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June to July 2020 - NUFC

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Today is a dark day on Tyneside. The ghosts of Macdonald, Shearer and Robson howl in anguish even though only 30% of them are dead. Sons, fathers, daughters all weep as the crown of football. a birthright in Byker and an expectation in Elswick is buried deeper than a stone in the Pacific ocean; an ocean big enough for the good ship Nufc that once ruled the world.
Generations of scruffy faced urchins coming out of the mines praying for a Nufc win to brighten their lives. The dreams of the hordes. The future of the children. All dashed as the Premier League dont understand what football means to the Geordies. The Geordies love football and their club like a stray dog loves an owner who will care for them. This dog needs a wash and a cuddle but the kennel club of London say no.
The Tyne tonight will run high. High full of Geordie tears. Deep like the deepest depth ever. And cold like the dagger of a NO from Saudi rammed deep into the Geordie heart of every Geordie.
The FA hate Geordies but Geordies are the people, the dreamers, the lovers, the winners in life. I hope the children of Yemen take a moment to realise that Saudi can be so much crueller.
52000 broken hearts abound. 52000 dreams dead. Cans back in the fridge.
George Caulkin the neutral journalist
 
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