Monday, 3 October 2016

Imbarrathin Bodies

Newcastle United have won their last two league games in contrasting ways; however, unlike the team, certain fans really need this international break we have coming up...


How about this as Newcastle United’s starting XI against Brentford next time out: Anita, Atsu, Clark, Colback, Darlow, Diame, Dummett, Gayle, Gouffran, Hanley and Hayden? Or perhaps: Mitrovic, Murphy, Atsu, Sels, Gamez, Tiote, Yedlin, Gouffran, Mbemba and Perez. Neither of them have much to recommend them in terms of balance, positional logic or even probability I’ll admit, which is mainly because the first has been selected purely on alphabetical order and the latter consists of reverse numerical shirt numbers. However, in my defence, I would suggest that my proposals have as much credence and validity as the endless screed of teams chosen by those on social media whose comments and activities suggest they feel they are more suited to the role of manager of Newcastle United than Rafa Benitez.

In the period since the last international break, Newcastle United have played 7 times, including a successful cup tie against a Wolves side who’d done a number on us 4 days prior in the home league game. Of the 18 league points available, the players have accrued 13 by way of a comfortable victory at an impotent Derby County, an absolute thrashing of QPR that was our most emphatic away league win in half a century, a crazy, breathless topsy-turvy comeback triumph against Norwich that will be remembered for decades and a hard-fought three points against Rotherham, not to mention a handy draw at Villa. Or at least that’s my interpretation of events; received ignorance has it that NUFC “played shit” in the Derby and Rotherham wins, “got lucky” against Norwich and were “embarrassing” against Villa. For the purposes of reality, the word should be pronounced “imbarrathin” and spat out of the corner of the gob like a volley of hockle. The main reason for this widespread, nonsensical ire is because several decent chances were missed in B6 that would have put the game to bed, before the home team came back into it during the last half hour. It happens. Shit happens. Gayle is a great Championship striker, but he’s not Diego Costa; sometimes he’ll miss. Sometimes our keeper will miss a cross and the opposition will score, but it’s no need to wish a career-ending injury on him.  

Confession time; I’ll hold my hands up and admit there are a couple of members of the squad I’m not entirely convinced by.  Firstly, Lazaar against Wolves in the League Cup, where I thought his first half performance was up there in lights alongside the finest moments of John Ryan, Celestine Babayaro and Brian Tinnion at left back. It’s the only time we’ve seen him this season; intriguingly, the only time Jesus Gamez has been spotted in public was the round before. A possible explanation for this, as well as the limited number of outings for Mbemba thus far, is Rafa’s stated disinclination to use those whose English skills are wanting on a regular basis. Our manager places enormous emphasis on the importance of on-field communication and I can totally see where he’s coming from as regards the high standards he sets for the team being potentially compromised because of language difficulties.

The other player with whom I have an issue is Mitrovic. For a start I thought Daryl Murphy gave an excellent performance as a target man; happy to play with his back to goal, winning it in the air, holding the ball up and neatly laying it off against Wolves. Secondly, I find it utterly distasteful to see Mitrovic staggering around trying to fight everyone like a pissed grandad on a Magaluf stag weekend. Personally I’ve never been a fan of the Serbian Whitehurst, who has become something of a folk hero to those nascent toughies from Year 8 and Year 9 at Burnside, Churchill and Norham attempting to flex their meagre stores of testosterone to the pocket of Wolves fan in the East Stand / Gallowgate corner at the cup game.  

The youth’s glorification of Mitrovic’s unacceptable braggadocio is the unfortunate and unavoidable product of unchecked, prehistoric attitudes, encapsulated by the older generation’s deification of Paul Gascoigne’s repulsive antics. His latest conviction for racist hate speak has seen an Orwellian interpretation of events, whereby sympathy is not to be given to the humiliated victim of Gascoigne’s crass, offensive utterances, but to the has-been, alcoholic, misogynist on the basis that “he’s one of our own.” Well, he’s not one of mine and I’m disappointed he didn’t get jail time, as it may have shocked him into maturity. Instead, the last we heard of him, he failed to appear at a speaking engagement the other Thursday, preferring to wallow in a lake of booze atop a mountain of self-pity.

Suffice to say while I may groan inwardly and mutter incoherently about Mitrovic’s conduct and remain unconvinced by Lazaar, there is absolutely no way I will resort to screaming tantrums in the ground, or on-line. The abuse Matz Sels encountered after the Villa performance was nothing short of shameful, but predictable among the element of our support that possess an uncontrollable urge to vent immoderate anger in the direction of any player who has the temerity to make a mistake. Behaviour like that is a stain on our club. Somewhat tellingly, those who’ve leaped onto the end of this on-line ire include Rob Elliott and Karl Darlow; both keepers who both rehabilitated themselves with stunning displays after being written off by the soi disant savants wielding bile-dripping smartphones.

There is a fine line between debate and discord; a line that may be less than discernible to the permanently hard of thinking, Carling soaked cretins whose social media presence appears to consist entirely of whining and sniping about the rebuilding job that Rafa has undertaken at Newcastle United. Some people are simply never happy and find complaining meets an elemental need within their psyche. I find debate at any level with such dullards a tiresome, fruitless pursuit, often because those adopting such negative attitudes do so to create a more interesting on-line persona for themselves than the weak, shallow and inadequate excuse for a human being they are in reality.

Recently, I have discerned a dogmatic, inflexible first response to angry posturing that seems to be characterised by a zero tolerance policy to any criticism of NUFC, whether it be shallow bellyaching or more nuanced expressions of doubt. Players, the manager, tactics, performances and the wider cultural life of the club are all beyond discussion, never mind criticism. For instance, I remain to be convinced of the value of the Gallowgate Flags project. To me it seems to be a pale imitation of a tradition among Merseyside football followers, unconvincingly welded to a vague approximation of the continental Ultra culture. I suppose the logic being that Rafa is a Spaniard who managed Liverpool, so he’ll like it. If that’s the case, it seems little different to the baffling Mackem kickstarter project last year to buy Advocaat’s wife bouquets of flowers.

Now while I’m agnostic as to the benefits of this flags carry on, it seems that voicing such an opinion in public (or on social media) is to risk being denounced for treachery and invite a tirade of insults for things you’ve not even thought, never mind said. Several dozen twitterati got on their high horses to give me abuse, presuming I’d said they were lining their own pockets, setting themselves up as super fans, as well as causing us to lose to Huddersfield and Wolves. Best, or worst of all, was my innocent remark that I didn’t realise they’d had a display at the Reading game. Talk about lighting the blue touch paper; the volume of immoderate obloquy surprised even me. Sensitivity seems to be the preserve of the insecure; inventing criticism where none has been made is as ridiculous as the negative posturing of the angry brigade.

Let’s try and learn from the local game. Club N’s supporters are in open revolt; their manager walked out for a job at the ambitious and cash rich Club S. In response Club N’s chairman, who had already driven away some of his closest volunteer acolytes in the summer, gave the job to an unknown from Club W, meaning Club N’s beloved and loyal assistant boss had no choice but to tender his resignation, to the utter fury of Club N’s dwindling bunch of fans, who are already unhappy at the length of time it has taken to build a club house. Meanwhile Club S’s support continues to grow exponentially as their ground and squad are improved in advance of almost certain promotion. However, Club N lead the division by 5 points from Club S. All this shows, life is far more enjoyable with a glass half full view of life.


I think it’s time for everyone who follows NUFC to use this international break for some proper reflection; take a deep breath and look back to where we’ve come from and where we hope to be going. Personally, I believe that is back to the Premier League, but I hope we can all enjoy the journey, whatever our eventual destination.


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