Toxic Shock

The other day I was having a chat on social media with a bloke called Peter Whitfield. Nice lad; never had a cross word with him, so I respected his comment that my opinions aren’t representative of the wider Newcastle United fanbase. I thought about this and replied that as I’m a published poet, a lifelong supporter of the impossibilist position of the Socialist Party of Great Britain and companion parties in the World Socialist Movement, a zealous opponent of both toxic masculinity and the patriarchal narrative, not to mention an unapologetic contrarian who is educated to Master’s degree level, I have to agree with him. However, it is my contention that NUFC would be vastly improved if there were more supporters like me about. Peter said I’d just talked myself out of a dinner party invite to his place; we laughed and left it there.

While the above exchange can be described as semi serious at most, there is a kernel of truth at its heart; many of my social attitudes and the values I hold may be dismissed by those whose opinions vary, as wilful contrarianism. However, to do so would be wrong; the belief system I’ve developed has been rigorously applied in order to ensure I am in constant opposition to macho posturing and all manifestations of phallocentrism.

To illustrate this, I initially considered making a list of those, overwhelmingly male, public figures I find most distasteful, but this is more about ideas than personalities. Consequently, I have compiled an alphabet of attitudes, behaviours and items I regard as examples of toxic masculinity, which I’d like to dedicate to Ian MacKaye, Grayson Perry and John Stoltenberg -:

A is for Alopoecia: Too much testosterone causes a thinning thatch, which is often shaved by those who wish to act the chap, with or without legitimate cause.

B is for Bullying: The default stance of the terminally hard of thinking when out of their comfort zone. Threatening behaviour by any other name.

C is for Chunky Italian Knitwear: Massimo Osti turns in his grave as another self-mythologising middle-aged toughie turns up at the bar pre-match in a snide SI gansey

D is for Dogs: Whether bred for the purpose of social intimidation on urban streets or rural barbarity, these animals are bad to the bone. Avoid.

E is for Expletives: The untrammelled use of curses and taboo words shows a lack of breeding at best. Their use in inappropriate settings compounds the crime.

F is for Fisticuffs: Whether in the bar or boxing room, any man who hits another man is a boor, a braggart and a bully.

G is for Golf: The Tory Party at play. The most ludicrous dress code imaginable.

H is for Heterosexism: Not just homophobia, but the veneration of male dominion over females. The macho detestation of love.

I is for Internet Trolling: The key behaviour of the cyber barbarian. A virtual space to gang up and persecute anyone who thinks differently to you.

J is for Jackets: The more expensive the better. Half a grand minimum is easily affordable if you’re 43 and still living in a rented box or at your mam’s.

K is for Knuckles: Dragging along the floor or clenched to make a frightening fist

L is for Lager: White power in a glass. Fosters is Pegida peeve.

M is for Motor Cars: Penis replacements for the socially inadequate. As bad as Golf.

N is for Nationalism: Union Jacks in the garden and on the Motor Car. Help for Heroes hoodies and metal poppy pin badges all year round. Makes me ill.

O is for On-Line Gambling: Whether it’s football, horses or poker, it’s another posturing approach to the interpretation of maleness I reject.

P is for Poppies:  Less than a decade ago, they were optional. Now there’s an annual witch hunt directed towards James MacClean and insidious media pressure to accept the narrative that venerating the military is essential behaviour.

Q is for Queen Elizabeth: A parasite. Get her in the cellar with the Romanoffs.

R is for Reputation: I wish I’d had a quid for every radgie whose screed of empty threats began with “do you know who I am?”

S is for Ska: The irony of Jamaican working-class music being appropriated as the soundtrack of the ageing racist dregs of white slum society seems lost on the lumpens.

T is for Tattoos: They look common on women, but even worse on men. See also Tabs.

U is for Unforgiven: “That Corbyn supports the IRA,” except that he didn’t, and they’ve been at peace this entire millennium anyway.

V is for Violence: Implied or actual, it is the preserve of evil men.

W is for Watches: Not to tell the time. Just to imply status. As bad as Motor Cars and Golf.

X is for Xenophobia: The default philosophical position of toxic males everywhere.

Y is for Yobs: They grow into Men.

Z is for Zeugma: tough guys carrying a grudge and a concealed weapon.

The Last Round Up

I’m not in the business of making resolutions for the future; I’d rather call them plans. As you’d expect there’s a few, related mainly to maintaining my mental well-being via sporting activity as both an observer and participant, with the creative urge featuring pretty strongly as well, but they’ll remain unsaid for a multiplicity of reasons. Looking back on 2018, it amazes me how I’ve got to the end of it in one piece, considering the queasy and unpredictable rollercoaster ride the year involved. I’ve documented events in detail on here, but the ease and speed with which I fell off the precipice of normal society into a world of debt, despair and the dehumanising effects of benefit culture was terrifying to endure. Thankfully, I have wonderful friends who intervened to save me from the pit of despair and for that I’ll be eternally grateful, as from from November onwards a kind of tranquil, gnostic calm has blanketed my life that I sincerely hope continues into 2019.

Of course, tragically, others have had it considerably worse; my heart goes out at this time to Bethan and Janine, as well as Kenny and family, bereft in the aftermath of tragic events that have left them repeatedly asking but unable to answer why, as they stare at the bleakness of unimaginable personal losses. I offer you my love; it isn’t any consolation, but it is all I have to give, and I mean it with every fibre of my being.

Musically, the loss of Mark E Smith back in January hit me hard; the realisation of just how much The Fall had meant to for 2 decades or more came rushing back, following the legendary autodidactic curmudgeon’s passing. On a smaller scale, the death of Pete Shelley at the other end of the year was a sad blow, considering how Spiral Scratch was the first English record that made me sit up and take notice of the Punk movement. While I could take or leave both the releases and many of the regular live performances of The Buzzcocks post reformation (though the December 89 show at Newcastle Uni and the July 2011 Mouth of the Tyne extravaganza at Tynemouth Priory, which I was lucky enough to see with Ben, were tremendous afternoons), there were some incredible highlights on the various releases that the dull, mid-paced Diggle plodders didn’t diminish. Pete Shelley was a thoughtful, articulate and perceptive songwriter; he combined an ear for a catchy tune, or a powerful insistent homage to his beloved Krautrock influences, with poetic lyrics that challenged and defeated the dismal machismo that infected so much of what was called Punk.  A memory I will treasure forever if his a capella renditions of What Do I Get? and Oh Shit at John Peel’s 50^th Birthday Party at Subterrania in Ladbroke Grove in August 1989. In chronological order, try this Shelley only Buzzcocks playlist as a tribute to the man -:

-          Time’s Up

-          Boredom

-          What Do I Get?

-          Oh Shit

-          Moving Away from the Pulse Beat

-          Love You More

-          ESP

-          Why Can’t I Touch It?

-          Something’s Gone Wrong Again

-          You Say You Don’t Love Me

-          I Believe

Staying with music, my desire for completeness and order has inspired me to write this blog, as there are elements of both live and recorded music that I’ve failed to review so far this year. Firstly, a couple of Tynemouth Market purchases. I’m a sucker for a prog rock bargain and so when I saw the chance of the Island Records sampler Nice Enough to Eat, nestling in the 2 for £5 rack alongside Rod and The Faces live album Overture and Beginners, I dug deep and got the two of them. The Faces album is in pristine condition, which doesn’t surprise me as, aside from a killer version of Jimi’s Angel, it stinks. Self-indulgent, pompous quasi karaoke takes on soul classics besmirch the grooves; I think I’ll stick with studio stuff instead, because the discipline of the recording booth is sadly absent in this smug and dull collection of landfill rhythm and blues.

Nice Enough to Eat has quality running through it like a stick of seaside rock. The opening number is Cajun Woman by Fairport from Unhalfbricking, so I was a willing convert from the get go. Other absolute standout cuts include Time Has Told Me by Nick Drake and the de rigeur excess of 21^st Century Schizoid Man by King Crimson, which is almost outdone for pantomime excess by the faux Indian pretension of Quintessence’s  Gungamai and the studious, po-faced solemnity of I Keep Singing the Same Old Song by Heavy Jelly. Well worth two and a half quid of anyone’s money, even if it sounds like it’s been recorded in a chip shop.

Coming back from Teenage Fanclub in Glasgow at the end of October, I picked up a copy of The Wire to keep me entertained on the train back. Appended to the cover was a compilation CD called Wire Tappers, which I finally got around to listening to in the second week of December. I’m not sure I’ll listen to it again, as I’m not that much of a fan of the post music genre that this appears to proselytise. Truly, it’s very samey; electronic ambient bleeps cover most of the disc, though Jef Brown’s effects pedal drenched guitar histrionics are well worth a second go, especially if you like the idea of Thurston Moore paying tribute to Eddie van Halen. Goodie Pal and Pals are a collection of screaming ladies, deeply influenced by No Wave to the extent they kick its corpse up and down the road for a few pleasantly unpleasant minutes.  Tomasz Darbrowski on the saxophone indulges in a kind of free jazz wig out that the Fast Show used to parody; I’m not sure if it is the response he was aiming for, but it really made me laugh.

So, despite the paucity of my purchases in 2018, here’s my scanty, best of list of new releases -:

1.      Trembling Bells – Dungeness

2.      The Mekons – It Is Twice Blessed

3.      Alasdair Roberts – What News?

4.      Pete Astor – One for the Ghost

5.      Yo La Tengo – There’s A Riot Going On

6.      L-Space – Kipple Arcadia

And here’s a rundown of the re-releases and oddities I got hold of in 2018 -:

1.      Mogwai – Ten Rapid

2.      Candy Opera – 45 Revolutions Per Minute

3.      The Door and The Window – Detailed Twang

4.      The Burning Hell – Library

5.      Alasdair Roberts – Pangs

6.      Various – Nice Enough to Eat

7.      Swell Maps – Wastrels and Whippersnappers

8.      Euros Childs – House Arrest

9.      The Fall – New Facts Emerge

10.  Rod Stewart and The Faces – Overtures and Beginners

Lastly, the various EPs and singles look like this -:

1.      Alternative TV – Dark Places

2.      Us and Them – Fading Within the Dwindling Sun

3.      The Burning Hell – Men Without Hats

4.      Bandit / Ground - Noise

Finally, what about the gigs I saw this year? Going back to the financial problems alluded to in the opening paragraph, I had the awful situation of having to pass up on seeing The Nightingales, as I simply didn’t have any money. Ironically, I had to miss my first Vic Godard performance on Tyneside, after an unbroken recording of seeing him stretching back to 1978, on account of the fact I was working the night he played the Star and Shadow; it concerns me that I may be forced to pass up the chance of seeing more live performances I’d regard as essential viewing in the future. Indeed, having failed to see Hector Gannet at The Wheel House on the Fish Quay on Black Eye Friday, on account of a misunderstanding with stage times and capacity, I was crushed to discover I can’t even get to see the second showing of the same set at the same venue on January 4^th as I’m at graft, which rankles more than a bit. Consequently, I’ll be studiously searching for Saturday and Sunday gigs in future, which is why I’ve already got BMX Bandits briefs for May 18^th at the Head of Steam.

The one gig I did manage to get to since I last wrote about music, was The Burning Hell at Cluny 2 in early December, along with my pal Brendan Oswald, who was back in the country on one of his all too infrequent visits from Slovakia. The Burning Hell was a name that meant little to me, but as Brendan raved about them, having travelled to the gig hotspot (not really) of Banksa Stiavnica to see them, I thought I’d give them a go. Very pleasant they are too; a combination of Yo La Tengo and King Missile. Serious tributes to rock classics rub shoulders with whimsical story ditties. They are, as could be guessed by their diffidence and studied nerdery, Canadian. This manifests itself by cultural references to Men Without Hats, Degrassi Junior High and other Canuck cultural highlights. I bought copies of their charming Library CD and Men Without Hats 7” and I’m very glad I did. The Burning Hell is a name that is totally unfitting to their style of music, but that’s what makes them all the more entertaining; expect the unexpected should be their catchphrase.

Looking back though, here are the 14 gigs I did attend, in order of enjoyment -:

1.      The Mekons; Leeds Brudenell Social Club, April.

2.      British Sea Power; Boiler Shop, November.

3.      Teenage Fanclub; Glasgow Barrowlands, October.

4.      Mogwai; Northumbria University, February.

5.      Trembling Bells; Cumberland Arms, July.

6.      Band of Holy Joy; Tynemouth Club, July.

7.      Three Queens in Mourning; Star & Shadow, October.

8.      The Vaselines; Star & Shadow, August.

9.      Michael Head; The Cluny, July.

10.  The Burning Hell; Cluny 2, December.

11.  Pete Astor; The Cumberland, March.

12.  The Wedding Present; Academy, June.

13.  Brix & The Extricated; Star & Shadow, November.

14.  Willie Mason; The Cluny, September.

See you in 2019; go easy...step lightly...stay free…

Spartan Northern Athenians

Back in June, when the Northern League had a full complement of 20 clubs in Division 1, everyone knew the fixture list announced at the AGM would bear little resemblance to the eventual pattern of play over the coming months; cup commitments, weather issues and other factors would all combine to alter the initial schedule. What none of us considered were the effects of unexpected resignations of AFC Blyth and Team Northumbria, perforce resulting in 4 enforced blank weekends. By early December, my beloved Benfield had endured two spare Saturdays; firstly September 22^nd saw me at North Shields Athletic 3 Spittal Rovers 4, while October 27^th enabled me to watch Whitley Bay 1 Ashington 1 in the most rancid contest I’ve endured all season.

The jiggling around with games following our progress into the last 32 of the FA Vase presented another window of opportunity on Saturday 15^th December. Being gainfully employed once more and having a few bob in my pocket, I knew there was only one possible location; Scotland. Last season, I’d taken in Morton on January 2^nd, Stenhousemuir in late March and bagged my usual Juniors brace at Cumnock and Glasgow Perthshire in June. Sadly, a freakish calendar for the Festive Period has caused the SPFL to decide against a January 2^nd fixture card, so I needed to seize this opportunity.

A quick skeg of the fixture list told me of games at Kilmarnock, St Johnstone and St Mirren in the Premier League, Ayr and Inverness in the Championship, Forfar and Stranraer in League 1 and Edinburgh City, Peterhead and Stirling Albion in League 2 at places there were doors I’d never darkened. Reasons of distance ruled out Inverness, Stranraer and Peterhead. Similarly, prohibitively expensive train tickets up the West Coast line and north of Fife did for the three top flight clashes, plus Ayr and Forfar. The one that really tickled my fancy was Stirling Albion against Albion Rovers; at the time of checking, they were the two bottom teams in the division, but the predictable and indeed reliable incompetence of Berwick Rangers allowed Stirling to move away from the foot of the table. Nevertheless, the thought of visiting the Forthbank Stadium was particularly appealing, especially as I could take a photo of the nearby supermarket and truthfully say I’d been to see Stirling Morrisons…

I like to think I do my research about these trips; visiting Stirling would tick off another area of Scotland as I made it to my 20^th ground in the SPFL. However, I had made the terrible error of failing to note that Stirling no longer had a 4G pitch, having switched back to grass a couple of seasons ago. Having blithely adopted insouciant indifference to the ever more frequent and apocalyptic weather forecast for the weekend, news that an 11.30 pitch inspection was being called for set my panic levels to amber, as I took the Metro to Central Station, which began to fill up quickly with members of Ashley’s Army on their way to Huddersfield. Of course, I was left with another option; Edinburgh City, whose supposedly permanent home of Meadowbank Stadium is closed for a thorough refurbishment for an unspecified period, groundshare with Spartans at Ainslie Park in the leafy northern suburbs. It isn’t just the fact water surrounds half of the capital city, making it a couple of degrees warmer than the chilly Central Belt, but the fact Ainslie Park has a 4G surface that ensured I’d have a game to see.

An insanely packed train to Waverley meant I had no option but to stand in the middle of the carriage the whole way there, meaning I was unable to keep a check on climactic developments on my phone. Detraining just after noon brought the inevitable news, both official and unofficial, that Stirling v Albion was off because of a frozen pitch. There was nothing for it, but to head through Stocksbridge and Pilton to the capital city’s newest league side.

On a freezing but dry afternoon where dense, low clouds prevented actual daylight ever becoming an issue, Princes Street was packed; the gardens boasted a Christmas fun fair and literally thousands of happy families were making the most of time together. Despite the brutal, repressive regime of Jeanette Mugabe’s SNP controlling every aspect of their citizens’ lives, the Scotch are a joyous, unruly contrast to the Brexit ruined English, wheezing asthmatically between the Labour Exchange and Wetherspoons, exchanging Universal Credit beer vouchers for Carling, while offering unfocussed imprecations to Yaxley Lennon’s DFLA StoneIslandabteilung, begging them to evict the very foreign nationals whose labours oil the wheels of the benefits bandwagon. I mused about how the Scotch will undoubtedly have thousands of bourgeois intellectual refugees from south of the border to deal with once Yaxley Lennon’s Khmer Bleu assume control post Brexit, as I paced the solemn squares and prim terraces of the New Town, passing but not stopping in the artisan delis and craft ale palaces athwart the Water of Leith, while the biting wind bitterly assailed me. Soon, I headed out past the playing fields of Fettes College, the alma mater of the war criminal Blair, where rugby games were taking place. At the end of the greensward I came to Ferry Road, took a left, then a right past Morrisons (not Stirling Morrisons of course) and found myself at Ainslie Park.

If I’m being honest, there wasn’t a scrum to get in, and I could have killed time by watching a Spartans youth side in action on the adjoining training pitch, but the thought of a pint and a sit down appealed more than anything else, so I paid my £12 and ascended the stairs to quaff half a gallon of Caledonian Edinburgh Castle; a red ale, but without the unpleasant malt notes that normally prevents me from enjoying this kind of beer. Worth it for £3 a pint and the chance to do a double take as Jim Jeffries, the Edinburgh City Director of Football, walked past. I wondered what he’d made of the 5 goals that Hearts had conceded in 17 minutes to Livingston the night before, but lacked the courage to ask. Despite feeling like a snooze after my third beer, I wrapped up and took my place at the bottom right end of the ground, as the players emerged with the lights already on at kick off.

Ainslie Park reminds me of grounds I’ve been to in Slovakia and the Czech Republic; the club buildings behind one goal, the stand half the length of one side and nothing much anywhere else, but with modernist architectural features along the other touchline; flats, offices or possibly both. Impossible to tell as few lights came on, unlike the freeloading onlookers in the row of stone semi-detached houses behind the far goal, where several lights burned continuously from the interested residents of back bedrooms with a grandstand view.  It was a game worth watching. Edinburgh City are top of the table and Elgin offered little to stop them. Strangely, it was only 1-0 at half time, courtesy of a tap-in from a well worked move. As is the case with synthetic pitches, the home team are used to them and utilise the opportunities for slick, ball-to-feet play in a highly advantageous manner. Elgin were baffled by the true bounce, repeatedly overhitting balls and trying to lump it at any given opportunity.

The surprising thing was that it remained only 1-0 on the hour. Astonishingly it then became 1-1, when home keeper Antell got in a dreadful muddle in his 6 yard area, with the ball stuck between his feet, allowing Rabin Omar to tap in from almost on the line. Simultaneously, club volunteers were weaving in and out of the sparse knots of punters offering remaindered pies for free. Despite my misgivings, as I’m sure that are plenty of homeless back down on the Royal Mile who could have done with a bit to eat, I gorged on a chicken Balti Scotch pie. The glutinous crust no doubt stuck in the collective craw of the home faithful, as the farcical equaliser went in.

Fair play to City, they didn’t allow this setback to ruin their concentration. To the delight of the vast majority of the 258 crowd, including the seemingly compulsory pre-pubescent choir and a drummer, not to mention the de rigeur par of portly daft laddies in SI big coats, Allan Smith soon restored the lead with a sumptuous bending effort from outside the angle of the box. Elgin threw the towel in at this point; probably a bad move with sharpened bullets of rain, assisted by gusting wind, battering their faces. It proved the necessary encouragement required for City to go for the jugular and Blair Henderson helped himself to 2 further goals. The final whistle saw City 5 points clear at the top, as Peterhead were left idle by the weather.

I stiff legged it to the bus stop, caught a 28 back to town, learned NUFC had won 1-0 at Huddersfield and celebrated with a pair of blinding pints of Orkney IPA in The Guild Ford, before catching a few stolen moments shut-eye on the mainly empty train back down south. At Central, the same formerly nervous NUFC away travellers from the morning were returning, full of beer and bonhomie. I was delighted for them, but I’m no longer one of them. My home was the compulsory pint of Bass back in The Lodge and the nightcap growler of Tiny Dancer my dearest Laura had prepared earlier for me. Beer and groundhopping; the perfect ingredients for a December Saturday. Let’s hope the same can be said on February 23^rd, when I am next scheduled to be in Bella Caledonia.

Lionhearted

Following on from last week's general Northern League analysis, this time around there is a Q&A interview I did with Football Focus magazine about my beloved Newcastle Benfield FC -:

1.      How long have you been involved and what first attracted you to the club?

Speaking personally, I first became a supporter of Benfield in September 2003, which was the start of the club’s first season in the Northern League. Back then I was still a Newcastle United season ticket holder, but because of some game or other being moved for Sky, I had a spare Saturday, so I took a wander down to my nearest Northern League side and saw a thumping 4-1 win over Thornaby in the FA Vase. The game was great; the welcome warm and genuine, so a bond was formed. After about a decade as a fan, I then stepped up to become programme editor. I’ve not regretted it for one second.

2.      What are the most challenging and rewarding aspects of your role?

I regard being involved with a club that I love with every fibre of my being as an absolute honour. I am proud beyond words to have this role and would love to do it for as long as I’m needed. Everything to do with editing the programme brings me rewards; even the challenges involving deadlines, such as 6 home games in 21 days at the end of 2017/2018, are positive experiences.

3.      How’s the general mood down at the club at the moment?

At the time of writing, we’ve gone 11 games unbeaten and have won our last 7 in a row, so the atmosphere is pretty positive round Sam Smith’s Park. We have a superb squad of lads, blending experience, youth, craft, guile and skill. The manager, Tom Wade, is an experienced and astute tactician who shows every indication of taking the club not just forward, but onwards and upwards.

4.      How would you say the season has gone so far for the club?

Expectations were high at the start of the season, as we’d signed a raft of excellent players to complement the vast majority of last season’s squad. Sadly, things didn’t gel, for whatever reason. We simply couldn’t score enough goals and suffered several narrow defeats. Previous boss Mark Convery and his assistant Craig Heward, who’d done a great job for 3 years, simply felt they couldn’t take the club and further and left in early October. Since then, Tom has come in with his assistant Ross McKay and our fortunes have turned around. Of course, we’re deeply grateful to Mark and were sad to see him go.

5.      What are your plans for the rest of the campaign?

Currently, we’re 7^th in the league, have made it to the last 32 of the FA Vase with a home tie against Northwich Victoria to come, as well as still being in the Northern League Cup and Northumberland Senior Cup. After the slow start we had, we couldn’t wish to be in a better position with 2019 on the horizon. I think it is fair to say, everyone at the club would love a cup final and, hopefully, some silverware at the end of it.

6.      How important is youth football to the club?

It is essential. Benfield have a proud reputation for junior football sides, both boys and girls from U8s upwards. We try to involve the youngsters from the earliest levels, by making them matchday mascots, encouraging parents and families as a whole to attend our games. Also, we host all social events and training on the pitches adjacent to our ground, utilising the clubhouse and related facilities as a hub for everyone under the Benfield umbrella to feel at home in. 

7.      How do you ensure that young players enjoy a smooth transition into the senior game?

             This season we are running a reserve side in the Tyneside Amateur League.        Obviously, the football is a good few levels than the first team operate at, but it gives a sense of the kind of organic progression we are looking for, by providing a potential pathway from mini soccer for 7-year olds, through to the first team. It is both a challenge for and an ambition of the club going forwards.

8.      Would you consider yours to be a community club?

A very interesting question, which depends on your definition of “community.” If we are talking about a geographical location, then emphatically not, as Benfield is a road with a large school on one side and a hospital on the other, with a light industrial estate behind it. Of course, that is a simplistic definition as we are most definitely the go to club for everyone in the east end of Newcastle, drawing support from Heaton, Byker, Walker, Wallsend and even the Coast. We’ve got volunteers from 18 to 80, in the shape of our young kit man Bailey O’Brien and our legendary trainer Derek Gair, who has devoted more than 60 years of his life to football in this area.  Recently, we’ve totally refurbished our club house and revamped our catering facilities. The bar is open most nights and gets pleasantly full on a Friday night. We offer superb Sunday lunches, which we’ll even deliver if you so ask. Indeed, we are delighted to be able to host a free Christmas lunch for the elderly, staffed entirely by club volunteers, including delivery drivers for those old folks who can’t easily get about. Incidentally, if all this talk of food and drink is making you feel a little stuffed, there is our fantastically well-appointed, competitively priced gym on site; take it from me, they can sort out even the most slothful of us.

9.      What do you believe could be some of the biggest challenges the club may face in the coming years?

Last season, our groundsman Stan Thompson, who performs miracles with our pitch, would have said Mother Nature as the elements played havoc with the pitch and fixture list. Obviously, we have to take the endless search for new supporters and generous sponsors as a given task, not to mention the desire to find the best players possible to wear the blue and white of Benfield. However, the real elephant in the room is the FA enforced restructuring of football at our level and the one above, which will come into effect at the end of the 2019/2020 season. Despite the proximity of the date, details are sketchy, but it seems up to a dozen clubs from the Northern League may well be forcibly promoted a level, into a league that would stretch as far south as Doncaster. If this involves Benfield, and there is every indication it will, then the whole ethos of the grassroots game in this region will be affected, not just us.

10. What are the club’s ambitions for the next 5 years?

Notwithstanding the intangible elements bound up in my previous answer, I think everyone at Benfield would say the same thing; to cement our place as the number one non-league club in Newcastle, playing the best kind of football at the highest levels possible, for all ages. In short, we want the whole community north of the Tyne to be as proud of Benfield as possible.

18 in the hole

The Football Pink asked me to cast a weather eye over the future prospect of the Northern League; so I did. No apologies for concentrating on Division 1 -:

On Saturday 1^st December 2018, I think I saw possibly the most enthralling, passionate and exhilarating game of football in my entire life. The contest was an FA Vase Third Round tie, played in front of 153 spectators at Sam Smith’s Park, between my beloved Newcastle Benfield of the Northern League Division 1 and Runcorn Town of the North West Counties League Premier Division, with a place in the last 32 of the national competition for grassroots sides from step 5 downwards at stake.

The final score was Benfield 5 Runcorn 4, with the winner being an unstoppable 20-yard strike from the home side’s midfielder Ritchie Slaughter that arrowed into the top corner of the net, beyond the despairing leap of Runcorn keeper Adam Reid. It was the last kick of the game, bringing unrestrained joy to the faithful denizens of the east end of Newcastle and despair to the visitors from Cheshire. There were no tears, no recriminations and no gloating when the final whistle sounded seconds after Slaughter’s Exocet nestled in the goal. Instead, as is de rigeur in 99% of non-league games, the victors were gracious, and the losers dignified. I wouldn’t have anything to do with the grassroots game if it were ever any other way.

Once the hurly burly had been done, the battle lost and won, not to mention several dozen warm handshakes exchanged, it was time to sit awhile in the clubhouse bar and reflect on the day’s events. I bought Ritchie Slaughter a pint and gave him a hug. I’d estimate a good 50% of our support stayed back to mingle and bevvy, congratulating those who’d played, geeing up the crestfallen unused subs who hung around like forgotten wallflowers at a high school prom, as well as commiserating with the losers who’d played a vital part in the day. This happens after every game, though the football isn’t often as spellbinding as this. Meanwhile, 3 miles to the west, 50,000 willing financial backers and emotional contributors to Mike Ashley’s circus at St. James watched in mute disgruntlement as West Ham flayed Rafa Parditez’s bumblers 3-0. Apparently 400 or so malcontents had walked in after 11 minutes in some kind of bizarre and poorly observed protest at the owner, at the very moment Javier Hernandez put the Irons ahead. You really couldn’t make it up, could you?

Meanwhile as the dust settled and the away players and support headed home on the same bus, with our best wishes for the rest of the season and a massive carry out to soothe the pain, it was time to reflect on scores elsewhere. The FA Vase has almost been the exclusive property of the Northern League this past decade. Whitley Bay, who’d already won it back in 2002, reeled off a triple crown of victories from 2009 to 2011. Subsequent winners have included Dunston UTS, North Shields, Spennymoor, Morpeth Town and South Shields, with West Auckland (twice; including once to Dunston) and Stockton Town losing in the final. It is not just an enviable record, it is a scarcely believable tale of regional dominance so total that it appears the FA have sought, by fair means or foul, to destroy the influence, scope and strength of the semi-professional north east powerhouse, by introducing reorganisation that will involve compulsory promotion; if refused, relegation will be the mandatory alternative. Consequently, there has already been upward mobility in the shape of progressive and ambitious Spennymoor, South Shields and Morpeth taking their leave. Indeed, Spennymoor have gone up 3 divisions and South Shields 2, while Morpeth head the Evostik First Division East and look set to keep their momentum going.

Unsurprisingly, FA Vase results elsewhere told tales of victories for West Auckland, Hebburn Town (away to Stockton Town) and Sunderland RCA (away to a Shildon side that had beaten them 12 times in a row before this one). The FA’s preference for regionalised draws has resulted in early rounds of the Vase seeming akin to a rebranded version of the Northern League Cup. Hence 4 out of 32 survivors is probably par for the course over the last few years and, in this instance, the most that could have been there bearing in mind the draw. And yet, there is the sense that 2018/2019 could be the last hurrah for the Northern League as we currently know it, for a multiplicity of reasons, including the fact that Sunderland RCA v West Auckland was first tie out the hat, but not least of which are the effects of compulsory promotion and possible lateral movement for geographical reasons but, above all, the spectre of league reorganisation scheduled for 2020.

The constitution of the Northern League used to provide for a maximum of 22 clubs in each division. However, having seen the cumulative results of resignations, increasingly wet winters and unavoidable cash shortages, clubs voted at an EGM two years ago to limit membership in each league to 20. As a result, the end of the 2017/2018 season saw champions Marske United and runners-up Morpeth Town promoted. Sadly, this also meant Alnwick Town and Darlington Railway Athletic were demoted to the Northern Alliance and Wearside League respectively, with the latter’s champions Redcar Athletic taking their place. As things stand, the Northern League Division 2 has 20 competing clubs, with the bottom club definitely dropping out at the end of the season. However, it isn’t simply a case of the relevant feeder league champs stepping up in their place, as the FA’s regulations allow for direct election of “suitable applicants.” The implications of this are currently intangible, but the suspicion is that step 7 leagues, like the Alliance and the Wearside, are being effectively downgraded to little more than recreational kickabouts in public parks. Personally, I think that stinks, but it is undeniable that the standard of football in the Northern League Second Division is generally inferior. Supporters of clubs at this level may have iconic grounds, oozing history and atmosphere from every splintered seat and crumbling concrete step, but even the most blinkered, beer-goggled partisan must recognise that the football they watch is obviously a step down from the top tier clubs who are looking to progress.

In my eyes, the Northern League First Division is not only the best value football competition, pound for pound, in the country, it is home to the highest playing standards I’ve ever seen in more than quarter of a century of watching the game at this level. Grounds are uniformly excellent; safe, well-maintained and improving year on year. Even better, the actual product just gets better every year; fast-paced, skilful football played on the deck, almost always to feet is the order of the day. Tactics, pitches and the players themselves have evolved at an astonishing pace over the past few seasons. Unfortunately, I do not believe this current happy situation is sustainable once the FA’s proposals come fully on stream as, in their desire for uniformity, the Northern League will cease to exist in its current form., or in any meaningful form

The FA’s plans are for a neat, tightly-organised and obediently regimented non-league pyramid that starts with 1 division at the top (the National League) and is then followed by 2, 4, 8 and 16 divisions at each successive step downwards. This latter level is where the Northern League Division One sits. The elephant currently reversing into the north east room is the filling of the currently empty berth for an eighth step 4 league in 2020/2021. Undoubtedly, this will involve a third, parallel division in the Northern Premier League and a whole panoply of rejigging and lateral movement. Currently there are 2, entitled west and east, but a third division, known probably as south or central, will comprise clubs from Nottinghamshire, Leicestershire and Lincolnshire. Hence, the east division will need to be populated with 20 new clubs, who have to come from somewhere. While this appears to be chance for a great leap forward by the Northern Counties East, it is more of a leap into the dark for the geographically isolated Northern League, whose members were unhappy at the inevitably increased travel costs. The FA’s response? Tough. In their eyes, they’ve compromised sufficiently to make this new league an attractive prospect for teams from north of the Tees; they’ve reduced the divisions to 20 and have promised no scheduled midweek league games, but is that enough to persuade suitable potential members to get on board? I’m conflicted; as a devotee of the Northern League, I would hate to see almost 130 years of tradition swept away by removing the best clubs, on and off the pitch, and weakening the standard of the competition. However, as a supporter of Benfield, I would love to see my club playing at the highest level possible. If that means leaving the Northern League, then so be it.

Of course, any feelings of unease should be tempered by the realisation that things are already starting to change in the Northern League Division 1. While there ought to be 20 clubs in the top flight, there are actually only 18. We’ve already seen how Marske and Morpeth have gone up and thrived at a higher level. Sadly, others have gone west; Jarrow Roofing packed in at the end of last season, partly because they seemed destined for relegation, but mainly because their manager and owner Richie McLaughlin was exhausted after giving more than 30 years of his life building the club up from Sunday morning football and fancied taking it easy as he embraced the realities of life as a septuagenarian. Ironically, Team Northumbria, on account of the University who sponsored them making swingeing budgetary cuts to all areas of campus life that weren’t strictly academic, resigned after the Northern League AGM, which would have saved Jarrow Roofing from demotion after all. Then, the farcical situation regarding AFC Blyth finally unravelled in a predictably farcical manner. A club with neither a ground nor any support, who’d split from their well-respected parent institution Blyth Town for scarcely credible reasons, and were playing home games at Ashington, called it a day in early September, meaning the top flight is running 2 clubs short. At the end of this season 2 other clubs will leave. The top side must be promoted, and the bottom must be relegated. Currently Penrith, who live every season under the shadow of enforced lateral movement to the North West Counties League, have taken 2 points from their first 16 games and seem likely to be needing snookers by Shrove Tuesday. Up at the top unbeaten Dunston, well-supported Consett and eternally unhappy temporary residents Bishop Auckland could all unquestionably make the step up, though probably only 1 will.

If, as seems likely, this means 4 teams will be promoted from Northern League 2,  the playing standards of the top division will be inevitably diluted. In 2020, when possibly 10 clubs will be forcibly promoted to the Northern Premier League East Division, their replacements will undoubtedly come from Division 2. The ultimate effect will be a first division including 14 teams who are currently operating at a level lower and a second tier fleshed out with any outfit who fancy applying. Undoubtedly, and disgracefully, this will mean the hard-fought battle to ensure all clubs satisfy a minimum ground grading by having floodlights, seats, cover and hard standing, will have been in vain as glorified park facilities will be deemed acceptable at step 6. Such a retrograde step will be a slap in the face to all remain member clubs who strove to make their grounds eligible for crowds far in excess of the 150 or so regulars who pitch up.

Another obvious conclusion will be that the FA Vase would stop being a realistic target for Northern League clubs, so make the most of 2018/2019 and the season after, because come autumn 2020, there’ll not be much of a Northern League and much less of a chance of constituent members battling for the honour of a lap of honour at Wembley and an open top bus parade through the proud former mining towns that have for so long been the heartland of the grassroots game from the Tees to the Wansbeck. On Saturday 5^th January, we have the aforementioned Sunderland RCA v West Auckland game, but also Hebburn Town host Shepshed Dynamo and the one I’m already losing sleep over; Benfield v Northwich Victoria. If you really need to boycott a Newcastle United game, give their cup game at home to Blackburn a swerve and cheer the Lions on. You’d be more than welcome.