivened by the worst Tourette’s sufferer in Maryhill screaming invective at the referee all game, after the award of a dubious early penalty to the away side. At one point his son attempted to quieten the old bloke down, who indignantly replied “I will have my say.” A great afternoon and a great gig the night after.

Peterhead, Balmoor. Solo overnight trip as a birthday present to myself in August 2025. A rip-roaring 4-2 home win over Aberdeen B in the Scottish Challenge Cup group stages, in front of 584 crazed ultras (not really). A decent ground and a nice welcome. I liked it here, but it was one hell of a trek.

Queen of the South, Palmerston Park. What a day this was on the away terrace, watching Berwick Rangers fall to a 2-0 loss along with Des Kennedy, Graham and Phil Bull in March 1997. We had a wonderful Gentlemen’s Day Out, that included the relentless barracking of QoS player / manager Tommy Bryce (“baldy cheat”), struggling to find a pizza restaurant (“championi amigo”) and seeing a father explain the concept of flavoured condoms in a pub toilet to his 7 year old son. We also looked up Tommy Bryce’s number in the phone book and called him from a pub. He wasn’t best pleased.

Queen's Park, Hampden Park & Lesser Hampden. Having been to Hampden several times to see Hibs lose Cup finals, I finally made it to a Queen’s Park home game in February 2020. I took my place in a massed throng of 470 punters who saw the home side easily brush Cowdenbeath aside, 2-0. I gained quite an affection for the Spiders’ support that day, while the visitors from Fife seemed brutish in comparison. Similar feelings when I recompleted the 42 with Queen’s Park 2 Raith Rovers 1 at the compact but pleasant Lesser Hampden that is definitely more than merely functional.

Raith Rovers, Starks Park. Holidaying in Fife in August 1995, I seized the opportunity to watch Raith’s first ever European tie, in the old UEFA Cup, against the Faroese side Gøtu Ítróttarfelag. I’d assumed I could just pay at the turnstile, but no tickets were available on the day. Having explained my situation to a club steward, he gave me an away complimentary in the lovely, curved main stand, from which I saw the home side win 4-0. A good memory.

Rangers, Ibronx. You’ll be relieved to know I didn’t go to see the home side play. Instead, I watched Falkirk lose 3-1 to the Bus Drivers in a Scottish Cup semi-final in April 1998, accompanied by nice Jambo Nick Cannon, who did the driving.

Ross County, Victoria Park. Absolutely the worst of all my trips. This was a solo, overnight one to Dingwall in May 2025 for the SPFL relegation play-off final second leg. A combination of incompetent LNER trains, sluggish ScotRail ones and my hotel cancelling my booking at the last minute, transferring me to a dosshouse above a pool club and drug den, meant I arrived frazzled just before kick-off. Next bit of news was that my seat number didn’t exist. Stress or what? I’m glad Livingston won 4-2 (5-3 on aggregate) and that I wasn’t murdered in my bed. Apart from that, nothing positive to say. The ground’s all right I will admit.

St Johnstone, MacDiarmid Park. As a Hibs fan, it was brilliant to get to see the Cabbage in the flesh in January 2025 up in Perth. Of course, my legendary inability to read maps meant I got completely and utterly lost trying to find the ground, necessitating a taxi from the middle of nowhere to the ground, which was also in the middle of nowhere. A pretty poor game, but Dwight Gayle rescued a point, and I got a bus back to the station, so all was good in the end. Longest queue I’ve ever see at a pie stall at any ground ever, meaning I went hungry.

St Mirren, St Mirren Community Stadium. Courtesy of Matty Longstaff, who was an unused substitute for The Dons during his ill-starred loan spell at Pittodrie, I blagged a couple of freebies for this one and was able to take Paisley resident Mick Hydes in September 2021. This is a very good new ground, and the atmosphere was rocking as The Buddies came out on top by a margin of 3-2. A quality game and a great weekend, which had begun the day before at Motherwell v Ross County.

Stenhousemuir, Ochilview. My first trip was in March 2018, sat in seat C86 no less, accompanied by Deek Steel. The Warriors have a lovely old ground on 2 sides and nothing else. They lost this one 2-0 to Elgin City, going down without a struggle. A pretty lame effort considering how much I’d been looking forward to this one.

Spartans, Ainslie Park. Another team I’ve not see play, but I did see Edinburgh City dismantle Elgin City 4-1 on a freezing December day in 2018. The 4G pitch was the only reason the game was on. Modern, two sided, functional. Better than Meadowbank.

Stirling Albion, Forthbank Stadium. A 2-0 win over Strathspey Thistle in a Scottish Cup tie in October 2019 saw me reach the 50% mark as it was my 21^st Scottish ground. Not really a lot to say about the place, which only had one stand open. Yeah, it was OK, but the highlight for this Velvet Underground fan was seeing the adjoining supermarket; Stirling Morrisons.

Stranraer, Stair Park. My 42^nd current SPFL club, but my penultimate tick. A 3-1 home win over Forfar Athletic, in front of a crowd of 463, including 4 visiting fans, who were presumably the semi-mythical Forfar 4, on November 1^st, 2025. Big Gary drove us in his sophisticated new motor, and we enjoyed a scenic old style ground in a public park, as well as a decent pie. Possibly even more isolated than Ross County or Peterhead.

 Former Scottish League Grounds:

The introduction of the play-off between “Club 42” and the winners of the Highland v Lowland League play-off has seen some famous old grounds leave the SPFL. All the ones I’ve been to are now in the Lowland League. I didn’t get to either of the other former members Brechin City or East Stirling (who now groundshare with Stenhousemuir), sadly.

Albion Rovers, Cliftonhill. Pre-season friendly v Partick Thistle, July 2007.  Went with Mick Hydes, who was sponsoring this game. Hence ended up in boardroom before game and in directors’ box during it. Easily the most dilapidated ground I’ve ever been to. Charming in its own way.

Berwick Rangers, Shielfield. Dozens of visits here over the years. First one I really remember was a 2-1 loss to East Fife in October 1991, on the day Scotland played England in the Rugby World Cup. Scotland won and the Berwick fans sang Swing Low Sweet Chariot to wind up the visiting Fifers, who had the last laugh with the football.

Bonnyrigg Rose, New Dundas Park. Drew 1-1 with Peterhead in December 2022. A lovely, rickety ground with the infamous slope. Went with Big Gary and we were on the Black Bottle and Tennents before the game. Lashed down all day.

Cowdenbeath, Central Park. Lost 2-0 to Dumbarton. Went with Mick Hydes, who had just moved there. Got hammered in adjoining nightclub afterwards. A real experience to see the giant safety tyres around the pitch for the stock car racing.

Gretna, Raydale Park. A bit of a cheat this one, as I saw them play Buxton in the Northern Premier League, before they joined the Scottish set up. Really nice ground, if I remember December 1998 that clearly.

Photos are of Alloa (top) and Stranraer (bottom)

Who's That Team We All Abhor?

NUFC over the last while....

I didn’t write this piece immediately after the Brentford game. I couldn’t, because I was too angry about another pathetic, clueless performance on the road to express anything other than inarticulate rage. A week later I’m still furious and we remain two points above the drop zone, but I think I can provide a more measured perspective on events between the last two international breaks than I would have done on Sunday 9^th November. This is the third pause we’ve had so far this season, and each one has been heralded by the outpouring of vastly differing emotions. The break in September came as a relief as the Isak transfer debacle was finally concluded, after we’d unnecessarily thrown away the chance of 9 possible points in the opening games in an atmosphere of utter chaos. The October break was frustrating as we were finally looking like an outfit who had sussed a new style of play, confidently dispatching an admittedly woeful Forest side before everything ground to a competitive halt. The arrival of this November ceasefire has been greeted with unbridled relief as we’ve been so dismal on the road, it beggars belief.

Let me say this now. Eddie Howe is still the right man for the job of Newcastle United manager. There are if, buts and all manner of caveats attached to that statement, not least because our next three league games are the daunting prospect of Man City (H), Everton (A) and Spurs (H), which I’ll come on to later. One of the most blatantly obvious reasons for retaining his services is that, as far I can see, there are no viable, realistic candidates to replace him. Iraola has his advocates, but he hardly did his cause much good with that mauling at Villa Park the other week. Roberto Mancini has been mentioned, but he’s another yesterday man from my perspective. In all honesty, I am still grateful for everything Howe has done for the club since he arrived and you don’t need me to tell you that avoiding the drop in his first season, two CL qualifications and the small matter of a Sunday in Wembley back in March put him head and shoulders above every other manager we’ve had in my lifetime, Keegan and Robson included. But he needs to do better, as do the players, and that crucial improvement needs to happen fast. The fixture list isn’t promising, but everyone plays each other twice a season and we just have to get on with it.

Ideally, Howe does his best work where he has previously proved himself to be an outstanding coach. On the training ground. Developing tactics and drilling them into the players. Anthony Gordon suspended for the Carabao Cup final? No problem. Here’s Plan B; we’ll win the game in midfield rather than down the flanks. Guess what? We did. Recently there hasn’t been a Plan A, other than kick offs being deliberately launched into touch by the opposition corner flag, like a nostalgic reboot of John Beck’s tactics at Cambridge United, circa 1991. What we need, and this is where the injuries to Pope, Gordon, Livramento and Hall should benefit us during this international break, is some solid hard work on defending set pieces and a clear idea what to do when we go forward. Yes, there are players away on international duty and well done to Thiaw, the one uniformly bright spot in a terrible league season so far, for his call up by Germany, but Howe and Jones can, should and hopefully will do what is necessary to make us look competent and competitive again, before the season really goes over the cliff edge.

So, how did we get to this bizarre situation where we sit 14^th in the Premier League and 6^th in a 36-team Champions League, with an eminently winnable League Cup quarter final tie at home? To sum up, we’ve been shit away and done the necessary at home, without ever really hitting top gear. Before the Brighton game that kicked off this recent set of fixtures, we appointed someone called Ross Wilson as Sporting Director, whatever that means. There are so many walk-on, walk-off appointments to a series of meaningless job titles in the club that I lose track and pine for the days when Russell Cushing and Tony Toward just used to divvy the admin work up between them. To prove the point Peter Silverstone, the club’s Chief Commercial Officer has just slung his hook, after tying up a major Saudi sponsorship deal with Visa. I’m a Barclays customer and don’t particularly feel comfortable that they’re throwing money at NUFC and not giving me better interest on my ISAs, but there you go. Rather more seriously, the promise of freebie corporates to high-end clients in Saudi Arabia rather undercuts the valiant work NUST (and fair play to them for getting David Stonehouse on the board) are attempting regarding ticketing transparency. Then again the anodyne response from Hoppy, the Man in the Suit, to their requests for open dialogue probably tells you all you need to know about the PIF and their underlings’ attitude to Mags who stump up their hard-earned cash, not just to buy tickets, but to throw cash away on the Membership tombola farce, ostensibly to give them a chance to buy tickets. It’s all about the money, honey. There’s a new training ground and revamped SJP to fund you know. Possibly. Trust the process, as the Dubai chronophiles say.

As for Brighton, the best you can say is that The Amex is becoming the new Dell and Danny Welbeck a reincarnation of Le Tissier, without the swivel-eyed chemtrails conspiracy lunacy. The famed midfield shattered from long haul international fortnight flights, all 4 wingers woefully out of form, second choice ageing, clumsy full backs and a hitherto impressive centre back pairing unaccountably baffled by straight balls into the box. We all wanted to call it a blip, rather than the new normal. Ah, but then came Benfica. What a second half that was, eh?  Not only that, but Mourinho showed a great deal of class in his remarks about the club. I’ve always had a soft spot for the curmudgeonly contrarian, not that I’d ever want him in the home dug out.

Admittedly, their right winger caused us a few problems early on and we might have taken the lead slightly against the run of play, but once Gordon got us ahead, it was a relatively straightforward evening. Indeed, it was great to see 75% of our wingers putting in quality shifts. Sadly, I didn’t get a ticket, but I met with John, over from Ireland, and Ben who had in The Town Mouse before kick-off and when they walked to the ground, I made my way to The Bodega, listening to the stirring sound of the crowd, feeling the anticipation in the air and cursing the ballot system. It’s 16 years since I threw in my season tickets, but there are times when you wish you could have been a part of it, and this was one of them. Mind, I put in a disciplined performance, restricting myself to a pint per half. Indeed, the only blight on the night was the last 38 not showing up and having to get an Uber home.

On the day of the Fulham game, I got to see Newcastle win (Independent), draw (University) and lose (East End), but I didn’t see United. Instead, I got back from some Alliance games just in time to watch the last bit of the day’s unfolding action on Sky Sports. I punched the air when Bruno got the winner, then within the hour saw detailed highlights on line. Despite the narrowness of the scoreline and lateness of the goal, this was a well-deserved win, spoiled only by poor finishing. Frankly, we should have been 3-0 up at the break, but no matter, we took the points, had won two in a row and moved on to the Spurs League Cup game in a better frame of mind. That said, I was a trifle concerned that under Frank, Tottenham wouldn’t be the soft-centred cowards they’ve often been in these parts. I needn’t have worried as they barely laid a glove on us. Tonali won the game in midfield singlehandedly and a pair of undefended headers from unchallenged crosses saw us safely through to the last 8, where we’ve been paired with Fulham at home. At this stage of the competition, you couldn’t ask for much more than that.

And then we went to West Ham. Took the lead in 4 minutes and completely disintegrated. Some social media hot heads were calling this the worst game in Howe’s reign. Obviously they didn’t see the FA Cup games against Cambridge or Sheffield Wednesday. I suppose what they really meant was that it was the worst game they’d seen since we last lost, because according to Twitter, every game we lose, regardless of circumstances, is the worst game under Eddie Howe. That, of course, is nonsense, though this was a dreadful performance. In the search for scapegoats, Pope was the one in the cyber stocks for this result, though how on earth you contend with ill-fortune like Botman’s own goal is beyond me. Although I have to say I am at a loss to explain why we’re so bad away from home and what we can do about it. Perhaps we could bring Tommy Gibb out of retirement as he always preferred to play away rather be tormented at SJP by our own “supporters.” I suppose this proves that supporting the team has always involved the right to moan, abuse and slag off anyone in black and white, regardless of their merit.

I’m a good dad me you know. John managed to get me a Bilbao ticket on the Monday before and I gave it to Ben. Of course I paid. Having taken Ben to Bilbao and enjoyed a tour of the original San Mames, I thought this was the correct thing to do. After all, I was at the 1994 UEFA Cup game when the bonds of friendship were forged between the two clubs. From mid-afternoon, even from in the house, I could feel the atmosphere build. Fireworks helped I suppose. Photos and videos on social media made me nostalgic and almost tearful. I watched the game with Big Gary and a squad of his pals in The Sun. Was Dan Burn’s banana header even better than his Cup final goal. I think it was, but obviously not so important. Joelinton’s was probably even easier than Woltemade’s against Spurs. Job done. I know Bilbao were weak and understrength, but we did a very professional job, proving conclusively, whatever Denver and his Fifth Columnist pals may contend, that corporate ownership of football clubs rather than the tired, outmoded socio formula in the way forward. Money makes meritocrats.

Money also makes flags, and I was sickened to see the tiny, unrepresentative NUFC Against Sportswashing sect having a go at Wor Flags for not designing anti Saudi banners. Aside from the fact NUFC Against Sportswashing are Islamophobic in their abuse towards PIF and anti-Semitic in their criticism of the Rubens, why don’t they put their money where their mouth is and pay for a banner that displays their message? The real reason is that they’d have to find someone to hold it aloft inside SJP and since none of them attend games, the idea falls at the first hurdle.

Finally, we come back to Brentford and our second successive stuffing there. Once again, Newcastle United are in the business of ruining weekends, as we’ve been doing since 1892. I must admit I’d expected Lyle Lovatt to be a joke of a boss when he got the gig, but he’s proved me wrong. They’re a big, cumbersome, troubling team and they cuffed us aside after the break. Three days on from the glory of Bilbao, Dan Burn was a calamity until he was put out of his misery. I don’t think the one he conceded was a penalty, but I did think the one that was overturned should have been given. Pope was flapping at crosses like a punch drunk, blindfolded Brian London tribute act in a boxing booth at The Hoppings. Ramsdale is a more than adequate deputy, but Pope, these last 2 games aside, has been good this season. I’m glad I don’t have to make a decision as to who starts the next game.

This brings us up to date. Manchester City at home next and still some fans seem more concerned with the order of pre-match songs at SJP than events on the pitch. Obviously, if we get that right, and everything will fall into place. Right?

 

Journey's End

Queen's Park 2 Raith Rovers 1; my Scottish groundhopping adventures are done...

And so, a day I’d often thought about but had never really expected to happen finally came to pass. On Saturday 8^th November 2025, I completed my series of visits to every single SPFL ground, with a revisit of the oldest Scottish club Queen’s Park, at their restored Lesser Hampden home, in the shadow of the famous National Stadium, for the visit of Raith Rovers, in the company of Ben. Obviously, the trip had an element of doubt in the week leading up to it. A landslip between Oxenholme and Penrith on the Monday previous had caused all manner of disruption on the West Coast main line, so I’d rebooked our trip an hour earlier, as I like to err on the side of caution. In the event, everything ran incredibly smoothly, which meant we had an hour to spare in Carlisle, using it sensibly by getting a substantial bacon roll from a local café. Nice it was too.

The stiflingly hot Avanti train to Glasgow Central gave us a hassle-free ride, as did the connection on the Neilston circle to Mount Florida, which meant we arrived slightly before the turnstiles opened at 2pm. I’ve been to the National Stadium on several occasions, generally to see Hibs lose, but I did catch a Queen’s Park home game against Cowdenbeath in February 2020. With only 470 inside the ground, the vast swathes on empty seats and echoes of the players shouts made it an eerie experience, akin to watching Newcastle Reserves at SJP or Anderlecht Futures against RWDM at the King Baudoin Stadium in Brussels last year. Lesser Hampden, despite being open at both ends, as seems to be the wont in many if not all recently built or redeveloped Scottish grounds, is a far more sensible venue for Queen’s Park, even after the Spiders eschewed their 150-year tradition of amateurism and embraced the professional game. Indeed, there were 876 watching today, in a supposed capacity of 977.

We entered from the home turnstile and took the very last two seats in the home end, that were only across the aisle from where the raucous, rowdy and wildly profane away fans were housed in the final two blocks, enjoying a quality steak pie and Bovril lunch. The seats had plenty of leg room and afforded a perfect view of proceedings. There is another small stand opposite, but it appears to be a space reserved for dignitaries. Shame, because if we’d sat on that side, we wouldn’t have been blinded by the low sun setting in the first half. Although that misfortune wasn’t of any particular problem as the football on display was dire in the most part. Raith were the more direct, but failed to carve out any presentable opportunities, while Queen’s Park played a cautious possession-based game, where any risky attacking ball was ignored, in favour of retaining possession at all costs.

The best player on the pitch was Queen’s attacker Josh Fowler, and his two goals won the game for the home side. His first was courtesy of woeful miscommunication in the Raith defence, when he collected a loose ball and rammed home a low 20-yard finish after 14 minutes.  It was a quality finish, but the lead wasn’t to last long as Darragh O'Connor’s right footed shot from the left side of the six-yard box into the top left corner brought the teams level on 22 minutes. This is how it stayed until the break, which cheered me considerably as it meant I’d done every ground and not seen a single goalless draw.

After the break, Raith tried to up the ante and were twice denied by miraculous saves from the home keeper, Calum Ferrie, who is English, interestingly enough. He made his name with a penalty save at Ibrox last year, when Queen’s Park beat Glasgow’s newest club Sevco in the Scottish Cup. Mind he also let in 5 at Partick Thistle the week before today, so it isn’t all plain sailing. However, his important intervention gave the Spiders renewed hope and they grabbed all 3 points with another goal from Fowler on 78 minutes. He received the ball wide right in the box, checked, evaded a challenge and curled a delicious effort in off the post. There would be no dancing in the streets of Raith that night. The result moved Queen’s Park out of the relegation play-off place and up to 8^th, while the visitors stay 6^th.

If I were asked which parts of Scotland are the best (or worst) at swearing, I’d undoubtedly call a dead heat between Ayrshire and Lanarkshire, but the Kingdom of Fife run the two former coalmining heartlands in the west very close. Indeed, one tall young chap, sat directly to my right, spent all afternoon issuing semi-coherent volleys of the language of the snooker hall in the direction of officials, players and other spectators for the entire contest. The fact Queen’s Park won 2-1 didn’t lighten his mood, though I suspect if Raith had replicated their famous win over Celtic in the 1994 League Cup final in the adjoining arena, he still wouldn’t have been satisfied.

As we made our way through grumbling Fifers to Mount Florida, I realised just how thirsty I was, after the pie and Bovril, so it was just as well Ben and I were heading only 2 stops to Queen’s Park (ironically), to visit a pub we’d both had our eyes on for ages; Koelschip Yard, which is an absolute craft ale paradise. Without overstating things, the Kriek on tap was the finest I’ve tasted. We had a few scoops, met the biggest (and friendliest) dog in the world and I bought a £50 carry-out from the brilliant Wee Beer Shop opposite. An off licence so good and so friendly, I messaged the owner Niall on Insta the next day and got put on the mailing list. I tell you that’s where I’m getting my Christmas Cantillon and Kernel supplies from this year. Just a shame it’s the other side of the city from where we’re going to see My Bloody Valentine in a couple of weeks.

 As we were travelling back via Edinburgh, we got an Uber to Queen’s Street, where we saw the drunkest man in the world trying to buy 2 coffees on his card from Greggs, before running slap bang into Stephen from The Pastels, on his way home from a day’s work at Monorail no doubt. We shook hands and agreed to try and meet up at My Bloody Valentine, before we were away. On that train, I got talking to Keith a Queen of the South fan who’d been to the musical Hamilton with his missus that afternoon (though I’d presume he'd prefer to have been at Hamilton Accies instead) and had remarkably been at Spennymoor 0 Barrow 2 in the FA Cup the week before. After that, the timing of the train from Waverley was too tight to allow us a pint in Brew Dog, so we took our place with many well-served Scottish rugby fans who’d been to Murrayfield for the New Zealand game. We got back to Central on time, had an unnecessary last one in The Wobbly Duck and caught the last bus home. A splendid, splendid day and a fitting way to end my Scottish odyssey.

I must admit to having a feeling of sadness accompanying the sense of accomplishment. No longer will I look to fixtures long in the future, check travel logistics and anticipate the journey. I’ve never believed it is better to travel than arrive, but my final destination has been reached with a heavy heart. What is my next bucket list challenge? Let me think on that one…

 

 

Stairing with the Rude Boys

Stranraer 3 Forfar Athletic 1; Saturday 1st November 2025. Photos by Wallsend National Party PLC

While my team Percy Main Amateurs were losing 4-2 on penalties after a 2-2 draw in 90 minutes at home to Hazlerigg Victory in a Northumberland FA Senior Benevolent Bowl Round 1 tie, and my pal Big Gary’s side Newcastle Benfield were going down to a controversial 1-0 loss away to Easington Colliery in the Northern League Division 1, me and him were speeding the 163 miles from leafy NE7 to the furthest western outpost of Scottish League football. Our destination was Stranraer’s Stair Park for the tussle with Forfar Athletic, that constituted my 42^nd SPFL tick, though I still need to revisit Queen’s Park as they now play at Lesser Hampden, adjoining their former home at the Scottish National Stadium, to complete the set.

This was actually my third attempt at visiting Stranraer. Firstly, back in February, Gary had to bail when a pal was visiting from Birkenhead and then at the start of October, a work trip for him to either the Shetlands or the Orkneys (I forget which) put paid to that plan. I did look at doing it by public transport (I’m a non-driver you see), but the journey would have been an ordeal, Leaving Newcastle at 08.06, taking two trains and a bus in either direction, before getting back at 23.34. Despite my Over 60s Railcard, this was just too much to cope with. Thus, the first day of November was set in stone and we left mine at 10.00, had a quick Costa stop on the outskirts of Dumfries, which is when I discovered I’d forgotten my phone and so couldn’t get any pictures of the day out and  eventually pulled into the free car park that was the derelict remains of the old Sealink ferry terminal loading bay, at 1.30 pm.

Back in the day, I’d journeyed the A74 numerous times, as I attended the University of Ulster in County Derry between 1983 and 1986, often travelling on the Stranraer to Larne ferry. Now that was a journey and a half. The only way to do it, courtesy of Lord Beeching tearing up the Dumfries to Stranraer train line, was to leave Newcastle at 02.52 and travel via Edinburgh and Glasgow, changing stations, then take the Ferry to Larne, train to Belfast, changing stations, onwards to Coleraine, arriving in Portrush at 18.13. Mind I was a lot younger in those days. The last time I’d done that trek was in Summer 1988, by National Express in point of fact, which was before the A74 upgrade that bypassed Dumfries, Newton Stewart, Creetown, Gatehouse of Fleet and Castle Kennedy. While it’s still a hell of a trek, it no longer feels like Chairman Mao’s long march. It’s quite a scenic trip along the Galloway coast and you do get to see Castle Cary Park, the home of Creetown FC, who were inactive the day we passed, being the spare side in the 11-team South of Scotland League.

Stranraer, from what I’d remembered, is hideous. Partly that was as a result of the PTSD engendered spending 9 hours in the freezing Ferry Terminal on Sunday 15^th January 1984, when our ferry was cancelled. That said, I did enjoy an idyllic family holiday in the nearby small resort of Portpatrick in 1974. No chance of visiting that old haunt today of course. No chance of a sociological saunter through Stranraer either. Instead, Gary and I left the car, surrounded by derelict caravans which may have been Stranraer’s take on Airbnb and struck back up the road to Stair Park, which is in a public park, also called Stair Park.

Stranraer were formed in 1870 and are Scotland’s third oldest club, and their history is proudly displayed on some interesting posters inside the ground, but they don’t make the most of any commercial opportunities that may come their way. Team sheets were given out free in the stiflingly hot clubhouse, but there were no programmes and the club shop was closed. I inquired and was given a vague promise that “someone would be along later” to open it up, but I just let that slide. We entered the ground (£15 adults and £10 for us codgers; cash only), where I bought a decent steak (brisket) pie, before we took our place at pitch side, from where we saw the home side prevail in a mainly comfortable 3-1 win.

Stair Park is a decent little ground. It reminded of Montrose or Cove Rangers. One end is completely open, but the other has a reasonable covered shed with about 8 steps of terracing. Each side has a stand that covers halfway, with other bits of terracing. We took in the first half from the main stand side and the second from the terracing by the entrance. Views are good from all angles, and we saw all the goals perfectly. Stranraer put lengthy highlights on YouTube and from viewing them the day after, I saw that what I had initially thought was a soft penalty for the home side was absolutely nailed on. They scored it to lead at the break. The football was honest, if a little too much of the lump it and hope variety, but the game improved greatly after the break.

This was partly because Forfar equalised. What those around us claimed was an offside goal, was a mile on according to the highlights, if against the run of play. It resulted in an absolute torrent of oath-edged personal invective directed at the assistant who failed to raise his flag. I felt sorry for this individual who suffered both male pattern baldness and a bizarre Mallen streak down the back of his head. While the supporters kept up a barrage of foul-mouthed abuse for the rest of the contest, the players forgot about the inaction of the tonsorially challenged one and set about winning the game, with a brace of good late goals. Firstly, Ryan Edgar powered in a great header and then substitutes, the magnificently named, Dominic Plank and Deryn Lang combined to win the game for the home side. All we were missing was an entry from the bench of the unfortunately-monikered Beejay Coll, to give us all a happy ending.

Being so far west, the game finished in the gloaming not darkness and we got away at 5.10. With no stops, Gary was dropping me off, to be reunited with my phone, by 7.45 after a great day out. Full speed ahead to Queen’s Park next Saturday then.

Words Being Sung

So, this is what I've listened to & read over the last couple of months -:

MUSIC:

 

Regarding my recent musical consumption, I’ve seen a couple of absolutely outstanding gigs. The one that stands out above all others was Edwyn Collins, on his farewell tour, at a packed Boiler Shop. Still hampered by the effects of a devastating stroke 20 years ago, Collins is approaching 70 and, perhaps understandably, thinks it is time to slow down. Backed by an incredible set of musicians, he arrived on stage slightly late, to a backing of The Mekons’ Where Were You? An apt choice as perhaps only Orange Juice’s Blue Boy can come close to it in terms of being the finest UK post 1977 7” single. Of course, the evening ended with Blue Boy, and it brought a hugely supportive house down, but before then there were many other highlights from his whole career. Strangely no Poor Old Soul or Losing Sleep but made up for by the best version of Don’t Shilly Shally I’ve ever heard. As for Falling and Laughing; ah man, it’s so heart-wrenching to see such a stellar figure in Scottish Pop Music calling it a day. I do desperately hope he continues to make music as, for 45 years, he has been a massive influence on me.

The next night, Ben and I were back at The Boiler Shop for The Wedding Present’s 40^th anniversary tour. They’ve got a new mini album scheduled for December, Maxi, which is a revisiting of the driving theme of 1996’s Mini. I’m looking forward to it immensely. There’s a taster single of one of the tracks, Hot Wheels, out now and it is certainly rockier and dirtier than the band has been for years, partly due to the influence of new guitarist Rachel Ward, who seems to have reignited the riffing beast within Gedge’s soul, particularly on the second number of the evening in front of an impressive turnout,  I’m Not Going to Fall in Love with You. Ever arcane, Gedge had designed a set list that covered all 40 years of the band’s existence in reverse chronology. Unfortunately, the choice of numbers for the early part of the set, bar the aforementioned I’m Not Going to Fall in Love with You didn’t really inspire, partly on account of the songs chosen, until 1995’s Kansas, which was the seventh song of the 20 they played. However, from that moment on, they absolutely caught fire, and it was an electric evening, hearing all the old favourites. As ever Corduroy, Dalliance, Kennedy and My Favourite Dress were received rapturously, but for me Click Click and Flying Saucer were probably the two best numbers. Another great night, but gigs on successive days had my lower back in bits.

The other live performance I attended was the month before and very different in both venue and scope. The latest Shunyata Improvisation Group public outing was in Earthlings Vegan Café, next door to the Gurdwara, just off the West Road and in sight of SJP. This is a part of the city I’ve probably not visited in 35 years, despite travelling parallel up either Westgate Hill or Barrack Road on countless occasions. I found it with ease, enjoyed a delicious bowl of spicy rice and beans, then settled down in the stifling downstairs back room, to enjoy the performance. Perhaps it was because of the heat that approximately 25% of the audience of 12 nodded off briefly, though I remained fully attentive. This time, the Shunyata core trio were augmented by electronic manipulator Maria Sappho. It resulted in probably the most abrasive sounds I’ve ever heard from SIG. I enjoyed the confrontational Buddhism, despite being forced to listen to part of the event from outside the door, as I was stricken by a bout of severe stomach cramps. Nothing to do with food, I hasten to add.

Once John Garner lay down his violin and took up the shakuhachi, we found ourselves on more familiar, introspective ground. A compelling meditative section involved John on bells, Katie using the frame of her zither for percussive effects and Martin doing the same with his guitar, was the key part of the performance. Strangely, Maria seemed to opt out of the collaboration from this moment onwards.  The event was definitely a success for SIG, though I’m not sure Maria got much out of it. Also, following on from Interventions and Detours, John Garner and Martin Donkin have just released another splendid EP of guitar and shakuhachi improvised instrumentals, The Moon in the Stream. Like its predecessor, this shortish set concentrates on powerful yet meditative pieces, showing the almost telepathic interplay between the two performers and their instruments. SIG and their related projects, continue to inspire and beguile me in a way few other artists are able to.

Staying with the No Audience Underground, I got myself a couple of CDs from Wormhole World recently. The one I like best is the dazzlingly eclectic Carnival of the Sea by the ever-wonderful Emma Reed, under the name of Pettaluck. Having seen Emma at a TQ gig at The Globe last year, I immediately took to her quirky experimental music, that combines an array of styles from synth pop to free jazz to ambient soundscapes. This release is her finest yet, of those I know about that is, and I’d strongly advise you to search her work out on Bandcamp. The other release I obtained was Jude Montague and Dave Clarkson’s worthy project to celebrate their ancestors, Grandads. Unfortunately, it did absolutely nothing for me and I would be happy to give this away to anyone who would like it. Sorry, but it just isn’t my thing. For fans of acoustic singer songwriting in a decidedly English, nostalgic way.

TSPTR is a clothing brand, who seem to specialise in 1960s Peanuts sweats and tees. They’ve also just branched out into music, releasing bespoke, limited-edition compilation cassettes. When I saw Sound Library Volume 1 included a track by Alex Rex, I immediately bought a copy. The Drummer does The Problem with Suicide, which I’ve heard live before and probably was recorded during sessions for The National Trust album. It’s a great, mournful ballad and sits well on a thoroughly enjoyable tape which also features contributions by Bonnie “Prince” Billy, Alexis Taylor and Bobby Lee, whose contribution Slouchin’ Towards Rotherham is the best thing on here. A nice little purchase I must say.

Like Edwyn Collins, I’ve followed Davy Henderson’s career since about 1981. This is sometimes difficult as the notoriously obtuse frontman of the Fire Engine, Win, Nectarine Number 9 and latterly the Sexual Objects, has a somewhat unconventional two-fingers to The Man approach to his career and the music biz in general. That is why I’m delighted the best numbers of the Sexual Objects have been captured on the retrospective Orangutang CD. Including their finest moments, such as the sublime Here Come the Rubber Cops and the brutally sardonic Merrie England, it is one of my favourite releases of the year, combining the artful T-Rex stylings of guitar crunch and a kind of laid-back Loaded vibe that is enormously satisfying. This is truly an essential purchase.

Another band from a long time ago who had an unconventional approach to the music business were Principal Edward’s Magic Theatre, a 14-piece hippy aggregation of Exeter University potheads, who were the first act signed to John Peel’s infamous Dandelion label. Described by John Walters as “the most pretentious act I’ve ever come across,” they released a couple of acid-drenched prog folk albums then grew up and got jobs. I’m delighted to have found their first album Soundtrack on Discogs for a song. Ideal stuff if you’re a fan of the Incredible String Band or, even more obscure and counter cultural, Dr Strangely Strange. Far out man.

Most recently, I took a punt on one of those CDs that are advertised on Facebook as free if you pay the postage. This one was The DIY Years by Young Knives. I know they’ve been going for the thick end of 20 years, but all I’d ever heard was She’s Attracted to, which reminded me of Bogshed, which is no bad thing. That came out in 2005 I think, but the CD I ordered covered the period 2010-2025 and I have to say I enjoyed it quite a lot. Some of the later stuff reminds me of Robert Wyatt era Soft Machine, but I presume live they’ll be more angular pop funk thud. I mention them live as they’re coming to The Cluny on Friday 21 November. I might go, even if it is my least favourite venue in the town.

 BOOKS:

Of the books I’ve read recently, perhaps the two that stand out the most are the autobiographies of the brothers from 16 Lily Crescent in Jesmond: Rude Kids by Chris Donald and Him Off the Viz by Simon Donald. Like everyone of my age from up here, I adored Viz from when I first came across it, probably in about 1980 or thereabouts. I didn’t know the brothers, even if Simon was my school year and we had a load of friends in common, who get mentioned in the book (Gordon Poad, Stephen Bennett and the tragic Sandy Chadwin). Chris was a few years older and out of my social orbit. That said, we drank in the same pubs and saw the same bands. At these events, I often bought Viz and loved it. I’ve no idea when I stopped buying, though probably more than 35 years ago and only vaguely knew the Donalds had nothing to do with it any longer. Frankly, I’m not sure if it is still published.

Over the years, I got to know Simon to say hello to but wouldn’t even call him an acquaintance to be honest. I’d heard of his book when it came out in 2010, then updated in 2015, but only just read it when I found a copy in the local free library. It isn’t funny and it isn’t particularly well written, unlike Chris’s effort, but it is painfully honest about loss and relations in a pretty dysfunctional family. They had an older autistic brother who died quite young, a wheelchair-bound mother and an oddball penny-pinching dad, but what really got me, especially from Simon’s book, is how the two cartoonist brothers never really got on. Simon seems to have harboured a great deal of resentment about this, while Chris, who makes it clear that Viz was his idea, his project and his property, seems utterly unconcerned with the dynamics of running a business with his sibling as an employee. I’m very glad I read these books, which have an acute sense of Newcastle in the 70s, 80s and 90s running through them, but I’ll just take the cartoons on their own merit again. Very intriguing and a bit sad.

Also from the free library, I picked up Simon Pollock’s I Love Suburbia; a lavishly illustrated photobook dedicated to the ornate houses, art deco picture palaces and crenelated pubs in satellite towns that fringe the M25. It isn’t a sociological or architectural guide, just a celebration of eccentric buildings from the 1920s to 1950s, before brutalism became the go to architectural style for the capital city. A nice coffee table tome to flick through.

The Jesmond Vale free library provided me with two copies of the sober Stalinist periodical North East Labour History. As with all academic writing, it’s a tough read for pleasure, but I did enjoy articles about the Sunderland Rent Strike of 1930 in the first volume (2007) and an interesting take on the gender politics of the events before and after the 1991 Meadowell riots in the second edition (2011). Other interesting topics are hampered for me, a general reader, by the aridity of the prose. The same cannot be said of David Lodge’s implausible yet endearing novel about the futility of National Service, Ginger You’re Barmy which, despite a wholly unbelievable ending, provides an accurate and compelling depiction of the ennui and inertia engendered by two wasted years in a young man’s life.

The final book I’ve read is Tangled Lines editor Mike Head’s 21 Again. It is an affectionate and nostalgic trip back to the late 80s and early 90s, focussing on bands he followed at the time. The focus is mainly on Mega City 4 and Senseless Things, who I don’t think I ever saw and never really heard, but there is lovely bit about Snuff; a band I saw quite often and thoroughly enjoyed, especially their whacky cover version of the Shake n Vac advert, Blankety Blank theme and In Sickness and in Health. A great read and a book I strongly advise seeking out on Amazon.