Reply With QuoteThe halcyon days of a barmy British Summer, beer gardens, 2 weeks in the sun, Oasis wafting over the pool from the speakers:
‘Need a little time to wake up, wake up
Need a little time to wake up
Need a little time to rest your mind
You know you should so I guess you might as well
What's the story, morning glory?
Weeeeeeeeell?
Need a little time to wake up, wake up
Weeeeeeeeell?
[Guitar Solo]
Season closed, much to be optimistic about.
No football, idle hands, the devils work!
Hacks and pundits alike looking to maintain relevance. Jostling for position on highlight panels for the upcoming season. Column inches to be filled. Backsides to be wiped with the vast majority of the copy printed. Boy did it drag.
It dragged alright. The clawing, gnawing, gruelling Media circus ground on and on, ground down to the bone.
Like trying to read Classic Russian literature and pretending to genuinely give a shyte.
Trying to be all cultured and classy n that… Shyte!
After 100 pages of bollox, it suddenly dawns on you that you’re still not even through the pre-face. That smug feeling of being holier than thou, all reet sophisticated n that, smarted than the average bear Booboo plummets at realising this Tolstoy fella hasn’t even kick the story off yet.
What a d*ckhead!
No wonder those Ruski fellas drink vodka like water & thought ‘Hey let’s give this communism schtick a bash!’ Shocking!
But. Sod all that. There’s the important business of a Saudi war chest to spend.
Yet more endless reports of about financial rules and restrictions, the debacle of June, Bruno’s release clause, misinformation and press snipping, trolling and provocation wound us all right up. Komrade Stammer stormed the barricades of No.10. The nation burned and we once again saw the ugly truth of our current plight as 21 century Britons. Politics much like the footballing establishment are rotten to the core.
Rats scurry out, rats scurry in. The new ones, same as the old ones in Whitehall.
Closer to home, certain Gardening Rats scurry off to the swamp to join the other sewer dwellers. The man’s a hype job. His career record unclear. Copy and pasted the French & Spanish model on to St George’s park, pat on the back for that midget man.
I mean, ‘Hub Man’ didn’t reinvent the wheel, did he?
A glorified secretary ‘I connect all the departments; I make sure we all communicate.’
Flattered to deceive is a massive understatement.
One thing is abundantly clear. Whilst with England he gave Mr Sam Allardyce the manager’s job.
"He's brilliant at galvanising," Ashworth told Sky Sports News HQ. "He will galvanise the players and the supporters. We all need picking up and leading into hopefully a successful qualifying campaign for Russia and then the tournament itself. I'm sure Sam will be ideal for that.
"We have a lot of good, young technical players. We were the youngest squad at the Euros, we think there's a lot of growth in those players who will be better for the experience they've just had. He's an acute tactician and he will get the best out of the players.
"The sign of a good manager is they add value to teams and managers and Sam over his long and distinguished career has added value to every single one of the teams he has been in charge of."
Ashworth said the FA always wanted to appoint an English manager and said Allardyce stood out because of his long-term commitment to analytics and sports science.
Good riddance I say.
But I digress…
The Euros came and went. England, Kane, Southgate did us all over once again. Led us all up the garden path with hopes and dreams. The greatest assembly of English footballing talent since Sir Matt’s boys hammered home the pig bladder at Wembley some 58 yrs ago.
To the final, somehow. Shocking performances. Moments of Bellingham brilliance. Only to get humped in the final by a team, who’s manager has a chin and knows this crazy now philosophy to the beautiful game, tactics.
What a revelation Gareth! Imagine if that chode had of fluked it, he’d have been knighted.
Sir Gareth of Chinless. Let that one sink in. I guess a bullet was dodged. We’d have to have seen his snivelling nasal face on every football sofa for time and memorial.
The departure of Amanda and Mehrdad. Sad to see them go. A great thing they have done for us. We knew it wasn’t a forever love but a fleeting fling with a class pair of international cuties. That posh north Yorkshire lass with horses, a summer crush. A love that was bound to end. God bless them both on their new adventures. In years to come we’ll see a photo in an old album and the heart and soul will stir at the memories. The speeches, the lasses coming home to SJP, real joy they shared with us the roller coaster of emotions as we soared to the heights of 4th place. They allowed us to believe, the restored our TRUE FAITH and brought back some pride and dignity to the club, the fans, the streets, the city and the global Geordie Nation.
Oh aye & the mint Photoshopped images of Cans of the train. Quality! haha
With the dumpster fires across the nation burning bright, the disappointment of yet more national team failure, a love lost in the director’s box our last refuge remained, to salvage a promising summer unravelling into one of disenchantment. Recruitment.
Wow, Paul Mitchell. A name we thought we’d not hear again. One mooted back in the very very early days of our take over journey. A strange PR strategy against the backdrop of the scurrying rats and clouds of PSR unknowns. The club didn’t handle it well at all. C-, must do better!
Sensible voices like Kieran McGuire spoke very clearly that transfer windows don’t just happen overnight, wheels are in motion months before and those locomotives are hard to get stopped; like turning the QE2.
The excitement, the anticipation of new signings, gave way to frustrated repetition.
Seeing other clubs doing business the emotional heads (us) wanted action, instant gratification. Expected, nay DEMANDING rabbits from hats, uncut gems and braggadociosly low prices we can all smugly crow about to counter the Signings of future stars Like Leni Yoro.
Thoughts drifting to who’s name we’re gonna be getting printed on the back of that class Adidas Home Strip or that mint retro homage away strip (looks even better in the away end at Wolves when Messrs Barnes et al faced the roar of the travelling faithful by the way!).
Again, the passion and joy, the optimism and fun, the potential new additions became yet another long slog through the Tolstoyesque Fleet street nightmare.
The grind of rubber face Parish comments. The liars in the press. The provocation of ITKs. The mockery from all quarters brought back all those horrid memories of previous abusive club-related relationships.
Some moments it felt like we were in a time warp. Zapped back to a period when our manager thought it was totally acceptable to try and stick the head on an opposition player & our owner proudly professed to being ‘A power drinker’ in the highest court of the land. £2.2B in wallpaper!
It’s still raw in the memory. I completely understand. The cocktail of emotional, passionate Geordies, the love of the club and the 15 yrs of emotional abuse. We all lived it. However, we do need to take a bit of advice from the 2nd coming of Jesus, Ms Taylor Swift and ‘Shake it off’.
So, there we all were, figuratively glued to our phones ever more increasingly desperate for some good news to break.
Like one given up smoking, ratty, short tempered, irritable, not accepting the reality that it’s seriously pishing us off. Denying the reality. Snipping at each other on X or here. Getting deep in the reads of this frigger Marc Guehi like he’s the love child of Franz Beckenbauer and Alessandro Nesta.
Refreshing every two mins eagerly anticipating a ‘HERE WE GO’ from Fab Ramo.
The sobering realisation that the window was slamming shut and Newcastle United are going to go through their alleged most significant Summer transfer window without a Marque signing.
Impossible! Surely not. The outrage. Everything must be utterly broken. CIVIL WAR, POWER STUGGLE.
NONSENSE!!!
When any company, business or organisation experiences such a rapid-rate growth progress is NEVER linear. 15 yrs experience of managing £10million + projects, stands as testament to that. If it can go wrong, it WILL go wrong. Of that you can be sure!
Are the club going to make mistakes and have they already made some?
Yes of course. They’ve been pretty flawless up until the injuries shattered our nostalgia & alcohol fuel rocket propelled ascent to the top for. Finishing 7th and this summer’s restructuring, less than stella performance in the transfer market is a big and necessary reality check. It hurts the love struck heart of the Geordie faithful who’s been afforded the indulgence of a rekindled long lasting love with Wor Lass from up the hill.
However, head must rule heart at least some of the time. We have to remember that this is a massive period of transition from a skeleton crewed club, the football equivalent of the Mary Celeste with Captain Penfold Pugwash rudderless to a fully staffed Nimitz class Aircraft carrier strike group with global reach and nation dominating capabilities.
Bygones be Bygones boys.
Nothing can be done about what has been and gone.
It’s a new dawn, it’s a new day, and I’m feeeeeeeling good.
3rd in the Prem after 4 games. Almost a completely fit squad. Top class talent in all the right positions at the club. Eddie Howe & Jason Tindle getting wins out of a misfiring team.
Things are only gonna get better. Good times ahead.
Thus, concludes my season opening verbal diarrhoea.
Please turn the cassette tape over to listen to the Spanish version of fast forward 5 mins for the greatest hits of Showaddywaddy.
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Originally Posted by Sclox
