Who Are You Calling Racist?

One would think The Guardian newspaper a publication the least likely to single out a minority group for insult. Perpetuating unfair and inaccurate stereotypes and using hurtful and offensive language against a group of people offered no chance to defend themselves? Surely not – yet Louise Taylor within her match report from The Riverside once again chose to abuse her position by stating that some Newcastle fans were “morons” with  “the fleeting whiff of Islamophobia” when singing “he’s got a bomb Mido” at the Egyptian Middlesbrough striker.

Many of you will have been bored and irritated by this piffle last season when Ms Taylor succeeded in whipping up quite the little witch hunt. When the truth is that the only people insulted during this pathetic non-story were the fans of Newcastle United.

It had been pointed out in various places before the Newcastle game at Middlesbrough last season that Mido bares a striking resemblance to shoe-bomber Richard Reid and this was considered funny or satirical. Some Newcastle fans point this out and we are racist. It is apparently laughable that Newcastle fans might read or watch topical quiz shows – presumably we are all too busy beating our whippet-wives with a coal allotment or something.

Regrettably some of the older members of the tribe have seen real racism from Newcastle supporters, so we know what it looks like, and this aint it. They used to sell National Front papers outside St James’s Park and the club did nothing about it – so some fans took it upon themselves to spit in these people’s faces and threaten them until they went away.

We fought this war and we won it on our own so don’t you dare call us racist. Can I vouch for the character of every Newcastle fan at the Riverside – can I speak for over three thousand individuals? No, of course not – but here is the vital point – neither can anybody else

You come to my house and call me racist or Islamophobic and I’ll bash you to death with half a dozen Asian Dub Foundation cds, You call me a racist in print and I’ll sue you for defamation of character. How many mosques have you been to this year Taylor? – I’ve (respectfully) been to half a dozen, you can’t beat me on this argument.

Louise Taylor throws accusations about with unacceptable abandon – happy to have the word racist in a sentence also home to the words Newcastle and United for what can only be viewed as malicious intent. Witness the reporting of Joey Barton’s spat with Gabby Agbonlahor – Barton was accused of saying something racist – nothing came of it, people asked why and Agbonlahor was praised for letting it go. A lip reader was employed by one of them crap lad’s magazines and Barton seemed to say, after an Agbonlahor foul, “What the f*** was that, you f***ing w*nker?” I’ve tried really hard to find something pertinent to the Villa player’s colour in there and there’s nothing – the story ran in the Guardian for three days and any likelihood of Barton’s innocence was never mentioned.

One of the many problems we have got with our club being half-run on a day to day basis by people who don’t want to be here is that nobody gives a crap about our players or fans being treated in such as shabby way. Would former chairman (and lawyer) Chris Mort have stood for Barton being given a six match ban for a crime that, not only didn’t happen during an actual match, but was a crime he’d already been punished for, twice.  For the most part lawyers should stay out of football but the threat of them should make people act fairly – in the present climate we are being openly accused of things that are offensive to us.

 And where is our new supporters group during this latest round of media lies – surely if it has a point, if it’s going to be worthwhile having an organised voice, they should be issuing very strongly worded statements and be getting lawyers onto the Guardian.  A letter with the word “defamation” in near “millions of pounds” brings this vendetta to an end.

Mido looks like Richard Reid and the idea that he has a bomb about his person like that character on The Muppet Show who used to blow himself up every week is funny. What the hell has that got to do with his colour or his faith? We used to sing “fat Eddie Murphy”  at Jimmy Floyd Hasselbaink – no one thought that was racist.

what’s the difference? Except for the evil and deliberate misinterpretation of a lady with connections on Wearside – none that I can see.

Newcastle United 2 v Wigan 2

There’s a game you can play when watching football this season – it seems fun at first but the more you play it………. I’ll explain: it’s called “if Joey Barton had done that” and what you do is watch the behaviour of footballers who are not Joey Barton, then imagine what the reaction would be had it been Joey Barton. For example the week before this game Wayne Rooney (playing for Man U v Hull) dived into a tackle, studs up around his opponents thigh, with a reckless disregard to a fellows well-being similar to stuffing fireworks into your neighbours underpants. Before the ref could bring whistle to lip, Rooney had leapt up and committed a worse foul before getting up a second time, snapping and snarling, and swearing in the ref’s face. 3 bookable offences in less than 10 seconds. Impressive. On the other hand “if Joey Barton had done that” – you get the idea.

What this proves is that different players are playing by different rules.

We have suspected this for some time, John Terry, Jamie Carragher and Rio Ferdinand can pull people over, shove, handball in the area and abuse officials until the cows come home with little fear of censure. On the other hand in our recent game with Aston Villa Shola Ameobi was obviously booked for persistently allowing himself to be fouled.

Imagine if Joey Barton, had on one day, put a fellow professional out for two months with a dangerous challenge, tried to do the same thing to a different player five minutes later, faded in the second half to the point that he was walking round out of position for the last twenty minutes, fat and gasping for breath – then gone out on the night for an “altercation” – the press would have exploded with indignation.

Lee Cattermole does it and in many quarters that makes him man of the match?

Cattermole got the ball in the tackle that put Barton out – but that doesn’t matter anymore if the tackle is deemed reckless or violent and anyone one as ever played the role of midfield bastard, at any level, will tell you exactly what was going on with that tackle. Nice of Joey to say otherwise but he will never be extended the same courtesy.

And because Cattermole is such an unrepentant little shithouse he tried to do Butt minutes later – which earned him a stiff talking to. The Wigan sending off, when it came, was tough on Boyce because his tackle on Shola was clean but Wigan were always going to get a man sent off in this game, always. They were spiky and aggressive from the start and they were also cynical and thick – a heady cocktail and Steve Bruce can bleat on all he likes about injustice – he presumably sent them out to play like that – and the time wasting, jeezus. Steve Bruce needs to be Newcastle manager alright, it would take us about three months for us to finish him forever, like Souness, Allardyce, Gullit and any other over-hyped gas-bag who has buckled under questioning up here.

Don’t know where that leaves Joe Kinnear but he pulled it round in this game. Because in the first half we were dreadful, dozy and witless. The first Saturday 3 o’clock kick off in weeks and we were all blinking and dopey like it was 5 o’clock in the morning, players and crowd. D.J. Rob should have come on the tannoy, dropped some bomb noises like he was Tim Westwood and shouted “WAKE THE F**K UP!!” Did we all just think Wigan would be easily beaten? If we did Taylor’s goal after 3 minutes should have told us otherwise. It looked a horrible fluke at the time – but after repeat viewing, the angle of his foot suggests it was deliberate. Doubt he will ever be able to do it again in his life though.

Newcastle had the best chance in the first half; Martins driving straight at Kirkland after some scrambling 18 yards out.

Boyce was sent off early in the second half – booked in the first for hacking down Gutiérrez before Cattermole could get there - he slid in on Shola and was off when the smart money would have been on Bramble or Cattermole who never stopped kicking people or Palacios because he spent so much time rolling around on the floor. Kirkland should have also been cautioned for time wasting and sent off for doing those daft little dolly-steps before every goal kick.

From then on it was all Newcastle except for a break from Camara who outstripped Coloccini and beat Given only to hit the post.

The subs were obvious so the booing didn’t make sense. I bow to few people in my admiration for Jonas but he was way off it and at least Duff was showing some urgency. N’Zogbia for Enrique gave us more going forward and having a fit Owen on the bench in our position is madness. A great run from Oba along the Gallowgate touchline set up Owen who trying to hit the near post missed horribly before he redeemed himself by pouncing on the rebound from an Ameobi shot.

On 87 minutes we thought we had won, Oba skipping in from the left and cracking a rifle shot across the goal into the inside side netting but Beye headed a ball out that Shay was about to catch, Shola lost Bramble at the corner and Duff failed to block on the line.

In the immediate aftermath of the recent game at sunderland a charming young lady from the Sunday Sun asked me for a quote regarding Joey Barton kissing his badge. I was, understandably, in something of a bad mood so didn’t think to pass the request on to the new Toon Politburo or to Steve Wraith who are actually responsible for telling the world what we all think. “Joey is our boy. As long as he stands by us, we will stand by him,” said I and they printed it. What they didn’t print, presumably down to space, was the next bit I gave them; “and everyone else can go to hell.” I mention it now not just because I hate being edited but because it is the important side of the Barton debate nobody seems to want to talk about. Joey is our player, for us to deal with.

The priorities of the anti-Barton lynch mob and those of Newcastle fans are not the same – for a start not upsetting the delicate sensibilities of squealing gibbons in red and white shirts isn’t very high on the list of things we want him to care about.

Joe Kinnear was asked if it was wise to play Barton at sunderland when the only mistake he made was not to start with him as captain. Joe, bless his heart, seems to like telling the press to “f**k off!” – making Barton captain would be sticking his fingers up and farting in their faces at the same time. The timing of Barton’s return could not have been better because any Newcastle fan feeling the misguided urge to boo him would put themselves on the side of sunderland supporters and sometimes in life it really is “whose side are you on?” 

The press have been falling over themselves to demonise Barton and I’m sick and bored of it and I won’t be told what to think by bastards, people who manufacture outrage, liars and hypocrites. How many of the papers witch hunting Joey printed disgusting lies about the parents of Madeleine McCann – and then they have the f**king nerve to moralise at us – f**k them. But they don’t stop – scapegoats are not allowed to defend themselves from a press-led hate mob – witness Barton laughing off a pathetic dive by Nasri of Arsenal after a fair challenge being reported as him smiling smugly after a foul. It seems all you can do is keep your head down and wait for some other poor mug to incur the wrath of people looking to scream “disgrace!”

How Joey Barton must have loved Russell Brand and Jonathon Ross taking on the role of baby-peeling, granny murdering, goat molesters or whatever it is that The Daily Mail think is going to end the f***ing world this week.

 This is from BBC Radio Ulster;

Noel Gallagher said he was "outraged" that columnists in the press had "dictated the tone and are telling people how to behave. It's so typical of the English in general - 10,000 people get outraged, but only five days after it has happened. You know what? There's now a massive divide. Them and us," he added.

I love Noel for this, as the complaints hit 30,000 and phone-ins went into their third day of asking people how outraged they were you couldn’t help but think – 5 million dead in the Congo, the world on the edge of financial Armageddon and this is what people are up in arms about? People are idiots.

For a start anyone who ever says, “If I did that at work, I’d get the sack” when being outraged by anything are hoisting a little flag with “tosser” written on it.

It is Joey Barton’s job to be aggressive. It is Russell Brand’s job to be silly and he is very good at it. In this case he was admittedly too silly but that was still his job. It’s probably not your job to be silly much like if you said, “If I went to work and started punching people in the face, I’d get the sack” – that’s because you are not Ricky Hatton. “If I turned up for work in leather chaps with my arse exposed and started dancing to techno music in a cage I’d get the sack” – that’s because you are probably not a dancer in a San Francisco nightclub. “If I turned up for work and blew the building up I’d get the sack” – that’s because you are probably not a demolition expert. “If I turned up for work and started telling people to F**k Off I’d get the sack” – that’s because you are not me – now be a good chap and f*** off!

Echo & The Bunnymen – Royal Albert Hall

The Royal Albert Hall, that hive of British culture has had excitable crowds buzzing through its many doors for decades, the sheer weight of its size and reputation is as oppressive as it is impressive. Inside, stage front is the floor where you may have seen the toffs standing singing Land Of Hope And Glory during The Last Night Of The Proms. Going up from there, opening out in warm red, are layers of soft seats and plush carpets until at the very top you find the Gallery where we stand leaning over the highest balcony. It’s like peering into the world’s biggest vagina.

The Bunnymen are doing a 25^th anniversary performance of the  “Ocean Rain” album with half an orchestra and even up in the clouds the sound is immaculate. They do a ‘best of’ set then there’s a break where only the swiftest and thirstiest punters could get a drink in the ridiculously crowded bars before doing the album in question track by track. If “The Killing Moon” ever sounded better than here with a battalion of strings attached people will have died of joy and….

Right that’s got rid of casual readers – culture, vaginas and Ian Mac’s velvety voice will cut straight through to the hard core – we can get to the real point because there are some things you can only say amongst friends: like; if as many people died at football in Newcastle as have done at The Great North Run they would have closed St James’ down years ago. It’s bloody dangerous and there are perverts in the bushes watching ladies going to the toilet. Ban it.

Heavy enough for ya?

Right then – get this (and remember we are a family and we love each other) but we must still whisper; At home (cough) Newcastle fans are not the best fans in the world.

(Cough) who said that?

Oh we used to be and like old heavyweight boxers we will always think we can be again and if anybody outside the family says it we’ll laugh in their faces but right now? Forget it.

In our defence, it’s not our fault. Trouble is gallows wit, a carefree attitude, belief in ourselves, respect for our club and the honour of the tribe have been kicked out of us by liars and bastards.

We have been betrayed by everybody.

And there is more to this than the present shambles which is merely the most recent and cruel kick in the head. We have all over-reacted to Mike Ashley’s mistakes because we were already sick to death. It’s not long since Liverpool were in our wake, now we are drowning while they hit the ski jumps on the horizon and this situation is entirely down to bad management from Newcastle United – on and off the pitch.

Most recently the sale of Milner helped nobody except Aston Villa and Leeds (watching the last few games how has his absence helped Newcastle United?) whoever sanctioned the sale was being short sighted and stupid. Something we have seen far too much of.

Slumped in my seat, silent, arms folded and scowling at players, some of whom I wouldn’t take the time to drown in their own piss isn’t helping anybody. And I’m not alone, can you remember the last time we got behind an individual player who needed, or would have appreciated, a lift? Meanwhile the press bite chunks off us and jeer sarcastically. The fascinating thing about Joe Kinnear’s outburst against the media that nobody picked up on, was that he came into this situation and was shocked by the sneering, undermining tone of reporting. Whereas we fans barely noticed because that’s the way we are treated by the press in Newcastle. All the time. Little wonder we have become demoralised.

Away from home it is difficult to imagine any fans beating our numbers + miles travelled + noise made to tangible reward ratio, despite the fact that you can’t go away without agreeing to let some greedy chairman molest your wallet with his sweaty fingers and the Portsmouth game being shifted to an early kick off tells you how much everybody else cares about our welfare; but at home we have got mean, lazy and flabby.

OK gobshite, you may say, so who is better? Well nobody in this country for a start so you have to look abroad. Argentina, Brazil, China? I haven’t been.

Beşiktaş of Istanbul caught my eye. I saw them at home to Liverpool last season on TV in the Champions League and was gobsmacked. The ground was full three hours before kick off and the noise was unrelenting. Their team gave Liverpool a hell of a game but in the away leg without the support they lost 8 – 0. It would be patronising and wrong to say that game was a one off, “their big day” – I went last month to check it out for myself, a UEFA Cup game against Metalist from the Ukraine and despite the ground not being full the support was thrilling and the hair on the back of my neck prickled for 90 minutes.

With a ground on the banks of the Bosphorus, Beşiktaş (The Black Eagles), apart from having cool little tails on their S’s (ş = sh – Beshiktash) play in black and white stripes and are traditionally the left wing/anarcho team of Istanbul’s 5 top flight teams. The hardcore fans, the Çarşı, have a motto “Çarşı is against everything” and they have displayed banners protesting against racism, nuclear power child pornography and while officially defunct from May this year their “rebellious spirit” remains as does the logo on a lot of the fans clothes.

In the stadium the P.A. hammers out banging techno before the match and at half time which provides a sense of urgency (unlike Local f***ing Hero) and the mascots (two people dressed as tins of Turkish cola with big goggly eyes stuck on) dance and jump into one another. A fire engine emerges from behind one of the goals and squads of riot police circle the pitch. A sprinkle of Ukrainians start to sing and the Beşiktaş support machine growls into life.

Quality of support is relative and difficult to judge but Beşiktaş are the loudest recorded football crowd ever at 132 decibels. The organisation is stunning with a call and response thing from the centre of one stand to the corner of another, then up and down the centre stand then side to side, then they all hush themselves before starting again only louder. Then louder. Then louder. Then so loud you feel dizzy. They do that thing where the crowd link arms and pogo from side to side within their row of seats with the next row down going the other way and so on, then all their arms are pumping in unison and it is relentless and thrilling. And me…?

The cynical old ‘seen it all before’ veteran of Toon trench warfare? I can barely look at the pitch despite Beşiktaş having that most piratey of footballers Rustu in goal and a tidy team captained by Argentinean Delgado and Brazilian striker Bobo on as a sub.

The Black Eagles won 1-0 (they lost the away leg 4-1 and are out) but that hardly mattered. My sister, an Istanbul resident who got the tickets and took us, asked why Newcastle fans didn’t support their team like that and I could barely begin to list the reasons. Apart from anything, joy and honour are now alien concepts to us. Perhaps when the present nightmare is over and we are all on the same side again….

Once again I must thank Gilaz for helping out. Yes mate, I do owe you more than one beer.