Tuesday, 26 April 2011

140 Character Assassination

(First published in Percy Main v Shankhouse programme 27/04/2011)

Brevity is the soul of wit, states Polonius in Act II Scene ii of Shakespeare’s Hamlet and this phrase has been taken to heart by Geoff since he took over editorial duties on the programme, limiting me to 1 page of this nonsense each edition. When Andy was putting the thing together, he let me ramble on like Jerry Garcia during the last encore of a Grateful Dead show at the Frisco Winterland in 1971, but I’ve learned the value of keeping my missives short.

Possibly that’s why I’m enjoying using Twitter so much these days; search for me as PercyMainFC at www.twitter.com At first the only followers I had were Geoff, Norman, Laura and Cola, so everyone was either watching or playing in the match when I updated the scores, though now we’ve got plenty of followers from the on-line cyber blogging community who seem so at ease with social networking sites. Almost all Northern League clubs use Twitter to update during the game, but I think it’s only we and Chemfica from the Alliance who have accounts. It’s the future, I’m telling you. Mind Laura suggests I should restrict myself to putting only Percy Main related stuff on there, rather than listing what gigs I’m going to or giving marks out of ten for the various Real Ales I’ve been quality testing. Then again I wouldn’t be the first person involved in football to come to grief because of troublesome tweets, would I? Only this week, Kieran Bowell of Berwick Rangers was sacked for making disparaging remarks about the letter bombs Neil Lennon received.

I think I first became aware of Twitter when Darren Bent engineered his move from Spurs to the Mackems in 2009 via the 140 character microblogging format, via his DB_TheTruth account. He’s gone strangely silent since his disappearance off to Villa mind you, though there are still probably a few thousand unread messages from cyber toughies with FTM73 as part of their log-in name waiting for when Bent has his next shufty on line.

Obviously Carlton Cole has just been fined for his tasteless remarks about the Ghana fans at Wembley in the recent friendly international, while Jack Wilshere was called to the headmaster’s office at the FA for whining about a penalty Newcastle got in the 4-4 with Arsenal in February. Mind, like the teenage tearaway offspring of the problem family at the bottom of the street, how can we expect Wilshere to know better or show any respect the way his manager has brought him up?

However what has really amused me of late has been Michael Owen’s amazement at the negative reception he got at SJP last week, when a storm of boos greeted his every touch. The horse racing obsessive with all the personality of John Major on lithium used Twitter to make the following ill-judged comments: Got a poor reception off the home fans which was disappointing... Knew I would get booed as that's what a lot of fans do but if they knew the facts then they may have a different opinion... For the record, I tried my best in every game for Newcastle. Under KK I played well and I’ll never forget the 2 I scored against Sunderland…When I meet Newcastle or Liverpool fans they all respect what I've done for their clubs. In stadiums it changes, 1 boo and the rest follow… By the way, I’m not looking for sympathy. As long as my family don't boo me when I walk through the door I couldn't care less.

Now I wasn’t at the game, having turned down a freebie to see Whitley Bay 0 South Shields 0 instead, but I would have booed Owen relentlessly, remorselessly, especially as he had the audacity to SELL not give his helicopter to the North East Ambulance Service, after the millions he earned for precisely nothing in 4 years on Tyneside. While I find the idea of arrogant, deluded multi-millionaire sportsmen having on-line implosions very amusing, I have to say that Michael, you can rest easy tonight; I don’t despise you any more now you’ve left Newcastle United than when you played for them. As one Tweet said; you were a shameful disgrace in black & white and symbolise why I hate the modern game. Well said that man!

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