I was never good at football. In fact I’m not good at any sports. Which is a bit of a killer for me cos I love most of them. This is why I relate to Mc’s post about falling in love with the supporters. I was actually a little late in going to away games on my own - 1983 (first home game being in ‘74) and I was 17. It was Boro away. There was hell on. It was terrifying yet exhilarating all at the same time. I couldn’t get enough from then on in. And that was all through the Fat Stan/McKeag days - another era completely devoid of ambition. I was never one for bother or fighting but I loved being part of the away fans. The excitement level of going off to Barnsley on a bus or off to Manchester on a train on my own or whatever. Coventry; Derby wherever - made no difference whatsoever who they were playing or where or, indeed, what division. Proudly holding my Thatcher-inspired football I/D card (the photo of which I still have when I hadn’t shaved for a month and tried to look as hard as fuck by staring into the camera as if I’d just been banged up for a stretch) studying my ticket - the name of the stand you were to be penned in burning in your mind. Osmaston Road; Spion Kop; Platt Lane - these names took on mythical proportions. And off I’d go - at the crack of sparrows - to some far off land. It was more than an adventure - it was like an expedition - a sortie - like a black and white Chindit - behind enemy lines. The constant thought of “fuck! I’m gonna get my head kicked in here” nagging at you, praying on your mind and bringing you out in a sweat (particularly if you got yourself a bit paranoid on overdoing the old juice of guave on the way down). But still you went. I needed it. It got to the stage when I was a bit disappointed when we had back to back home games from time to time. Shit - at least 3 weeks to Sheff Wed or whatever. The adrenaline buzz of the game - last gasp winners or levellers - late sickeners. Hoarse beyond belief at the shouting you’d done. Lathered and knackered at all the effort you‘d put in getting behind them.
I’ve “liked“ a lot of the contributions in this thread
despite the conflicting views. Supporting NUFC is all about managing conflict in so many ways. It’s nothing new. And this is meant to be a pleasure?!
Yes - a concerted effort from the onset to rid Newcastle of the parasite would have done the trick I think. But we allowed the bloodsucker to get a foothold and continue to pay the price of that failure.
Yes, the game is shit now for all sorts of reasons and, as we’ve seen, it’s corrupt to the high heavens. I doubt I’ll be back either. I agree with what everyone is saying.
But for the young lads of today - going to away games in particular - is that so different to my day? They’re not all thick. They’re not all sheep. They hate Ashley. They know the score. Just as I did with McKeag and Fat Stan and the pirate before him. But at that age - it’s just noise. Yes - it’s about belonging and identity definitely - but above all it’s all about the fix. And, at that age, away games is the crack cocaine of football as far as a young supporter is concerned.