Friday, 29 May 2015

17 Green Fields (And Counting) Part 1

Well, Newcastle somehow managed to stay up, but rather like Chou En Lai's comment in 1972 that it was "too soon to tell" what the influence of the French Revolution was on world events, I'm not turning my thoughts to NUFC just yet. You see, football hasn't gone away you know; there's still Scottish Juniors adventures to tell of, of which more in time, as well as the League of Ireland, which will be blessed by annual presence late July. As a foretaste, here's something I've penned for the Shelbourne fanzine Red Inc; predictably I got carried away and so it's in 2 parts. The second will follow in due course, but here's the stuff from issue #53 -:


PART 1: 1973-1985 (&2004)

The old fella’s family were from Bandon, County Cork so he brought me up on a steady musical diet of The Dubliners and The Clancy Brothers, which sort of made me stand out growing up in Newcastle in the early 1970s, what with being the only 6 year old with a beard and a tin whistle at school. Sports wise, he did his job properly as my first football game (only Tories say soccer in England) was New Year’s Day 1973; Newcastle 2 Leicester 2. I don’t remember a thing about it though, as I was only 8. By the time I turned 9, I started to understand the complexities of the game a bit more and watched in disbelief as England failed to beat Poland, who qualified for the 74 World Cup instead. My dad told me not to be upset, because England were rubbish and that Ireland would beat Poland; sure enough, the following Sunday a Don Givens goal defeated the Poles at Dalier and my international preference was fixed for life. Two points; when Jack Charlton was still kicking fellas up a height in a Leeds jersey, I was supporting the Republic and having played a league game the day before, do you reckon any of the lads selected against Poland whined about having to turn out for their country twenty four hours later? Me neither.

Anyway, a decade later, it was time for me to head to university, to study English Literature.  Naively, or perhaps stupidly, I decided to head to the University of Ulster, leaving on the day Newcastle signed Peter Beardsley and missing out on a glorious promotion campaign. Good job it wasn’t geography I’d chosen, or I’d have realised that Coleraine was about as far as you could get on the island of Ireland, culturally as well, from County Cork. Anyway I had three grand years drinking black porter and reading the occasional book. The only problem was the place effectively opened only 6 days a week as Paisley’s lot held sway in the north and were all for keeping the Sabbath sacred, or boring, depending on your point of view.

Mind Sundays in England until the mid-1990s were a non-event; the bars were shut all afternoon, the shops were closed and if you didn’t have faith (of course I don’t), there was nothing to do. As a kid, I’d read my old fella’s Daily Mirror on a Monday and feel a pang of jealousy for those who lived in rugby league territory and serious envy when I scanned the League of Ireland results. I suppose as a kid I supported whichever Cork team of the time was in L of I, but as the teams from de Banks went out of business on a monthly basis it was hard to develop any strong or lasting affection.  I basically became an interested observer of the fortunes of the league, rather than supporting a particular team.

My introduction to football in Ireland came in autumn 1983 when Coleraine played Sparta Rotterdam in the UEFA cup; not having floodlights, it was a 2.00 kick off on a Wednesday afternoon in front of a crowd of about 3,000, including about 100 crazy Dutch fellas. It was a decent game that ended 1-1, but as Coleraine had lost the first leg 4-0, there was no fairytale.  Because I played on Saturdays, I rarely had the chance to see much Irish League action, though as I didn’t particularly feel attuned to the predominant social demographic of those watching, I didn’t think I was missing out; a decision confirmed by a visit to Coleraine 1 Cliftonville 2 later that season. I think you can probably guess as to the nature of the comments aimed at the visiting players and supporters.

However, the 1985 renaissance of Derry City, whose expulsion from the Irish League was viewed as reasons for boycotting the competition by all football fans from the nationalist community, gave me a chance to experience League of Ireland football for the first time, as these games were on a Sunday. One of the lads I knocked around with, a Spurs fan, owned a car and so a crowd of us piled in up to Brandywell to see the a team in red and white shirts thump a team in black and white by 3-0, as Derry triumphed over Newcastle United, as Newcastlewest called themselves in that debut season of the First Division. Strangely, no-one in the Bogside that November afternoon gave four blokes with English accents hassle, as the fact we dressed like tramps and had haircuts that resembled a Jesus and Mary Chain tribute band meant we clearly weren’t squaddies. That and the fact none of us had taches. When the locals found out I was supporting the hapless away side, they viewed us more with pity than suspicion. A few of the Derry fans we’d chatted to that day reacted with stunned disbelief a few weeks later when we turned up in Ballybofey on the Sunday before Christmas to see the Candystripes play in the inaugural North West derby at Finn Park. This time, we were all supporting Derry, which was just as well as they ran out 7-2 winners in a crazy game, which was the last one I saw while living in Ulster (by that I mean the whole province and not just the Six Counties), as I graduated in 1986.

I’ve been back a couple of times to the north, but only once during the football season. I took a trip to Belfast for my 40th birthday in August 2004 and, having done the bus tour and all that, I headed for Solitude to see Cliftonville draw 1-1 in League Cup group game with Limavady United, managed by current St Johnstone boss and former Newcastle keeper Tommy Wright.  Despite a rather fetching Bobby Sands mural on the gable end of an adjacent house, this wasn’t a particularly political event, as most of the local yahoos were ensconced in the bar, guzzling pints and watching a dodgy stream of Celtic against Kilmarnock, while about 400 of us sweltered on the baking terraces as a somnolent dead rubber was played out in near silence. I must admit, I’m not in a hurry to see many other Irish League games, though my mate Mick (a Geordie living in Paisley) has become a distant, but regular, supporter of Bangor, probably because St Mirren are so bad…

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