Til Death Do Us Part

February 14th 2007
From ToonArmyUSA

You have to feel for the poor Arsenal, Chelsea, and Man. Utd. fans don’t you? The drudgery of showing up week after week, watching your team chalk up win after monotonous win. Week’s go by and there’s nothing but praise in the national press (oh how they sing for your team!) for your team and your manager. Your players are all technically gifted; talented beyond their years; physically imposing; midfield generals, prolific strikers, and born again defenders. Jesus, even your coach is better than he’s ever been (dare I even say it, he’s ‘rejuvenated’).

In a word, life for you is boring. Your annual collection of silverware is the equivalent of the ritual summer holidays to Spain (predictable and never as good after the first time), your lack of scandal/player unrest/manager uncertainty the equal of a life lived in Devon (think sex, missionary position, for life), and your chairman’s cozy and stable relationship with your manager reminds me of Tuesday’s (nothing ever happens on a Tuesday).

How you must yearn for the whispers of backroom unrest, or perhaps some skullduggery in the dressing room. How about a manager that has “lost the players” or a striker who calls the manager a liar on national TV? Well heaven is a tight space son, and I’m afraid the Geordies have restricted it to waiting-list only.

Life as a Newcastle fan is one full with contradictions, unlikely resolution, apathetic defeats, improbable victories, predictable failures, uncanny coincidence, surprising resilience, and disappointing affirmations.

Liverpool took the miserable, rainy ride back to Merseyside thinking of what could have been last weekend, while the rest of us were left to ponder just how we can beat the scouse thoroughbreds one week and surrender to Fulham the week before.

How badly does the typical cockney-blue or Franco-highbrarian yearn for the chaos of a season-in-the-life of your average Geordie? Like a middle-class Essex housewife dreaming of a leg over with the young window cleaner’s apprentice, how he must clamour for the unrest of the chairman abusing the fans’ trust, or manipulating the press to get his hands on the clubs’ assets. Oh, the thrill of seeing his own players fighting each other DURING A GAME. The local papers covering your most recent “young” star out on the town crashing his Ferrari into a bridge/jailed for GBH/questioned for rape. And that’s just what’s going on off the pitch.

How about beating Barcelona at home (with a Tino hat trick) and then surrendering a 12 point lead for the league. Sacking a manager that gets you into the Champions League (and saves you from relegation) and then hiring a replacement not fit to lace his boots?

And again, there’s giving up away to Fulham and beating Liverpool at home.

Aye, as the words to the great song go, “no one said it was gonna be easy”. And to be honest, I’m not sure we’d have it any other way. Would you really cash in this soap opera of highs and desperate lows for the constant, steady, sleep depriving drip of success? Would you meet the devil at the crossroads and trade your life affirming (and divorce inducing) support for the sup of a pint of success? Howay Man.

And if you were ever in any doubt as to what I’m talking about, consider an email sent yesterday by a fellow fan to the ToonArmyUSA message board. It wasn’t enough for us to send the scousers home with nowt, he had a right go at Roeder for playing Dyer up front and Taylor out of position. Get in there son! You just can’t buy that now, can you?

I mean it’s not like we’re struggling for players or anything, is it?