‘how can I know what I think till I see what I say?’ (e.m. forster) - semi socratic dialogues and diatribes on the subjects of cricket, football, music, ireland, culture and politics by ian cusack
Did you enjoy the game on Sunday afternoon? If you’re sensible and watched Newcastle dismantle West Brom, the answer will be yes. If you’re stupid like me, and watched a stultifying 0-0 from Dalymount on RTE2 between Bohs and St. Pat’s, the answer will be no. Of course, I made up for it with my live football attendance; on Saturday I met up with some blogging, tweeting, real ale quaffing, music loving pals at the FA Vase semi-final when Dunston deservedly beat Staveley 1-0; here’s hoping they do the job this Saturday in the second leg down in Derbyshire.
Even better was Team Northumbria’s sparkling second half performance on Monday night when they came from a goal down to beat Billingham Synthonia 3-1 in the Northern League Cup, while 26 goals were scored in the first round of the EA Sports Cup. Then there was Wednesday’s delightful evening at Hillheads, among sparkling companions, where Whitley Bay A defeated Ashington Colliers 4-1 in a great game. Best of all was Tuesday night, when we all discovered Party With Marty actually involves making Everton look like Brazil 70.
However, apart from that opening brace of paragraphs, there’s no football here on the blog this week; sorry everyone, but as the first third of 2012 is drawing to a close, I thought I’d like to focus on some music for a change. Not recorded music, as I’ve not bought any yet this year, though that’ll soon change with releases by The Wedding Present, Gerard Love’s Lightships and Trembling Bells with Bonnie Prince Billy on order, but live music. Having been to 5 gigs this year, in the period between February 23rd and March 23rd, I thought I’d give you my impressions on what I’ve seen and heard. Partly because I’m opinionated and partly because I realise I’m slightly rusty when it comes to writing about music, so here’s the blogging equivalent of a five finger exercise.
Actually, perhaps the best gig could have been the one that got away, though I doubt it; my mate Dan from work is in a band called Dennis and they were supporting obscure one –hit wonders Baby Bird on the latter’s last chance tour at the Academy on February 4th. As this was a Saturday night, it was a freakishly early show, with them due on stage at 7.30. I made for the queue around 7.00, but my passage was blocked by 1,000 geeks, weirdos and associated beatniks with green hair, bike jackets and ripped tartan keks, as the truly woeful Misfits were playing downstairs. By the time they’d let that lot in, it was 7.45 and there was no way I was paying £15 to see quarter of an hour of the support act, regardless of the chance to hang around for “You’re Gorgeous” with a couple of dozen curious onlookers. In the end, the Thornbridge Jaipur in the Bodega and Newcastle Arms rightfully won the day. So, who did I actually get to see?
The Staves: February 23rd The Cluny
Actually they were supporting Michael Kiwanuka, who is my idea of torture, as sincerity always grates. The Staves are a sweet voiced trio of sisters from Hertfordshire who are closer to the early 80s acoustic indie ladies, The Marine Girls, than they are to the more fist-pumping power folk populists like Noah & The Whale or Mumford & Sons. To me, that’s a good thing as I’m wary of anything too commercial in the folk genre; give me Phil Ochs over Peter, Paul & Mary any day. The Staves have one stand out track, “Mexico,”when their 3 part harmonies soar over hushed guitar picking. They are nice young ladies and they deserve to do well; however, even if they sell jack shit, the sound they make is pleasant, undemanding and pure.
Fairport Convention: February 26th Sage 2
Well, just what can you say about a band that are celebrating 45 years together? Apart from “I wish I could go to Cropredy as it ends on my birthday this year,” not much. The steady, settled line up was back again on their 33rd annual winter Tour, playing the usual classics; “Matty Groves” and “Meet On The Ledge” bring the house down as joyously as ever, but minor jewels such as Chris Leslie’s brilliant interpretation of “The Hexhamshire Lass” deserve fulsome praise as well. Also, what I love about these folk gigs, apart from the fact time seems to have magically stopped in 1972, is that I’m one of the younger elements in the audience.
Rab Noakes: March 4th Porters
If things had gone to plan, I’d not even have been here for this, but that’s enough moaning over my cancelled trip to Arbroath. Instead, there was the opportunity to have a lemon and ginger infusion in Tynemouth Station’s swanky coffee house, while watching the hidden gem of Scottish singer songwriting in a capacity crowd of 50. Noakes, who was an early member of Stealer’s Wheel, is probably most famous for writing “Turn A Deaf Ear” and “Together Forever” for Lindisfarne (Ray Laidlaw put this gig on incidentally). Both of those got an outing, as well as about a dozen of his songs that extend back 45/50 years to his roots in small town Fife. There were also covers of Dylan, Leadbelly, Radiohead and, bizarrely, “Bye Bye Blackbird.” To be in the presence of a celebrated, intense talent was an unexpected pleasure. I do hope I get the chance to see him again.
Sexual Objects: March 16th Star & Shadow
So we leave 1972 and head to 1981. Davey Henderson, of Fire Engines, Win & Nectarine Number 9 fame, came down from Glasgow with his arcane patter, intense guitar driven harmonies and innovative improvisation. No merchandise on sale; no hint at a tour, just a minor post punk genius playing atonal riffs in front of the size of crowd you’d get at a Northern League Division 2 game; I loved it. I loved the support as well; Beauty Pageant, who appear to be Heaton’s answer to Teenage Jesus & the Jerks meet Essential Logic. Tunes? No thank you!
Ray Jackson’s Acoustic Gathering: March 23rd Cluny 2
I’d gone 30 odd years without seeing Lindisfarne, then two of them turn up in the space of a month. Jacka, together with former members of Magna Carta and Fotheringay, played at the Cluny 2. Great gig it was, I’d think twice about attending this cramped, claustrophobic cellar again; 12 people pushing past you to get to the bog in one song is just no fun. To be fair, it was a non Ray Jackson number and the audience were only there for him. He began with “Road To Kingdom Come,” took in “Together Forever” and “Lady Elanor,” before ending with “Meet Me On The Corner.” It honestly had me on the verge of tears; there was no “We Can Swing Together,” but he did the harmonica bits as a last encore. “Blaydon Races” on the mandolin? You can’t beat it.
Despite my protestations and affectations to the contrary, I do still love Newcastle United. Last Sunday’s 1-0 win over Norwich City, coming as it did after 4 games without a victory, was richly and riotously celebrated, even if rejoicing would be too strong a word for the emotion engendered by this contest. Frankly boredom was the predominant feeling as the second half dragged on; having seen Canaries keeper Ruddy make 3 blinding saves in the first half to keep the score respectable, after the break I began to wonder what on earth I could possibly write about.
In search of inspiration, I headed to Blue Flames on the Tuesday following to watch Newcastle Reserves play Chelsea’s second team; as Nile Ranger had been selected, the game was presumably taking place there rather than at SJP to satisfy one of the dozens of bail conditions surrounding his current legal complexities. Boasting £18m striker Romelu Lukaku up top, it was no surprise the team in blue eased past the dispirited and demotivated collection of imminent free transfers in black and white to win 4-2. Quite where Newcastle United’s shadow squad goes from here, bearing in mind Llambias has announced the club will have a smaller squad of players next season than the current one, is a moot point. Suffice to say, these young men have the weight of failure on their shoulders; if current history repeats itself, few of them will find clubs in the Football League to carve out a career.
One former Newcastle United reserve is Frank Wiafe Danquah; born in Amsterdam, he was a product of the Ajax youth set up and signed for Newcastle in 2006, around the same time as another Dutch youngster by the name of Krul. Unlike the brilliant Tim, Danquah’s career stalled. Following the expiry of his contract in 2010 he left SJP, firstly heading to Ferencvaros in Hungary, then to Beveren in the Belgian second division and thence on trial to Gateshead. When no deal was forthcoming at the International Stadium, he signed for the second ranked side on Tyneside, Newcastle Benfield. Currently, he’s not getting his game.
While I’ve been attending games at SJP since a 2-2 draw with Leicester City on New Year’s Day 1993, I’ve not as yet managed to see any silverware being won, other than 2007’s Inter Toto Cup of course. However, as a devotee of Benfield, who are my Northern League side, I’ve cheered them on to 3 League Cups in 2006, 2009 and 2011, as well as the League Title, won in the last game of the season away at Penrith, when Steven Young’s 86th minute winner put the Walkergate Brazilians top of the table for the first time that season. It was a tremendous night; the squad were united, committed and playing out of their skins; it was a richly deserved title. Heady, happy days and, having seen them tumble out of the League Cup at home to North Shields last Wednesday, a million miles away from the current situation at Sam Smith’s Park, where a palpable air of gloom and anger hangs over the place. However those emotions were not sparked by this game, but by a complete failure to act and utter dereliction of duties by the football authorities to deal with one of the most shameful incidents in the entire history of the Northern League.
The loss to The Robins was the 11th reverse on home soil this season, 9 of which have been in the League; with Spennymoor and Whitley Bay ominously still to visit. There have been 3 managers in charge; Paul Baker ended his second spell as boss last September, allowing long-serving, loyal midfielder and scorer of the goal that won Benfield their first Northern League Cup in 2006 over Nissan, Alusene Bangura to take charge; sadly he decided to leave on Saturday 10th March after a 2-1 defeat to Billingham Synthonia. His replacement, until the end of the season, is former Spennymoor assistant Perry Briggs, who has overseen 3 successive losses so far, the last of which was 3-1 at Ryhope on the Tuesday Chelsea Reserves were winning at Blue Flames. Currently, Benfield are 12th in Division 1; while they are 13 points clear of relegation, they have lost their last 5 games and have nothing other than a Northumberland Senior Cup semi-final away to Team Northumbria on Monday April 2nd to look forward to.
While the current situation is neither particularly bleak nor grim, it does tell of a club who have stagnated; their great side of 3 years ago has either got older or moved on, with the replacements not up to the previous standards. This is disappointing from a spectator’s point of view, but it is not the real reason for writing about Benfield; the purpose of this blog is an altogether more serious one. Sadly, yet again, the spectre of racist abuse and the rotten core of institutional bigotry and inaction that blights the game at all levels, simply have to be addressed. It is a story whereby none of the North Yorkshire Football Association, Guisborough Town FC or the Northern League can emerge from with any credit whatsoever.
I’ve followed Benfield since their elevation to the Northern League in 2003, though my involvement with Percy Main (and Newcastle United if I’m totally honest) limits my chances of seeing the Lions that often these days. Indeed, in 2011/2012, I’ve only managed to see them 5 times, 4 of which have been at home. Certainly the most crucial of these encounters was not the scintillating 1-1 draw at Hillheads on Boxing Day in front of a magnificent 523 fans, it was the 3-2 home reverse to Guisborough Town on Bank Holiday Monday 2nd January.
On paper, a loss in front of your own fans to a newly promoted side who are struggling at the foot of the table is always disappointing, but having given a soft goal away and then seen keeper Andrew Grainger sent off, it was always going to be a struggle to get anything out of the game. Despite a second half rally, so it proved. However, the result pales in to insignificance when an incident involving Benfield’s young right winger Jordan Lartey is examined.
Midway through the first period, with Guisborough leading 2-0, a visiting player went down injured, then rolled off the pitch. As he was outside the field of play, Benfield continued attacking, winning a corner. As the corner was about to be delivered, a Guisborough player unleashed a vile volley of racist invective in the direction of young Jordan, who thankfully didn’t hear it at the time. Amazingly, despite being stood 10 yards from the incident, the referee claimed not to have heard anything either. The abuse was caught on camera by a Sky TV news crew who were filming the game for their Tyne & Wear website, which includes regular bulletins on North East non-league football (two cheers for Rupert Murdoch) and the existence of this footage is the kernel of the subsequent disgraceful inaction by the football authorities.
At half time in this game, both the Benfield and Guisborough secretaries were called to the referee’s room to discuss the incident. Word spread that the racist in question would not be getting away with it and that Benfield were pressing to have the book thrown at him. I left the ground that day with the clear belief that a complaint would be made in the strongest terms possible to both the Northern League and the North Yorkshire FA about the incident. For two months, nothing happened, other than the Northern League website carried weekly sweetheart stories about what a wonderful club Guisborough Town are. On March 10th, Jordan’s mam tweeted that the North Yorkshire FA had advised no further action should be taken, despite the incontrovertible video evidence.
The truly appalling thing about this is that, by refusing to deal with a clear case of racist abuse that has been captured on video tape and is in the public domain, the North Yorkshire FA are probably applying their regulations to the letter, in the sense that because the referee did not take any action at the time, there is nothing they can do, or are minded towards doing. However, regardless of their current policies, to allow the repulsive racial abuse of a player by an opponent sends out all the wrong signals and is frankly an absolute outrage.
Benfield are the only club in the Northern League I’ve seen who have black fans and, until last week, a black manager who served his club with distinction for almost 15 years. The only time I’ve heard racist abuse prior to this in a Northern League ground was at Sam Smith’s in December 2004, when a Shildon fan reacted badly during his team’s 4-2 loss with a mouthful of stinking filth in the direction of Alu Bangura. Thankfully, other Shildon fans responded to this Neanderthal’s conduct with disgust and impressed upon the racist idiot the need to shut his mouth, which he did and eventually slunk off out of the ground.
As far as I’m aware, nothing more happened after that incident. While the Shildon fan’s conduct was appalling, at least his peers showed their intolerance of such behaviour. The same level of disgust and direct action was not discernible when former Morpeth Town manager Trevor Benjamin was called “a fucking black cunt” by a Darlington Railway Athletic player in September 2010. The player, who is still with the Brinkburn Road club, was subsequently fined £50 and banned for a paltry 4 games, while Darlington supporters took to the north east non-league message board to complain about the decision’s severity, as the incident hadn’t featured in the referee’s report.
The ignorance and invective directed towards Benjamin made Liverpool’s statement in support of the loathsome Suarez sound like a set of lyrics by Chuck D. However, this message board has recently deleted any comment relating to the Jordan Lartey incident; I’m not claiming the owners or whoever is behind this HTML encoded cretins’ picnic are overtly racist, but their “case closed; debate over” attitude is, in effect, providing tacit institutional support for an appalling decision by the Blue Blazers that run the game at county level.
However, the North Yorkshire FA are not the only ones to come out of this whole sordid affair reeking of hypocrisy, cant and smug indifference; Guisborough Town may claim they have no responsibility to discipline or dismiss a player who has not been convicted of any transgression, but they’ve heard the video tape, many of them were at the game. Pitifully, the reaction of certain Guisborough fans when Benfield supporters voiced their displeasure in no uncertain terms was to say that swearing is as bad as racism and that bad language, of whatever type, is not tolerated at their ground; an attitude that displays the kind of pitiful, sickening, small-minded, ignorant, Daily Mail ideology, containing no understanding whatsoever of the pernicious, evil nature of racism. They should be ashamed of themselves.
And so should the Northern League. Despite the incidents in 2004 and 2010, the Northern League has nothing on its website that states racism is unacceptable in the game. Never to my knowledge has the League sought to engage in any initiative that combats intolerance, preferring instead to focus on profanity and not prejudice. Whether is ignorance, indifference or tacit tolerance of bigotry that allows the League to get away with such inaction, while repeatedly launching campaigns against foul and abusive language, I am not sure. However I do know that no language can be more foul and more abusive than that launched at Alu Bangura, Trevor Benmjamin or Jordan Lartey.
Watching grassroots football north of the Tyne as I do, it is becoming more and more obvious that the changing demographics of the area between Byker and the Coast mean that the preponderance of talented young black and mixed race footballers in the Northern Alliance and Tyneside Amateur League will no doubt eventually be translated in to a similar ethnic mix in the Northern League, perhaps not across all clubs, but certainly around the Newcastle, Gateshead, North and South Tyneside areas. Benfield, Team Northumbria and North Shields all have black and mixed race players on their books; soon West Allotment, Whitley Bay and the clubs south of the Tyne at Dunston, South Shields and Hebburn will no doubt follow. How exactly will the backwoodsmen from monocultural settlements in West Durham and North Yorkshire deal with that? Unless clear, unequivocal statements spelling out that the sort of abuse we’ve discussed here will simply not be accepted, then I shudder to think what some of the less advanced clubs and their supporters will try to get away with.
When will the administrative apologists for prejudice and racism end their sickening approximations of Pontius Pilate and face reality? The north east is changing, football is changing and the Northern League needs to accept and embrace this. Never mind stamping out swearing, surely it is time for them to show racism the red card and not the white flag?
I love my job; 99% of the time it is an honour and a privilege to do the work I do. I especially appreciate the hours I am required to work; having a Wednesday morning off affords me the perfect opportunity to scribble these few notes each week. This joyous happenstance occurs in return for working one evening a week. Originally it used to be a Tuesday, but since September 2007 it has been a Thursday evening; I’m happy to do this, secure in the knowledge that I’m highly unlikely to miss any football on that day, especially since Newcastle United opted out of UEFA competitions, having won our second major European trophy, the Inter Toto Cup in 2007. Anything less than 3 points against Norwich on Sunday and it’ll appear that our boycott is continuing next season as well, which will come in handy when planning for next year.
Obviously there are the occasional down sides to this working arrangement, especially as the Europa League throws up the odd gem of a game; arriving home at half time in the Spurs v Shamrock Rovers game last November was one such instance. Another occurred only last week, when Athletic Club went to Old Trafford and won 3-2 in a superb spectacle of attacking football. At some point UEFA has slipped in the fact that some Europa League games can kick off at 6pm, for television presumably, which is why I missed Manchester City’s defeat in Portugal.
Thankfully I was able to see the magnificent Bilbao side tear through the Manchester United defence at will, securing a thoroughly merited 3-2 victory. My respect at admiration for all things Basque, but especially the beautiful and vibrant city of Bilbao, made for the first piece I composed for this blog back in July 2010 and for another piece when Ben and I visited last summer, which makes me regret I was unable to be there back in 1994 with Newcastle in the UEFA Cup. It is my fondest hope that when Athletic Club move to the new San Mames in 2013 that Newcastle United are invited to be the opponents when it is time to open the ground. In the present time, I’m very disappointed the return leg kicks off at 6pm so I’ll miss the game.
With such a breath taking spectacle unfolding on free to air terrestrial TV last week, it is a wonder that any other game of football anywhere could have received any attention at all. However, good old Newcastle United managed to make front page headlines with the off field antics that surrounded the reserve encounter with the Great Unwashed the same night. It has been a bone of contention among the conspicuous uber ultra element in the fanbase that home reserve games are increasingly being played behind closed doors at the club’s Darsley Park training ground. Obviously those of us with a reasonable knowledge of cycle tracks in the North Tyneside area are aware of the fact it is possible to peek between gorse bushes and leylandii hedges athwart the East Coast mainline and the Inland Revenue’s Tyneview Park complex on random midweek afternoons in order to see these games, but frankly why would you bother?
The 4 prior games in 2011/2012 that were accessible to the public, attracted crowds of 197 (6-0 v Norwich), 582 (3-2 v Liverpool), 317 (2-0 v Ashington in the Northumberland Senior Cup) and 186 (5-1 v Bedlington Terriers in the same competition) to West Allotment Celtic’s home ground Whitley Park, aka Blue Flames. Considering the latter 2 games will have seen about 50% of the crowd supporting the non-league sides, it’s clear a fairly tiny percentage of NUFC’s support have been bothered to stir from their fireside to see these games; undoubtedly though, there are those who bemoan the lack of access to stellar contests against the shadow squads of Everton, Bolton and Wigan that were played out away from the prying eyes of the general public. Presumably these zealous complaints will be at the Blackburn Rovers game that takes place tomorrow afternoon at 1pm. Fair play to them if they are.
After the previous Sunday’s emotionally charged kickboxing inspired Derby game, it was of no surprise to anyone that the return of the mackems to Tyneside, even if it was only their stiffs, would be met with the consequent, predictable increase in testosterone levels across both sides of the divide. Hence, the contest at St. James’ Park attracted a crowd of 2,995, which more than doubled the aggregate attendance of all home reserve fixtures this season that have previously seen an average gate of 320. I think it is fair to say the extras weren’t persuaded to show up because Obertan and Gosling were getting starts in this one.
From all I’ve read, the game was a bit of a cracker; Obertan scored a belter, our keeper had a meltdown and presented them with 2, before Gosling levelled and was subsequently sent off for “scoring” with a punch after they’d regained the lead, before Ryan Donaldson levelled things up in the last 5 minutes to make the final score 3-3. All well and good; sure there had been a non-stop exchange of profane, witless banter between the two sets of adolescent hotheads and there were numerous tales of depressing Mackem aggression towards NUFC supporting youngsters inside and outside of the ground by bullies twice the age of their intended victims, whose only “crimes” were to have been born close to a different river, speak with a different accent and opting to follow the local rivals of these brave men in expensive footwear.
However, that can all be put to one side, apparently, because of the “riot” that Donaldson’s game sparked, which caused the referee to stop the game, even though he didn’t. Play had already been halted because of an injury, but as I remarked last week, a lie placed on the internet becomes the truth once it has been repeated enough times, especially if you’re a Mackem. In short, this alleged mass act of civil disobedience was a gang of young lads who always stand in the top rows of the East Stand at reserve games and sing their hearts out for the whole 90 minutes, who were in the same position for the Blackburn youth cup game a fortnight previously, getting carried away with the atmosphere on the night and tearing down the large cardboard Sports Direct adverts from the back wall of the stand, though as the joke said, they weren’t fully successful, only managing to get 70% off. These were bits of cardboard, not boulders or Molotov cocktails; they didn’t hurt anyone and it gave the stewards something to do when the ripped remnants fluttered down to the pitch side.
As I say, I wasn’t there; I’d imagine if I had been I’d have found this conduct partly amusing and partly irritating. Let’s have some perspective here; this wasn’t a recreation of the 1990 play off a generation later, it was a bunch of daft teenagers sticking their tongue out to Ashley and Llambias; it reminds me of an unruly Year 10 class cheeking a supply teacher on a Friday afternoon. Unfortunately, things didn’t end at that point; whipped up by this minor result and feeling the flush of nascent masculinity in their loins, these pustular stormy petrels raced down to Eldon Square and attempted to break the windows of Sports Direct. They failed in this, but the very act was enough to afford a Northumbria Police spokesperson time on the local news the next day to speak in sombre and shallow tones about wanton vandalism, lawlessness and the destruction of private property, as well as providing another stick for the on-line and print enemies of Newcastle United with a stick to beat the support with. Meanwhile Twitter became the Monday Club in 140 characters as more and more Newcastle fans condemned this lot in increasingly intemperate tones that fought marginally shy of reintroducing National Service, while a dogged minority vainly and increasingly unconvincingly argued that this evening marked the start of a spontaneous popular uprising against the Ashley regime.
Here’s a controversial thought; what if the events of March 8th 2012 were neither of those things? What if they were just an example of a frustrated section of our support incorrectly channelling their righteous indignation against the particularly galling issue of the supposed renaming of the ground at the end of an emotionally charged week that had seen their club twice face bitter local rivals in games where late equalisers had lifted the roof off the home ends? Undoubtedly these youngsters are angry, marginalised and frustrated by the conduct of the club “owners” and wanted to vent their feelings; sadly it came out not in a constructive way but as a folie de plusiers at the main entrance to a cheap and tawdry discount sports outfitter. However, in the continued absence of any truly effective, large scale fans’ organisation, following the virtual disintegration of NUST and despite the sterling, tireless efforts of Utd4NUFC, whose work seems to attract the scorn and approbation of self-appointed keyboard cultural gauleiters, generally on the basis that these analysts of the predominant Tyneside Weltanschauung don’t approve of anything they didn’t think of first, the frustrations of sections of our support will manifest themselves in minor acts of destructive behaviour that are doomed to fail and will be seized on by those whose agenda it is to discredit sections of the support as incontrovertible evidence of the uncivilised and unruly nature of the club and the support, no doubt removing the regional magnifying glass from the barbarians on Wearside.
No doubt the events of last Thursday evening will eventually see banning orders and police cautions for those involved, as a predictably disproportionate response to youthful exuberance rather than any premeditated criminality. Consequently, it is beholden on those of us who see the ownership of the club by the fans as the only convincing way to stop Newcastle United being used as a vehicle for profiteering or self-aggrandisement (especially in view of the supposedly wonderful end of year accounts that butter no parsnips for the supporters, but show Ashley’s protection of his own financial interests becoming ever more central to the future viability and success of Newcastle United) to offer conditional support to those targeted by forces of repression, with the idea of growing the movement in favour of fan ownership by including these fans in our midst; the ideal will be the organisation of a disorganised but passionate subset of support among the corpus of Utd4NUFC. To condemn, to dismiss or to ignore these youthful fans is to miss a cast-iron opportunity to expand and develop the fans’ movement at our club, as they are the future. As Malcolm X observed in 1963 after the Reverend James Bevell led a march of High School students through Birmingham, Alabama, only to be met by firehoses and ferocious police dogs; "Real men don't put their children on the firing line.” Let us learn from Thursday March 8th; it should mark the date when despair ended and tactics began.
Clearly tactics were lacking in the last moments of injury time at the Emirates on Monday. While Danny Simpson is no doubt aware he made a poor decision with that final throw in, the abuse he received on Twitter was disproportionate and completely unnecessary; as unnecessary as Tim Krul’s artless tantrum to Van Persie it has to be said. Let’s try and get some perspective on this game; while it is galling to lose in the final seconds, we’ve done that before and we’ll do it again. I doubt anyone could make a convincing case that we deserved anything out of the game as both Van Persie and Gervinho ought to have put the game beyond us in the second half. However, looking at the positives, we’re still in 6th place with 10 games to go. While we must beat Norwich and avoid defeat at West Brom as a minimum requirement, if the season is not risk dribbling out in to dispiriting mediocrity, this is not the time to point fingers at individuals in the team; it is time to stand united. Let’s get behind the players and off their backs; support the club and support the fans that care.
We had a great afternoon at Purvis Park on Saturday as Shankhouse were defeated 3-1, allowing us to complete our second double of the season. Sadly Geoff's printer was on the blink so there weren't any programmes, so the following articles didn't get published. Here they are now instead -:
Good afternoon everyone and welcome to Purvis Park for this afternoon’s Pin Point Recruitment Northern Alliance Premier Division game against Shankhouse. I’d like to extend a special welcome to all the players, supporters and officials associated with our visitors today. I trust they will enjoy their short stay with us.
Last week we defeated today’s opponents 2-1 at their Northburn ground in Cramlington. However the result was overshadowed by the most tremendous piece of sportsmanship it has been my privilege to see, not just in the time I’ve followed Percy Main, but in my 39 years of following football. After 19 minutes of last week’s game the Main’s Lindsay Collinson was knocked out cold following a penalty box collision with Jevan Jull. In the absence of a whistle, Shankhouse played on, quite properly, and took the lead. However, when the extent of Lindsay’s injury became clear, Shankhouse sportingly allowed Kevin Westphal to run unchallenged from the halfway line to score an immediate equaliser. Well, immediate in game play; it was nigh on three quarters of an hour in actual time. I must pay tribute to the Shankhouse team for allowing that to happen.
Soon after Kevin put us ahead and, after 21 minutes, we were all wondering if it was to be a repeat of last season’s incredible 6-4 win for the Main. In the end, it proved to be the end of the scoring. No doubt the close proximity of the game will mean that the two sides will have a pretty good idea of each other’s style of play, so let’s hope for an entertaining and open game. Last season Percy Main squeaked home by a margin of 2-1 in a midweek game played in late April, with both Villagers goals being scored by combative striker Jonathon McEnaney.
After today, the Main are off on our travels again, with next Saturday presenting a tough St. Patrick’s Day challenge in the shape of a trip to title challengers Heaton Stannington, who seem to have the Indian sign over us, having completed 4 straight wins since our promotion in 2010. The week after sees us making the trip to Hirst Welfare for a game against Ashington Colliers, before we welcome our old mates from Stocksfield on March 31st. All Saturday games are now 2.30 kick offs.
Off the pitch, our old Web Teams website appears to have disappeared in to the ether, so all our cyber activity can be found at www.percymainafc.co.uk with the site being added to and developed all the time. Peter Bainbridge is doing a sterling job by uploading videos of Pierre Luc Coiffait practising his gargantuan throws, while Geoff is publishing Tim Grimshaw’s action shots of the game quicker than The Pink used to hit the streets!
The website also gives details of the NEW Percy Main Bingo Lottery, which is being overseen by Geoff. It’s very easy to get involved; just pick 6 numbers between 1 and 49, then choose how many weeks you wish to participate, cost of £1 per week for each set of 6 numbers, then see Geoff to pay your stake and get a lottery ticket in return, or email him at geoff@cinix.co.uk
Please consider joining and do enjoy the game today!
While our fixture at Northburn was action packed last weekend, with the added bonus of Division 2’s bottom side Cramlington United losing 1-5 to 11th placed Alnwick Town Reserves (the only goal I saw was Cramlington’s, so don’t ask for a match report) on the adjoining pitch, the place to be for cup action was Newcastle University’s Coach Lane pitches, with both Northumberland FA Minor Cup semi-finals taking place concurrently. The final will be between Wallington, who overcame the University by a single goal, and a Chemfica side that were able to hold their nerve in a penalty shoot-out against this season’s surprise cup package Willington Quay Saints. Chemfica prevailed 4-2 after a 3-3 draw after extra time.
The Alliance Premier Division saw half a dozen fixtures, with Carlisle City returning to the summit after a 1-0 win over fourth placed Killingworth at the Sheepmount, overhauling Heaton Stannington who slipped to a 4-2 home loss to a Hebburn Reyrolle side that move up to third. Whitley Bay A claimed 5th spot ahead of the inactive Harraby Catholic Club, by winning 2-1 away to Seaton Delaval Amateurs, who lie a place and a point ahead of us in 10th, but with the small matter of 5 games in hand. In the final game, Blyth Town, who are 9th, ended their recent poor run of form by winning their local derby 3-0 over 8th placed Ashington Colliers.
In Division 1, the solitary fixture saw Cramlington Town move up to 6th after a single goal victory over second bottom Morpeth Sporting Club. Meanwhile the First Division Subsidiary Cup, whereby 10 teams (with the exception of Cramlington Town who opted not to participate) are split in to 2 groups of 5 teams, got underway with Amble United winning 2-0 away to Cullercoats in Group A and Forest Hall and Gosforth Bohemians playing out a stalemate in Group B.
Division 2 saw leaders Red House Farm surprisingly held 2-2 by 12th placed North Shields Athletic. It was 2-2 when second met third as Hexham and Wallsend Boys Club shared the spoils. Fourth placed Harton & Westoe could not benefit from this, as it remained scoreless in Carlisle against fifth top Northbank. Bedlington Terriers Reserves are 7th after thumping second bottom Swalwell 4-0, while 8th top Whickham Lang Jacks did their goal difference a power of good by cuffing sixth placed Wideopen 7-0. Finally, in the 9th v 10th clash, New Fordley and Alston shared the spoils in a 2-2 draw.
In the Northern League, praise must go to Dunston UTS, 4-3 winners at Peterborough Northern Star and West Auckland Town, who won 2-0 away to Bournemouth; both teams are now in the FA Vase Semi Final. In Division 1, Whitley Bay’s troubled times continued when Spennymoor United came to Hillheads and won by the only goal, while Newcastle Benfield, who are learning to live without talismanic striker Michael Chilton, had a good win 2-1 over Shildon. In Division 2, Team Northumbria moved 14 points clear at the top, with a resounding 4-0 win away to Washington. West Allotment Celtic are only 2 points from a promotion spot after beating Chester Le Street 3-1, while North Shields dropped to 8th, after they were held at home 2-2 by Birtley Town.
Gateshead’s hopes of a return to the Football League seem to be over, as a 3-2 home loss to Ebbsfleet saw them drop down to 10th place in the table. Good news for Blyth Spartans though; Tommy Cassidy’s side registered their first away win for 6 months, with a 2-0 success in North Wales against Colwyn Bay. Well done to them; where there’s life, there’s hope!
I wasn’t at the 146th Tyne Wear derby. Indeed, if it had not been for a sequence of complex events that began with the euthanizing of Francisco Jimenez Tejada (aka Ronan the dog), I wouldn’t even have been on Tyneside that particular weekend. I should have been at Aberdeen v Celtic and then Arbroath v East Fife with Andy, Michael and Shaun. Texts and Tweets told of a pair of blinding games, 1-1 and 2-2 respectively, with an uproarious real ale session in Dundee on the Saturday night; it seemed like I’d missed out on all the fun.
In the event, staying home was quite pleasant, on the Saturday at least; Winstons beat Hartlepool Camerons 3-1 and I won the domino card for the first time ever, then Percy Main came from behind to defeat Shankhouse 2-1. Come Sunday, I was awake early with all the usual stresses, fears and worries that accompany a game I’ve always felt was the sporting equivalent of an exam you’d not revised for.
Of course I didn’t watch it; I couldn’t. Too nervous you see. I know that’s a pathetic admission from someone who is almost 48, but unlike Seamus Heaney and the Bloody Sunday funerals (see last week’s blog for more details), I can admit to my sin of omission, or cowardice if you prefer. Instead, I followed the first half on Twitter at home, nervously pacing the kitchen, hallway and lounge, regularly checking the lap top for updates. Bendtner’s penalty and the ill-luck of Coloccini and Ba in trying to equalise made up my mind how I’d cope with the second period; I decided to cycle to Tynemouth.
It was a lousy day; freezing cold and sleeting as I left Heaton, though that turned to driving rain and a punishing gale from off the North Sea the closer I got to the Coast. My shoes were sodden before I’d crossed Station Road in Wallsend. Every mile or so, my curiosity defeated my need for cover and self preservation; I stopped regularly to check Twitter and the BBC website on my phone. Time crawled as I read of Sessegnon’s red card, of incessant black and white pressure, of 19 wasted corners and, depressingly as I passed The Spring Gardens in North Shields, of Ba’s missed penalty. In my usual fit of self doubt and fear that surrounds the game, I’d predicted a 0-1 score line; how guilty and glum I’d felt for seemingly inviting such ill luck. Then, it changed.
A hundred yards ahead of The Spring Gardens are a trio of other pubs; The Albion (Top House), The Old Hundred and The Oddfellows (The Little Bar). Stopped at traffic lights at a deserted junction, depression cloaking my mood, I observed an incredible sight. Literally hundreds of shrieking, hysterical, joyful punters burst through the doors of each of these bars; embracing each other, punching the air, profaning loudly. I noticed that not one of them was attired in a mackem top; those that wore colours (and it wasn’t many as we’re talking proper hard lad Shields here) were in black and white. Then the singing, to the tune of the Hokey Cokey began.
Getting off the road, I propped the bike up against The Oddfellows and watched the dying embers of the game. Despairing of discerning anything through breath frosted glass, I stepped indoors. On October 31st 2010, again too fearful to attend or watch the game, I’d followed the demolition derby on my phone, finally deigning to enter licensed premises once we’d established a reasonable 5-0 lead. Back then, the first action I saw was Darren Bent scoring for them; this time I saw Mike Williamson spurning the chance to gain legendary status by stabbing a presentable chance wide as the game ended in a draw.
Suddenly, I was alone; the bar disgorged its entire clientele who were soon sparking up on the pavement outside. Exiting, I rescued a pushbike I’d expected to be nicotine stained and coughing, then began my task of finding out the real story behind the game on the modern sporting battleground; the internet. Preludial phone calls were made to Dublin and Vitoria-Gasteiz to see how the game had been viewed by those of a black and white persuasion in The Ha’Penny Bridge and Café Viena respectively. The story I was hearing was of a game that belonged to them for 40 minutes, but could and should have replicated last season’s 5-1 demolition, alongside crass mackem thuggery and an appalling lack of class on the pitch, which I subsequently learned from eyewitness accounts was replicated and redoubled by a seething, brutal band of brigands on the terraces, aboard public transport (predictably enough) and in the streets.
From all I’ve read and heard in the aftermath of this game, I can only conclude that in the near future, a Tyne Wear derby will be marked by the death of a fan. Undoubtedly this fan will be one of ours, perhaps a solitary teenager at a bus stop or a middle-aged family man looking for his car, but he’ll be a black and whiter who will fall under a flurry of boots and fists, or a single stab by a bladed up sewer rat. I don’t want to sound alarmist, but the fact is, the mackems hate Newcastle United with such fury they will kill one or more of us to demonstrate that fact. The victim who dies will join Bobby Robson and Gary Speed in the litany of sick songs that are spread on sunderland message boards in preparation for games against us.
Perhaps one of the biggest benefits of not going to the game was that I could watch the re-run of it with dispassionate, disinterested eyes. Having done so, all I could conclude is that sunderland, both players and supporters, are completely out of control and that this mass, snarling hysteria is fed and nurtured by the highest echelons of the club.
Examine the conduct of both sets of fans; on Sunday, Shola Ameobi’s 90th minute equaliser was met with joyous scenes in the ground as well as Nile Street in Shields. However, not one person encroached upon the field of play; compare this with the Mackem reactions to Gyan’s equaliser last season when Steve Harper was assaulted or in October 2008, when Kieran Richardson’s goal was greeted with a mass pitch invasion and Shay Given being assaulted. Admittedly Alan Pardew did go slightly over the top with his celebrations, but at least he had the grace to apologise; unlike O’Neill who didn’t have the grace to accept the traditional post match glass of wine, artlessly preferring to get straight on the coach back to his Wearside midden, presumably to concentrate on his fictional narrative for Tuesday’s BBC Radio Newcastle interview.
While there has been trouble in the past, in recent years Newcastle fans have travelled to Wearside, by Metro, train, bus or car and caused not a scrap of bother. On Sunday, the Mackems followed up their destruction of a train carriage en route to their cup replay in Smogland by trashing a Metro. This wasn’t a regular Metro, but a special one that went non-stop Park Lane to Central to allow them to get to the game. En route to the game, the windows of The Forth were put in; presumably in the belief that it is still 1983 and the NME were supping inside, rather than because it is an effete gastro pub, with a similarly effete post 92 clientele, even if the prix fixe menu is of an extraordinarily good standard.
In the ground several seats were smashed, two stewards were assaulted (a female punched in the face and a male pushed down a flight of stairs) and the toilets were wrecked, as well as having excrement smeared around them, presumably as some kind of Dirty Protest tribute to Niall Quinn, the Drumaville Pavees and their current manager, of whom more later.
However, such cretinous behaviour is perhaps to be expected as their club glorifies boorishness and encourages bellicose posturing. The famed free taxis home paid for by Niall Quinn for the sizeable number of their fans who were drunkenly out of control in Bristol airport in 2007, planted the seed in their minds that anti social behaviour will not only be tolerated by the club hierarchy, but rewarded.
The only reason Newcastle did not hand out another severe thrashing to the unwashed is that in the first half, Pardew’s team allowed themselves to be dragged down to the mackems’ level and engaged in a hideous kicking contest. The tone was set by Cattermole’s premeditated attack on Tiote after 40 seconds; having reputedly told Tiote in the tunnel that he’d “do” him, the man who wears the captain’s armband for sunderland deliberately scythed down Tiote in an assault intended to injure the Ivorian. Cattermole ought to have walked then. I remember Gordon Armstrong doing the same thing on Paul Bracewell in April 1993’s game that was decided by Scott Sellars’s free kick. Back then, Keegan’s team laughed it off and got on with the business of winning; sadly this was not the outcome in this instance.
Newcastle’s disappointing adoption of strongarm tactics saw 4 rapid bookings, even if Simpson was rightly furious following McClean’s vile lunge on him. McClean is a nasty piece of work; precociously talented he may be, though those of us with long memories remember Kieran Brady’s supernova career. When the FA examine this incident in detail, having charged both teams with failing to control their players, I’d imagine McClean’s conduct will be rightly excoriated.
The predictable conclusion to this passage of ale house clogging by the Magpies was the nonsensical penalty conceded by Williamson for a tug on Turner, which was celebrated in a deliberately provocative way by Frazier Campbell, intended to enrage Newcastle fans and no doubt the cause of an imminent FA charge for incitement. Following this goal, a brief period of phoney war almost saw the Mackems go 2-0 ahead, but Krul made an excellent save from Bendtner and with that the Mackems retreated to their own 18 yard line for the remainder of the game. Despite being deservedly behind, the previously mentioned efforts from Ba and Coloccini could have seen Newcastle ahead at the break.
In the second period, especially after Sessegnon’s forearm smash on Tiote, who was himself booked for the only significant foul committed by a Newcastle player after the resumption, Newcastle were a joy to watch. Hatem Ben Arfa was Man of the Match by a street and showed exactly what Newcastle fans love to see; football artistry, poetry with the feet. We are the fans who idolise not only our number 9s, but the glorious ball players who’ve graced the Gallowgate turf; Beardsley, Tony Green, Len White, Bobby Mitchell, Hughie Gallagher, Colin Veitch and Pat Heard to name but a few. In contrast on Wearside, brutish, cowardly hatchet men like Joe Bolton, Charlie Hurley, John Kay, Kevin Ball and now Lee Cattermole are lauded.
Off the top of my head I can recall Gary Bennett, Howard Gayle, Paul Hardyman, Titus Bramble, Phil Bardsley, Sessegnon and Cattermole being dismissed from the field of play in derby games; not one of those names belongs to a Newcastle player. The meaning of that is self-evident; sunderland cannot control their players in these games. This season alone Bardsley was sent off for a stamp, Sessegnon for an elbow and Cattermole for an unprovoked foul-mouthed tirade against a referee who’d done his level best amidst the mayhem, even if he missed at least 3 other penalties we should have had.
Laughably Cattermole’s conduct was excused by O’Neill in a post match interview where, summoning up all the traditional Celtic paranoia from his stint in Glasgow , he felt there were “mitigating circumstances.” According to O’Neill, there had been a Newcastle United presence in the referee’s room at half time. John Carver at this point interjected and pointed out, in no uncertain terms, that O’Neill was a liar. Obviously as far as the unwashed goes, if a lie is put out in to the real world, especially if it appears on the internet (the real source of the bile, vitriol and invective that disfigures the game), it becomes a fact; perhaps being caught out was the reason why O’Neill flounced out of Tyneside, preferring instead to make a cowardly interview with local radio on the Tuesday, replete with lies and innuendo.
If you want to see real class and the conduct of perfect gentlemen, seek out the ESPN post-match interview with Shola and Demba Ba. Articulate, incisive, humble and intelligent; these men are a credit to our club and the polar opposite of the scowling, snarling, spitting vermin from down the road.
As a minimum, the FA need to charge sunderland with failing to control their players, while both Campbell and McClean, for his comments on Twitter, should be brought to book. However, this will not be enough; when a sunderland message board contains death threats against Pardew, things really need to stop. Back in 1996, the ban on away fans at derby games allowed for the formation of Wear Fans United to protest against the decision; 16 years on I can see no possible hope of a similar organisation being formed to calm the situation down. However, it has to be said this is not necessary on one side of the divide.
At Newcastle United, we fans police ourselves; we love the club and we respect our history and traditions. The same cannot be said of our local rivals; unless sunderland fans come to their senses and gain a sense of proportion about what is after all only a game of football, people will die on derby day. Those on Wearside must accept that this is where their conduct has them headed; they need a reality check before it is too late.
Remember, it really is only 22 blokes kicking a pig’s bladder around, or 21 blokes if sunderland are playing.
The texts and tweets from those making their way down to Brighton started early. Whether by rail, car, plane or party bus, it seemed as if at least half of those making the trip were letting us know of their progress through the means of technology and what I’ve learned to call social networking sites. Of course we didn’t have such things 30 years back when three dozen of you used to meet up at first light on a Saturday morning outside Leam Lane Club with a bag of cans each, to see if someone had managed to blag a transit from work for the weekend to ferry us in luxury and style to any destination south of Birtley. Generally, the outcome back then would be the same as it was in Sussex by the sea; a swaying mass of half pissed, half radgey Geordies would travel in blind optimism and return, some in mute despair, others seething with anger, after the team meekly fell to defeat.
These days, a cup defeat takes me as long to get over as it took me to flick the telly off that Saturday night. Mind I’d had a busy and disappointing football day; my Over 40s team had lost 4-2 down in Hartlepool and I’d been an unused sub, while Percy Main had squandered 2 points drawing 1-1 at home to Rutherford in the Alliance and then, to top it all, Brighton had rocked us. I’m nearly 50 and feel I have some perspective and distance when it comes to spirit crushing defeats; nothing hurts more than a disconsolate troop back up Wembley Way, other than the events in Blackburn on Easter Monday 1996. As a result, I’ll never go back there again; fair play to the fans who dusted themselves down following the FA Cup exit and immediately started to plan travel arrangements to Ewood Park for the Wednesday.
One of the biggest influences Newcastle United have had on the footballing consciousness of the great British public has been to make an obsession with attendances a compulsory subject of conversation among supporters of all 92 clubs. The renaissance of the club, following Kevin Keegan’s first managerial stint, began twenty years ago now and saw our average crowds double; that is a decent length of time ago (for a start we’ve had 5 general elections since then), but still the mantra is repeated that only 10,004 turned up against Oxford and 7,892 versus Wrexham (even if that was in 1979), so opposing fans feel entitled to ask “where were you when you were shit?” with tedious regularity. Almost as a direct consequence to this, there has been the emergence of a tedious, trainspotter-ish mentality among a certain breed of NUFC fans that see themselves as ultra uber superfans.
I don’t include among this that incredibly dedicated band of long term fans who have seen every single game the club has played for more than 4 decades; fair play to a section of the support who go about their business with quiet determination. Instead, I look at the conspicuous, self-mythologizing cadre of false memory syndrome suffering autodidacts who seem to have elected themselves as an elite group of spokespersons for the rank and file support. For some difficult to discern reason, they need to repeatedly inform us just how good a fan they are because they attend away games; just check their photo albums on Facebook if you don’t believe me.
If there’s a league table of the best supporters of Newcastle United, I’m probably looking at relegation to the Conference. While I still love the club (each league defeat fills me with despair and ruins my day), I have to admit that giving up my season ticket 3 years ago has freed me from the cloak of Gallowgate related depression that had hung heavily across my shoulders since the 2-2 against Leicester City on New Year’s Day 1973 that had marked my first visit to SJP. These days, I get to about 7 home games a season, which I don’t regret, though giving up a freebie for Man Utd to watch Whitley Bay Reserves against Seaton Delaval Amateurs is not perhaps my finest sporting decision. The fact I was able to do that, without thinking twice, shows just how distanced from the club I have become. Whitley Bay won 3-2 incidentally.
One question I need to ask is this; does my lack of emotional and financial involvement in Newcastle United make me a better or worse candidate for the position of Supporters’ Liaison Officer than the person who has not missed a game in years, is attired head to toe in club shop clobber and spends the whole 90 minutes each match day singing “get out of our club?” The answer, even if it also involved other candidates along the lines of the Geordie Dancer, Jimmy Nail or the bloke who stood on the barriers in the Corner and sang “the Little White Bull” every home game, is that it all depends what the job description requires. However, the fact is, the club, to comply with UEFA Fair Play regulations, must have a Supporters’ Liaison Officer in place for the start of the 2012/2013 season.
From my perspective, our fans have never been as united in years as we are now; while NUST has sadly proved itself to be an irrelevance, the Newcastle Fans United alliance, as well as this fanzine, the excellent Black & White Daft, huge numbers of blogs and an ever expanding Twitter community all seem to be pulling together. In all honesty, the song “I don’t care about Ashley; he don’t care about me” has never been more true. Witness the hilarious Darwen End Disco at Blackburn in the League Cup, or the viral spread of “Dreamboat” in relation to Yohan Cabaye; it shows nearly all of us, despite the scowling disapproval of a tiny minority, are travelling in the same direction. What is more, the gentlemen of the Fourth Estate are also with us too. Fans and journalists are not deluding themselves that Newcastle United are about to gate-crash the top 4 before establishing ourselves as a Champions’ League superpower, but all seem to be of the same opinion; Alan Pardew’s doing a good job, the team are performing beyond what we expected and there’s a clear sense of common purpose on the terraces and in the Press Box.
This is all well and good, but does it mean we should agitate for someone from the ranks to be appointed to the post of Supporters’ Liaison Officer, whether that causes them to lay down their flag or laptop to assume such a role? I have to say that from my perspective, I feel the answer is a resounding no. One of the biggest dangers in taking up such a position is in putting one’s head above the parapet. The recent and not so recent past is littered with names of those Newcastle fans that’ve leapt on to the end of the collective NUFC chagrin after accepting the equivalent of the King’s shilling. Certainly I’d imagine our editor has a few tales to tell of his marginalisation when on the NUFC pay-roll a decade or so ago; once bitten, twice shy would probably be a phrase close to his experiences.
Frankly, regardless of the quality of internal candidates our support has to offer (and in the shape of Neil Mitchell and Steve Hastie I could think of no two finer fellas for a job share), I feel that for such a crucial to work, the net must be cast wider. As the job involves liaison between fans and “owners,” rather than simply passing on a list of demands from either side of the divide, diplomacy, tact and experience is needed. For me, the best candidates will be ones who have had no emotional baggage related to Newcastle United, but who know how to get both sides of a debate talking in moderate language. If I’m making it sound like a UN peacekeeper’s role, then I make no apology for that; a sea-green incorruptible with a foot in neither camp and a desire to sell hard decisions to fans and boardroom alike has to be the way forward.
Does such a candidate exist? I hope so; otherwise, the role of Supporters’ Liaison Officer will be debased, whether the eventual incumbent is appointed from the hoi polloi or by grace and favour and an opportunity to make proper progress in breaking down the edifice of mistrust and antagonism that still exists among supporters and the presumed indifference and studied disinclination to cooperate from the owners. Of course, I’ll be happy to do it for £42k per annum, plus expenses; JOKE!!
