The High Life

 April has been a decent month to be a Newcastle United fan -:

So, the last time I blogged about Newcastle United (http://payaso-de-mierda.blogspot.com/2023/03/smile.html), things were starting to look promising again, after the disappointment of the Carabao Cup final and a subsequent blip in form had been purged from the collective body politic by the back-to-back wins over Wolves and Forest. As we headed into the late March international break, there was tentative optimism in the air, though the busy April schedule was seen as being pivotal to the club’s eventual overall performance in 2022/2023. Now, 7 games, 6 wins, 22 goals and 15 points later, it seems an appropriate time to take stock and, though True Faith may not approve of positive thinking on account of it being “small minded,” celebrate what the team has achieved over the past month. Certainly, I must hold my hands up and acknowledge that Callum Wilson, who I had seen as being over the hill and unmotivated following his World Cup exploits, has struck back with a series of superb performances that clearly show him to be playing the best football in black and white, since he signed for the club.

Off the pitch, April began with the usual niggardly, point scoring, faux moral outrage on Wearside about the behaviour of former NUFC play Andy Ferrell. The lad who famously told Mick McCarthy that he would rather be a window cleaner than sign for the Mackems after being released by Newcastle, enjoyed a decent non-league career with Hereford of all teams, Gateshead and several Northern League outfits, most noticeable Bedlington Terriers. However, what he has really been noted for among the NUFC faithful over recent years, is running buses to away games from The Black Bull, now titled The Black & White Bull, on Barrack Road. Fez is a solid lad who loves his club, so when a bunch of Chelsea chancers showed up there before the game at the back end of November, him and his pals were not likely to accept such conduct without a frank exchange of opinions. Fists flew and social media footage went viral, causing Northumbria’s finest to build a case against Fez, that resulted in him getting banned from grounds up and down the country. An appeal is in process, but the red and white hypocrites, no doubt ignoring the light-fingered activities of the late Gary Breeds, who was one of their own, were calling for the kind of punishment that they are allegedly aghast about when it is meted out in Saudi Arabia, to be visited on Fez. Not only that, current Sunderland player Jack Diamond’s arrest on suspicion of rape has been described as a direct result of Diamond being a “boyhood Mag.” You simply cannot believe their logic, can you? At least Andy Ferrell has shown he loves his club.

Such activities did not detract from the on-pitch tactical masterclass that Eddie Howe schooled Ten Haag with. This could have been another 5-0, in all honesty, as Manchester United were simply outclassed from first whistle to last. If only Newcastle could have put in such a performance at Wembley a month earlier. Still, at least there was an even better 90 minutes to be enjoyed in the Capital only days later, as Howe’s team tore West Ham to pieces, winning 5-1 at the London Stadium. The supposed Achilles heel had been the team’s inability to finish more than a fraction of the chances that were being created. Certainly, that problem seemed a thing of the past as ruthless finishing punished West Ham’s inadequate defending. Not only that, but Schar’s pass to Joelinton to set up the second goal was sheer poetry incarnate. On a night when everything we hit went in, every player shone outstandingly as the Irons were massacred.

Comments about the Brentford game are based upon highlights only as, astonishingly, this was Newcastle United’s first Saturday 3pm kick off of 2023 and, consequently, by definition the first one not to be broadcast live on television. I was at Heddon United 0 Hazlerigg Victory 3 that afternoon, while following events on my phone. Before the break, this appeared to consist of Ivan Toney attempting to singlehandedly wreak retribution on Newcastle for selling him for only £600k. It is shocking to reflect on how much trust fans put in the fat charlatan Benitez, who exchanged Toney’s breath-taking promise for the appalling Muto, who arrived for an eye-watering £11m. Suffice to say, nobody is singing El Fraudo’s name these days, while Howe is righteously praised to high heaven. He showed why today, by making changes at the break that meant another tactical masterclass took the points back north with the team. Whatever floppy haired gonk Thomas Frank has to say, any team with Alexander Isak in it has a strong chance of winning, regardless of what the opposition throw at them. Incidentally, I think Brentford’s ground just shades Spurs in being the top flight venue I’m keenest to visit.

Villa Park is a nice ground; steeped in history with a palpable sense of tradition, it is home to one of the greatest of all English clubs. Currently, Aston Villa boast an excellent manager in Unai Emery and a fine squad of talented players, as well as Tyrone Mings of course. The truly unfortunate thing is that their supporters are down among the dregs of humanity with Everton and the Mackems. I’m not just saying this to be wise after the event, but I had a bad feeling about this game all week leading up to it. After our great run, I suppose it was inevitable we’d come a cropper at some point and, in many ways, it is far better to be thumped 3-0 in one game than lose 3 narrowly by a single goal. Still, at least there was good news from Easter Road, when the High Bees put the Gorgie Filth in their place. Incidentally, I didn’t get to see this one. The cricket season ought to have started, but it was postponed on account of abysmal weather, so I had the joys of a trip to the opticians and then an interminable wait for a bus up to Coach Lane for a highly enjoyable Alliance encounter that finished Newcastle Independent 3 Percy Main 3. That said, I had more of a laugh later on, from checking #NUFC Twitter, where a Reverend Jim Jones style death cult appears every time, we fail to win a game. Although, and this is truly amazing, there was a huge groundswell of gracious dignified praise for Aston Villa. For their manager, for their players, though not for their fans.

 

If you want to contrast Aston Villa with any team, try Tottenham Hotspur, the crash test dummies of the Premier League. No matter who manages them, no matter who plays for them; Spurs are genetically predisposed to display cowardice and incompetence as regular as clockwork. Remember the Spurs sides who collapsed 7-1 in 96, 6-1 in 99, 4-0 in 03 and 5-1 when we’d already been relegated in 16? Their descendants outdid even those clowns by finding themselves 5-0 down after 21 minutes. Alright, let’s be honest; this is not the time for false modesty. Newcastle were outstanding. This team is unquestionably better than any of the sides Bobby Robson assembled and only a fraction behind Keegan’s Entertainers, as well as almost certain to get better as time goes on. It doesn’t matter if the opposition are so craven and incompetent as to appear set on emulating Sheffield Wednesday in 1999 or Newport County in 1946, we must accept Joelinton, Murphy, Willock and Sean performed at a level none of us thought they were capable of, even a year ago. Who knows how long Bruno, Isak and Botman will remain on Tyneside; whatever the time frame, we need to lap up every second of the cream this talent provides for us. Willock’s assist to Isak actually outdid Schar to Joelinton at West Ham. It was that good. Actually, it wasn’t good; it was perfection. Both in terms of number and quality, the goals we scored today utterly justified Murphy’s open-mouthed incredulity.

Following this evisceration, the Newcastle bandwagon moved on to Goodison Park on the Thursday. There have been so many games in such a short period of time that it has been difficult to keep abreast of developments. For this game, Shelley and I had booked tickets at Whitley Bay’s Jam Jar Cinema to see National Theatre Live’s performance of CP Taylor’s Good, with David Tenant in the lead role. I was very keen on seeing this play for a number of reasons. Firstly, I’d never been to the Jam Jar Cinema before and, while it certainly isn’t cheap, it’s an excellent spot that I’d recommend to anyone, being comfortable, spacious and relaxed. Secondly, Tenant is a wonderful actor and he turned in a virtuoso performance as an intellectual in 1930s Germany, who deludes himself that becoming a Nazi collaborator is the best thing for him to do, to protect his family. His arrogance and lack of conscience is honestly chilling to see. Finally, having grown up with CP Taylor’s children Avram and Clare during my early teenage revolutionary days, I have always tried to see revivals of his plays. This was the best I’ve seen, at a venue Shelley and I will certainly return to, hopefully to see further productions by National Theatre Live.

I did cheat and have Live Scores updating me on events at Goodison, you’ll not be surprised to learn. Having been worried, following death threats posted to Anthony Gordon, that there would be large-scale disorder, I was relieved to see it was only Magpie magnificence that was grabbing the headlines at full time. Walking in the pub at the final whistle, the tumultuous applause was clearly for the team’s performance and not our arrival. Seeing Isak’s assist for the final goal, I understood why. This lad is shaping up to be a combination of the best bits of Ibrahimovich meets Asprilla and he put in another fine shift on the left in the second half against Southampton when we came from behind, to win again.

 

I’d secured a couple of tickets for this one, via my pal John McQuaid, so it meant they landed on the mat via County Kildare. Sadly, my original plan to take Shelley was derailed at the two seats weren’t together, so Ben got the chance to go instead. The fact there were in Level 7 was a bit of a punishing factor, as the unforgiving presence of lactic acid in my calves and lower back after playing cricket the day before, made it one hell of a slog up those 187 steps into the sky. It gave me a hell of a good view of Howe’s tactics that clearly involved giving Gordon the ball at every opportunity. The lad could have scored twice and almost set up Bruno but faded from the game when put out on the right and it was no surprise when he went off for Wilson at the break. It was a surprise we were losing, though Southampton could have gone ahead after 30 seconds. However, I had full faith we would turn things around.

As I said earlier on, Wilson is playing the best football of his career for us and he ought to have had a hat trick here; two great finishes, another one chalked off and a booming effort that hit the bar twice showed just what he was about. Walcott’s OG reminded me that he hasn’t retired as yet and Southampton, decent footballing side though they are, seem certain to be relegated, which is a shame. Not least because they’re now the only team we’ve ever beaten 4 times in one season. This was a great and inevitable win, enjoyed from a seat in the clouds.

Next, we face Arsenal on Sunday. By then there will have been 9 other Premier League games and Liverpool may be 6 points closer to us. This does not matter. We need to enjoy the ride and do our best. If Arsenal goes against us, then we can pick up points at Leeds, then home to Brighton and Leicester. Let’s keep enjoying the high life.