Blue Murder

 

As you can imagine, the last developments in the three cases and two complaints I’ve been actively pursuing against the Filth, have provided me with zero satisfaction. At the time of writing, I’ve been fucked off by the IOPC as regards the complaints about evil PC Doyle and his two enablers, ACI Hall and the semi-mythical CI Lowther. I’ve had a typically anodyne response from the IOPC, exonerating the three of them for their disgracefully abusive and corrupt conduct. All I could do was fire off an angry response to the one at the IOPC who allegedly investigated the Filth’s investigation. I’ve no expectation of acceptable redress, as I’ve reached the end of the road in the appeals process, but here’s my response for what it’s worth…

Dear Ms Turner,

Thank you for your response to my appeal to the IOPC regarding Northumbria Police and the conduct of officers Doyle, Hall and Lowther. You will no doubt be unsurprised that I am bitterly disappointed with this latest, establishment approved kick in the nether regions, during my exhausting and exhaustive search for restorative justice against a force who, collectively and individually, I regard as lazy, incompetent and corrupt administratively and vicious, domineering and corrupt operationally. I intend to respond to your judgement sequentially, but I must state at the outset that the headline question I would value an unambiguous response to is this; do I have any further avenues for appeal or complaint against Northumbria Police for what I consider to be an unarguable case of institutional and individual incompetence, intimidation and corruption?

As regards the body of your report, I am somewhat bemused by your reference to “allegations” that I received 15 threatening emails from one of Doyle’s few close personal friends, who served time in prison for football hooliganism. These emails were a matter of indisputable truth; I forwarded all of them to Northumbria Police’s investigating officer Victoria Dawson, who passed them on to operational officers, with whom I discussed their content, deciding not to opt for the prosecution of the sender as I pity him rather than feel anger or any need for retribution. Similarly, you refer to the fact I “allege” Lowther didn’t contact me. There’s no disputing this point either; he did not contact me. Your suggestion that these two facts are matters of conjecture shows your own objectivity has been seriously compromised from the outset. I would ask if you were working, not independently as you claim, but for the exclusive benefit of Northumbria Police, in the completion of your evaluation of the treatment of my complaint.

Why are you satisfied Doyle’s Twitter account was subject to adequate scrutiny when he was permitted to deactivate, and delete huge numbers of Tweets that contained abusive comments about me? I refer again to the description of me as being a “scruffy, fat, irritating keyboard warrior.” Is this a professional opinion, or a personal one, that you seem so keen to uphold? Of course, later you do go on to defend Doyle’s right to hold his own opinions, while purposefully invalidating my right to regard Doyle as a “swaggering bully.” What gives you the right to hold such contradictory opinions?

Doyle lied to Hall by claiming that he had left Benfield FC in summer 2019. He had not. He left in summer 2020, which is why he was able to stir up hatred against me later that year, partly because I am a member of the Labour Party and was an active campaigner in the December 2019 General Election. We must remember, of course, that PC Doyle had vented his spleen at me in a vicious tirade after he discovered I had voted Remain in June 2016, which is why he was so happy to see me threatened by ultra-right wing known risk supporters from North Shields in December 2017. On reflection, the conduct of Hall in relation to Doyle’s lies about this situation is not “sloppy” as I previously described it. Rather, it is dangerously incompetent or wilfully corrupt. This is where a legal intervention is needed, rather than you absolving them of all responsibility. They need arresting for this. Incidentally, I realise discussion of your motives for your conduct may be beyond this current forum and something that needs to be looked at by another agency later.

Whatever form the professional reflection Hall undertook is of little consequence to me; I do not accept she shows any insight, much less contrition, into her unacceptable conduct. Clearly Doyle will have no insight of his behaviour, having been exonerated at every turn.

To conclude, I am more than unhappy with the response I have received from the IOPC, which has amounted to nothing more than granting carte blanche to the thugs and morons of Northumbria Police, while simultaneously denigrating my character and right to oppose the vicious conduct of the so-called upholders of law in the North East.

I have one final question; how do I complain about you and the disgrace of a report than you have produced to maintain the appalling miscarriage of justice that has been visited on me?

Her response shows that the IOPC look after their mates and so Doyle is off the hook, when he should be inside -:

You ask whether you have any further avenues for appeal or complaint against Northumbria Police for what you consider to be an ‘unarguable case of institutional and individual incompetence, intimidation and corruption.’ With regards to this complaint, investigation and review by the IOPC there Is no further course of action you are able to take. If you have any new complaints against officers at Northumbria Police, then these will be considered by Northumbria Police.

Still, at least I had a response, however inadequate, as the report into the abuse and intimidation I got from those two imbecilic Flatties, Oliver and Duff, not to mention their invisible superior Henderson back at base, outside the Co-Op on New Year’s Eve is still awaited. The investigating plod Seymour submitted her report to “Professional” Standards (don’t laugh) more than a fortnight ago, but they are still “quality checking” (I said don’t laugh) the thing, or more likely correcting her spelling, punctuation and grammar, as well as making me look like the guilty party, which is what the supposed investigator of my third complaint, about the 3 neds in the VW Golf who gave me grief the other Sunday managed to do.

Having had to deal with 6 Plod that day, the only one to produce any sense was phone copper Moffat, who managed to give me 2 crime numbers; one for the assault and one for the drive-by screaming I suffered later. A week or so after some Polis called Page dropped me a line and said she was the investigating officer and would call me in a few days, after she’d looked at the SILENT CCTV. She didn’t. Instead I got this email…

The CCTV shows you and the vehicle on opposite sides of the road but with ample room for moving around. You pass the vehicle, and a male exits the passenger side before approaching the shop. You then return to the car (BECAUSE THEY WERE SCREAMING ABUSE AT ME, YOU BRAINLESS TWAT) as it is moving off and it then parks outside the shop. You approach the car and open the driver’s door. The passenger appears to be recording using his mobile phone and you approach the passenger and slap his hand (TO STOP HIM FILMING ME, YOU BRAINLESS TWAT). These actions could amount to assault and criminal damage.

It is at this point that the passenger picks up your bike and throws it a short distance away (CRIMINAL DAMAGE, YOU BRAINLESS TWAT). You approach the passenger repeatedly, coming within a very close proximity to him, even when he is getting into the car. At this point, you hold the door open; preventing it from closing and the passenger pushes you backwards once. Whilst this action is an assault, it appears to be self-defence since you continue to approach the passenger and prevent him from closing the door (IT IS STILL ASSAULT, YOU BRAINLESS TWAT).

The CCTV footage would form the key evidence for any prosecution and unfortunately your actions are very undermining in that you appear to be the instigator of aggression (IT IS SILENT, YOU BRAINLESS TWAT) before any action is taken by the male passenger and it is extremely unlikely that any prosecution would be successful. I am willing to obtain a statement from you; however it is very likely that there would be counter allegations made against you.

So, there you go; don’t you dare make a complaint or we will fit you up. Not only that, the second crime isn’t even referred to, much less investigated. On account of being left high and dry by the menacing tone of this email, I’ve just let the thing die. No wonder everybody hates the pigs. ACAB? You bet!

 

 

Men Behind The Wire

 In the week the European Super League was born and died, I'm here to eulogise over the Northern Alliance..

You know what? I was bored by all this European Super League horseshit before I went to bed on Sunday night; both the bare faced greed of the participants and the crocodile tears of those opposing it. The sheer predictability of an underhand money grab by a collection of avaricious bastards once UEFA hinted at a rejigging of the already unwatchable Champions’ League may be an outrage, but it’s been in the post for years now. Don’t you dare allow Newcastle United supporters to take the moral high ground over this; nothing is more certain than they would have been demanding a spot in this whole new ball game if the Saudi blood money injection had come to pass. The Premier League may well be corrupt, but at least it is transparent in its greed.

The thing that really did tickle me was the utter hilarity of inviting Spurs to take on the role of continent-wide Lanterne Rouge, matched only in base avarice by the hand-wringing and breast-beating by Sky Sports Haw Haws Carragher and Neville. The thirty-year Faustian pact between the top division and the broadcasting cash dispenser feared being blown out of the water this potential parting of the ways. Fear not kids; as Gerry Adams so memorably quipped “they haven’t gone away you know.” In about a year’s time, after months of Camp David style negotiations, UEFA will bend over backwards to give “the Big Boys” what they want; a hermetically sealed, midweek footballing IPL that nobody with any romance in their soul will pay attention to. The product will, of course, be hidden behind a pay wall that will take your eyes out to view it. Just as the Premier League is currently doing, strangely enough.

Meanwhile, to return to the subject of football, the Northern Alliance has returned and I have drunk deeply from this fountain of footballing purity. While the Northern League decided to abandon any thoughts of organising a compensatory end of season kickaround, presumably because the absence of fans meant an absence of income, the Alliance stood up for grassroots players and fans across the region by reorganising their 4 divisional cups into mini-leagues. Additionally, the Northumberland FA decided to persevere with the Benevolent Bowl and Minor Cup, which is what took me to Seaton Sluice’s Crag Park on Easter Saturday for an NFA Minor Cup third round clash with North Shields Community Christians FC.

Having cycled up from Tynemouth, past the homes of Cullercoats and Whitley Bay Sports Club, where zealous volunteers were assiduously tending to the hanging of goal nets and correct placement of corner flags, the frisson of excitement enacted by the return to competitive football was maintained when my first game of 2021, at a new ground to boot, kicked off on a sunny and breezy afternoon, perched atop a cliff face overlooking St Mary’s Lighthouse, under the solicitous gaze of ref Chris Seach.  There were uncontested walkovers elsewhere, most notably by Wooler, meaning that Seaton Sluice was my final destination in my desire to complete the full Alliance set, but this tie was played at a furious tempo, though with little discernible skill on a bobbly, windswept pitch, other than from ex-Percy Main left back Rob Watson for NSCC, who looked imperious at this level.

Despite it being Easter, it was the Christians who handed out the crucifixion, outclassing the home side from the very start.  In front of about 20 spectators, which was perfectly legal on this patch of common, unenclosed land, the visitors took the lead from a free header at a corner just after the half way point of the first half. Within 10 minutes, the game was brought to a grinding halt with the arrival of the Tynemouth Volunteer Coastguard helicopter, which had winched a foolhardy rockhopper who had fallen and twisted his ankles while the tide was out. Soon Crag Park was thronged with the kind of simpleton rubberneckers who wave at trains, watching the shamefaced patient being wheeled to a waiting ambulance. Drama over, the emergency services and interested observers melted away, leaving the same couple of dozen zealots to watch the Christians complete a routine win with another sloppy goal from a corner. It wasn’t a classic, but it was good to be back.

 

Game two saw me take the bike to High Flatworth, the current home of one of my favourite Alliance teams, Willington Quay Saints, who were hosting Cramlington Town in the Alliance Amateur Cup. I’ve always had a soft spot for WQS since one of my former students, Jon Ellis; lead the line for them when they reached the NFA Minor Cup final, only to lose 1-0 to Alnwick Town in 2007. Back then they played at the Barking Dog, which I consider a far better pitch than Flatworth. However, WQS are one of several sides who have changed their home pitch since I first saw them, so they required a revisit.

I arrived at 18.07, moments after kick-off, in time to see WQS take the lead with a chip that outstripped Phillippe Albert’s effort against Man Utd. There were very few there to celebrate on open parkland, while the road up through the deserted and closed Tyne Tunnel Trading Estate was half full with parked cars. A blanket of low, grey cloud on a freezing evening suggested there was no chance of the Coastguard stealing tonight’s show. Instead, North Tyneside’s parking enforcement Sturmabteilung cast a menacing shadow over proceedings, backed up by the incompetent, institutional muscle of the local Peelers in a transit. Fifteen minutes into the game one of the Wehrmacht Wardens wandered across the pitch and informed the ref all cars on the pavement needed to be moved or they’d be impounded. Like a scene from The Firm, players abandoned the pitch at full pelt, to rescue their cars.  The tin hat was put on proceedings when the plod in the van put his flatfoot to the metal and unintentionally rammed a WQS player’s car; the shuddering sideswipe almost certainly wrote the vehicle off and eventually, to ironic cheers, the car and the meat wagon were carted off on a low loader.  Meanwhile, on the pitch, WQS remained in control throughout and eased to a 4-2 win, with a couple of fine strikes for either side, as well as a goalmouth scramble that wouldn’t have looked out of place at Eton College in the mid-Victorian Era. The parking interregnum saw the game finish in sub-zero temperatures in near darkness. I pedalled creakily home, cursing my failure to don a second pair of socks.

One of the things I’ve not done during this lockdown has been to visit my old fella’s grave since before Christmas. When I saw that both Winlaton and Blaydon were at home on Saturday 10^th April, I saw this as a perfect opportunity to kill 3 birds with one bus ticket. Travelling by public transport from Tynemouth to Blaydon, I found myself on the 45A sat in front of Dora Jakab, the Hungarian female referee who was to take charge of the Blaydon versus Gosforth Bohemian Reserves Neville Cowey Cup game. Somewhat to her consternation, I identified myself with a jaunty Hiszek egy Magyarorszag, making me appear to be Viktor Orban in the guise of a groundhopper. Perhaps it was an ill-judged conversational gambit I mused, as I bought flowers to lay atop Eddy’s tomb, that appeared utterly untouched since my last visit in the late Autumn.

 

From Blaydon Cemtery, I took a 49A up the hill to Winlaton, where the Vulcans were hosting Blue Star in the Challenge Cup. Considering the home team are the successor outfit to the woeful Ryton and Crawcrook Reserves, who scraped along the bottom of the Tyneside Amateur League, their development has been spectacular. Their ground, in the rugby complex that I’d seen the Thunder’s reserves have their collective arses handed to them by a pub team from Dewsbury a few years back, is well developed too. Of course, being located behind wire fencing, it isn’t public land, so those of us who came to spectate, including 50 or so vociferous Blue Star Ultras, who appear to have taken up the ideological baton from the retired Ridges reprobates, were directed to a spot adjacent to the complex and were consequently obliged to squint through the gaps, in order to see the game unfold.

Not only was the protected pitch appreciably better than anything I’d seen thus far, so was the standard of the game, with both sides looking sharp and incisive. Winlaton took the lead after a flurry of short passes and a precise, low finish into the corner. Blue Star, taking over the mantle of Northern League galacticos slumming at this level from Killingworth, are no slouches and a formidable front pairing of Josh Scott and Andrew Bulford fired in a quickfire double to put the visitors ahead. This was greatly appreciated by their followers, who were rocking the 80s vibe of football behind a fence, even if stood in a bucolic copse, and attempted a few desultory, slurred songs in a raucous, tuneless style. Great to see somebody watching and caring about football at this level, though I’d imagine they’ll be in the Northern League next season.

As soon as the whistle for half time went, I was off to catch the bus back down the hill, to see the second half of Blaydon versus Bohs Reserves. It was, as I quickly found out, a terrible game on a terrible pitch, with an excellent referee. In fact, Dora Jakab was the most competent performer by miles, though it wasn’t a bad tempered game by any stretch of the imagination. Blaydon, the younger side, brought the play endlessly towards the Bohs goal. The aged and almost entirely bearded visitors eventually cracked on 75 minutes, when a looping header from a corner dropped in at the back post. Despite their best efforts, neither side created further chances worthy of the name, as perspiration won out over inspiration. That said, I felt much more at home with the honest endeavours of the lads at Blaydon, than up the hill where NBS eventually prevailed 3-2.

 Having decided watching 2 games was the way to go, I found myself at Chemfica Amateurs v North Sunderland in the Neville Cowey Cup on the grass and Newcastle University A hosting East End on the 4G in the Amateur Cup at the Longbenton Sports Ground at the top of Coach Lane on Wednesday 14^th April. I had originally intended to take in Ponteland United against Percy Main in the Challenge Cup, but the home side’s temporary home at the High School is apparently a maximum security facility. Rather like most of the residents of NE20, Ponteland have adopted a “get off my land” stance when it comes to being Covid-secure. I’m not sure if they actually employ armed guards to secure their property, but the message they sent me on Twitter was unambiguous; hence my search for another game, or games as it turned out. 

In the Corinthian corner were Chemfica Amateurs, who put in a really spirited and encouraging performance against a North Sunderland side that must be commended for travelling 50 miles down the coast for an almost meaningless midweek game. The visitors scored the only goal of the game from their sole clear cut chance with 10 minutes to go. Chemfica, dignified in defeat as ever, took defeat philosophically and didn’t display any petulance at their unfortunate fate. In contrast, poor old Chris Seach had a hell of a job with the hotheads from East End, who disputed every decision and tried to kick their way to revenge as the University Reserves breezed past them by a wholly unflattering 4-0. In fading light and falling temperatures, I cycled home, musing on the fact that good guys don’t always win, but neither do bad guys either.

 

In fact, sometimes nobody wins. Having decided against a double header in Daisy Hill, opting out of the second round of East End versus the Uni A at Miller’s Dene, the only ground where I’ve ever seen someone ride a horse across the pitch at half time, and East End Reserves hosting dear old Bohs Reserves at Stotts Road, my choice of Newcastle Independent’s top of the table Amateur Cup tie against Gateshead Redheugh ended in a 1-1 draw. Frankly, it was the least appealing game of any I’ve seen since the restart and that wasn’t just because I got there at 18.29 to find it had kicked off at 18.15, with both goals coming in the opening few minutes. My main grouse was the reluctance of both sides to use the lush pasture of Coach Lane’s immaculate 4G, preferring to hoof and chase.

Redheugh were a decent set of lads but, despite repeatedly breaching the Independent centre back pairing in the opening period, never seemed likely to score again. The home team were on top for all the second half, but simply couldn’t force the ball home and so the two of them play each other in the last group game on Saturday 24^th, when I’ll be at the cricket; Tynemouth v Felling.

 

 

 

 

University Challenge

Sunderland University Sports Journalism student Jackson Byrne asked me a few questions about how COVID has affected my Northern League viewing experiences this season. Here are my answers -:

1.     How has Covid affected you and your experience of the Northern League?

Without question, the primary impact of Covid on my club Newcastle Benfield was the death from the after effects of the disease of our chairman Dave Robson, who had given 14 years of devoted service to the club. Coming hard on the heels of the death of our previous chairman Jimmy Rowe, in September 2019, it is a grievous blow for the club and I miss them both enormously.  Additionally, my dear friend Gary Thompson, who is also Benfield’s secretary, was also struck low with Covid, though he is now on the road to recovery. Impact in such a profound way shows just how Covid has devastated certain sectors of society.

As regards the impact on my experience of the Northern League, I simply found it almost impossible to see a game.  That said, I’ve attended 20 games in 2020/2021, but almost entirely in public parks at Northern Alliance level. The season, such as it was, saw Northern League grounds struggling with an uneconomic 150 capacity, which meant no room at the inn when we played at Ashington, Consett, Hebburn and Stockton, where over half the home support were locked out, never mind finding space for travelling fans. Not every club is so well supported, as I could easily have accessed the terraces to see us at Billingham Town, Newton Aycliffe, Penrith and Thornaby, save for the fact they were midweek games, I don’t have a car and don’t finish work until 5.30 in North Tyneside. The curtailment of fixtures at Northern League level meant the last game I saw Benfield play was a crushing 5-2 Vase defeat at Liversedge in West Yorkshire, the day the second lockdown was announced. Great memories eh?

Without wanting to come across too smug or wise after the event, when the first lockdown took effect in March 2020, I immediately suggested we did not abandon that season, as future waves of the virus and pitifully reactive lockdowns were obviously in the post. To me, rolling it over to be a 2019-20-21 campaign, especially as there were 8 teams left in the Northern League Cup and 8 others in the Ernest Armstrong, was a no brainer. As how most clubs played around 15 league games in 2020/2021, a similar number of fixtures would have been enough to complete a hybrid, aggregate season, allowing both the league reconstruction that the FA are so keen on and making meaningful cup games possible in spring 2021. I think the fact the 2020 Vase final hasn’t taken place yet shows the folly of embarking upon 2020/2021 at any level above grassroots. 

2.     Apart from size, what would you say is the biggest difference between a Northern League ground and a football stadium? 

It’s the quality of the welcome at most grounds; the sense that your attendance is appreciated. It is being treated like a human being in the bar, club shop or pie hut, where you aren’t just a walking wallet to be exploited. At just about every ground, you can choose to stand among other folks, ready to discuss events, or pick a spot away from the numbers, if you just want to watch the game.

Obviously certain clubs have a minority of puddle drinking meatheads who go out of their way to be as brusque and unpleasant as possible, but these are only a tiny minority and can safely be ignored. After all, you won’t pass that was again for another year. Instead you’d be better focussing on the wonderful little eccentricities to be celebrated in all the grounds; for instance, you wouldn’t find a cement mixer in the bogs at the Emirates, unlike at RCA’s Meadow Park.

3.                 Which ground would you say is your personal favourite to visit? 

If I’m being nostalgic, it is a dead heat between Crook Town’s Millfield and Shildon’s Dean Street. Both are venerable throwbacks to an era when local grounds would be thronged by supporters of the local team. Whether work or poverty kept them from Newcastle or Sunderland, who knows or cares, but local pride took centre stage and still does in such theatres of football. At Crook you have two distinct structures along the side of the pitch; a cavernous standing terrace and a charmingly brittle aged grandstand. At Shildon the famous pagoda main stand is apparently to be replaced. Alright, it’s a death trap, but it’ll be missed.

Whitley Bay is an excellent venue at our level, comfortably accommodating 2,500 if necessary and I have to say my beloved Benfield’s Sam Smith’s Park is the most improved ground in the whole league, just shading West Auckland’s Darlington Road.

 

4.                 What is the best game you’ve seen at Northern League level?

 

As a neutral, Whitley Bay 5 Bedlington Terriers 2 in December 2008. It was tipping it down all day; while most other games had fallen foul of the weather, at Hillheads over 400, all squashed in the main stand and paddock, took in a magnificent contest that ebbed both ways. Bay, in the season they’d claim the Vase at Wembley, had a magnificent side, though Bedlington were no slouches either, and the home side ran away with it in the second half. Each goal was volubly cheered to the echoing rafters by a crowd who had incredible value for money. It was also the first time I’d ever seen a player take a penalty, hit the woodwork and tuck the rebound home. Luckily as I’d seen this same scenario in a 1974 Roy of the Rovers, I knew it would be a goal kick. And it was.

Being biased, I can’t look any further than Penrith 0 Benfield 1 on May 4^th 2009. It was the last league fixture of the season, which saw Benfield win the title courtesy of an 86^th minute goal by Stephen Young in the final game ever played at Penrith’s old Southend Road ground. We had never topped the table at any point during the whole season until it hit the net. Seemingly compelled to constantly play catch up, an unbeaten run from mid-February to the end of the season saw us reel Consett in. I can still see Young’s curled finish into the top corner and will remember forever the crazy on field celebrations at full time. Sadly, I couldn’t have a pint to celebrate, as Penrith used to go back to the Conservative Club after games and you have to draw the line somewhere.

5.                 Are there any grounds you haven’t visited yet that you would like to visit?

 

I’ve managed to visit every current Northern League club, though I need to revisit Sunderland West End’s Ford Complex as it has been totally remodelled since my last trip. Also West Allotment Celtic are moving to Northern Alliance side Forest Hall’s East Palmersville home, which has been upgraded to Northern League standard, so I’ll be calling in to see how it has improved. Apart from that, at the other end of the scale, the ground I most want to visit is Tottenham’s new home, mainly because they sell Camden Ales and have a gourmet cheese stall instead of a pie hut.

6.                 Finally, what would make up the perfect Northern League ground? 

Ideally, a windproof structure, if such a thing were possible, would be heaven on earth.  In all seriousness, a large, modern stand and clubhouse, similar to those at Ashington, Bishop Auckland and Penrith, offering easy access to shelter, toilets and liquid refreshment, on hand pull if possible, would be essential. Stepped, concrete terracing behind both goals, such as the glorious examples at Chester-le-Street, Crook and Whitley Bay would provide the best possible spectator experience for those rare occasions when we get good weather on a match day and, to finish this imaginary non-league palace off, a covered standing terrace opposite the main stand, such as the one at Shildon’s Dean Street, for the 90% of the time when it isn’t. Add in a club shop, selling programmes and miscellaneous other goodies, as well as a bait cabin offering a wide range of hot food, including vegetarian options, then you’ve got the closest thing you’ll get to a perfect ground for our level. 

Critical Wraith Theories

 It wasn't the Frost Nixon interview, but Steve Wraith's chat with Yaxley Lennon caused a furore. Here's my take on it -:

On Thursday 25^th March, around 2pm, Steve Wraith created a social media pandemic when he announced on Twitter that he was to interview convicted mortgage fraudster, serial public order offender and unapologetic brawling stalker, Stephen Yaxley Lennon. Steve invited questions and so, within 5 minutes of the announcement, I began a 7 day Twitter ban for a direct personal attack on Yaxley Lennon, after inquiring why the odious little shit didn’t top himself. In retrospect, you can understand the automated banning response, as it was triggered by oath-edged talk that could be seen as targeted abuse.

Of course, this banning order was an ironic by-product of my long-held belief that fascists (including TERFs) should be vigorously deplatformed. You’ll notice that I’m not shouting and bawling about the suppression of free speech, which I’ve long regarded as a farcical canard, mainly on account of the fact that those who shout loudest on this subject regard Free Speech as the supposedly legal right to say what they want and listen to others who mimic their opinions, while calling for the muzzling of anyone who has a different opinion. In England’s repressive, quasi Police State, only those whose authoritarian populist, pro-militaristic, Islamophobic rhetoric strictly parallels the fascistic ideology of the ruling elite, are allowed the honour of Free Speech. Witness how long it took for the Met, home of murderer Wayne Couzens, took to investigate the neo-Nazi activities of Benjamin Hannam, who was banged up last week.

Witness also the kerfuffle concerning Batley Grammar School, where some unthinking oaf of an RE teacher used the Charlie Hebdo Mohammed cartoons, in total defiance of the words of the Qur'an, which has caused outrage in the local Muslim community. The teacher has been suspended and will probably tender his resignation, which is a better result than if the lads from the local Mosque got hold of him, but the wider point remains that the teacher, not the followers of Islam gathering at the school gates, is the one who inflamed the situation, by the misuse of Free Speech.

Perhaps the biggest irony of Steve Wraith’s announcement was that it took place in the week that the appalling report of the Commission on Race and Ethnic Disparities was published. This mendacious tissue of horseshit was allegedly an investigation into institutional racism in England; instead, it was a collection of lies and half-truths, attempting to portray a country, rent asunder by strife, as living in racial harmony. Ray Honeyford, Roger Scruton and probably Bernard Manning would have blushed in shame at the weasel words it contained.

With the 7 day ban in force, I spent little or no time on Twitter, so I had no idea of the magnitude of the rancour and bad bloodletting that was taking place among the NUFC Twitterati over Steve Wraith’s proposed interview. Suffice to say, the whole platform was divided into two distinct camps, with endless cyber finger pointing and gesturing disfiguring a debate that generated far more heat than light. When I returned to Twitter, I posted a tweet saying I’d be addressing this subject in my next blog. In a surprisingly touchy outburst, Steve Wraith expressed disappointment with this and anger at my expense. This took my breath away as, in all the time I’ve known him, Steve and I have never had cross words. Let’s put this in context, shall we? I’ve known Steve Wraith nigh on 30 years now, first meeting in 91, back when he used to edit The Mighty Quinn fanzine, which then became The Number 9 after our erstwhile Scouse goal getter was first injured and then sold.

Unlike The Mag, Steve’s publication had a different tone, including interviews with the likes of John McVicar and references to many London underworld figures. This apparent veneration of a criminal demi monde has been used as a stick to beat Steve with ever since, generally by unscrupulous bullshit artists with their own agenda, but has never bothered me; while I was reading The Mighty Quinn, I was also collecting all 150 issues of Murder Casebook, which I’ve still got in binders incidentally. I’m no longer as interested in serial killers as I once was, because people change their hobbies, don’t they? Considering other NUFC fanzine editors have lost everything and almost bankrupted their business partner because of a pervasive gambling problem or collected more Nazi memorabilia than the late Frank Wappatt, I don’t have a problem with Steve’s interests as a younger bloke. I don’t judge Steve for how he was aged 20 and I’ll always be grateful for how he intervened and helped protect me from the relentless cyber campaign Mental Mickey conducted against me back in 2015. He’s not the only ex fanzine editor I’d have a drink with either; Half Mag’s David Jameson is a blinding fella and Talk of the Tyne’s Derek Graham always cheers me up when we run into each other, but they’ve both long abandoned writing about Newcastle United. Sensible lads.

Politically, I’ve never had a problem with Steve either. Sure, he’s on the other side of the spectrum to me, but I fully understood his decision to stand as the Tory candidate for the Felling ward by-election for a seat on Gateshead Council. You see that by-election was caused by the death of my uncle: long-serving Labour Councillor John Hird (the dad, not the unhinged Leninist loony son of the same name). John’s death came at a time when the BNP, who had a history of activism in the Felling, Deckham, Leam and Shipcote areas going back to the 70s, were possibly at their strongest as an electoral force around that time. It’s not certain but if Steve, who was a resident of the ward at that time, hadn’t stood for the Tories, the BNP could have won, which would have been an absolute disgrace for one of the most impoverished areas of the entire region. Of course, we’re talking about, what were for the bits of my family left standing, emotive events that happened 15 years ago. It seemed possible at the time, but the actually voting figures completely disprove my memory, which is unreliable in this instance. Steve got 74, the BNP got 96 and Paul McNally succeeded John with 896 votes. Heck, there was even a Lib Dem candidate who got 206. Apologies for this; I didn’t do my research. Let me be clear about this; on that occasion Steve Wraith stood up against Fascism and I have absolutely no belief that he is a follower or fellow traveller with the organised ultra-right wing. You may disagree with his decision to give Yaxley Lennon publicity, but to depict him as a card-carrying, far right thug is way wide of the mark.

Now, looking at his decision to interview Yaxley Lennon, I have to say I was in opposition and would not, under any circumstances, have gone ahead with this interview if I’d been in his position. I look upon his grinning photo with Yaxley Lennon as an ill-judged publicity disaster. To be frank, I was worried that the final product would be potentially ruinous for Steve’s reputation and a crass own goal. However, while being aware of the righteous anger and utter condemnation of large numbers of decent, salt of the earth Newcastle fans who I’d like to think of as friends, as well as many hypocritical opportunists who climbed on the bandwagon to get publicity for their loathsome Twitter profiles, despite being Fascist sympathisers themselves, I promised not to comment until I’d sat through the entire 1 hour and 45 minutes of the encounter.

It was a tough listen, but not fawningly hagiographic. The headline conclusion is that Yaxley Lennon’s paranoid ranting will only appeal to the terminally hard of thinking underclass whose ignorance is matched only by their malleability. For some reason I’ve never really got on board with the podcast revolution, so I tend to find them either stilted or embarrassingly enthusiastic. In this case, it was a bit of both. Steve was true to his word and asked the questions he’d been sent, but perhaps because they weren’t his invention, he hadn’t anticipated the answers he would be given; thus, he wasn’t there with follow up questions to really nail his victim. Don’t get me wrong, this wasn’t soft-pedalling, but perhaps an indication that if Steve wishes to expand his horizons and explore what hard talk really means, he needs to sharpen up. My advice would be to secure an interview with former Benwell Labour Councillor Dipu Ahad, who would be diametrically opposed to Yaxley Lennon on any ideological continuum.

Yaxley Lennon, other than endlessly betraying his hatred of Islam, Marxism, Black Lives Matter and “student” politics, didn’t say anything particularly inflammatory, or interesting. Hence, the news he has a warrant out for his arrest after this, suggests talking shite is now an offence. Yaxley’s demeanour is that of a barely controlled, tightly wound fighting machine, ready to explode in the face of anyone who questions or doubts him. His rhetoric is endless banal, superficial populism. Any experienced political interviewer would absolutely wipe the floor with him. Yaxley Lennon is utterly unapologetic for his prior misconduct and refuses to accept that his criminal past is anything to be ashamed of. Rather like his pitiful grizzling over his ex-wife’s decision to cut all ties, he lacks any understanding of the result of his previous actions.  The most piteous thing is how, when animated, Yaxley Lennon’s voice rises to a hysterical, camp falsetto that makes him sound pathetic. In short, anyone with any basic level of education can discount Yaxley Lennon and his squalid gang of low life followers; the bloke is as thick as pig shit and no threat to the ruling elite. I simply cannot envisage a situation where Yaxley Lennon, or indeed any other right wing demagogue, will succeed at the ballot box. However, whether it is in the company of the nefarious hoods behind the discredited and despicable Justice 4 Chelsey campaign, or mobilising his squad of street thugs the next time a Batley type local incident blows up, we know Yaxley Lennon has the power to make the lives of ordinary people, especially if they are Muslim, an utter misery. That is why we should oppose him by word, or deed if you prefer, at every opportunity.

Two final points; firstly, I’d like Steve to clarify if he had met Yaxley Lennon once or twice prior to this. It seems that Steve met Yaxley Lennon after his visit to Sunderland ended in a pub in Whickham and during his ill-fated trip supporting Luton in the FA Cup, when he was reputedly put on his arse by an Asian Antifa activist. Secondly, if Yaxley Lennon prides himself on his research, how come he didn’t know that legendary anti-Fascist campaigner, Councillor Nigel Todd, had died the weekend previously? Nigel was a good man, whose life was both well lived and considerably longer than the loathsome Piers Merchant.