Contingent Boys

I made it to SJP again, at last. I'm very glad I did.

I know I’ve only just written a blog about Newcastle United, but I really need to do another one after seeing them in the flesh for the first time since December 2023 (3-0 v Fulham), meaning that 2024 was the first year since 1972 when I didn’t set foot inside SJP. Because of some kindness and luck with the Bromley ballot, Ben and I ended up with a pair of East Stand Lower tickets, just over the halfway line towards the Gallowgate and I got to see a truly life-affirming game, which may not mean that much in the wider scheme of things for Newcastle or our fans, but I’m delighted I was there.

Of course these days, you can see every game on the telly if you want. Or at least you theoretically can, if you’re allowed, as I was booted out the house by Shelley when the Spurs away game was on, as she had her mates round for one of those semi-mythical girlie chats that I’m relieved I wasn’t privy to. Rather than complaining about me going to football, Shelley actually made me head to Newcastle Independent versus Newcastle East End on the 4G at Coach Lane on Saturday 4th January. It wasn’t my first choice of game. I actually went a bit further up the road to try and take in what ended up as being Chemfica Amateurs 1 Hexham 11, but the Longbenton Sports’ Ground was deserted, locked and barred, presumably as the game had been moved to Cochrane Park. Coach Lane was a good alternative, but I suspect the folks at East End are weary of seeing me at their place as they lost 3-2, again, to a late arriving Independent side who played with their usual swagger. East End rocked them back on their heels by taking an early lead, but the balance of the game shifted, and East End were undone, partly because of an extremely harsh decision to send Colin White off for a tackle on a longhaired youth, who yelped like a beaten dog when challenged.

Anyway, Coach Lane is a good place to be for Newcastle away games, as every time the Mags are away they win when I’m there, and so it proved once again, as an early concession at Spurs was counteracted by some strong play at the other end. Obviously the highlights must not have done the game justice as Postecoglu, with the desperation of a man clinging to his job like a drowning mariner scrabbling to control a piece of disintegrating driftwood, somehow claimed Spurs ought to have won. Yes, really. Well, it may not have been as comfortable as the wins at Old Trafford or Portman Road, but we did enough to edge a tough, tight game and really ought to have had a penalty for the bodycheck on Gordon.

So, we moved on from Saturday lunchtime in one part of North London to Tuesday evening in another, for the League Cup semi final first leg at Arsenal. Beforehand, I hadn’t given this one a great deal of thought, as it was a two-legged affair and I assumed there would be a degree of calculation required before acknowledging what was a satisfactory result, with the consensus seeming to be that a narrow loss wouldn’t be the worst outcome in the world. However, as you know, we won this one comfortably, on account of our ability to master the penny floaters they make you use in this competition, while Arteta confined himself to talking a load of hot air rather than teaching his players how to control that gas when it is inside a leather casing. However, and let’s get this straight, we are only at the halfway stage. A 2-0 lead is nice, but if we blow it at home in early February, the comedown will be appalling. That said, we were fucking brilliant weren’t we? In 9 days we’ve been to Old Trafford, Spurs and now Arsenal and thumped the three of them.  Alright, Arsenal were profligate in front of goal, but we weren’t, and we defended like titans to give Dubravka, who was again incredible, a deserved clean sheet. Isak. Gordon. Bruno. Tonali. Stellar talents. Hall. Livrimento. A full back pairing with breathtaking potential. Big Dan Burn. Geordie hero. And at the end, we returned to Bruceball, playing 5-5-0, but keeping the Gunners at arm’s length. Hats off to the whole lot of them, but remember it is only half time in the tie.

And so to the Bromley game. With the way we’ve been going in the League and the situation at the halfway stage of the League Cup semi-final, this was a game I was happy to lose. I said as much to my Bromley supporting mate, the literary giant and birthday boy Mike Head, while we were celebrating his 57th in the Mean Eyed Cat and Town Mouse on Friday night, with some superb ales. Kasteel Rouge Kriek anyone? So much for Dry January, but we had a fabulous time out with a fine contingent of fellas, who’d travelled from areas as disparate as Virginia and Scarborough to be at this one. 

The stupid train of thought that seeks to impose a hierarchy of support among football fans would have been destroyed by 10 minutes in our company. It doesn’t matter who you support, or at what level your team plays, nobody is intrinsically a better supporter than anyone else. Some may be a little more eccentric, including the two blokes who expressed an interest in taking in North Shields Athletic v Newcastle Independent on Saturday, but that was frozen off. It had been my intended game of choice, mainly because Shelley wanted some sun dried tomatoes from Morrisons’, but when the game was called off, I opted against either Benton v Morpeth or Newcastle East End v Haltwhistle and spent the afternoon on the sofa, rather like the 35,000 Mackems who were doing an emergency back shift at Nissan. Not because it was cold, but because I wanted to spend time with Shelley as I’d be out on Sunday. Still saw all the televised games mind.

Sadly, I didn’t get the chance to meet up with Mike and the rest of the Bromley Boys on Sunday, but I know they will have been proud of their team’s efforts. Nobody will ever be able to take away their euphoria at taking the lead with a fine, curling strike. Alright, so we won out in the end, but it was nip and tuck until we brought on Bruno and Gordon after the break. I knew we’d pick a much changed side; indeed, I called 9 of the starting 11, surprised only by seeing Dubravka and Joelinton, who was the only player along with Miley, to play well in the opening half. I did feel a bit out of the loop when it came to all the new songs, though I reckon I’ve got the Osula one off pat. It was reassuring to know I was back in the East Stand when some moaning old bastard behind us kept slating Almiron all game, even after he went off, but was generally referring to Trippier when he did so. The fact is, our players are so bloody good now that there’s no point in offering them any advice, as they know so much more about the game than we do.  Miley was superb and scored an absolute thunderbolt of an equaliser. So pleased to see him back. 

Let’s enjoy this one but move swiftly on to the upcoming pair of home games against Wolves and Bournemouth, before we visit Southampton and host Fulham in preparation for Birmingham away in the cup.