Shadowplay

When it comes to the content of my many blog posts and articles for the Percy Main programme, I must admit to a degree of deliberate devilment in my mischievous desire to adopt consciously controversial and often intellectually indefensible philosophical positions for the sake of provoking debate. As the former chairman of the US Federal Reserve Alan Greenspan once said; “if you think you know what I’m talking about, then you clearly didn’t understand me in the first place.”

My last Percy Main article of the season, “Touching From A Distance,”in the Rutherford programme was an account of how I’d avoided watching Newcastle United for the vast majority of the 2010/2011 season and affirmed that it was my intention to avoid ever seeing them live again. To be honest, that was absolute nonsense as I’d spent the week leading up to the publication of that article exploring every possible avenue for a West Brom ticket, short of going to the ground and buying one of course. If I can be truly serious for a minute, I do object to giving any of my money directly to the current ownership of the club for a list of reasons so exhaustive than going in to them would require a novel rather than article. When it comes to helping someone out by buying a ticket that would otherwise go to waste, I have no problem handing over the cash that has indirectly ended up in Ashley’s pocket, although to be fair I’m a tight bugger so getting a freebie is always my preferred option.

Courtesy of the generosity of Percy Main assistant manager Graeme Cole’s next door neighbour, I came up trumps in winning the raffle for one of the best seats in the house for the West Brom game; G94 in the top tier of the New Stand, as was, or East Stand as it is now known (though it’s amazing how much upset you can cause by simply referring to it as the Mike Ashley Stand). On an aisle, in the front row of the block, right on the halfway line; you would struggle to find a better view in the whole ground and it didn’t cost me a penny piece; for an hour on Sunday May 22nd, it was almost football heaven.

As I’m out of practice in attending league games, I got to town as early as I get to Purvis Park for a Percy Main game ; about 90 minutes before kick off. However, I wasn’t required to make the post match bait or take the team sheet in to the referee’s room, so I found myself slightly superfluous to requirements. Obviously I could have gone to the pub, but as I was here for a game of football and not a skinful, I ignored that option and instead took in the Bobby Robson Memorial Garden, which is almost diagonally opposite the Irish Centre on Gallowgate. Five carved granite blocks depicting Bobby Robson’s life and football career stand as a fitting memory to a true gentleman of the game, who of course died the day before my dad in Summer 2009 (July 31st Bobby; August 1st Eddy) and I don’t mind admitting I shed a couple of tears. The Memorial Garden was as popular with The Baggies fans, who uniformly demonstrated that stonewashed Wranglers are always in fashion down Sandwell way, as it was with Newcastle fans. Let’s hope it is respected by all.

I entered the ground at 3.30, procured an expensive and bland cup of instant Nescafe then found my seat. I don’t intend to say much about the game, suffice to say that it fitted the Newcastle United season pattern exactly, with one third being outstanding, one third being acceptable and a third stinking to high heaven. Until their first goal, I had not heard a single proper gripe all game; admittedly Shola’s uniquely individual approach to leading the line was greeted with almost affectionate world-weariness. For the most part, the spirit of Taylor, the running of Simpson and Ferguson and the slick passing of Barton and Guthrie garnered warm and appreciative comments.

Things changed as soon as Tchoyi sidestepped a lame attempt at an offside trap and dragged them back in to the game. Suddenly the level of unease increased exponentionally, exacerbated by the arrival of Alan Smith from the bench , presumably to make someone other than Shola the target for abuse. Indeed such was the widespread rancour cast in his direction that I thought Michael Owen or Michael Ashley was the player entering the field. Tchoyi’s second, stepping away from a lame and cowardly challenge by Coloccini made things even worse. However it seemed as if the victory was assured when injury time approached, only for the entire back four to switch off and allow Tchoyi to complete his hat trick.

That one act of scoring a goal dropped Newcastle United from 9th place to 12th, costing not just a place in the top half of the table and two points but approximately £3.5m in prize money, or the price of a half decent squad striker or left back. If Newcastle United were a normal club with normal directors and management, this would be seen as completely unacceptable and utterly unprofessional. Pardew would be brought to book for his idiotic substitutions (why take Guthrie and Ferguson off?) that allowed the Baggies to drive on against a fragmented midfield and lop-sided attack and Ashley would see the shortcomings of the squad at first hand. Of course, Newcastle United are not a normal club; seemingly only the fans could see the ludicrous state of affairs that had unfolded.

At full time I had no intention of staying for a lap of honour or whatever it was called, as we were eating at 7pm and I needed to make tracks. However the vast numbers of plastic seats that were springing up as disgruntled punters stormed out for pints or buses, showed that less than a quarter of the crowd had stayed behind. Is this, as has been suggested elsewhere, a sign of “short memories” bearing in mind the events of the last two seasons? I don’t think so; there were plenty of things to praise in this game, but plenty of things to criticize in the closing period. Those who remained are often the same people trumpeting the line that finishing 12th is better than 9th as if we’d ended up top half, Ashley would have rested on his laurels. Frankly those who think Ashley’s thoughts concerning the club have any bearing on the final league table or indeed a shred of quantifiable logic to them are living in cloud cuckooland.

Obviously finishing 12th has allowed sunderland to maintain their grip on the non-existent title of North East Top Dogs, which was first invented in 2000. Well done them, especially as they were apparently one player short of a Champions’ League spot in early January. Their 10th place finish has coincided with one of the most spurious of internet urban myths ever, that of the supposed creation of a banner by an unnamed supporters’ group or fanzine, to be unfurled before kick off, celebrating Newcastle claiming superiority over sunderland by means of a (presumed) higher placed finish. Obviously the inspiration for this errant untruth was the Old Trafford “Always In Our Shadow” banner, which could be directed at either the Mickeys or Massive club citeh equally. The only problem with the crudely photshopped image of the Newcastle banner that flew around internet messageboards in the immediate aftermath of Sunday 22nd’s results, is that it has been grafted on to a photo from the Hull City game, which took place on September 13th 2008, when the “Cockney Mafia Out” banner got its first airing. Take a look at the two photos; the crowd is identical!

Iinitially I struggled to find the motivation to write this piece, but once the season finally ended with Heaton Stannington’s deserved victory over Ashington Colliers in the Northern Alliance’s George Dobbins League Cup, I got on with it. Typically enough Newcastle United refuse to stand still, or even take a few days off from creating unwanted headlines, so my initial optimism on reflection at the quality of some of the play i’d seen, has been replaced by the usual despondent blanket of cynicism that settles over me whenever prolonged thoughts about Newcastle United cross my mind. While Shefki Kuqi and Sol Campbell’s departures will be celebrated mainly for the £40k a week it saves the club, there are still plenty of problems elsewhere with the playing staff. Firstly, we’ve the Jose Enrique situation; will he go or will he stay? If he goes, what next for Coloccini and Guttierez? In addition, Tim Krul sounds off in the Dutch media about refusing to be number 2 at Newcastle; rash words if true. Look at Ben Foster; a far better keeper but playing in the Championship now. If Tim wants to be first pick in the top flight, it may have to be Eredivise and not the Premier League. Better to keep quiet and learn to catch crosses, as the only area Newcastle United have anything resembling strength in depth is between the sticks. More worrying is the news, brought out by the eternally charming Willie McKay, that Joey Barton is leaving Newcastle next summer as the club have reneged on the promise of a new contract. I don’t like Barton as a person and I have to say that for 3 seasons, including a fairly ineffectual time in the Championship, he was an absolute joke of a player. Admittedly he has been, along with Nolan and Tiote, the reason why Newcastle did reasonably well after the Carroll departure. He deserves a new deal, albeit on less monety as we are living in different times to 2007 when he arrived, but if one isn’t available he should be asking for one not announcing he’ll be off next summer. I suspect this one will run and run, with the losers being Newcastle United fans, as usual.

Speaking of which, one final knee in the unmentionables by the club that they’ve no doubt tried to sneak under the radar in the non-playing silly season, is that the so-called Ultras from Level 7’s singing section, won’t be allowed to transfer en masse to the Leazes Level 4 section, as they’d though. Apparently this will be kept for matchday sales, no doubt meaning those in the Bar 1892 semi-posh seats won’t have to listen to Mad Darren ov Fawdon repeatedly announcing that all he cares about is NUFC while waving his trainers (Nike) above his head. Instead, this lot are going to decamp to The Strawberry corner of the Gallowgate (aka Sports Direct Stand) and turn that in to a singing section. At least I’ll know where to avoid if I go to any games next year.

Roll on August 13th eh? That’s when the Alliance starts again.....

The Wind that shakes the Barley

Touching From A Distance

(First published in Percy Main v Rutherford programme 21st May 2011)

Well here we are at the end of another season. While Percy Main may be ringing down the curtain on a modestly successful first campaign back in the Alliance Premier Division today, tomorrow sees the last big game in this area of 2010/2011; I’m obviously talking about Byker Key Club against The Turbinia in the Newcastle Central Sunday Afternoon League President’s Trophy at Purvis Park, kick off 2.30.

Many of you may have thought I’m talking about Newcastle United versus West Brom which kicks off at 4 and costs the thick end of £30 to attend. The strange thing is that only 2 years on from emerging from 20 wasted years as a season ticket holder and a year on from still catching a dozen games (most of them on freebies), I’ve only seen the Magpies in the flesh 4 times this season and not at all in 2011. The sad facts are that, having seen home losses to Blackburn (I only went because West Allotment v Benfield was called off that night), Arsenal in the League Cup (I took the bairn as a supposed treat) and Man City on Boxing Day (the ticket was a Christmas present), the 0-0 draw against Fulham, the day the Main’s trip to Amble United in the League Cup was rained off, is my season highlight as a Newcastle fan of 38 years standing, as it’s the only one we didn’t lose. Apart from those 4 games, I also watched the opening day battering at Old Trafford in the pub and caught up with the new-fangled concept of internet streaming to watch the frankly astonishing 4-3 win at Chelsea in the League Cup, to make it half a dozen times I actually watched the side I still nominally follow, in real time.

Ignoring tomorrow, Newcastle have played a grand total of 41 games, meaning I’ve missed seeing them on 35 occasions. As Percy Main’s fixtures clashed with the Mags 14 times, including seeing half an hour of the Wolves away game on dodgy TV in The Hastings after Delaval away, but not the glamorous League Cup tie away to Accrington Stanley (the only away game I could possibly have imagined attending), this left 21 Newcastle games and, almost unbelievably, all bar 5 of those were on television. This handful of games is easier to account for; as they crashed 5-1 at Bolton on November 20th, I was at Benfield v Stokesley, while the Spurs away game over Christmas coincided with my Over 40s team’s annual game on Longsands. On January 5^th I broke with tradition to listen to the 5-0 battering of West Ham on local radio. I did the same for the draw at the Mackems and in mid-February I played 5 a side when they won at Birmingham. The difficult task was avoiding the 16 televised fixtures.

Long before I jacked in going to SJP, I’d grown sick of televised football via satellite, so I cancelled my Sky Sports subscription back in about 2006 and I must admit I’ve not regretted it. I also don’t regret not watching Newcastle United in the pub as the variety of saloon bar cretins who know nowt about the game makes those who attend the game seem like Brian Glanville clones; hence I’ll do anything to avoid having to listen to the inanities of those who feel that the more Fosters they drink, the more valid their opinions become. When Villa were beaten 6-0, Laura and I were at the North Tyneside Horticulture Show at The Parks. Her Uncle Bill and Auntie Linda took us out for Sunday lunch when Stoke won 2-1 at SJP. The loss at Man City and the win at Arsenal took place while I was doing my mam’s garden. While the Mags came from behind to win at West Ham, I watching Doncaster beat Sheffield United on BBC2; good game it was too!

Surely I would have made efforts to see The Halloween massacre of the Mackems? Well, not really; Laura and I were in Tynemouth market during the game, but I knew the score and we got to the Oddies just in time to see Darren Bent making it 5-1; great timing or what? I was back also looking at second hand books and records when Chelsea escaped from Tyneside with a point and Christmas shopping in town when West Brom gave Chris Hughton his P45. When Roy Hodgson moved closer to his as Liverpool were blown away in Pardew’s first game, I was in Glasgow; Partick Thistle v Ross County and Teenage Fanclub at the ABC were far preferable. I was out for Sunday lunch when Newcastle won at Wigan on Jan 2^nd and visiting my mam during the Stevenage debacle and the Villa loss. Despite being offered a freebie for Man United, I opted for Whitley Bay 0 South Shields 0 and was at the Sunday afternoon finals at Purvis Park for the Liverpool and Chelsea games of late.

My intention is to go through all of 2011 without seeing a Newcastle game. The reason being is, this season when I watch they average 0.25 point per game and when I don’t, this climbs to 1.3 points. If I keep away forever, Newcastle might win something!!

2008/2009

(First published in "Toon Talk" issue 5, May 2011)

It’s taken a while for me to finally sit down and pen this article, which is a change from the normal state of affairs. Generally, as soon as I know our deadline, I crack on with the business of doing the season’s review, but not this one. However I don’t want you to think I’m some kind of mental wreck who is still scarred by the events of this train crash campaign; it’s just that I wanted to see how things panned out in 2010/2011 before I committed myself to paper.

Well, I’m writing this in the midst of another abject 1-0 loss at Villa Park on a sun-drenched afternoon, when Newcastle failed to trouble Brad Friedel at all. The difference being that this time, albeit with half a dozen games to go, Newcastle are sitting 7 points about the drop zone in a seemingly comfortable 9^th place, with 39 points and a plus goal difference. Those facts are no particular reason for open top bus parades or brass bands going down Northumberland Street, but the weaknesses of others should mean there’s another white-knuckle top-flight dogfight to look forward to in 2011/2012.

Looking back from only 2 seasons distant, the events of 2008/2009 seem even more of a farce from beginning to end and as preventable as a Shakespearean tragedy than they did while they were taking place. You know, whenever I go and see “Macbeth” and the Thane of Cawdor and his missus are about to engage in a brutal killing spree that will totally destabilise the Scottish realm, the temptation is always there to stand up, tell the characters to stop what they are doing and consider the eventual results of their actions. With the benefit of both hindsight and a time machine, the urge to do this to the players, owners and management of Newcastle at any time in 2008/2009 is a compelling one. None of this shit needed to happen.

It all seemed to start off so adequately. Keegan was in charge, and while no one deluded themselves that the fella had anything other than the instinct for a good player and boundless enthusiasm to keep us going forwards, the end of the previous season had seen us make progress on the pitch. Alright so there was no chance of his three transfer targets of Schweinsteiger, Lampard or Thierry Henry joining us, but never mind we got Coloccini, Gutierrez and Guthrie instead. They helped us grab an opening weekend point at Old Trafford and then beat Bolton at home, courtesy of Kevin Nolan. He wasn’t playing for us of course, but he missed a penalty for The Trotters, which was probably the best thing he did for us all that season.

On the Wednesday afterwards, we went to Coventry and played a blinding League Cup tie; twice ahead, we were pegged back in injury time at the end of each half, before Owen grabbed a winner in extra time. Typical Keegan cavalier stuff; this was what everyone wanted to see – entertainment! It was also James Milner’s last game, as he was sold to Villa the day after. While Keegan pretended the deal was his choice, his body language said otherwise and we slipped to a humiliating 3-0 crushing at the Emirates on the Saturday, when Bassong made his debut.

By the Tuesday, transfer deadline day had seen us bring in the football artiste Francisco Jimenez Tejada (aka Xisco, a bloke who’d struggle to get on the bench for my Over 40s team on a Saturday morning) and Nacho Gonzalez, who none of us could pick out from an ID parade, even if he lined up with the 7 Dwarfs. These two charlatans were signed not by the manager, but by a cabal of Wise, Llambias and whoever the hell Jeff Vettere was. As a result, a fatally undermined Keegan walked. Now a court has spoken as regards the whys and wherefores of those events and I don’t think it is profitable to examine old ground, but if he’d stayed, we’d not have gone down and he should feel some guilt at the events that followed. Instead, Chris Hughton was given the gig as caretaker.

After the international break, we lost at home to Hull, with sex criminal Marlon King getting both their goals and Guthrie breaking Craig Fagan’s leg, then lost away to West Ham, at home to Spurs in the League Cup and at home to Blackburn, before the Cavalry in the shape of Sergeant Tourettes Kinnear arrived. Rather in the way our parents generation knew where they were when Kennedy was shot, I know where I was when Simon Bird’s nemesis was somehow given the job of keeping us up; I was at my aunt’s post funeral wake at The Pack Horse in Burnopfield. The news of Joe’s arrival didn’t lighten the occasion.

In retrospect, the craziest decision of this insane year was giving Kinnear a job, but things didn’t immediately get worse. We fought back from 2-0 down to get a point at Goodison, and then matched Man City in a 2-2 at SJP. Admittedly we did lose on Weirdside for the first time since 1980 on Kinnear’s watch, but back-to-back home wins over West Brom and Villa saw us up to the dizzy heights of 14^th. A 2-1 loss at Fulham saw the dreaded Cacapa reappear to hand them the points, while suicidal late defending gave Wigan a share of the spoils after we’d come back to lead in injury time as we went on a run of draws, with 0-0s at Chelsea and Smogland to follow, before the highlights of the season; a cracking 3-0 demolition of Pompey at Fratton Park and a glorious last second winner by Duff at home to Spurs saw us 12^th at Christmas. If only the season had ended then.

Boxing Day saw us lose at Wigan, with Ryan Taylor scoring a free kick, as usual and earning a move to us, with N’Zogbia sulking the other way. Liverpool battered us 5-1 at home, which saw Shay Given decide he couldn’t take any more nonsense on Tyneside, as he put in the performance of his life and still conceded 5. Losing Given to the Manc Mackems saw my love for the club die more than at any other time in the past 38 years. Hull put us out the cup 1-0 at home in a replay, before Andy Carroll got his first ever goal for us, rescuing a point at home to West Ham. Blackburn trounced us 3-0, Citeh did us 2-1 and a Shola penalty after a Steven Taylor, Oscar nominated dive grabbed a point against the Mackems.

At the start of February, we went to the Hawthorns in desperate need of points. Kinnear was taken ill on the morning of the game and never managed us again. Hughton was back in charge and Lovenkrands, signed on a free from Germany, inspired us to a 3-2 win in our only double of the season. We were sitting in 13^th but this was a false position of supposed security. A 0-0 at home to Everton, where Nolan was sent off for clattering Anichebe was followed by home losses to Man United and Arsenal, an away one to Bolton and a dire point at Hull, as we’d dropped to 18^th by the end of March.

On April Fool’s Day, Ashley made a last desperate bid for salvation, by appointing Shearer as boss until the end of the season. Great player he may have been, but as a manager Shearer was a disaster; combining the man management of tough-guy Souness with the tactics of Allardyce, he was worse than Kinnear in terms of results. Admittedly the players, especially Owen, Viduka and Martins, simply did not want to know, but the incessant changes in formation and personnel counteracted all the supposed benefits of making the players wear suits and switching their mobiles off.

We lost at home to Chelsea, drew at Stoke courtesy of a steepling Carroll header, lost at Spurs, drew with Portsmouth, as Owen missed a double hat trick of chances and got thumped 3-0 at Liverpool, where Barton was sent off. Shearer accused him of taking the piss out of the city and the club; well, two years on Barton is the player of the season and Shearer is back on the MOTD sofa making inane comments with Lawro. Go figure…

The last 3 games began with a Monday night visit of the Smogs. Despite a Beye own goal in the opening seconds, we crucified them with Taylor, Martins and Lovenkrands relegating them and opening the trapdoor for us. In retrospect, one single point would have saved Newcastle and the Fulham home game is the one where it ought to have been gained. Despite Kamara putting them ahead, I still see Viduka powering home a header at the Gallowgate, only for Howard Webb to blow for a non-existent foul. Then in injury time, Nicky Butt, unmarked 10 yards out, shoots straight at Schwarzer and we lose, as a thunderstorm of Biblical proportions appeared from nowhere. The loss at Villa was a certainty from that point on.

However, as 2009/2010 proved and as I’ll show in the next issue, relegation was nothing to be scared of in the end. That said, I don’t want another helping any time soon.

On The Road

(First published in Percy Main v Killingworth programme 11/05/11)

Well, that’s all for this season folks! Not my rambling or even the programme as there’s still Rutherford to come, but away games; Monday’s trip to Stocksfield was our last road trip of 2010/2011. I can’t really comment on the match as firstly I’m writing this before the game takes place and secondly I’m not going to be able to get there anyway. However I did get to 17 of the 22 other away games we played this campaign and so here is my mini travelogue of 2010/2011.

Back in July we began with a 2-0 friendly win over East End, played at the Langdale Centre. Jason was in goal, but as I was sunning myself in Bilbao, I can’t comment on his performance. Norman and I made the next friendly, away to Pelton Buffs and a good performance on a gloriously sunny night saw us beat a strong team 3-1. The competitive stuff started in mid-August with a 1-1 draw at Killingworth, when I managed to pour milk in to my Bovril; not nice, but better than the rancid coffee I had instead. The Saturday after saw the legendary backs to the wall 1-0 win away to Carlisle City, which is just about the proudest I’ve been to follow Percy Main. As a non-driver I rely on lifts a lot and Geordie Mooney is often my saviour; he took me to Delaval the next week for my first visit in a 2-2 draw and what a lovely ground it is too.

On to September and we had a cracking win over Ponteland in the Challenge Cup, that I managed to get to after playing at Billingham in the morning. Good job my over 40s side has some posh lads playing for it who live Darras Hall way and could give me a lift. At Rutherford at the end of September, I made it to see Ashley Smyth’s debut winner courtesy of Wilka, who saw me struggling up Lobley Hill with my bag of dirty kit and took pity on me. Thanks Shaun!

Geordie Mooney took me to Ashington Colliers, where we won 2-1 while listening to the crowd chanting as their first team stuffed Bishop Auckland 4-0. I missed my first away trip of the season to Alnwick on the weekend the clocks went back, taking in Heaton Stann’s 3-1 win over Ponteland instead. It was frustrating, but so was the weather after that as snow, ice, rain and whatever stopped us playing until early January. On the 8^th, we won 4-2 at Killingworth in the Challenge Cup and instead of Bovril I drank a McDonald’s coffee, courtesy of Geoff. At Seaton Delaval a fortnight later we lost on penalties in the Cup semi-final. I’m glad it went to extra time as a delayed bus meant I had to take a taxi, costing £13, in order to see this game. I didn’t get to Amble the week after, being forced to watch Willington Quay Saints 3 Red House Farm 5 in the Alliance Division 2, as the weather put paid to all other local fixtures. Great game it was too!

The trip to Harraby was a long one and we were well beaten, but there was great hospitality and truly terrible Scotch pies, which is why we never saw Hendrix Ekwen again I suppose. I didn’t make it to Blyth Town, watching Team Northumbria trounce Hebburn 4-0 instead, but I was at Shankhouse for the amazing 6-4 win in the kind of fog that Basil Rathbone inhabits. The game was so good we didn’t even watch the young leotarded ladies in the Zumba class in the adjacent community centre, which provided a joyful Salsa soundtrack to our win. I missed the victory at Wark to watch Newcastle University defeat Heddon in the Combination Cup semi, then nipped down for the second half of Benfield 4 Jarrow Roofing 0.

In April, the games came thick and fast. We lost 3-1 at Heaton Stann in the cup and I paid £5 for two, admittedly very nice, coffees for Geoff and me from the nearby Dean & Daniela Italian bistro. Nine days later we lost 2-1 in the League and I arrived at half time, missing all our best play. At Ponteland, I saw evidence of the kind of underage drinking problem they have in those parts, with empty bottles of pink Cava strewn around, rather than white cider so popular in these parts. Geordie took me to Cramlington and I wish he’d not bothered, though they sold lovely coffee in the clubhouse. At Walker the post-match buffet was like a wedding reception and made us forget about the match as we munched on white chocolate millionaire shortbread, while at Murton we turned up before they had unlocked the ground and I had to ask the ref if I could use his loo as there weren’t any others!

So, there you go; 2010/2011, the highs and lows of travelling to watch Percy Main. Roll on 2011/2012.

Another Niall In The Coffin

(First published in Percy Main v Alnwick Town programme 07/05/2011)

When I was young, April 23^rd was notable for being both Shakespeare’s birthday and death day (1564 and 1616 respectively), as well as St. George’s Day. This year, it was also marketed as Easter Eve (a phrase I’d never heard before), the second session of a four day public holiday weekend bender, by both pubs and supermarkets, concerned with turning Easter in to another orgy of overindulgence in glasses and on plates. I didn’t realise just how much binge drinking had touched the national consciousness until I met my mate Mackem Steve for a pint that early evening.

I came back from Percy Main after our thumpingly good 2-2 with Ashington Colliers, while he returned from sunderland, to meet for a few beers and watch Chelsea v West Ham. Well, that was the plan, but the bar was heaving with the wrecked fallout of all day sessioners; blokes bladdered on Carling and women slaughtered on ice cold Rose wine, which appears to have supplanted alcopops as the drink of choice for the undiscerning female palate, while tired and bored children screamed and whinged. The place was in uproar, which was good in a way as Steve couldn’t tell me about the Mackems trouncing Wigan 4-1.

Given the choice I’d rather have met him the week after, when Fulham banjoed them 3-0, but I’m not telepathic enough to pick out their unexpected home defeats and arrange my social life round them. To be fair to Steve, he isn’t one of the bitter Mackems, having been watching them long enough to remark when Bob Stokoe was appointed in autumn 1972; “we should never get a Mag to manage us.” Perhaps if he’d said this in 1987 when Stokoe took over from McMenemy to pilot their drop in to the third division, rather than 7 months before they won the FA Cup, he could have been right.

Interestingly, the caution Steve espoused as an 8 year old is accepted as truth by most Mackem supporters these days. Lee Clark, Don Hutchison and now Steve Bruce are seen as being the evil offspring of McMenemy and Stokoe, who are regarded a collection of vindictive, vengeful Mags only interested in destroying sunderland. As the annual clamour for “lifelong black cat fan” Martin O’Neill to take over at SoS grows ever louder, it is interesting to remember just how fickle these lot are, not just in their crowds, but in their affections. Back in 2009, Darren Bent was seen as being the saviour of the club and Steve Bruce (or Brewse as they would have it at the time) was no longer a Geordie from Walker, but a Northumbrian from Corbridge as that’s where he was born. Now the fact he was safely ensconced in the parental home on the Fossway by 5 days old is shouted loud whenever Corbridge is mentioned. Also, Ellis Short is regularly exhorted to do the decent thing and sack Bruce and, almost astonishingly, Niall Quinn as well, as the genial lush is seen by many red and whites to be problem drinking in the last chance saloon of their affections.

Quinn, the £1m per annum man of the people is an interesting case. When I saw the Mackems lose 1-0 to Norwich in the second ever game at SoS in August 2007, Quinn was hated by the fans. The chanting against him was savage, relentless, personal and xenophobic; in a sense when he said he “despised” sunderland fans earlier this year, he was only echoing their previous and current opinions of him. Strangely they temporarily came round to him, like they did with Bob Stokoe, and then venerated Quinn when, in the company of a collection of discredited Irish property speculators, he bought the club from the hated Bob Murray, who in the Mackem universe is now rebranded as a proper local fan.

It’s all swings and roundabouts with that lot; if the Mackems get more points than Newcastle over these last 3 games, Bruce and Quinn will be heroes again. If they don’t, the summer of discontent on Wearside will be a fraught one. At least Newcastle fans are constant and reliable; 40,000 season tickets sold by the end of April and everyone hates Ashley and Pardew. Loyalty and consistency; two words the Mackems just don’t get.

Dyer Era

(First published in Percy Main v Seaton Delaval programme 04/05/11)

My mate Phil’s a right contrary so and so; the two football teams he hates the most are Stranraer, as he once spent 8 hours there waiting for a ferry to Larne in January 1984, and Norwich City, mainly because of all the patronising guff about everyone liking them; you know On The Ball City and Delia Smith haranguing the crowd after a crate of cooking sherry. Now I’ve no opinion about Stranraer; certainly I wasn’t prepared, as Phil was, to have a weekend up in Aberdeen supporting The Dons when they took on Stranraer in the Scottish Cup a few years back, but I have to say I like Norwich. As I write this they lie second in the Championship and may well be promoted, unlike their local rivals Ipswich, whom I developed a fairly strong antipathy towards a while ago.

When I was growing up Bobby Robson’s Ipswich were a side I enjoyed watching; they, like QPR, played open, attacking football and were a model for other unfashionable clubs in the 70s and early 80s. After Sir Bobby left, they drifted in to the doldrums, apart from a spell under George Burley. They seemed ready to implode when Royston Maurice Keane walked in to Portman Road the other year; how I enjoyed his volcanic rage on the touchline as Newcastle demolished then 4-0 during the Magpies’ Championship gap year. After 18 months of aggressive press conferences, fallings out with the playing staff and pitiful home defeats, Cork’s favourite dog walker was on his bike and the archetypal Scouse charlatan in a track suit, ace chancer Paul Jewell was appointed. He’s doing a great job, as their 5-1 home massacre by Norwich proved only too well. Of course, his side may have done better if their star loan signing from West Ham hadn’t limped out of the warm up injured.

In last week’s Shankhouse programme I touched on Twitter and Michael Owen’s inability to grasp either the genre or the effect his words were having. Likewise, team mate Darron Gibson quit the social networking site after 2 hours because of some negative comments from United fans. Just imagine if either Newcastle or West Ham fans were able to put their thoughts across to Jewell’s injured match winner in waiting; one Kieron Dyer.

Dyer cost West Ham £6m from Newcastle in summer 2007 and is widely regarded as the club’s worst ever bit of business. In that time, while failing to score a goal, he has made 15 starts and an equal number of substitute appearances, but only played the full 90 on 3 occasions. He has now been released from a contract that has cost the Hammers an eye watering £23m . Ever wonder why the modern game is in such a state? Fear not though, Paul Jewell is ready to step in and offer Dyer a 2 year deal back at his home town club Ipswich, where Dyer started off, as “ he still has a lot to give and is just the sort of experienced head we need to act as a good influence on the younger lads.” I’m not making this up you know.

When compared to West Ham’s experiences, Newcastle fans saw the Golden Era of Kieron Dyer’s career, though it didn’t feel like that very often. Arriving from Portman Road for £6m in summer 1999, Dyer was seen by many fans as the natural replacement for Peter Beardsley, though he was no doubt rocked back on his heels by the sacking of Ruud Gullit after the infamous monsoon loss to the Mackems when Dyer scored his first goal for Newcastle. He made nearly 40 appearances that year in all competitions, scoring blinding goals at home to Spurs and away to Everton, during what in many ways this was his best season. The year after (00/01) he scored 6 goals, but was injured from February onwards, not appearing again until December 2002.

During this period, the rot set in. While injured he negotiated the infamous “60 clicks” contract, giving him £60k per week basic. Generally this was paid to him for doing nothing as his incessant injuries kept him out the team. Returning to occasionally score a brilliant goal before hobbling off, it was clear he could no longer pass, shoot, head or tackle; all he could do was run. Added to this the infamous treatment of Sir Bobby with the incident involving the captain’s armband after Dyer had refused to play right wing at Boro, followed by the on field brawl with Lee Bowyer, for which Dyer got off scot free, meant he was a busted flush by 2005. Amazingly he hung around another 2 seasons, scoring a career best 7 goals in 06/07, but he left as universally reviled as Michael Owen among the Magpie faithful. Of course, with all the money he has earned, Dyer won’t care less his career has been a resounding flop and that he is held in utter contempt on Tyneside. Disgusting isn’t it?

Final Score

(First published in Percy Main v Wark programme 30/04/11)

Arsene Wenger; don’t you just love him? With his cheeky smile, wry sense of humour, selective myopia and pathological paranoia whenever decisions go against him, you can understand exactly why Kenny Dalglish exchanged such pleasant banter with Arsene after Liverpool’s 102^nd minute penalty equaliser at the Emirates the other week. Wenger, having seen his side meekly surrender the Carling Cup to Birmingham and tumble out of the FA Cup and Champions’ League with barely a whimper has now seen his Arsenal side show a streak of cowardice a mile wide in failing to be credible contenders for the Premier League title. Yes Arsene, it’s tough at the top.

However, it’s also tough at the bottom. The Northern Alliance Division 2 may not be the bottom rung of the football ladder, but it is an exacting place to run a team. This season, the Alliance was proud to have 17 teams in each of the 3 divisions, strength of numbers that demonstrates the beautiful game at our level in this region to be in decent health, or so we supposed. Since the campaign kicked off last August, we have seen 4 teams go by the wayside. First to disappear were Chopwell Officials Club from Division 1. We played them twice last season, shading it 2-1 at home because of a keeper error and drawing a highly competitive encounter 2-2 at their place last April. Despite this positive showing, they called it a day less than six months later. Like so many teams at this level, the management did everything from marking the pitch to washing the kit and after a while, even the most indefatigable of willing horses will rear up and throw its increasingly burdensome cart. Their geographical isolation did not help either I’d guess.

However, it is the second division where club resignations have been the most common. Firstly Amble, facing an enormous backlog of matches, a shrinking pool of players and questions over the availability of their pitch at Red Row, threw in the towel in the midst of the November and December freeze, citing the clear knowledge that they’d struggle to fulfil their fixtures as a reason to resign. They were followed by Newcastle BT, who played at the superbly appointed Willie John Sams Centre in Dudley, but simply didn’t have enough bodies to keep going, before Cullercoats Custom Planet exited stage left. Their former manager Tony Fawcett decided to go to University as a mature student (fabulous English teacher he had mind…) and stepped aside, citing work pressures; sadly there was nobody willing or able to sort out the administration and practical requirements of the team, so after a protracted series of postponements, they too withdrew. The word is that Whitley Bay Town will also disappear at the end of the season, meaning only 13 will make it through to 2011/2011, at best. Who knows which other teams will find the slog of Saturday Monday Wednesday games for 5 weeks, as well as Sunday Tuesday and Thursday for their pub sides, on pitches that are rock hard, rutted and bare of grass, too much to cope with?

Yes, is this a new phenomenon? Checking back over the last decade, it seems not to be the case. While Ryton and the Coach Lane triumvirate of Benfield, Team Northumbria and West Allotment have moved up to the Northern League, with Alnwick seemingly on their way to join them, as well as Easington who have achieved promotion via a sideways move to the Wearside League, there are many other sides who have disappeared. Up in the borders, Spittal Rovers and Highfields became Berwick United, while Winlaton Hallgarth, Bedlington Terriers A, Walker Fosse, Haydon Bridge, Newbiggin CW, Cowgate Sports, Stobhill, Otterburn, The Wincomblee, The Birds Nest, Eppleton CW, Alnmouth, Felling Willows, Prudhoe RTH, Swarland, Daisy Hill, Wallsend, Penrith United, Lowick, Sport Benfield, Jesmond, Felling Fox, Blaydon and Westerhope, have all left the league. I’ve counted 24 teams there; accepting I’ve probably missed a few, as well as ignoring the mergers apart from the Berwick United one, it’s the case that with the exceptions of Walker Fosse and Wallsend, none of these teams were forced out of the Alliance. It is simply the day to day hard slog of running a team that gets people down and caused them to leave of their own volition.

However, there are apparently six or seven sides who’ve expressed an interest in joining the Alliance for 2011/2012, which just goes to show clubs may go, but the game and the Northern Alliance go on. Thankfully.

140 Character Assassination

(First published in Percy Main v Shankhouse programme 27/04/2011)

Brevity is the soul of wit, states Polonius in Act II Scene ii of Shakespeare’s Hamlet and this phrase has been taken to heart by Geoff since he took over editorial duties on the programme, limiting me to 1 page of this nonsense each edition. When Andy was putting the thing together, he let me ramble on like Jerry Garcia during the last encore of a Grateful Dead show at the Frisco Winterland in 1971, but I’ve learned the value of keeping my missives short.

Possibly that’s why I’m enjoying using Twitter so much these days; search for me as PercyMainFC at www.twitter.com At first the only followers I had were Geoff, Norman, Laura and Cola, so everyone was either watching or playing in the match when I updated the scores, though now we’ve got plenty of followers from the on-line cyber blogging community who seem so at ease with social networking sites. Almost all Northern League clubs use Twitter to update during the game, but I think it’s only we and Chemfica from the Alliance who have accounts. It’s the future, I’m telling you. Mind Laura suggests I should restrict myself to putting only Percy Main related stuff on there, rather than listing what gigs I’m going to or giving marks out of ten for the various Real Ales I’ve been quality testing. Then again I wouldn’t be the first person involved in football to come to grief because of troublesome tweets, would I? Only this week, Kieran Bowell of Berwick Rangers was sacked for making disparaging remarks about the letter bombs Neil Lennon received.

I think I first became aware of Twitter when Darren Bent engineered his move from Spurs to the Mackems in 2009 via the 140 character microblogging format, via his DB_TheTruth account. He’s gone strangely silent since his disappearance off to Villa mind you, though there are still probably a few thousand unread messages from cyber toughies with FTM73 as part of their log-in name waiting for when Bent has his next shufty on line.

Obviously Carlton Cole has just been fined for his tasteless remarks about the Ghana fans at Wembley in the recent friendly international, while Jack Wilshere was called to the headmaster’s office at the FA for whining about a penalty Newcastle got in the 4-4 with Arsenal in February. Mind, like the teenage tearaway offspring of the problem family at the bottom of the street, how can we expect Wilshere to know better or show any respect the way his manager has brought him up?

However what has really amused me of late has been Michael Owen’s amazement at the negative reception he got at SJP last week, when a storm of boos greeted his every touch. The horse racing obsessive with all the personality of John Major on lithium used Twitter to make the following ill-judged comments: Got a poor reception off the home fans which was disappointing... Knew I would get booed as that's what a lot of fans do but if they knew the facts then they may have a different opinion... For the record, I tried my best in every game for Newcastle. Under KK I played well and I’ll never forget the 2 I scored against Sunderland…When I meet Newcastle or Liverpool fans they all respect what I've done for their clubs. In stadiums it changes, 1 boo and the rest follow… By the way, I’m not looking for sympathy. As long as my family don't boo me when I walk through the door I couldn't care less.

Now I wasn’t at the game, having turned down a freebie to see Whitley Bay 0 South Shields 0 instead, but I would have booed Owen relentlessly, remorselessly, especially as he had the audacity to SELL not give his helicopter to the North East Ambulance Service, after the millions he earned for precisely nothing in 4 years on Tyneside. While I find the idea of arrogant, deluded multi-millionaire sportsmen having on-line implosions very amusing, I have to say that Michael, you can rest easy tonight; I don’t despise you any more now you’ve left Newcastle United than when you played for them. As one Tweet said; you were a shameful disgrace in black & white and symbolise why I hate the modern game. Well said that man!

Uimh Tír d'Fhir Sean

(First published in Percy Main v Ashington Colliers programme 23/04/2011)

I’d like to apologise from the outset as this edition’s piece has very little to do with football, but I know what a highly cultured crowd we get reading the Percy Main programme, so I’m sure you’ll indulge me this once. As it’s St. George’s Day, I thought I’d take us across the sea to Ireland, for a change.

On Friday April 15^th, 623 days after his death, I helped my mother attempt the sad task of clearing out my Dad’s wardrobe. Most of the stuff went to charity shops, but, as well as a video of “The Dubliners Guide to Dublin” (She gave it to me presumably on account of the beard making me look like Ronnie Drew), Mam insisted I kept Eddy’s old Arran sweater, which he’d worn half a century ago when he sang in folk clubs and which made him look the double of Tom Clancy (the singer not the writer). As the old fella was 3 inches shorter than me and far less generous round the gut, it’ll never fit properly, but I wore it all the same as I watched Shamrock Rovers steal an undeserved point from the Fair City classico against Bohemians with a last second scramble on www.rte.ie

As I settled down to read that night, Eddy’s Arran sweater acted as my pillow, while I got acquainted with “Bullfighting,” Roddy Doyle’s fabulous new collection of short stories. It’s the first book I’ve ever read that’s made me genuinely regret growing old. While YouTube keeps me musically insulated in a cocoon of 1970s folk and folk rock (though I did escape to go and see the impossibly brilliant Trembling Bells on Monday; now there’s a band who are surely the reincarnation of Sandy Denny era Fairport Convention…), my Planxty inflated nostalgia balloon (Sé an truaigh nach mise, nach mise/ Sé an truaigh nach mise bean Pháidín /Sé an truaigh nach mise, nach mise/ S an bhean atá aige a bheith caillte**) was popped by Doyle’s unremitting exploration of the realities of the current recession from an Irish perspective.

Doyle takes us from Howth to Bray and inland to Lucan to gaze at the effects of negative equity, unemployment, ageing, illness and, ultimately, mortality on Irish men, middle class urban Dubs in particular, who are all in their late 40s to mid-50s. It was almost enough to make me forget the Setanta Cup semi-finals, but not quite; Shamrock Rovers and Dundalk will contest the final on May 14^th. After reading Bullfighting and internalising its mixture of farce, tragedy and, ultimately, loving hope, I find it a gas that a meaningless non-competition like this will be played in Belfast on a day when the entire island of Ireland will be watching the FA Cup Final from Wembley instead. Can I just say I want Stoke to win, as I’ve no time for Massive Club Citeh? Thanks.

Doyle is a Chelsea fan, so no doubt his Sunday will be made special the day after the Cup Final as the Pensioners clatter half a dozen past Pardew’s lads at Stamford Bridge. You know; if he can continue to write books as affecting as Bullfighting I don’t think I’ll care too much.

Ian Cusack

* Irish for No Country For Old Men

** It's a pity that I am not, that I am not/ It's a pity that I am not Páidín's wife/ It's a pity that I am not, that I am not/ And the woman he has is dead

Missing Inaction

(Originally posted on http://northernleagueday.wordpress.com/)

Back when Unibond strugglers Whitley Bay regarded Blyth Spartans as their rivals and not Wearside League neophytes North Shields, who were playing at Wallsend Rising Sun in those days, while Benfield were still the Corner House Sunday morning side and West Allotment used to slug it out at the top of the Alliance with the likes of Newcastle Polytechnic (Or Team Northumbria as they are now), I started watching the Northern League.

Wise sages of the amateur grassroots game on Tyneside always maintained that the Northern Alliance was the proper Geordie competition, while the Northern League, in the words of one veteran of a thousand penalty box brawls was for “Mackems, hillbillies and crackerjacks from ex pit villages.” The demographics of the Northern League have changed beyond all recognition in the past two decades, with the decimation of sides from the East Durham Coastline, the waning influence of Teesside and the almost total domination of the Newcastle and North Tyneside area clubs, in the shape of Benfield and Whitley Bay, held off only by the megabucks of Spennymoor and valiant efforts from Consett and Shildon.

The body politic of the Northern League has an intensely urban heart and only the furthest extremities of the competition have failed to be touched by Northern League Day. However, fear not; having been to every Northern League ground, I’m able to fill in a few details on the clubs who’ve not filed a guide to their ground.

Billingham Town play at Bedford Terrace and were the first club that Gary Pallister play for. As has been listed on the site already, an unseemly row that was not of their making, picked by a seemingly heartless Hartlepool United almost saw the club that has been the personal bailiwick of octogenarian Chairman Tommy Donnelly since formation as Billingham Social, go out of business. Thankfully, they’ve hung around and after seasons of perennial penury they continue to remain well above the drop zone in Division 1. Their Bedford Terrace ground has a smart stand and quality standing, as well as an excellent canteen and can be accessed most easily by alighting at Billingham Station and heading right out of the station down Cowpen Lane, before taking a winding right to the ground down Bedford Terrace itself. They host Jarrow Roofing, so would expect to win.

Second Division Gilford Park are another side to have had a tortuous time of it of late. For a variety of reasons that make the Jarndyce v Jarndyce case seem like a bairn’s spelling book, they were forced to play their first dozen league games away from their home ground. Subsequently they were forced to use Copeland Athletics Stadium in Whitehaven as a base until complex details with their lease were unravelled to make for an uneasy truce. Now they are back at the highly impressive Gilford Park ground. Home to the Carlisle rugby league side, it is accessed by turning right out of Carlisle station and walking down London Road for approximately a mile and half, before turning right down Petterill Bank Road, where the ground itself is right next door to the home of serious drinking in those parts, the Railway Club. I’ve been twice for Northern Alliance games and had a superb time on both occasions, but it seems as if their magnificent programme, compiled by Somerset gent in exile Harley Freemantle, is no longer as Harley has moved to Dundee. A shame. You should get a look at Gillford Park as they may not be around much longer. They host Darlington Railway Athletic and would be classed as strong favourites.

Northallerton Town are the furthest south of all Northern League clubs and, arguably, deserve to be in the Northern Counties East, but they’re not. They’ve been in the Northern League since the second division was founded in 1982/1983, bobbing between the two divisions on a regular basis. Their well-appointed Ainderby Road ground, including a superb programme shop, is easiest to get to by train. Come out of the station on your left, taking a left after half a mile at Mill Lane and another left to get on to Ainderby road itself. Or follow your nose, as they’re next door to a sewage farm. Dirty Yorkshire what? They’re playing the underachieving Chester Le Street side that were relegated last year and this one may go the way of the visitors.

Finally, Thornaby, who used to be known as Stockton, but have nothing to do with the original Stockton club, whose assets belong to Norton and Stockton Ancients. Got that? Their ramshackle, dilapidated Teesdale Park ground looked like a bombsite the one time I visited; I’ve no idea if it has improved, but their Celtic daft secretary Tommy is a fabulous bloke to chat on to about the game. If you’re going, take the train to Thornaby, come out of the station on your right on Mandale Road and cross over when it merges with Acklam Road, follow that for about half a mile and the ground is in a park, at the bottom of the hill, on your left. They host unpredictable Hebburn Town, so the result is a hard one to predict. Certainly I’d see it as the most intriguing of the 4 games mentioned here.

So, there you are; if you’re doing Whickham v Washington and then Ryton v Billingham Synthonia, or whether you’re doing any non-league game, enjoy it. I hope to see you in the pub tomorrow night, but more importantly, I hope to see you in a non-league ground many times in the future.

Why I will not be attending Northern League Day

( First published on http://northernleagueday.wordpress.com/2011/04/06/why-i-wont-be-at-northern-league-day/ )

I like the Hudson Brothers; they watch amateur football and they drink Real Ale. They are my kind of fellas and I take my hat off to them in respect of what they’ve done for Ryton FC and many other shoestring operations in the local area with their Northern League Day project on April 9^th. Whilst I will be in the company of the Hudson Brothers (who appear to be named after the kind of posse that would have gone searching for Billy The Kid) on the evening of Northern League Day, drinking fine hand pulled beers in a number of establishments in the Ouseburn Valley, I will not be present at either of the football matches they’ve identified as places to call in on during that day. Despite the appearance of some arcane phenomenon entitled the Socrates Bloggers, neither Whickham v Washington at 11.30, nor Ryton v Billingham Synthonia at 3pm, nor even the chance to quality test brews at The Boathouse in Wylam (named Northumberland’s best pub by CAMRA in 2010) will keep me from my preferred destination; Purvis Park, home of Percy Main Amateurs FC, where a Pin Point Recruitment Northern Alliance Premier Division game versus Carlisle City kicks off at 2.30pm.

Several times in my life, I’ve found myself as close to nirvana as a man could hope to be. Suffice to say, if I could watch Teenage Fanclub playing a greatest hits set, supported by The Wedding Present and Trembling Bells, while imbibing the Bass they sell in The Tynemouth Lodge or a 2008 Yellowtail Pinot Grigio, with Laura’s Thai Green Curry to follow up, I’d die a happy man. If those events could take place at Purvis Park after a comprehensive home win by Percy Main, I’d go to my grave in a state of ecstatic peace.

To say I love football is underplaying my hand a little. At approaching 47, I play in goal 3 times a week, still watch a minimum of 2 live games (of course I don’t have Sky or ESPN) and spend huge swathes of my waking time writing, talking and thinking about football. Only classic indie and folk music, ultra left wing politics and my loved ones get anywhere near as much head space as football does. Yet, for many years, I hated football. Or rather, I hated what Newcastle United’s version of being a football fan did to me, as I had allowed the all encompassing, grasping, and indifferent social behemoth from St James Park to render me anonymous. Thank you so much to Alan Shearer, Michael Owen and Mike Ashley for relegating the club in 2009 and freeing me from its clutches. Last Saturday the nailed wolves 4-1; the only way it impacted on my consciousness was irritation at the number of barcodes getting off the 306 and 308 on the Coast Road as I cycled back from a 3-1 reverse at Heaton Stannington. Emotional progress; yes?

Obviously, I’ve been in love with the amateur game in the local area for nigh on two decades, with Benfield my chosen Northern League side. Yet to me, the Northern League is not the chance for a bit of rough away from the Premiership pretty boys, it is a whiff of almost unimaginable glamour; £6 in, floodlights, proper seats and replica shirts. We don’t get any of those things in the Alliance. Instead there are 48 clubs in three divisions, from Alnwick to Murton and Cullercoats to Hexham, with every player, committee member and fan grafting like hell to keep teams going in the face of mounting costs, minimal receipts (other than ourselves, most sides don’t even bother to charge entry) and rapacious clubs from higher in the pyramid poaching promising players.

On a typical Saturday, I’ll arrive at Purvis Park around 1pm after playing in Over 40s league in the morning. Most of the rest of the committee have been there since noon. During the course of a match day I’ll collect gate money, serve in the canteen, take down the posts at full time, sweep the dressing rooms, help prepare the post match buffet and various other tasks, before heading home around 6pm to write up the match report. For this privilege, it costs me about £10 a week in various weekly draws and lottery schemes the club runs, so why do I do it? Because I love Percy Main Amateurs. Here is a football club that appreciates what I do for it and gives me back a million times more than I put in.

I hate Niall Quinn, but I understand what he means when he says the Mackems got under his skin, despite no obvious connection with the place. I joined Percy Main as an outsider in 2009, having watched them for a couple of years, because I was honoured to be asked. I will never leave. Why not come and visit us to see what life is like below the glitz and paparazzi of Ryton against Synners? Even better, why don’t you follow the trail blazed by the Hudson Brothers and help organise a Northern Alliance Day? I’ll assist….

http://www.percymainafc.co.uk/

(This also appeared in a slightly different form under the tile "Home Comforts" in the Percy Main v Carlisle City programme on April 9th 2011)

Elsewhere in today’s programme, there is an article taken from the “Gannin Away” blog written by Andy Hudson about his trip to see Percy Main beat Ponteland 1-0 in the NFA Senior Benevolent Bowl. This was written a couple of months after his brother Michael wrote a similar piece for his blog “The Accidental Groundhopper” about our Challenge Cup win over Carlisle back in September. I like the Hudson Brothers; they watch amateur football and they drink Real Ale. They are my kind of fellas and they’ve organised the inaugural Northern League Day that is taking place elsewhere in the region today. Whilst I will be in the company of the Hudson Brothers (who appear to be named after the kind of posse that would have gone searching for Billy The Kid) this evening, drinking fine hand pulled beers in a number of establishments in the Ouseburn Valley, I will not be present at either of the football matches they’ve identified as places to call in on during that day; neither Whickham v Washington at 11.30, nor Ryton v Billingham Synthonia at 3pm, nor even the chance to quality test brews at The Boathouse in Wylam (named Northumberland’s best pub by CAMRA in 2010) will keep me from Purvis Park and our clash with Carlisle City.

Several times in my life, I’ve found myself as close to nirvana as a man could hope to be. Suffice to say, if I could watch Teenage Fanclub playing a greatest hits set, supported by The Wedding Present and Trembling Bells, while imbibing the Bass they sell in The Tynemouth Lodge or a 2008 Yellowtail Pinot Grigio, with Laura’s Thai Green Curry to follow up, I’d die a happy man. If those events could take place at Purvis Park after a comprehensive home win by Percy Main, I’d go to my grave in a state of ecstatic peace.

Obviously, I’ve been in love with the amateur game in the local area for nigh on two decades, yet to me, the Northern League is not the chance for a bit of rough away from the Premiership pretty boys, it is a whiff of almost unimaginable glamour; £6 in, floodlights, proper seats, annual trips to Wembley and replica shirts. We don’t get any of those things in the Alliance. Instead there are 48 clubs in three divisions, from Alnwick to Murton and Cullercoats to Hexham, with every player, committee member and fan grafting like hell to keep teams going in the face of mounting costs, minimal receipts and rapacious clubs from higher in the pyramid poaching promising players.

On a typical Saturday, I’ll arrive at Purvis Park around 1pm after playing in Over 40s league in the morning. Most of the rest of the committee have been there since noon. During the course of a match day I’ll collect gate money, serve in the canteen, take down the posts at full time, sweep the dressing rooms, help prepare the post match buffet and various other tasks, before heading home around 6pm to write up the match report. Why do I do it? Because I love Percy Main Amateurs. Here is a football club that appreciates what I do for it and gives me back a million times more than I put in.

I hate Niall Quinn, but I understand what he means when he says the Mackems got under his skin, despite no obvious connection with the place. I joined Percy Main as an outsider in 2009, having watched them for a couple of years, because I was honoured to be asked. I will never leave. I would love some of those who are dipping their toe in to non-league football during Northern League Day to come and visit us to see what life is like below the glitz and paparazzi of Ryton against Synners. Even better would be if one of them followed the trail blazed by the Hudson Brothers and helped organise a Northern Alliance Day? I’d assist in any way that I could.

Howyis?

(First published in Percy Main v Walker Central programme April 6th 2011)

Well, the business end of the season is well and truly with us as the visit of Walker Central is the first of an eye watering 10 league games in April. While the Northern League continues to beat its breast and howl over the thought of playing games beyond the end of April, at least the Alliance allows us to play until the last Saturday in May. Of course, that’s not the end of the season for me. I fly out to Dublin on Monday 30th May with the intention of taking in the Tallaght Corinthians versus Ex-Big Club at the Halting Site, as well as Hunky Dorys v Seagulls, or Shamrock Rovers v Bohemians and Drogheda v Bray Wanderers to the uninitiated, before flying home in time for the Percy Main end of season do in the Cricket Club on the Saturday night.

The Irish season kicked off in early March and, as expected, the Premier Division is seeing the appalling Shamrock Rovers walking away with things, while averaging an excellent 6,000 for home games. After 5 games, they’re 4 points clear of a surprisingly resilient Bohemians, who despite near bankruptcy and the repeated rumours of the imminent departure of manager Pat Fenlon, are hanging on in there. At the bottom Drogheda United seem more likely than even the equally impecunious Galway United to become detached from the rest. New manager Mick Cooke arrived from Monaghan to replace Bobby Browne, who walked out in pre-season, stating it was “My Prerogative” to do so. Anyway….

In D1, things are as fascinating as ever, really. As ever, no team seems head and shoulders above the rest. Shelboune and Cork City have the best crowds and JP McManus is bankrolling Limerick (a city that regards football as the 5th choice sport after horses, GAA, rugby and knife crime), but Monaghan seem the most interesting with quintessential Dub gobshite Roddy Collins, famous for being Ireland’s best dressed man in his trademark Louis Copeland tin of fruit and nearly bankrupting Carlisle when he led them down to the Conference, in the hot seat. At least it keeps him off de telly. Longford (aka De Town) have signed former Newcastle gambling addict Keith Gillespie, for how long we shall see. Crowds as ever remain a problem, as a contributor to the excellent www.foot.ie pointed out when discussing a game which, admittedly did coincide with Ireland trouncing England at rugby;

“I counted 47 at Salthill v Athlone tonight, which is astonishing because there were more cars in the car park than people at the game. One guy kept moving so that figure could easily be 46 or 48. There were probably more people in the Clubhouse talking about the rugby match than there were watching the game on the rain sodden pitch. About 20 die hards from Athlone who cheered their late equaliser like 80,000 in Camp Nou seeing Messi stick in the winner past Real Madrid.”

Away from the league, two cup competitions are making progress. The cross border Setanta Shield, which attracted 50 to see UCD 0 Lisburn Distillery 0 in the opening game, is at the semi-final stage. Sligo Rovers are paired with Shamrock Rovers as the two top teams slug it out, while Dundalk meet Cliftonville, the North’s only representative, in a tie that could be for the unofficial Dissident Republican Cup!! The semis are on 4 & 18th April, with the final on 14th May in Belfast. Or not, depending on who’s in it.

Meanwhile the EA Sports League Cup is at the last 16 stage, in 4 supposedly regional groups decided on which side of the Liffey a side is from, meaning Shelbourne and Monaghan are in Group A and UCD and Wexford in Group C. Typically this will be the second round, after 2 preliminary ties (including De Town 2 De Udder Town 1) and 9 round 1 games. As it is the League Cup and Ireland only has 21 league teams, 6 non-league sides were invited to guest to make it seem as much of a proposition by Fibonacci as a sporting contest. Fanad United, FC Carlow, Cobh Ramblers, Dynamo Tralee and the Kerry League Select all bowed out gracefully, while Donegal’s Cockhill Celtic humiliated a Galway United side who’d won away to Bohemians a few days earlier, to earn a home game against holders Sligo. Games played on Easter Monday. I’ll continue to keep you updated on things, but remember every Friday in April sees a live game at www.rte.ie with Derry v Dundalk on this Friday. I’ll be watching.

Mind Forged Manacles

(Originally published in Percy Main v Ashington Colliers programme on 19th March 2011)

Why does cold reality never match up to our fond imaginings? Take the Premier League results of Saturday March 5^th. Arsenal were odds on to beat a Mackem side who’d lost their last 4, Man United had to be fancied to bounce back away to the hated Dirties, resolute Villa would no doubt get at least a point at the Reebok and Newcastle were shoo-ins to complete a double over Everton. If those results had happened, The Magpies would be currently sat in 6^th place, with the chance of a Europa League spot and we’d all be referring to the Mackems as North East Crisis Club sunderland. Instead, with none of them happening, Newcastle fans of my acquaintance have now decided that, since their team managed to lose their first game in 5 and second in 11, leaving them in 9^th spot, 6 points above the drop zone with 9 games to go, that they might be going down. Have some belief for goodness sake!

The reason for this witless gloom is said to be the threadbare nature of the squad and, in particular, the absence of Joey Barton. This may be a controversial thing to say, but you have to feel sorry for Barton. Having been largely a passenger for the first 3 years of his time on Tyneside, he’s been brilliant this season (alongside Nolan and Tiote, whose 6 year contract is viewed with suspicion by those I’ve talked with) and was ready to sign a new contract on the day Carroll was sold. That deal meant all bets were off and the Gallowgate rumour mill has Barton not injured, but on strike. As the press who, in the shape of The Grauniad’s Lousie Taylor, fingered Barton for a non-existent Nazi salute celebration versus Villa and an imagined elbow against Liverpool, regularly hang him out to dry without a scintilla of hard evidence, have not picked up on this, I think we can assume it is fiction. However, just imagine the reaction of the tabloid hacks and FA top brass if Barton had shot a work experience kid with an air rifle, like the loathsome Ashley Cole has been identified as doing, or enacted either the Wigan elbow like Rooney or Carragher’s challenge on Nani. We’d be talking lifetime bans.

I’ve spent a bit of time with semi organised Newcastle fans of late. Firstly, the day bitter old Kevin Krackpot launched another misguided, populist tirade at the club he walked out on twice and then sued for as much as he could get, which Derek Llambias correctly pointed out could have caused Newcastle United irreparable fiscal damage, a “meeting of the minds” involving several supporters’ groups, took place in the Irish Club, to try and chew the fat about where to go next as regards fan representation and organisation on an official and unofficial level. Former NUST committee members Bill Corcaran, Steve Hastie and Neil Mitchell called the meeting, as the club had hinted at being amenable to representatives of supporters being invited to discuss burning issues among the support with NUFC executives. Newcastle United have made it clear that they will not talk to NUST, so this symposium was called to explore this possibility.

In attendance were representatives from Toon Talk fanzine, as well as many pressure groups, websites, message boards and bloggers. The guiding principle from the off was that any future organisation wouldn’t be an organisation, but an umbrella group, comprising a loose amalgamation of any interested parties, where all opinions and viewpoints were welcomed and not a new, fully constituted fan group. This seemed important to me, as that route involved a lot of work and the chance to run in to the kind of negativity that NUST’s impotence has engendered among fans. What occurred to me was that Newcastle’s support is as fractured and contradictory as the messages coming out of SJP; at the same time as the L7 singing section is closed, a brilliant 10 year season ticket deal is offered. Barton doesn’t sign a contract and Enrique looks like being punted as well, while Tiote pens a massively long deal. No wonder those at our meeting displayed a massive range of opinions, which was entirely in keeping with the breadth of support Newcastle United has.

Meanwhile, despite the fact NUST has died (17 at their AGM showed that), new Chair Norman Watson embarked on a bolting of the stable door charm offensive, sending two emails in successive days in early March to invite me to a presentation on fan ownership by a representative from Supporters Direct at Northumbria University. I didn’t go, mainly because I was working, but I’ve heard nothing substantial emerged. Basically it reinforced my belief that the person at our meeting on the Tuesday who advocated Trotskyist entrism to take over NUST for the next election had it wrong; NUST is irredeemable. The only way forward is the umbrella talking shop reporting to Messrs Corcoaran, Hastie and Mitchell, with them taking the consensus of involved fans to a meeting with the club.

Two cheers for democracy eh?

Northern League Day: April 9th 2011

On April 9th, Andy & Michael Hudson have organised Northern League Day, which is a commendable idea that you can read about here http://northernleagueday.wordpress.com/

My contribution to it is this piece about West Allotment Celtic who host Benfield in the Coach Lane Classico that day......

Ground Guide: Whitley Park (aka Blue Flames)

Northern League Day Fixture:

West Allotment Celtic v Newcastle Benfield

One of the enduring frustrations of following non-league football is the vagary of the fixture list. Same as The Premiership, the summer sees a comprehensive list of games published. However, at this level, the clubs are required to follow several masters who are in a strictly defined pecking order. First of all, the FA Cup, secondly the FA Vase, thirdly the County FA, fourthly the League cup and finally the League programme. Consequently, the best laid plans set out in July heat can be ruined before the leaves have left the trees. Even worse than the decisions of the Blue Blazers, are the effects of the climate on games.

This game, which is the only true derby that is taking place on Northern League Day, should have been played on Wednesday November 10^th. However, the notoriously porous Blue Flames turf, was declared unplayable after a couple of hours moderate drizzle, which necessitated me attending the horrific car crash game that was Newcastle United 1 Blackburn Rovers 2. As a Benfield fan, this is another reason to dislike West Allotment, even though I don’t really.

In fact, even as a Benfield fan, it is almost certain I won’t be at a Northern League game on Northern League Day as my Saturday responsibilities extend to following my first love, Percy Main Amateurs of the Northern Alliance Premier Division. Of course, the Alliance top brass keep their cards close to their chest, so as a result, we probably won’t find out whom we’re playing until a fortnight beforehand. However, I’ve been to Blue Flames often enough to know the ground intimately.

Looking at the games listed on April 9^th, I would say that every other Division One fixture is being played at grounds with more charm and more atmosphere, though not necessarily better facilities than Blue Flames. Whitley Park, to give it its proper name (Blue Flames is a nickname that dates back to when it was the British Gas sports complex, in the same way that Newcastle United’s adjoining training facility Darsley Park used to be the Civil Service Sport Ground), is owned by the Northumberland FA and while WAC are the principal tenants, it is used for all NFA representative games and cup finals, bar the Senior Cup which still takes place at SJP. Newcastle United have often used Blue Flames for reserve games and a particularly dire 0-0 with Everton on a Monday night in February 2004 destroyed the previously immaculate turf, as the club insisted the game went ahead so Craig Bellamy could get some match practice, though a game a week or so later when WAC lost 1-0 at home to Cray Wanderers in the last 8 of the FA Vase, watched by almost 1,500 punters, was equally culpable. As a result Whitley Park is often one of the first call-offs when the sky empties itself.

West Allotment Celtic, formed in 1928, initially played at Holystone, then moved to the Farm Ground in 1938, before arriving at Backworth Welfare in 1968, which was to be home until they became tenants of the Northumberland FA at Whitley Park in 2001. Having spent their formative years in the Tyneside Amateur League, Allotment’s glory period started in 1984 when they joined the Northern Alliance, where they won 8 titles before joining the Northern League in 2004, claiming the Second Division Championship in their debut season. They’ve stayed in the top flight ever since, but 11 straight league losses from November to the end of February saw the club tumble in to the bottom 3. Having seen them lose witlessly 2-0 at home to Tow Law on February 19^th and unluckily 2-1 at Benfield a few days later, they look doomed.

The easiest way to get to Blue Flames, which is on the A191 Whitley Road in Benton (post code NE12 9SF) by public transport, is by Metro. Don’t bother try to get a bus; there isn’t one. Get off at Benton. If you’ve travelled from the coast you’re on the correct side, but if you’ve come from town, walk underneath the tracks, and head up Station Road to the traffic lights about 100 yards ahead. At the lights cross the main A191 and turn left; Blue Flames is almost directly in front of you. Alternatively, for thirsty fans, get off at the previous / next stop Four Lane Ends. Come left out the Metro and take the first left on to the A191, which is Benton Front Street at that point. The first pub is the Benton Ale House, a charming, quiet spot with always a choice of 4 good quality Real Ales on offer. After that is the Black Bull, a TJ Bernard one room identikit noisy youngsters bar selling Magners and Carling, then thirdly is the excellent Ship, which always has a good selection of cask beers as well. There isn’t any fast food outlet, but all the pubs do food and there is a curry house and pizza place if you feel the need for a sit down job. I don’t mean a poo either.

Entrance at Blue Flames is £4 (£2 concessions), programmes (which used to be a superb effort by club Press Officer Stephen Allott) are £1 and there’s a golden goal raffle for 50p. There is a pricey bar selling keg beers (the Guinness isn’t bad) and a snack bar doing hot drinks and pies, which closes just after half time.

As far as the two clubs are concerned, this is a local rivalry, but not an ancient one as Benfield were only formed in 1989. West Allotment are a club with around 70 hard core fans, who are in their twilight years in the main. I do worry what will happen when the current committee get too decrepit to carry on. Relegation may not be kind for the club, though striker Nathan Roper, newly arrived from D2 Birtley where he bagged 20 goals, is a good signing and may have something to say about this sad state of affairs.

Benfield don’t have appreciably more fans, but they are younger, more enthusiastic, generally on the committee or at least involved. To a man they are proper East End Geordie lads. When Benfield won the League and Cup double in 2009, I went to the end of season do; it was at The Turbinia on the Fossway, in Walker, or Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaalkaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa as people from Walker call it. They don’t stand on ceremony, but Paul Baker’s side are one of the best around. Players to look out for include keeper Andrew Grainger, a former public schoolboy who has been an England beach football international, centre half pairing the teak tough Kev Leighton and the cultured ex West Ham apprentice Phil Lumsden, the Walkergate Socrates Paul Anthony in midfield, chunky winger Adam Scope and superb natural finisher Michael Chilton, who started his career with WAC.

If I had to make a prediction, I’d go for West allotment Celtic 1 Newcastle Benfield 3. However, most importantly, I hope it’s a quality game with a good crowd, who show their faces at a non league game again.

A Brave & Valiant Few

(Originally published in Percy Main v Stocksfield programme 5th March 2011)

The 2010 Irish domestic football season ended in a triumphant vindication of the League of the Ireland when League Cup winners Sligo Rovers defeated Champions Shamrock Rovers 3-0 in a penalty shootout to win the FAI Cup in front of a crowd of 36,000 at the AVIVA Stadium, with Bit o’ Red keeper Ciaran Kelly saving all the spot kicks the Tallaght Corinthians fired at him. However, within weeks of the curtain coming down back in mid November, stories of clubs in serious financial trouble began to be heard.

Perhaps the most parlous tale involved Ireland’s oldest and arguably most highly respected team, Bohemians. As has been noted elsewhere, the Irish economy has been in a wee bit of bother since the property bubble burst in 2008. Big Club were caught up in this catastrophic crash when, against all their expectations and financial planning projections, they failed to sell their charming, atmospheric but decidedly decrepit Dalymount Park ground in Phibsborough on da nort soide to fund a move away to a new build stadium out by the airport. Having lost out in the race for the title to their hated cross city rivals Shamrock Rovers on the last day of last season, fiscal fissures immediately cracked their economic edifice wide apart, when their continued presence at the ground that has been their home since 1901 was confirmed. As a result, players didn’t get paid and several threatened to sue The Gypsies, who were issued with a winding up order.

After frantic behind the scenes fund raising and politicking, disaster was averted, no doubt by providing the kind of Paddy the Plasterer dig outs only Fianna Fail politicians are used to getting, and consequently the club managed to continue, despite only having 4 registered players, with all debts cleared by February 22^nd, enabling them to amass a new squad for the coming season, though not soon enough to allow them to play any pre season friendlies. It was touch and go for a while, but at least they survived, in the same way as a post Nick Leeson Galway United (he was their Chief Executive, I kid you not) and Limerick stayed afloat; by the skin of their teeth after successful appeals to the League of Ireland saw them granted the full trading licence needed to operate in the Airtricity League in 2011.

Sadly, one club have gone out of existence; namely Sporting Fingal. Formed as recently as 2007 to provide “football on the rates” for the new developments in the Swords area to the north of Dublin, Fingal were admitted to the league in 2008, following the demise of Kilkenny City. Playing their home games at the Morton Athletics stadium in front of about 200 spectators, the club strived for both a top down and bottom up approach, throwing money at the first team while trying to kickstart youth sections from U7 upwards. It all seemed to be going well, with promotion and the FAI Cup secured in 2009 and a respectable 4^th place in the Premier Division, as well as a decent pair of 2-3 reverses to Maritimo of Portugal in the Europa League qualifiers to show for their 2010 endeavours. All appeared to be heading in the right direction when a seemingly mutually beneficial decision to groundshare with the skint Bohs (I loved the irony of the oldest and newest clubs playing on the same turf), when all of a sudden on 10^th February a press release announced the club would be ceasing trading with immediate effect, following the desertion of presumed financial backers.

This announcement came 3 weeks before the start of the season but, hey, no problem, the FAI, who have gone from dedicating 8 down to 3 full time staff to oversee the Airtricity League, will sort it all out. The first decision made was to reprieve 2010’s bottom placed Premier Division club Drogheda from relegation, causing their manager Bobby Browne to offer his resignation with immediate effect, explaining that the reason for his departure was “My Prerogative.” It may have something to do with the club’s entire weekly budget being slightly over £1,200. Mind, in context the prize fund for the Airtricity League has declined from £2m to £300k for the season.

Anyway, the reprieve of the men from Hunky Dory Park brought the top flight back up to its full complement of 10 teams, though Galway United’s participation was only confirmed after their licence appeal was granted. If they’d been knocked down to D1 or worse, the 1990 sunderland precedent would have been enacted. As you’ll no doubt remember when Swindon were denied a place in the top flight after financial irregularities came to light, their place wasn’t given to 18^th place top division team Sheffield Wednesday or to 3^rd place D2 side Newcastle, but to play off losers sunderland who’d finished 6^th in the second tier. Same here; runners-up Waterford United would have been overlooked in favour of play-off losers Monaghan United. However, the Miracle of Terryland Park means the West’s still awake. Yet, the most, pronounced effect of Fingal’s demise is to be felt lower down, as Drogheda’s reprieve means the First Division will operate with 11 teams in 2011, which seems an utterly mystifying decision, considering Cobh Ramblers, who were a Premier Division side as recently as 2008, were deemed financially sound enough to be granted an A Championship Licence, but have not been invited to make up the numbers in the First Division for 2011, despite only losing by the odd goal in 5 in a D1 relegation play off with Salthill last November.

Incidentally, the A Championship is a competition for LoI reserve teams and 6 “strong” non-league sides, comprising Cobh plus Castlebar Celtic, Fanad United, FC Carlow, Tralee Dynamos and Tullamore Town, split in to two regional groups. Obviously the demise of Sporting Fingal Reserves means this competition is running one team short now. Perhaps the problems with the First Division can be addressed in Leinster House as Wexford Youths owner and Juventus season ticket holder Mick Wallace TD. The former property tycoon with debts estimated to be around the thirty five million mark, who looks like Peter Stringfellow force fed on a diet of rashers and Black Porter, has somehow got himself elected to the Dail as an Independent, on a yet to be explained political platform. Personally I think it would have been best if a team made up of bankrupt property tycoons, corrupt politicians and duplicitous bankers called Gombeens United had been parachuted in to fill up the spare place.

While the FAI dealt with the uncertainty about league composition in their usual way, by telling all clubs to substitute Drogheda for Fingal in the Premier fixture list and giving the Drogs’ former presumed First Division opponents a spare weekend every 6 weeks, the cross border Setanta Shield limply kick-started the season. Viewed as glorified friendlies in the 26 Counties and an unpleasant distraction from real league action in the black north, 6 sides from each association (8 unseeded in R1, 4 seeded given byes to R2) will play 2 legged ties in front of almost deserted terracing, bar the occasional rabid sectarian loon in East Belfast or holidaying groundhopper within The Pale, before a final on 14^th May. To give a flavour of the magic of this cup, UCD drew 0-0 with Lisburn Distillery in front of a crowd of 150. In the opening round Dundalk beat Linfield, UCD and St Pat’s lost to Distillery and Cliftonville respectively and Bohs postponed their game with Portadown as they didn’t have enough players to field a team. What a shambles!

However, the real action is to be found in the Airtricity League, with fixtures getting underway on Friday March 4^th. Expect regular updates here, or go watch a game yourself via the web; http://www.rte.ie/ and http://www.tg4.ie/ show games on alternate weeks. The standard is decent and Galway United play in colours similar to Percy Main, which is good enough reason for me to tune in.