Multum Gaudium in Castris

I finally got round to reading Beyond A Boundary by CLR James, which will be featured in next week's blog. For now, I've stolen a phrase of his for my latest cricket blog about my fortunes with Tynemouth CC 3s -:

June 15

Tynemouth CC 1s started a busy week with a couple of knock out fixtures. Firstly, they visited Cramlington CC for a Tyneside Charity Bowl quarter final tie. A fairly experimental side posted 160/5, with Freddie Harrison top-scoring with 72*, ably supported by Joel Hull-Denholm (50). Despite looking to have put the tie beyond the home team’s reach, Cramlington knocked off the required runs with 3 balls to spare, mainly on account of an unbeaten 105 by Vihanga Fernando, to win by 4 wickets. Thankfully, there was a more positive result in the NEPL T20 tournament on Friday, away to Shotley Bridge, where Tynemouth secured a trip to Hetton Lyons thanks to Robbie Bowman (44) and Josh Moors (40) starring in an innings of 161/8. Shotley Bridge mustered 142/8, with Freddie Harrison (3/33) catching the eye for Tynemouth.

On Saturday, Castle Eden were the visitors to Preston Avenue, for the first ever fixture between the two teams. The weather had been unsettled in the days leading up to the match and ended up having a major say in its conclusion, but more on that later. Tynemouth skipper Martin Pollard won the toss and asked Castle Eden to bat first. There was one late change to the Tynemouth side with the experienced Andrew Smith coming in for Sean Longstaff who had become a dad overnight. Congratulations to Sean and Ellis on the birth of their son!

Skipper Jonathan Malkin opened up with Benjamin Simpson, but their partnership did not last as Matty Brown had Simpson caught behind by Robbie Bowman without troubling the scorers. Muhaymen Majeed then joined his skipper and the two slowly started to put some runs on the board against the economical seam bowling of Brown, Owen Gourley and Andrew Smith. Brown (3/34) put in quite a shift and his 14 overs included the wickets of Malkin and Keith Bailey. Skipper Pollard brought himself on early this week and he produced a brute of a delivery to dismiss the patient Majeed who was caught off the glove by Matt Brown at slip. With just over a hundred on the board after 30 overs and with 4 wickets down, Pollard introduced his two leg spinners into the attack and Fred Harrison immediately took the wicket of Pakistani Professional Bilawal Iqbal for 6. This was a third catch in the match by Robbie Bowman who was once again impressing behind the stumps. The ball had certainly seamed around a bit and now the leggies found a bit of turn too, making for a good contest between bat and ball; one that Nick Sampson -Barnes was enjoying for the away side. The former Durham Academy player looked solid in defence and attacked anything loose from Harrison and his fellow leggie Josh Moors. Wickets kept coming though and Harrison ended up with four, and Moors with two, but the runs did too with Sampson- Barnes making a fine 64, and Phil Wimpenny a handy 23 before the spin twins cleaned out the tail. A total of 206 all out seemed an above par score on a wicket that was proving to be bowler friendly.

Bilawal Iqbal and Keith Bailey opened up for Castle Eden and produced an excellent and miserly opening spell against Ben Debnam and Stan McAlindon who survived but were put under huge pressure by some fine bowling. Bilawal is not a tall seamer, but he generates decent pace, moves the ball both ways and has great control of line and length. He used the conditions well, as did the left armed Bailey who made the batsmen both play pretty much every ball. Debnam went with the score on 23 and not long after Tynemouth lost 3 quick top order wickets for just 2 runs leaving them in trouble at 45 /4 and behind the clock.  The weather was also closing in. The in-form duo of Matt Brown and Josh Moors decided to play positively and some lovely strokes from both saw the score reach 81/4 off 25 overs when the players left the field for tea. It was during this break that the rain which was forecast arrived delaying the match for around an hour with the game in the balance. Spectators today included former Club Professionals Jonathan Benn and Masood Mirza along with former opening bowler John Callaghan. All three are hoping to return on 29^th June for the new Terrace naming ceremony at 1.30 pm. The match that day is against Newcastle, starting at 11.30. All former players and supporters are welcome to attend.

After the rain delay the umpires calculated that Tynemouth would only have a further 13 overs remaining of their innings meaning 38 overs in total. This meant a target of 207 for a win was beyond them but there were still 10 points on offer for a higher run rate in a drawn game. To achieve that Tynemouth needed at least 142 by the end of the 38^th over. Hence, 61 needed off 13 overs with 6 wickets in hand. With the reduction in overs, it also meant that the impressive Bailey was bowled out and Bilawal just had 4 left. On the resumption after a quiet couple of overs bowled by Malkin and Bilawal, Moors launched an assault on Malkin. However, Brown was caught in the same over. Joe Snowdon entered the fray and surprisingly Bilawal left it. Moors and Snowdon then put Tynemouth into the driving seat with only 20 runs needed from 7 overs to get the winning draw.

However the game was about to take a dramatic turn as Alan Unsworth came on to bowl and had Moors caught for an aggressive 38. Tynemouth were still favourites, however with Unsworth now accounting for Harrison and Gourley in consecutive balls the game had changed again in favour of the visitors. Bilawal returned and when he had Joe Snowdon caught in the slips, it was left to last pair Andrew Smith and Martin Pollard to negotiate the last 4 overs as the light began to fade. They did this successfully. A game where the winning draw should have been achieved but in fairness it was the visitors who played the better cricket for most of the game and were pressing for a win right to the last ball. Castle Eden’s winning draw was worth 17 points and Tynemouth secured 9 for their efforts leaving them in 4th place in the table.

Tynemouth 2s travelled to Castle Eden and only managed half a game before rain washed proceedings out. Batting first, Tynemouth made 250/7, with Marcus Turner (102) and Chris Fairley (93) scoring most of the runs. The Sunday 3s also saw their game away to Felling rained off at the midpoint. The top of the order, George Stewart (44), Zach Larner (37) and George Bogg (35) were in great touch; sadly, the less said of the 5 successive ducks that followed the better.

Some happy news from the Saturday 3s. A brace of fixtures against Percy Main 2s brought two crushing wins. Firstly, the Dr Tom Barlow Cup saw a visiting Tynemouth side rack up 200/3 from their 20 overs, largely on account of the runs provided by Hamish Swaddle-Scott (78) and Chris Beever (65). In return, Percy Main were dismissed for 36, with skipper Richy Hay (5/5) claiming a hat trick.

 On Saturday, in a league game on the back field, Percy Main batted first and amassed 38, partly on account of 6 dropped catches, one of which denied Ed Snelders his first hat trick since Neville Cardus wrote these reports. However Ed (3/11) would be the first to admit, his performance was eclipsed by a stunning spell by Emily Whiting (4/14), who was almost unplayable throughout her 9-over spell. In reply, the 3s claimed their first win of the season in a shade over 12 overs, to fight off any threat of inclement weather intervening.

I wasn’t included in the cup team, but as I was at work until 6.30, it didn’t particularly matter. Although, you know me; I’d have taken a day’s holiday if required. Instead, I got the call up for Saturday and enjoyed my role as a spectating ambulant, as we got home without too much difficulty. I particularly enjoyed Emily’s bowling. She’s a real talent and it helps to make our club more inclusive that women are playing for the senior teams. The only downside was the cloudburst after our game, which denied us the opportunity of watching the 1s.

June 22

After weeks of wet, cold and cloudy weather the summer finally arrived on Saturday for the first team’s visit to Ropery Lane, Chester Le Street. Home skipper Jacob McCann won the toss and decided to have a bowl first, a decision that proved correct. With Ben Debnam missing it was Marcus Turner who replaced him at the top of the order. This was Turner’s first NEPL Top Division appearance since June 2016, but he’s started the season in great form for the seconds and looked at home straight away. Stan McAlindon was his opening partner, but he was bowled by a lovely off cutter from Liam Simpson for just 3. Robbie Bowman joined Turner and the two had to work hard against swing and seam from Simpson at one end and the craft and accurate spin bowling from Quentin Hughes at the other. They dug in and took the score to 51 when Turner was bowled by Mark Watson for 26.

Robbie Bowman had had a huge let off when he only had 10 on the board when a chip to Andrew Smith at mid-on was somehow spilled, but along with Matthew Brown, he began to play with better timing and more confidence. Brown as ever showed some quality shots and the partnership had reached 77 and the score at 128 when Brown chipped one up to John Coxon at mid-wicket from a half tracker from Ashley Thorpe, a disappointing end to an encouraging partnership.

The game was nicely balanced at lunch at 132 /2, but the session after lunch though went Chester’s way and it was two spinners causing the damage with their accuracy on a wicket that showed a bit of variable bounce. Veteran Thorpe took a smart caught and bowled to dismiss Matt Kimmitt and then Durham Academy left arm spinner, Sebastian Hughes Pinan, who bowled with good rhythm throughout, snuck one through and under the defences of Robbie Bowman for a well-made and patient 67. Josh Moors came in and decided the innings needed some impetus. His 24 off just 16 balls included 2 fours and a maximum, but he was caught and bowled by Hughes Pinan attempting another big hit. It was now time for Thorpe to take over and whilst he will have bowled better spells; this one was good enough for the Tynemouth tail as he took the last four wickets ending with figures of 6/46 from his 12 overs. A final score of 206 all out was a reasonable total but below par. All of the home bowlers performed well, and they were backed up in the field by some fine ground fielding especially some outstanding boundary saves from Cole Pearce.

John Coxon and Jacob McCann opened the innings for the home side and started at a rattle scoring 40 from the first 6 overs from Sean Longstaff and Matty Brown. Longstaff, who has bowled superbly in recent games, struggled a bit with his line and both openers were swift to pounce on anything off target. Congratulations go to Sean and to Ellis on the birth of their son, Brady, this week. Maybe a few sleepless nights were catching up with him? Congratulations also go to Director of Cricket Andrew and Jenny Smith on the birth of their first child, Bertie.

Tynemouth skipper Martin Pollard was doing his best to stem the flow of runs but without success. He tried the medium pace of Josh Koen, off spin from himself and leg spin from Freddie Harrison and Josh Moors but no matter whatever questions he asked Coxon and McCann had the answers. The application of the heavy roller at half time perhaps expunged any variable bounce out of the wicket, and the Tynemouth team didn’t help themselves with a number of dropped catches, but this was a day to admire the batting of the Chester openers who chased down the score without loss and managed to both score undefeated centuries.

On Sunday, in the inaugural NEPL 100 competition that the Banks Salver has become, Tynemouth 1s travelled to Whitburn, with Castle Eden as the third side of a triangular tourney. In the first game, Whitburn (157/5) beat Tynemouth (131/9) by 26 runs. Matty Brown took plaudits for his performances with bat (44) and ball (3/19). In the second game, Tynemouth (152/9) beat Castle Eden (149/6) by the slender margin of 1 wicket. Matty Brown again impressed with the ball, returning 3/19 for the second game running, while Josh Moors (53) was the top batter. Unfortunately Whitburn’s victory over Castle Eden means it is they who go through to the last 8.

Meanwhile Tynemouth 2s hosted Chester le Street 2s at Preston Avenue, where they came out on top after a tremendous run chase. Batting first, the visitors posted an imposing 264/5, dominated by a huge opening partnership of 209 by Matthew Cranston (113) and Ethan Connolly (89). They declared after 46 overs, giving Tynemouth a generous 59 overs to get the runs. In the end, they did it 7 wickets down after 53 overs. Andrew Davison (70) had a good day, following on from his 3/32 in the first innings. However, the star of the show was Joel Hull-Denholm with a blistering 115, though Dan McGee’s unbeaten 45* that saw Tynemouth home also deserves great praise.

The Saturday 3s lost a close quarter final to Bedlington 2s in the Dr Tom Barlow Cup in midweek by the small margin of 6 runs, despite the best efforts of Hamish Swaddle-Scott (66*). On Saturday, it was a trip to the rural idyll of Wark, athwart the North Tyne, to play United Stars, on probably the most unkempt outfield in the league. The home side batted first and, despite the best efforts with the ball of skipper Richy Hay, Emily Whiting, Dom Askins and Ed Snelders, not to mention outstanding fielding displays by young debutants Ollie Coates (a breathtaking catch, followed by a calm run out) and Charlie Hall, registered 202/9. It seemed a big ask, and so it proved, as Tynemouth mustered 55 all out, despite the best efforts of Ewan Aditjandra (13), Emily Whiting (11) and the master of the late cut, Ollie Coates (10), not to mention ian cusack (1*), whose elegant cameo at the end of the innings featured a glorious shot through extra cover.

I’ve been to Wark twice before. Firstly, with football, as Percy Main gamely battled to a 7-2 howking by the once impressive but not sadly defunct home side. It was the end of January for that, but almost tropical compared to the first Saturday of the cricket season last year. We only had 10, but I still didn’t bat or bowl on a day so perishing that we all used those packet handwarmers to keep Raynaud’s Phenomenon at bay.  This game was played in pleasant sunshine, without the incessant baying of lambs at long off and cows at deep square, but a few home umpiring decisions knocked the stuffing out of us. When batting, I may have been stumped first ball, but Richy at square leg saw nothing in it, so consequently I managed my first run of the season and another unbeaten knock. All about the red inkers at this level…

June 29

The last Saturday in June saw a wonderful day’s cricket at Preston Avenue. In front of a large and expectant crowd, Tynemouth (304/7) comprehensively trounced Newcastle (202 all out) by the handsome margin of 102 runs. Not only that, but those in attendance were privileged to see the naming ceremony for the Duncan Nisbet Terrace, which continues the club’s progression off the field. On it, things are going swimmingly as well.

Batting first, Tynemouth compiled 304/7 from 53 overs. This impressive total was largely due to Josh Moors (100) completing his second NEPL century of the season, from only 53 balls. It contained 12 boundaries and 4 maximums. Stan McAlindon (84) played a vital, more restrained role, while Robbie Bowman (32) and Matt Brown (31) played with stylish abandon. In response, Asher Hart (79) led the response, ably supported by Bobby Green (30), Ben Robinson (27) and the evergreen Jacques Du Toit (27). At 135/2, Newcastle seemed on course for victory, but the introduction of Tynemouth’s spinners proved crucial. Skipper Martin Pollard (2/42) began the fightback, before Freddy Harrison (4/43) and Josh Moors (3/31) secured the win. Newcastle collapsed from 196/5 at tea to 202 all out, underlining the superb efforts of the home side.

In the reverse fixture, Tynemouth 2s ground out a rugged losing draw away to Newcastle 2s. Bowling first, Tynemouth’s new fathers, Andrew Smith (1/39) and Sean Longstaff (1/47), had some success during a difficult afternoon in the field for the visitors. Newcastle posted an impressive 263/3 from 55 overs. In return, Tynemouth secured a losing draw, by amassing a gritty 232/9 from 50 overs. Joe Snowdon (102) was the top scorer and Patrick Hallam (45) provided solid support, though almost all batters dug in to avoid defeat.

Tynemouth Saturday 3s also avoided defeat, as they were the odd team out in their 13-team division. The Sunday 3s won by 10 runs against Ashington Academy. Batting first, the total of 189/5 was largely down to Joel Hull-Denholm (73*) and Ewan Aditjandra (30*), though Shams Oraikhil (27), George Stewart (26) and George Bogg (25) also played their parts. In response, Ashington closed on 179/8, with wickets (almost) shared between all 9 bowlers used.

The Sunday previous, Tynemouth Women’s softball teams, Gems and Willows, hosted Matfen and Warkworth. It was a day of glorious sunshine and a lovely atmosphere. Gems were playing on the back pitch against Matfen and continued their winning streak, scoring 70 runs to Matfens 42. Unfortunately, on the main square Warkworth beat Willows in a tight fought game losing by 77 runs to 84.

A free weekend meant glorious weather, predictably enough. Shelley and I, after a busy day at the gym and collecting my famous new Telecaster from Little Richard’s mam, had a few scoops and watching 1s win in great style. All in all; a decent day out.

July 6

The first Saturday of July was a frustrating one for Tynemouth Cricket Club, with two fixtures washed out and one conceded. The first XI hosted Burnmoor, with rain causing the cancellation of the game at lunch. This was a fortuitous turn of events as the visitors had, at one stage, reduced Tynemouth to 61/7. However, an unbroken partnership of 53 by Matthew Kimmitt (37*) and Barry Stewart (27*) saw Tynemouth progress to 114/7 when the weather intervened.

Tynemouth 2s travelled to Hetton Lyons, where the home side had reached 169/4 when the rain arrived. The outstanding Tynemouth bowler was Emily Whiting, promoted on the back of some superb performances for the 3s. In this game, she returned figures of 3/39, showing the quality she possesses. On Friday, the 2s had played an NEPL T20 group game away to Sunderland. This curious melange of players, including sprightly 59-year-old debutant ian cusack, batted first and amassed 145/6. Dan McGee (74) lead the charge, with support from Patrick Hallam (36) and George Stewart (14). Sunderland chased down the runs with 2 overs to spare, despite the best efforts of McGee (2/21) and a tidy spell by Lewis Hurst (1/14).

Unfortunately, the Saturday 3s, having seen several certain starters called up to the 2s, were unable to raise a team and so conceded their away fixture to Stamfordham. The Sunday 3s were also victims of the weather. They batted first against Whitburn, posting 177/5 from 35 overs with George Stewart (51) and Patrick Hallam (31), but a potentially close game ended with Whitburn on 50/1. Let’s hope for better weather next week.

The 3s were struggling to field a team from the get-go and, with only 6 certainties on Thursday, Richy bowed to the inevitable and conceded. This was a great shame for a number of reasons. Firstly, it’s always lousy when the numbers won’t add up. Secondly, we could have done with the points (and in the end, we’d probably have got 5 for the inevitable abandonment). Thirdly, I’ve never played at Stamfordham so fancied another ground to tick off. Therefore, Saturday meant Shelley and I could go and watch Percy Main v Marske United, though I did manage some cricket as well.

Waking up on the sofa, drunk and delirious after the Labour landslide, it became clear that I’d somehow agreed to play for the 2s in a T20 game at Sunderland on the Friday night. The reality of this and the shocking state of intoxication I’d found myself in meant a difficult day of painkillers, dozing and hi-carb food, before I was able to make my way, via a lift, to the beautiful, if slightly decaying, surroundings of Ashbrooke. Wearing Benno’s (unwashed) kit, I thankfully wasn’t required to bat and when fielding, spent most of their innings hiding out at square leg. We lost but didn’t do too badly and I can now say I’ve played for all 3 senior sides at TCC.

July 13

I was in the side due to host GEMS 2s, but as the back garden resembled a lake first thing, it was no surprise the game was called off. Instead, Shelley and I took in Percy Main v North Shields in the Gary Hull Memorial Trophy.

July 20

After the complete washout that was Saturday 13th July, Tynemouth Cricket Club enjoyed a clean slate of victories the week after. The first XI travelled to Hexham to take on Tynedale, returning with an emphatic 8-wicket victory, having skittled the home side for 125. Aussie Josh Moors was the star of the show, returning figures of 12-2-34-6. Tynemouth knocked off the runs in a shade under 23 overs, largely due to Matthew Kimmitt’s unbeaten 82.

Tynemouth 2s had been active, in between last week’s rain showers. Friday 12th July saw them defeat Hetton Lyons in an NEPL T20 group game. The visitors batted first and made 127/6, with Andrew Davison’s 2/21 an important feature in restricting the total. In response, Tynemouth won by 8 wickets, with Patrick Hallam (43*), Joel Hull-Denholm (35) and veteran, interim Chair Andrew Lineham (33*) getting the side home. On Wednesday 17th July, the 2s progressed in the Roseworth Trophy with a 9 wicket win over Lanchester. The visitors batted first and made 101/7, with bowling plaudits going to Lewis Hurst (3/19) and Dom Askins (3/20). In response, Joel Hull-Denholm (60*) and the ageless, interim Chair Andrew Lineham (21*) made the victory a racing certainty.

On Saturday 20th July, Tynemouth 2s posted 222/8 declared against Whitburn at Preston Avenue. Marcus Turner (116) lead the way, with support from Dan McGee (36), the similarly named but unrelated Anthony Turner (27) and the unbeatable, mature interim Chair Andrew David Lineham (11*). In response, Whitburn were dismissed for 175, mainly because of the efforts of Richy Hay (3/12), Neil Bennett (3/42) and Andrew Smith (2/19), who is now Tynemouth’s record wicket taker of the Play Cricket era.

Even better news came from the Saturday 3s, who beat Blaydon by 51 runs.  Strengthened by the absence of ian cusack, Tynemouth batted first and posted 109 all out. Top scorer Vishaal Goel (32) was helped out by the club’s most prominent processed pork addict Dan Watt (12), who had an even better time with the ball. His 7-0-20-5 was absolutely vital in securing the victory, though Ed Snelders (6-2-9-3) also played an important part in dismissing Blaydon for 58.

The cherry on the cake was provided by the Sunday 3s, who saw off Burnopfield by 6 wickets. The visitors batted first and were bowled out for 186. Wickets were shared around all 7 bowlers, but the runs to see Tynemouth home came mainly from Patrick Hallam (71*) and George Stewart (54). Well done to all teams!!

As those of you who read these things with have noted, I was at Arbroath 0 Annan Athletic 3 on this particular Saturday, so the report was compiled from the stats on Play Cricket.

July 27

Yet again, lousy weather conspired against Tynemouth, with home fixtures against Sunderland for the 1s and Annfield Plain 2s for the Saturday 3s, abandoned before a meaningful result was established. On the front pitch, Tynemouth 1s batted first and made 91/3 from 21 overs, before rain ended proceedings. On the back pitch, the 3s, including 7 players under the age of 16, expertly skippered by Rohan George, bowled against Annfield Plain. The visitors were 103/3 when regular showers began a raging monsoon. Credit must go to both George Bogg (2/19) and Rohan George (1/28 from 9 overs) for their efforts with the ball; not so much to ian cusack though, whose final over saw the game grind to an unsatisfactory halt.

In contrast, Tynemouth 2s made short work of their trip to Sacriston 2s, winning by 6 wickets. The home side were dismissed for 129 in 40 overs, mainly due to the efforts of Josh Koen (4/16) and Andrew Smith (3/10). The runs required were chased down in 25 overs, with top scorer Andrew Linehan (32*) continuing his impersonation of Don Bradman in 1930, ably supported by Patrick Hallam (28) and Dom Askins (27*) who, with a wicket in the first innings, continues to impress at this level. Sadly, the 2s had less luck in their Banks Bowl 100 qualifying group on Sunday, losing to both Whitburn and Lanchester, bowing out of the competition in the process.

This is always the toughest weekend of the season for the 3s. Two years ago, we had a team that consisted of me, Ed and 9 embryos. On that day, Newcastle racked up 240 and skittled us for 24. It was brutal, bruising stuff. Last year, I had to captain us against Leadgate. We only had 3 bowlers and 2 bairns, who weren’t that much cop to be honest. Again, Leadgate got almost 250 and we were obliterated for 29. I headed home straight afterwards for a soak in a hot tub, the water cooled and diluted by my salt tears of rage and shame. So, to this year and the visit of Annfield Plain 2s. We’d lost a great game to them on a sunny May afternoon at Enterprise Park. They’re a team I have great respect for and I felt desperately sorry for what turned out to be their wasted journey.

With Richy, Dom and Strez all moved up to the 2s, we were 27 overs down. Rohan, who captained, could bowl 9 and I was scheduled to bowl a few (4 in the end), while the rest of the overs had to come from among 6 of the 7 under 16s who made up the team. The two dads who were helping out didn’t bowl and the other youngster was our 12-year-old keeper. Yup, Tynemouth CC is nothing but inclusive. I tell you what, despite rain ruining the contest and probably stopping us from losing, this was one hell of an enjoyable day out. Alright, so the noon cloudburst put us behind schedule and meant we only got going once Rohan and I had mopped up the excess water from the covers, but these kids were enthusiastic, sharp in the field and truly committed. Young George Bogg bowled at a hell of a lick and deserved his 2 wickets, while the older McAvelia brother bowled some lovely left arm spin.

Ironically, the minute I had the ball in my hand for the 20^th over, the rain came down and we lost another 30 minutes play. At this point, thoughts of reducing the overs appeared academic as the forecast was so dreadful. All we could do was hope to get on so both teams could earn a few points. We came back and I ended up bowling 4 overs for 23. One of their batsmen almost played on in my first over and then, with the last ball of the game, he spooned it up almost to square leg, but I think the fact the ball had squirted out my hand like the proverbial bar of soap had been enough to persuade the captains to shake hands before it even landed. One thing I learned from this spell is to stop overthinking my bowling. I had a typically attacking field, with long on, long off, cow and deep square. My stock ball being the hip high full toss outside leg stump, the latter position came into play. Unfortunately, the batter clubbed me for six, the ball going about 3 feet over the fielder’s head. Two balls later, I decided to flight one up, certain he’d pick out either long on or long off. My instinct on the distance he’d hit was perfect, though he neatly bisected the two of them for a one bounce boundary. So much for theory, eh?

Anyway, game abandoned at half three and the same story on the front pitch. I had a quick coffee in the pavilion and waited for the rain to ease. In fact, it stopped, the sun came out and I had to wear sunglasses as I wandered for the bus, contemplating the fact we’ve had 8 games rained off this season. I hope it stays nice on August 10^th for my birthday party.

 

The Devastation of Arbroath

It’s hard work this groundhopping lark, you do realise. Once you’ve factored in a 24-week cricket season, including the usual 8 abandonments for the weather, and 30 Northern Alliance games for Percy Main Amateurs (no floodlights meaning midweek games only possible in August, April and May), there aren’t a huge number of spare Saturdays left to go round. However, if you’re approaching 60 years of age and are determined to do the full 42 Scottish set, then a bit of thought and some proper planning is required so you can make inroads into the obscure and, as yet, unvisited Caledonian wastelands.

Following trips to: Bonnyrigg Rose, Dundee, East Fife and Kelty Hearts, I had managed to tick off 30 SPFL grounds by the start of 2024/2025 season. Of the dozen remaining, only one is in the West, the almost inaccessible outlier of Stranraer. As a non-driver from Newcastle, the only hope I’ve got for visiting Stair Park is Keir Starmer’s investment policy for the railways to include the reopening of the Carlisle to Stranraer line that Dr Beeching axed the year after I was born. Looking to the East and North, the remaining 11 targets split nicely into those than can be done in a day (Arbroath, Dundee United, Forfar, Montrose and St Johnstone) that are in the Tayside and Angus region, and the half dozen up in the Highlands that require an overnight stay (Aberdeen, Cove Rangers, Elgin City, Inverness Caledonian Thistle, Peterhead and Ross County). Unexpectedly, circumstances presented me with a spare Saturday in mid-July (Tynemouth CC 3s being without a game and Percy Main opting to train rather than search for friendly opposition), thus the Scottish League Cup group stages offered me and my pal Big Gary a chance to take the High Road.

Having checked the fixtures, Arbroath v Annan Athletic stood out, because I’d heard so many good things about the ground, as well as the fact the train times were favourable. Both Dundee United and Forfar were also at home, but a 5.15 kick off at Tannadice ruled that one out, as did the thought of a bus trip from Dundee to Forfar’s anachronistically named Station Park (curse you Dr Beeching!!), so Gayfield Park, site of Arbroath’s famous 36-0 win over Bon Accord in 1885, it had to be.

We left Newcastle at about 9.45 on a pretty packed train; the usual day tripping bevvy merchants and glamorous grannies mainlining Prosecco were augmented by a sizeable number of Man United and Rangers replica shirt clad Christmas Trees, prised from their sofas because of the number of tickets available for a pre-season “friendly,” if there could be such a thing between those clubs, taking place at Murrayfield (capacity 67,144). The second train, from Edinburgh heading north was considerably less populated, though Scot Rail’s abridged summer timetable probably accounted for more bums on less seats. It was a pretty journey up, across the firths of Forth and Tay, through the Kingdom of Fife, past Raith Rovers ground, close to Broughty Ferry where Scotland were playing Namibia in a 50-over game (they won by 6 wickets), up past Carnoustie and into Arbroath by 12.58, where the smell of the sea is refreshingly overpowering from the moment you step on the platform.

We were in the West Port Hotel by 12.59 and out again by ten past, returning to collect my forgotten phone almost immediately afterwards. It seemed a decent, well-presented semi trendy spot that advertised its support for the Red Lichties, though the most interesting thing about the place was the hair-raising array of sex toys available from a vending machine in the bogs. No, I didn’t sample the wares. I stuck to the beer. As is the case in such off the beaten track locations, there’s no point in trying to sample an elite range of craft ales; Scotland drinks Tennent’s and on a warm, cloudy Saturday afternoon in July you have to go with the flow. Especially if you’ve not had a beer all week.

Arbroath’s main drag is a gently sloping, slightly curved and not unpleasant high street, boasting an artisanal cheese shop and several takeaways, which were all closed, denying us the chance to sample the local delicacy of a smokie. Still, we had been advised as to the quality of the pies at the ground, so we stuck to a liquid diet. Second pub, The Anchor, saw Gary (just turned 55) as the youngest customer in there. Quite why the jukebox was blaring out Whigfield’s Saturday Night (at 1.15 in the afternoon) loud enough for it to be a Swans or Rammstein tribute band, is beyond me. As was the fact every pub, and I mean every pub, we went into played Creedence Clearwater Revival; Proud Mary, Bad Moon Rising and Have You Ever Seen the Rain? all got outings as we kept on chooglin’ pints into us.

Historically, Arbroath is most famous for the 1320 Declaration of Arbroath, which was a two fingered salute to English hegemony. That all seems rather sad after the evisceration of the SNP in the recent election that effectively means calls for a chicken in every pot and a stolen motor home on every drive have been silenced forever, even if the locals did return an SNP representative to Westminster on July 4^th. Then again, if the habitues of Bar 1320 are representative of the local electorate, you wonder if universal suffrage is a good idea. The barmaid, who had confidently announced that Annan was “just outside Glasgow,” was attempting to teach a bladdered bon vivant in a Celtic shirt, how to play dominoes. It was a concept too challenging for his cerebral cortex, to say the least. Quite a few old soaks in The Anchor were clearly heading to the game and several more, including the Annan contingent of whacky English HMHB style fans, in Bar 1320 looked likely to be heading there as well. In fact, I saw 3 of the local Man at C&A summer casuals leaving the ground at half time…

Before then, we hit our final pre match refreshment stop, The Foundry Bar. I’ve heard legend that this is a popular pit stop for busloads of Aberdeen fans en route to Dundee United, mainly so they can blast out that old Billy Fury classic, Halfway to Tannadice. Makes a change from Born on the Bayou or Run Through the Jungle I suppose. Anyway, the barmaid clocked our accents, said how much she liked Newcastle and gave us happy hour double Black Bottles to go with the compulsory Tennent’s. By now it was 2.45 and I needed a sleep more than more beer, so we went to the ground.

The entrance was 100 yards away and I found myself immediately behind SPFL Chief Executive Neil Doncaster in the queue to get in. He’s not as tall as you’d think and of course I said hello, but I spent more energy on savouring the exquisite steak and black pudding pie than on any chat with him. Divine moist chunks of meat in a thick, peppery gravy with a storming base layer of viscous, gritty black pudding. I could have had half a dozen but restricted myself to one.

Gayfield Park in a brilliant ground. You come in on the same side as the Main Stand, that covers about half of one touchline. Either end sees uncovered terracing give way to a covered shed, which home fans migrate from end to the other at half time. The far side is a covered shed, with uncovered terracing, that must be about 50 feet from the North Sea. Next stop; Norway. The beachside path has more camper vans parked on it than Dunfermline cop shop after a Polis visit to Peter Murrell’s mother. Seriously, this place is up there with all my favourite ramshackle old Scottish grounds. The only bad part about the day was the game, as the home side turned in a performance as woeful as any I’ve seen in the last few seasons.

Gary and I had seen Annan, big, strong and predominantly Cumbrian or even Lancastrian going by the players’ accents, steal a draw in a dismal 1-1 at Kelty back in January, but from the very start, there was only going to be one winner. Annan have improved rapidly, and Arbroath look in danger of a second successive tumble, if this is to be indicative of Scottish League 1 in the coming 9 months. In the Scottish League Cup, the 5 European qualifiers are exempted until the first knockout round (of 16), which the remaining 37 teams are split into 8 groups of 5, with Brechin City, Buckie Thistle, East Kilbride from the non-league ranks. The 8 group winners and 3 best runners-up get the chance to have their arses handed to them by Celtic’s reserves at a half full Parkhead as a reward. Arbroath, recently relegated from the Scottish Championship to League 1, had begun their campaign in fine style, with a 2-0 home loss to Dundee, while Annan had seen off Big Dunc’s Inverness CT 1-0 at home before drawing 1-1 with Bonnyrigg. In such circumstances, there is a penalty shoot out and the winners take 2 points and Annan had done just that.

We had our fingers crossed that there would be no penalty shoot-out to delay us, though we needn’t have worried as I don’t believe Arbroath tested the Annan keeper all game. The opener came on the half hour, when towering Tommy Goss planted an unstoppable header in the Arbroath net. Worse was to come when the home side’s Scott Stewart saw red on 42 minutes for a horrible, over the top, ankle breaker. Arbroath never recovered and Josh Dixon sealed the win with an explosive effort from 20 yards. We called it a day as the haar from the sea was turning to rain, just missing the final goal when Josh Todd waltzed through a static home defence deep into injury time. You can watch it on YouTube. We did on our phones, after buying a carry out for the train and grabbing a last pint in The Station Bar, which boasted some forthcoming entertainment; “indie classics tonight from star vocalist Iain Brown.” Presumably backed by The Stonehaven Roses…

Anyway, many cans of G&T later, punctuated by a pit stop in Edinburgh’s best pub The Guildford in something of a monsoon, I was poured out of a taxi around 10.30 and guided quickly to bed. What a brilliant day. I’d even bought a 4 pack of Tennent’s and an Arbroath fridge magnet for Shelley, as I’m all heart. So, what happens next? Well, the cricket season ends on September 21^st, but there’s engineering works on the Newcastle to Edinburgh section around then, so it looks as if October 26^th is my next feasible date for a day out, with Montrose versus Cove Rangers my intended location. Travelling by train isn’t cheap, but the fact I can avail myself of an Over 60s railcard from August 11^th onwards does sweeten the pill somewhat.

Mystery of Spain

The 2024 European Championships dissected...

Mystery of Spain: In a secret garden, a girl gets screwed up the ass. Later, on a lonely road, a couple have problems with their car. The girl invites them back to her castle and offers them champagne, strawberries and plenty of double penetration...

Like every major international tournament, I began my consumption of it with a cynical, nay jaundiced, view over proceedings that was soon replaced by support for the underdogs, contempt for the prima donna popinjays and a level of furious engagement with the latter stages that borders on the obsessional. During the 2024 Euros, I discovered a level of affection for Austria, Georgia and Turkey that I’d not been conscious of in the past. Such support for the little guys was subsequently overtaken by a profound admiration for a Spanish side that effortlessly negotiated a smooth passage to a wholly justified triumph over a late blooming England side that almost threw off the shackles of dismally cautious non-football that had besmirched their first 4 games in Germany.

Meanwhile Scotland, who finished dead last in terms of goal difference and points gained, were a stain on the whole tournament. Not just because of the fact Clarke’s side were abject on the pitch, or because of his ungracious, racist rant about the Argentinian referee in their final game against Hungary, but because of the sickening, chauvinistic posturing of a section of their support. These anti-democratic thugs, unable to accept the fact that the electorate had decisively rejected the ultra-nationalist hate speech of the Scotch Nazi Party, fell back on Francoist, anti-English rhetoric and thus shamed their whole region. Wannabe Fuhrer John Swinney has much to answer for. A chicken in every pot and a stolen motor home on every driveway, my arse!

Over the course of 31 days, we saw 51 games, in which there were 117 goals. The tournament, which began on Friday 14 June, seemed to go on forever. I missed the first game (Germany 5 Scotland 1) as that was the night of my infamous Blyth gig (https://payaso-de-mierda.blogspot.com/2024/06/blyth-dispirited.html) and the first two on the Saturday (Hungary 1 Switzerland 3 and Croatia 0 Spain 3) as I was playing cricket, though I made it back for Albania 1 Italy 2, with its explosive opening that saw the Tirana tyros take the lead in 27 seconds. The rest of the first half was compelling viewing, with Italy producing their only decent football of the whole tournament to fight back. A soporific second period saw them revert to type and indicated that the current holders of the trophy would not be contenders for this year’s competition.

Sunday 16 June saw me continuing with a laissez faire attitude to events in Germany. We were out shopping for a new bed for the spare room, so I didn’t get to see much of Netherlands 2 Poland 1 or Denmark 1 Slovenia 1, other than the goals. It was nice to see Christian Eriksen playing such a prominent role, 3 years after his terrible collapse during the last Euros. Talking about a terrible collapse, England 1 Serbia 0 began in exciting fashion, with Saka and Bellingham enjoying a blistering opening half an hour, before regressing to a hopeless waste of time after the break. England’s timid second half withdrawal was seen most clearly in the non-performances of Foden, Rice and Alexander-Arnold who were dire all evening. Connor Gallagher proved himself to be a zero-trick pony, whose default tactic is to chase after the ball like a frantic Jack Russell pursuing a paper bag on a breezy day down the park. He might show a bit of urgent energy, but at the end of the day, such a performance in international football is about as effective as playing Jarrod Bowen at right back, which Southgate did.

On the Monday, and this will become a regular theme, I missed Romania 3 Ukraine 0 and Belgium 0 Slovakia 1 because I was at work and then playing 6-a-side. Despite two years in the Slovak capital of Bratislava, at the turn of the millennium, I’ve no real affection or connection with the current side, as none of them were playing (or in several instances, born) when I used to cheer on Petrzalka at Stary Most. In fact, other than Dubravka, I’m not sure I’ve heard of any of their squad. The last game of the day, Austria 0 France 1, was dull to the point of sterility, which is just how Deschamps likes it. France, even more than England, insist on playing with the handbrake on, in all possible circumstances. Frankly, the only enjoyable part of the whole game was seeing Mbappe’s nose expanding across his entire face, to give him a bugle as big as his ego. Those of us who remember Carlos Bilardo could laugh and smile.

Tuesday 18 June saw the first brilliant game of the tournament; Georgia 1 Turkey 3. Of course I missed it, partly while I was still at work and then while I was cycling home. I got back in time for Czech Republic 1 Portugal 2, unfortunately, as two of the biggest twats ever to play football since Samir Nasri retired (Bruno Fernandes and Ronaldo, as if you needed to ask), somehow came out on top courtesy of Primary School defending in a game that stunk the place out for the opening 75 minutes and more. At full time, every team had played at least once and, of the 34 goals scored, I’d managed to see 8 of them live.

I missed another 4 in the opening game on Wednesday 19 June; Albania 2 Croatia 2 was a cracker by all accounts, typically enough. I quite enjoyed Germany 2 Hungary 0 as the hosts oscillated between efficiency and entertainment, showing they’ve possibly got their mojo back after a decade in the wilderness. The day ended with Scotland 1 Switzerland 1. The Jocks are rapidly becoming a kind of international version of the Mackems, revelling in the discomfort of their local rivals rather than pretending to support their own team. In many ways, aided by Schar’s bizarre own goal, they didn’t play too badly, but I would still have been punching the air in delight if they’d got bounced out at this early stage.

Work can be good for some things, avoiding Serbia 1 Slovenia 1 for instance. Mind that was a classic compared to Denmark 1 England 1. After taking the lead, England gave up and by half time Shearer and the panel were tearing strips off Southgate’s side. Kane appeared to be suffering from narcolepsy and Southgate had Bellingham playing like Des Hamilton. Must have been one hell of a half time talk, as they were worse after the break. An utterly abject performance, mirrored by Italy’s incompetence as Spain toyed with them in a 1-0 victory in the late game. I didn’t see this, as Ben and I were at the Peony TQ gig at The Globe. Quality band. Check them out.

On Friday, Shelley and I were privileged to attend Lewis’s leavers’ assembly and barbecue. As it was such an honour to be there, on a glorious sunny afternoon I had no compunction about missing Slovakia 1 Ukraine 2 and Austria 3 Poland 1, though catching up on the highlights later, Austria looked tremendous. I got back in time for the charade that was France 0 Netherlands 0. After VAR had worked so perfectly in the tournament thus far, it took the intervention of the Premier League to make things go tits up. Taylor and Attwell’s imbecilic decision to chalk off a perfectly legitimate Dutch goal showed that England was the only country to have worse officials than their team at the Euros.

Saturday gave us Belgium 2 Romania 0, Czech Republic 1 Georgia 1, and Portugal 3 Turkey 0. I didn’t see a ball kicked as I was cricketing up in Wark (1* courtesy of an elegant drive past extra cover) and then imbibing with Chloe as she was home from university for the weekend. Thus, with all teams having played twice, I’d managed to see 12 of the 61 goals scored.

So, into the final series of group games. I don’t think the Euros should include 24 teams. My preference would be for 16, as allowing teams who finish third a 66% chance of getting to the knockout stages seems to both devalue the quality and needlessly extended the length of the tournament. Of course, sporting considerations fall far below economic ones for UEFA, who regard selling TV rights and advertising spots of prime importance, even when the whole event takes place during German monsoon season on pitches you’d struggle to find in the Northern Alliance.

Talking of alliances, Scotland had played their first game in Berlin, spiritual home of the Scotch Nazi Party, then cosied up to the masters of Tartan gold storage, Switzerland, before playing against the country that is ruled by John Swinney’s ideological bedfellow Viktor Orban, Hungary. Bereft of ideas and without a shot offered in anger, Scotland limped out of the tournament unmourned by all of us who love football. Their atrocious fans would not be a miss either, though worst of all was Steve Clarke’s bitter, xenophobic rant about the Argentine referee that bordered on the racist. How ironic, when his countrymen have spent 38 years revelling in Maradona’s handball that they should have complaints about one of his own, even though the referee was spot on in his decisions. Meanwhile, Germany and Switzerland drew 1-1, seeing both teams go through.

On Monday 24 June, I opted out of Albania 0 Spain 1, as the Spaniards had already qualified, to watch Croatia 1 Italy 1. Until that late thunderbolt of an equaliser, Italy had looked as bereft and clueless as Scotland or England. Even then, such is the nature of the draw that Switzerland looked better equipped to advance to the quarter finals. I’ve no real affection for Croatia either, other than as a holiday destination, mainly because Modric could give Ronaldo a run for his money in the narcissism stakes. It was nice to see such a messianic pillock end his career in such dire circumstances.

Tuesday 25 June offered a double header of knockout football. Sadly, being at work until 18.30 and then needing to cycle the 5 miles home, I missed Austria 3 Netherlands 2 and France 1 Albania 1, whereby only the latter country didn’t make it to the knockout stage. Instead, I pedalled furiously to get back in plenty of time for Denmark 0 Serbia 0 and England 0 Slovenia 0. Do I really need to tell you this was an absolute load of steaming horseshit? Or that is was even worse than the earlier games as Southgate’s idiotic tactics and imbecilic team selections conspired to make this the absolute nadir of the whole tournament. Anthony Gordon arrived on the pitch with 88:45 on the clock and did more in 3 minutes than Foden did in 3 games. I bet the other game was a classic as well.

Wednesday saw me plump for Slovakia 1 Romania 1 in preference to Belgium 0 Ukraine 0. It wasn’t a great game, but the second half thunderstorm was a brilliant spectacle. I’m glad Ukraine went out for ideological reasons, of course. The final group games were an awful lot of fun; Georgia 2 Portugal 0 gave the best moments of the tournament so far, with Ronaldo pouting his way around the pitch, showing off a slapped arse face. The Czech Republic 1 Turkey 2 game also looked a tasty spectacle, with 16 booked and 2 sent off, as the ref had some kind of hissy fit, and the game ended in the kind of square go you’d normally associate with a taxi rank on Christmas Eve. Shame there were only 81 goals in 36 games mind.

After a relentless schedule in the group stages, we were blessed with two rest days before the last 16 games began on Saturday 29 June. First up Switzerland cuffed Italy aside 2-0, before Germany breezed past Denmark with the same score. I sort of caught bits of both games as we were watching Tynemouth 1s dismantle Newcastle 1s by over 100 runs, not to mention an earlier trip to the gym and collecting a gifted Telecaster (thanks Richard!). It made for a busy day, despite the fact Tynemouth 3s were without a game. No surprise Italy went out, but the Germany v Denmark encounter featured another Stuart Attwell disaster, incorrectly denying Denmark at one end and harshly penalising them at the other within the space of 30 seconds. There was also a superb thunderstorm that took the players off the pitch as the lightning flashed insanely overhead.

On Sunday 30 June, the eventual finalists came through their first sudden death games; one with slightly more style than the other, it has to be said. After 93 minutes, Slovakia led England 1-0, in a game that made the loss to Iceland in 2016 seem a good workout in comparison. Then Bellingham, with an attitude grounded in the arrogant entitlement only sons of coppers and players for Franco’s XI could have, scored an amazing equaliser to take it to extra time. In our excitement, Shelley and I looked away for a few minutes and somehow missed Kane’s goal. From then on, there was only one winner as Slovakia had no response to give, but it truly is baffling quite why England, with the array of attacking talent they have, are so infuriatingly timid when it comes to tournament football. Being honest, Slovakia were as dull and limited as Slovenia before them, but a silly collision gifted them a goal. The fact England scraped through to the last 8 will be seen by Southgate as justifying his miserable methods. Contrast this with the unbidden joy of Georgia 1 Spain 4. After going a goal down, Spain shrugged misfortune away and battered Georgia, who never gave up, whatever the score. The result was a great game that put a smile rather than a grimace on your face.

Into July and Monday gave us a pair of brutal non-events; Belgium 0 France 1 and Portugal 0 Slovenia 0. Played football and missed the first and then kept my fingers crossed for Slovenia. When Ronaldo missed from the spot, I mused that with him and Modric retiring, thank goodness there is Bellingham to step up to the plate in the role of messianic self-appointed football genius. Remind me; what club do they all have in common? Anyway, the pampered prick lived to fight another day, courtesy of his keeper’s shoot-out heroics, showing Slovenia know how to defend, but don’t know how to attack.

A late finish at work, meant the usual Tuesday classic early game, as the Netherlands hit their stride, banjoing Romania 3-0. I’ve had a soft spot for the Dutch since the 1974 World Cup, so I was pleased. Even more pleased I got back for the game of the tournament; Austria 1 Turkey 2. The other 2 best attacking sides of the tournament, bar Spain and Georgia, went at it hammer and tongs from the first whistle. Mad goals. Crazy scrambles. Heroic defending on a saturated pitch. This was proper football and it brough up exactly 100 goals in the competition as we marked the end of the Tories with 2 days off before the quarter finals.

I love General Election nights and I was up all night watching the Tories getting their arses handed to them. Awakening at 8.45 on the sofa, I found I’d somehow agreed to turn out for Tynemouth 2s in a T20 cup game away to Sunderland 2s that evening. As I felt like death, this did not initially appeal. However, I pulled myself round and, although we got beat by 6 wickets, I enjoyed it. On reflection though, I am not sure I should have missed a game as pivotal as Spain knocking out the hosts, especially as NUFC legend Mikel Merino got the winner. I got back home for the extra time and penalties of the rancid rubbish that was France 0 Portugal 0. I truly despised the approach of both teams and only my contempt for Ronaldo made me stick with it until the end.

The rain came down on Saturday morning, meaning Tynemouth 3s trip to Stamfordham was called off. A serious gym session and a sobering afternoon at Percy Main 0 Marske United 6 set me up for England 1 Switzerland 1. This was a slight upgrade in performance, but not a massive one. Despite the superb set of penalties, I didn’t really buy into the sudden uptick in social media applause for Southgate’s timid tactics, though I think they deserved to win. As the whole week had been upside down, we headed off to Tesco to do the week’s shop after this game and missed Netherlands 2 Turkey 1. Frankly, I’m not really sure I’d want to be in a supermarket at 9.30 on a Saturday night ever again.

Another couple of days relaxation before the real business end of the tournament. Spain again proved that they are the best team in Germany and, probably, between than their 2012 iteration that blitzed Italy 4-0 in the final, when beating France 2-1. Despite going a goal down, they showed style and ruthless self-belief in battering the French down. They scored two of the best goals of the tournament and could have had several more from an outstanding performance.

Incredibly, England’s 2-1 win over the Netherlands on the Wednesday was almost as good, certainly in the first half. Coming back from a goal down, that Pickford ought to have saved, via a fortuitous penalty, England were excellent until the break. The second period saw the Dutch tighten things up but, incredibly, a Southgate substitute won the game. Ollie Watkins’s turn and shot was a moment of unbelievable, individual genius that settled a tight game between two good sides. It should be remembered for what it meant. A seemingly sterile England managed to belatedly throw off their manager-imposed shackles and played some good football. As a result, they reached a final on foreign soil for the first time ever. Well played them.

In the end, as we all suspected, it wasn’t enough. With 117 goals in 51 games, it was a good tournament, but not a great one. And the best team assuredly won. Unlike 3 years ago, there wasn’t the discernible air of expectation or the rampant jingoism in the air. Perhaps the lousy weather also intervened. This was Spain and we all knew who was favourite. There was no disgrace in losing to such a good side and being honest, not much to complain about from the final. ITV won the televised contest 10-0 over the BBC in terms of panellists and pundits, but it was closer on the pitch than that. The fact Pickford had the best game I’ve ever seen him have tells you a lot about this final. Alright, so Southgate could have gone for it at 1-1 and died bravely, but that was never going to be his way. Saka and Cole Palmer were indispensable and will remain so. The final was one game too many for Mainoo, but he’ll come again. Declan Rice isn’t good enough. England need Gordon to start and Trippier, Kane and Walker to retire. Now Southgate has resigned, I presume it’ll be Potter who takes over, but I bet Howe would love it as the NUFC shit show is about to really hit the fan when the PIF pull the plug on financial investment.

X-Ratings

The General Election eh? Here's what I think...

I think I might have told you this before, but my first conscious political act, was chanting “Heath is a cunt” with my mate Sten outside Falla Park Juniors, which was both our primary school and local polling station, meaning we had election day off and could thus engage in such profane sloganeering. It was in February 1974, and I was 9 years of age. What this action demonstrates is both my eidetic memory for General Election nights, of which more in a minute, and my lifelong, unbending hatred of the Tory Party. I’m not sure if it was before that election or the later one in October 1974 when the auld fella taught me Nye Bevan’s correct pronouncement that Conservatives were “lower than vermin,” but it’s a statement I’ve held close to my heart this last half century. I believe in it as strongly today as I did then. Indeed, I’ll go to my grave knowing of its simple, inarguable truth. I hate the Tories even more than I hate Sunderland AFC. Try that one on for size.

So, having cut my teeth in 1974, by staying up late for the results of the October election, as it took place during half term, I began a series of nocturnal, psephological devotions to BBC1. Back then it was David Dimbleby, Robin Day and Bob McKenzie presenting things and you could tell they were even more downcast about the result as I was in 1979, when Thatcher came to power and Britain, effectively, became a police state. If you look at the continued conduct of the Met, little has changed in the 45 years that have followed. Somewhat ironically, I wasn’t that fussed about the 1979 election as I was fully in thrall of the extra parliamentary left. The Parliamentary Road to Socialism had bypassed Felling Square. While I hadn’t, as yet, come across the impossibilist position of the Socialist Party of Great Britain (SPGB), whose declaration of principles, stated on their foundation in 1904 and unchanged to this day, are those I completely concur with, I was an avid reader of Socialist Challenge, Workers’ Weekly, Fight Racism! Fight Imperialism! and sundry other ultra left agitprop publications. I might not have understood the minute details of their arguments, but the general point that we needed violent revolution yesterday was one I’d happily got on board with.

That said, sometime in late 1980 I joined the Felling ward branch of the Gateshead East Constituency Labour Party at an ordinary monthly meeting, held in The Beeswing at the bottom of the High Street. First pub I ever had a drink in, but that’s another story. What I didn’t do, despite relentless peer group pressure, was join Militant, whose inflexible rote-learned reformism turned half my extended family into unthinking automatons, effectively ending many of their lives as independent, sentient beings.

I remember the sense of grinding despair at the outcome of the 1983 election; on the back of the Malvinas War, Thatcher’s majority increased, and I fell into a state of gloom on the sofa. I’d said I wouldn’t go to bed until Labour had 200 seats. Eventually, they picked up 209, but overnight, the figure stuck at 199 and I became redder eyed and puce faced angry as the night wore on. Similarly in 1987, having moved back from London at the start of the campaign, I allowed the widening North South Divide to persuade me Labour would triumph. They didn’t and 1992 was worse, following Kinnock’s crass and cretinous performance at the Sheffield pre-election rally.

By this time, I’d actually had the experience of voting for someone other than Labour, and it had been a curiously liberating experience. During my student years in the early to mid-1980s, I remained registered at the parents’ place, which denied me the option of voting for hardline Republicans in hardline Loyalist areas of County Antrim, though I had experienced a revelatory epiphany on reading a copy of Socialist Standard for the first time. Subsequently, in every election, I ought to have spoiled my ballot paper by writing WORLD SOCIALISM on it, but I never got round to doing so. As it was, living in Leeds for my postgrad year, I was on the electoral roll for the Headingley Ward. There were two candidates to elect, and every person in our shared house, voted Communist and Green, bar Steve Connolly. We locked him out the house for most of the evening when he came back from firstly canvassing for Labour and then exercising his democratic right. Needless to say, he backed the winners, though that fight was closer than the 1989 European election in Tyne and Wear South. I was honoured, for the first and, so far, only time in my life, to vote for the SPGB. Tim Kilgallon garnered 919 votes, a little behind Labour’s Alan Donnelley with 126,682. It was a platform to build on, I suppose.

In 1997, the Blair Landslide reinforced to me that the simple truth was I hated the Tories much more than I liked Labour. I had a degree of hope that at least the country would now be governed by competent and honest people, rather than the greedy, rapacious, corrupt reimagining of the French Royal Family of the 1780s that Major’s government had become. How naïve that belief appears now. In short, we were all let down by Blair and his repulsive, ideological fawning over GWB and clamour for war at all costs. That said, no-one can ever take away the joy of seeing the likes of Portillo and Mellor humiliated on live TV in the early hours of May 2^nd, 1997.

It could be that my memory is playing tricks with me, as I didn’t vote in the 2001 election as I was living and working in Slovakia at the time. I’d imagined it to have been a lot closer than it was. Checking up on the results, I was surprised to see that the figures for seats taken by the main parties were almost unchanged from 1997; Labour 412 (formerly 418), Tories 166 (165) and Lib Dems 52 (46). Being honest, about the only thing I remember from that campaign is John Prescott knocking that bloke out.  What a superb punch by Two Shags it was.

Moving on to 2005, I was able to vote in Newcastle upon Tyne East for the first time. This constituency, under its various names, is where I’ve owned property and been on the electoral roll since 1998. The seat was held by Nick Brown from 1983 until last week, when Mary Glindon succeeded him. I didn’t vote for him in 2005; I voted for my former UCU colleague Martin Levy, who stood as the Communist candidate. He received 205 votes to Brown’s 18,768. As an aside, the father of a former student of mine, Bill Hopwood, stood for Socialist Alternative (he’d been a member of Militant and sided with Taaffe’s tendency at the open turn) and gained 582 votes. Probably enough to keep Denver fiddling with himself under the covers for weeks that.

Come 2010, things really began to unravel. I’m still disgusted by the venal, narcissistic conduct of the Lib Dems who, in a hysterical thirst for power, signed up to be the Tories’ sacrificial lambs, copping a fall for the totally discredited policy of austerity that started the process of comprehensively reducing most people’s lives to abject misery and fiscal penury, that continues to this day. Personally, I voted for Martin Levy once again. He got 177 votes this time. Bill Hopwood had emigrated to Canada.

Things got no better in 2015. Mollie Phillips was standing instead of Martin Levy; I was one of the 122 who backed her. TUSC (Trade Union Socialist Coalition), who I’m ashamed to say I stood for in the 2014 Council election in Dene, put up an absolute simpleton by the name of Paul Phillips. He got 170 votes, which was less than the 180 I managed in a single ward. Nick Brown was elected and the country, as a whole, went to hell in a hand cart. Red Ed made no significant inroads, the Lib Dems got their arses handed to them for 5 years of Vichy style collaboration with the Tories, who won at a canter, while Scotland became enslaved by the racist eugenicists at the heart of the Scotch Nazi Party, who promised a chicken in every pot and a stolen motor home on every driveway. While I’d first joined the Labour Party in 1981, I can’t claim unbroken membership.  However, on resolving to do something positive in the wake of the deep disappointment caused by this result, I rejoined and, low and behold, Corbynmania broke out AOTS.

Now the election of this one bloke was enough to make Taaffe’s tendency decide the Labour Party was no longer “irredeemably bourgeois” and for them to attempt another ideological volte face, but you can’t blame their little empty Schactmanite heads, can you? After all, we all loved him at first.  Didn’t we? I mean, just look at the size of the crowds at the rallies, or the adulation that poured down on his appearance at Glastonbury. While the Tories were intent on crashing the economy via the Brexit fiasco, Dave the Pig Porker got the fuck out of Dodge and handed the baton onto tedious Teresa, who couldn’t govern without Arlene’s DOBs backing her. Meanwhile, Jezza was riding a wave of popularity that far exceeded his ability; retrospect tells us, he should have assumed a ceremonial role, allowed John McDonnell to take over the leadership and we’d have been spared the evisceration of December 2019. You don’t believe me? Read This Land: The Struggle for the Left by Owen Jones.

The night before the election, I saw the incomparable Steve Albini for the last time, as part of Shellac. As an American, he may not have had much to do with UK politics, but from the stage of The Boiler Shop, he gave an impassioned speech urging us all to do our bit to keep the Tories out. Sadly, the game was up. I remember having a pint that night with Nick Kemp, now leader of Newcastle City Council, who confided that Labour were going to get killed. And we did but, despite the pain, the poverty and the unending corruption of what followed under Johnson, Truss and Sunak, it might almost have been a good election to lose.

Looking back on the last 14 years of Tory rule, or even just since 2019, the sheer number of crises, arse-ups and public relations disasters they were responsible for is almost beyond belief. The fall out from Brexit and COVID (PPE scandals and Partygate especially), the Rwanda scheme, Liz Truss and Sunak’s incredibly bad election campaign, were each reason enough for the party to be crushed underfoot by the electorate. And so, they were. I’ll come back to what I think we’ve learned from this election soon, but I’ll tell you about my take on things first.

Nick Brown, after almost 40 years unblemished service as MP for Newcastle East and Wallsend, in its various iterations, was inexplicably thrown out of the PLP because of a complaint raised against him. Whatever this was, we never found out, either as party members or electors. Instead, Nick stood down and Mary Glindon, formerly councillor for Battle Hill and MP for North Tyneside since 2010, became the PPP. I’ve met Mary as part of my UCU role and she was always a good, solid, down to earth representative who stood up for her constituents. Indeed, she introduced me and Ben to Dennis Skinner on the terrace of the House of Commons in October 2011. However, and this is why I’m such a shit member of the Labour Party, I didn’t vote for her.

After rejoining in 2015, I’d been a loyal Labour voter, even in the PCC elections, when I’d always wanted to write ACAB on the ballot paper. This changed with the Northeast Mayoral election in May. I wasn’t going to vote for Kim McGuinness, so I broke ranks and cast my vote for Jamie Driscoll. He didn’t win, but he put the wind up the Labour Party in this region. It showed, and this is very important to realise, there is a viable sector of the electorate who want a strong left of centre programme to get behind. For me personally, the policies I was looking for in any candidates were -:

1.      Abolition of the Monarchy.

2.      Renationalisation of all domestic power suppliers.

3.      Renationalisation of all train and bus franchises.

4.      Immediate recognition of an independent Palestinian state.

5.      Immediate commitment to withdrawal from the 6 Counties as a prelude to an independent 32 County Irish Republic.

6.      Commitment to rejoin the EU at the first available opportunity.

7.      An end to any restrictions on immigration.

8.      Abolition of all tuition fees and cancellation of all student debt.

9.      Immediate restoration of all benefit cuts and imposition of £50,000 minimum household income.

10.  Immediate prosecution of John Swinney for treason.

Now, I realise that these demands, while moderate and sensible, were not shared by many political parties, so I cast an eye over the leaflets landing on my mat for a sense of common ground. Unsurprisingly, it was the Communist Party who appealed to me the most with their 12-point plan based on reversing cuts, expanding public ownership, promoting inclusivity and internationalism. This is what the Labour Party should stand for. In the event, Emma-Jane Phillips got 206 votes and Mary Glindon 21,200. That doesn’t take away from the fact that what the Communist Party advocated was unquestionably morally right. Sometimes, that just doesn’t matter.

So, what about the rest of the 649 seats up for grabs. Well, this was a whole new routine for me, watching it with Shelley. We hit the gym after work, then grabbed a few nerve-settling pints in Enigma Tap, where I ran into a long-standing friend of mine. As voting is a private matter, I’ll not divulge their name. Suffice to say, this is a gentleman of long held left wing beliefs. Living in a safe Labour seat, though not the same one as me, he wanted to follow his conscience and vote for the most progressive platform on offer. Thus, he voted Green and I’m sure he’s not the only one.

Insulated by a few beers, we nipped home for a lengthy snooze to enable us to pull an all-nighter. I woke up at 9.53, saw the exit poll with Big Ben’s chimes and settled in to watching a whole series of Tory bastards squirming as the manner of their humiliation became clear. Oh, it was wonderful that Labour won, but how much better was it to see Rees-Mogg and especially Truss cast out like the trash they are. Neither of them had the tiniest of understandings why they’d been brought to book, but who cares? Of equal joy was the evisceration of the corrupt Scotch Nazi Party. No longer can they traduce the working classes with false promises of a chicken in every pot and a stolen motor home on every driveway. The dead-end of ultra-Nationalism, like Viktor Orban in a kilt, has been swept away and working-class unity on both sides of the border can help to regrow a Socialist consensus that the defenestrating Dundee drug dealers have long opposed.

I woke up on the sofa at 8.45, wondering quite where I was. Despite Shelley’s best efforts to chaperone me, I’d managed two bottles of Moldovan Pinot Grigio and was feeling a little tender. However, a soothing breakfast of coffee, toast and a recap of the results, enabled me to relax, then grab a few more hours kip, in bed this time.

Despite 412 elected Labour MPs, this landslide, based on 34% of the popular vote, isn’t quite what it seems. Indeed, it seems clear that this election has seen a substantial drift to the Green Party in safe, educated, urban Labour seats. Keir Starmer may have a whopping majority, but the shifting tectonic plates of political allegiances are considerably shallower than in the past. Multi-generational class, cultural and religious ties are not so secure as in the past. Allegiances can change. The enormous Labour majority could just as easily be wiped out, or massively eroded in 5 years’ time, if people feel let down. In the words of the Bolshevik virgin, what is to be done?

Demographics are crucial. In my seat as well as the adjoining Newcastle Central West and Newcastle North constituencies, the Greens defeated the Lib Dem candidates, showing that there is a clear mandate for radical, progressive thinking, as demonstrated in comparable seats across the country. Understanding why we have Green MPs in Brighton and Bristol doesn’t require genius level intelligence. However, both Newcastle East and Newcastle Central West, though not Newcastle North, also embrace sizeable Muslim Communities and pockets of urban deprivation. This has resulted in a further fragmentation of the Labour vote; in Newcastle Central West, independent pro-Palestinian candidates Yvonne Ridley (3,627 votes; 8.8% of the poll) and Habib Rahman (1,636; 4%), together with John Pearson (3,228; 7.8%) of the Green Party gained more support than the Fascist Reform candidate (7,815; 18.9%). Basically, 40% of votes cast are from those who have defected from the two main parties.

At a rough guess, the Fascist votes in Newcastle Central West probably came in a 50:50 split from Labour and Tory deserters, while the left-wing votes are all from Labour. In Newcastle East, it’s probably the same story, with 5,257 Green votes and 430 for the Workers’ Party, which adds up to 14% of the total number cast. Bearing in mind what happened in Blackburn, Dewsbury and Leicester, Starmer needs to court the Muslim vote. Indeed, the Hindu vote may also be up for discussion now Sunak is history.

The really challenging thing is to win the hearts and minds of those who abandoned Labour for UKIP, Brexit, Reform or whatever variety of sieg heiling snake oil Farage and his shower of scum are peddling. There has been, for too long now, an attitude among the urban, educated left that sections of the British working class are ideologically irredeemable and should therefore be held in contempt. I’m saying that is bullshit. Just look at the gains Labour has made in Scotland. Labour didn’t give up and now there are 40 seats back with the natural party of the working class. That can happen in England; perhaps only Lee Anderson’s seat is a realistic proposition of the 5 the Fascists have (and can you really take Nigel Farage seriously as an advocate of proportional representation?), but eroding their vote by pointing out it is the monstrous entity of global capitalism and the profit motive that has made the lives or ordinary people such a misery over the last couple of decades and not refugees or economic migrants. They are our brothers and sisters; we must fight alongside them to repel the lies of the extreme right wing. Let’s do it now, from the very start of this new Government.

I’m 60 next month. I never want to see another Tory government in my lifetime. Remember, there's 121 Tories left and every single one of them is a bastard.