Before the 2011/2012 came to a close, the last time Newcastle United ended a Premier League season with an away defeat was the infamous 1-0 loss at Villa Park on May 24th 2009 that signalled the preventable fiasco of relegation had actually taken place. In many ways, it is a great shame Aston Vile didn’t befall the same fate after their 2-0 away capitulation to Norwich on May 13th 2012; in fact Joey Barton’s Etihad cameo (of which more later) probably resulted in Villa finishing in a lofty 16th, rather than a spot above the drop zone, which would have been on goal difference only, if Stoke hadn’t ironically raised the spectre of Nat Lofthouse from the grave to score against Bolton, courtesy of a forearm smash by Jonathon Walters.
Back to Newcastle United; I didn’t see the great failure at Villa 3 years ago as I was at a Newcastle Central Sunday Afternoon League Final at Percy Main then, which is where I was again for the climax of this season, meaning I missed our poor farewell on Merseyside. Perhaps this was just one game too many. Being realistic, there’s little to be gained from dissecting the loss to a reasonably handy Scouse Mackems side, which finished the season in impressive nick. Regardless of our result at Goodison, 5th place was nailed on; in the end victories for both Spurs and Arsenal (Martin Fulop; I ask you…) rendered everything irrelevant anyway. There is the sense of relief that the 93rd minute winner The Arse got against us back in March didn’t count for much (other than assuring them of third spot); if we’d held on for a point at the Emirates and not tossed away 2 points against Wolves, we’d still only have ended up 5th. In short, there was no simple formula to explain why we didn’t get in to the Champions’ League, other than the fact we’re not good enough. To try and wish for more than 2 results to have changed is getting in to the realms of fantasy. Let’s deal with reality instead.
Any Newcastle fan who’d predicted last August that we would have been in with a realistic shout of third place on the final day would have been derided as delusional, with good reason. Let us not forget; the pre-season friendly with Fiorentina and opening day stalemate with Arsenal were suggested by some infantile hotheads as the time and place for a “Toon Poznan” protest against Ashley, though how a series of random, unconnected individuals in disparate parts of the ground pogoing with their backs to the pitch at half time would have achieved regime change is beyond me.
In actual fact, the uneasy truce between a still simmering fan base, with a few notable Saul on the road to Damscus converts (such as Lord Hill from The Ministry of Trufth) and the still widely derided and deeply mistrusted ownership, has seen a season that has been remarkably enjoyable for the most part, though with the usual collection of sledgehammer blows on the way. I’m not saying it is certain that we’ll maintain this relatively exalted position in the future; certainly Chelsea and Liverpool have to be better than this season (as well as Villa, who sacked the hapless McLeish the day after the season ended). By qualifying for the Europa League, we have given ourselves the big ask of either 2 or 8 extra midweek games before Christmas, which will examine the depth of the squad.
What Newcastle does have is a bloody good first team, which still needs a pair of full backs, a centre half and another midfielder to augment the team enough to call it a squad, and that is before any of the top notch players are sold.While everything is speculation at the minute, I feel that Demba Ba and possibly Cheik Tiote will leave, but don’t see any of the other jewels (Krul, Coloccini, Ben Arfa or Cisse) being sold just yet. Undoubtedly, we will see the back of Smith, Lovenkrands and Guthrie on free transfers; the first of those is a blessed relief, the second goes with all our good wishes and the third is a shame as he’s a good squad midfielder. Rumoured to be surplus to requirements are Leon Best (nice lad, honest pro, but very limited), Nile Ranger (the diametric opposite of Leon Best, personality wise) and Danny Simpson (foolish and arrogant enough to believe he deserves more than £20k per week). I’d guess Steve Harper will hang around the place as a kind of sporting Father of the House, as he heads towards twenty years on the payroll. Quite where this leaves the sublime skills of Francisco Jimenez Tejada (and I don’t mean my mother’s late dog) is beyond me. I doubt even Xisco knows….
Obviously, in addition to the playing squad, we have the Manager of the Year and a superb scouting system; let’s hope they continue to perform wonders next year. But if we don’t come out the blocks like Ato Boldon, let’s show a bit of patience. This isn’t Party with Marty, which can be summarised as 2 less points and three places lower than the season before, but with a 2 point cushion over Wigan. Of course, Martin O’Neill hasn’t turned in to a bad manager overnight; he’s been shit ever since he left Celtic (just check Villa’s accounts if you don’t believe me). Remember, we are Newcastle, so we’ll stay United. The season is done and it was a good one for us; for me personally, I saw 12 games (the most in 4 seasons), from 7 different seats in all 4 stands, garnering 7 wins, 3 draws and 2 defeats. While I had a good campaign, fairly obviously, it was a brilliant one for Manchester City.
I don’t like Massive Club citeh and their legendary 3,007 fans, but having seen their team up close from a seat in Bar 1892 (more comfortable than my own sofa), I can appreciate just how good they are. While Nasri and Tevez were snide and effete, Yaya Toure and Vincent Kompany were absolutely immense; literal and figurative colossuses who magisterially bestrode the St. James’ Park pitch, utterly negating the influence of our previously irrepressible front three and redoubtable midfield pairing. From my lofty, privileged perch, I felt an acute sense of embarrassment as Graham Danby droned through The Blaydon Races; surely this anachronistic dirge needs to be replaced as club anthem? It may reflect our history, like a musical Beamish Museum, but it tells nothing of the multi-ethnic, multi-cultural nature of our team, our city and our support. Let’s move with the times. On the pitch, they deserved to beat us, but that didn’t stop me having a fine day out.
Several fine ales in The Bodega (in the company of seemingly all 3,007 Young Kennys, who were mute while the bar cheered on Man United v Swansea, out of badness more than any affection) and Newcastle Arms, as well as a sickly can of cider in the sticky floored Cosmic Ballroom, acted as a prelude to my shambling round the Ouseburn. Once I reached The Cumberland, I was finished; a festival of Morris Dancing with a Ceilidh band provided me with a little entertainment, but more was to be had from a gang of three quarters drunk blokes in their 30s, who kept up a constant rendition of The Rizzlekicks’ Get Down With The Trumpets, as the diddly dee gang fiddled and sawed away. One last pint and I was away; sometimes you know when enough is enough. Joey Barton, of course doesn’t know that.
I’d taken a radio with me to Percy Main, to keep myself and the rest of the punters updated on The Premiership and FA Vase (well done Dunston incidentally). The 2.30 kick off for Hazelrigg Victoria and Byker Quay Club meant I was alone in a deserted club house as citeh struck twice, in Fergie time ironically enough, to win the title. Seeing the celebrations on television, on the flint hearted would have denied them this triumph. However, one wonders just how much Barton’s meltdown influenced the course of the game; an elbow, a kick and a head-butt were each worth a red card. Add to that his attempt to attack Balotelli (typically I suppose) and the post-game Twitter explosion and we’ll be lucky to see him playing much before Christmas once the FA have finished with him, especially when you recall Cabaye got a three match ban because of a barely discernible tautening of the facial muscles.
I must just say that Barton is right about Alan Shearer; he recognises Shearer’s talent on the pitch, but fingers his extraordinary dullness as a pundit and atrocious managerial skills. Cavalier Joey is normally wrong and repulsive, but today he’s right, while roundhead Al is simply tedious. Yet it is with Alan Shearer and Kevin Keegan that lays the crux of the biggest conundrum about Mike Ashley for Newcastle United fans. The departures of Keegan, Hughton and to a much lesser extent Shearer from the SJP hot-seat have had fans up in arms and foaming at the mouth. Yet, by extraordinary luck or more probably, ruthless judgement, Newcastle United have emerged as a far better side than at any time in the last decade.
What happens now? Who knows; it’s all speculation anyway, but it almost certainly won’t be dull as Shearer’s shirts or Keegan’s commentary.
No comments:
Post a Comment