September 2007 Archives

It’s the Great North Run this weekend and a time for the unfit to feel shamed, chastised and humbled by those who cheerfully set off in shorts and vests to raise money for charity by running 13 miles on a Sunday morning.

Surely Sunday mornings were meant for something less exhausting than that, but still, every year, thousands of them turn up to put themselves through it all. And aren’t they so smug about it as well?

This time last year, I intended for one of those brave souls to be me, but, unfortunately, as with last year and the year before that and the year before that - and probably the year after this - the project never got beyond the vague idea stage.

That’s that then, it’s all over, we might as well all give up and start following another sport instead. Arsenal are going to win everything....for the next ten years!

There was something depressing - okay Sunderland fans might disagree - for football fans everywhere in Arsenal’s victory over Newcastle United in the Carling Cup, that horrible sinking feeling when you think to yourself, ‘what is the point?

This was Arsenal’s reserve team, it wasn’t the same set of players who have put the Gunners at the top of the Premier League, it was a bunch of kids - average age of the starting XI was under 21 - who already have the ability, tactical nous and spirit to beat a decent rival team who, nominally at least, are in the same division.

I’m not even going to mention his name, nope if you want more speculation about groins, hernias, operations and recovery times for you know who, you had better look elsewhere because I’m not going to let another injury to - thou shall not say his name - spoil a thoroughly enjoyable victory for Newcastle at the weekend.

The rest of the country can worry about that little chap’s injury and whether he will be fit enough to play for England in some game or other next month because, for once, I’m going to be happy with what I’ve seen this weekend because hammering the Hammers is something that should be savoured.

After the debacle at Derby, Sam Allardyce needed a result which hinted at bigger and better things, something that not only brought three more points, but a performance that suggested his side were not only functional, but also capable of a little flair and finesse.

It is always something of a lottery these days anyway, but it will be interesting to see who gets booed and who gets cheered at St James’s Park on Sunday.

Come on, it’s far too early to start booing Sam Allardyce and the players who embarrassed themselves against Derby County and anyone who does so should be taken outside and shot (with a water pistol as I’m not allowed to condone the murder of fellow football fans) unless, that is, West Ham win 4-0 and then boo away. I might even join you!

Nope, I’m talking about the receptions given to West Ham’s former Newcastle players because, in case you have forgotten, Alan Curbishley has decided the best way to improve things at Upton Park is to sign lots of players who have won nothing and generally under-achieved at Newcastle first! A novel recipe for success, but not one Gordon Ramsay (or most football managers) would recommend I suspect!

Every now and again in my job I am fortunate enough to meet people who I once admired and respected from afar and Andy Cole falls firmly into that category.

I also get to meet people who, had they chosen to enter the kitsch, tacky world of Saturday evening light entertainment, might be considered to possess the X-Factor. It is a perk of the job but it doesn’t always make doing the job properly easy at times.

I have a childhood confession to make. When I was growing up there were three players who, if I did not quite worship, their posters did used to cover my walls.

The world is constantly evolving around us and the speed of change can sometimes appear quite frightening, but some things look as though they will always stay the same - like Newcastle United’s failure to win trophies and their infuriating inability to beat poor teams away from home.

There are some things in life so familiar they are like a small child’s comfort blanket, reassuring and secure. And then there are things that are so persistently irritating they become as annoying as a group of mosquito bites on your back. Newcastle United are sometimes the former, but more often than not become the latter.

Monday night’s defeat by Derby County epitomised everything that has been wrong about Newcastle’s away performances for years. So much for the new manager, new players, new chairman, new Newcastle theory!

Talking about a bank, mortgages and savings account is not normally the domain of a sports blog and, considering the fact my financial track record is about as impressive as George Bush’s foreign policy it isn’t generally a subject I like to offer advice on.

However, given their prominent links to North-East sport and the vital sponsorship backing they have given to Newcastle United, Newcastle Falcons, Durham CCC and, most recently, the Newcastle Eagles, I would urge everyone out there to support the Newcastle-based bank Northern Rock during their present troubles.

There are probably some of you out there who have no idea what I’m talking about and who cannot understand why I haven’t talked about Sunderland’s win over Reading - correctly predicted by me of course - Durham’s push for the County Championship, England’s calamitous World Cup defence in the Rugby or the Twenty20 World Cup, but bear with me.

Bored of Eng-ger-land? Bored of international football? Bored of Ian Wright talking in barely comprehensible English about his son Shaun Wright-Phillips? Bored of Steve McClaren's red face and crimes against hair? Well fret not because normal Premier League service will soon be resumed.

And I'm going to do a very brave thing, perhaps it is a foolish thing, perhaps it is a divine intervention, perhaps I can see into the future, perhaps it will just put the kiss of death on both teams, but I'm predicting wins for both Newcastle and Sunderland this weekend.

According to someone, once upon a time, a long time ago, there were three kinds of lies: lies, damn lies and statistics. And, according to someone else, a long time ago, somewhere in the world, there are two kinds of statistics, the kind you look up and the kind you make up.

Nevertheless, love them or hate them, statistics are everywhere in sport compiled, presumably, by people with leather patches on the elbows of tweed jackets, who used to be a member of the chess club at school after losing their dinner money to bullies and who now enjoy watching University Challenge with a cup of hot chocolate while playing Dungeons and Dragons online.

Useless England team and unpopular coach are lined up for the slaughter with semi-automatic weapons on Saturday morning. By Saturday evening and a 3-0 victory over Israel later England are now not only going to qualify for Euro 2008, we’re going to win the whole thing God damn it!

This, of course, is a perfectly normal reaction to an England performance and result. Lose and the players are a disgrace, they aren’t interested, the big name stars are over-rated, the manager is a red-faced clown with bad hair and a dour personality and there are too many foreigners in the Premier League.

Win and the players are superstars, among the best in the world, a golden generation ready to destroy all who dare to stand in front of them with a manager whose tactical genius and superior intellect not only makes him a natural leader of men, but also means he can pull off masterstrokes like recalling Emile Heskey. He’s still got bad hair and an irritating manner mind you, but hey, pressure? What pressure!