One of the greatest days ever to be a toon fan

I was 11 years old in the summer of 1989, and my whole world revolved around Newcastle. Even at 11 I was mortified and quite depressed at how things had gone so terribly wrong since we’d sold Gazza just 12 months before. We were relegated, and as ever Newcastle were as ever THE National joke. We were a feeder club. We bought players off Portsmouth, Birmingham and Crewe, and we’d sell players to Liverpool, Tottenham and Everton. That was the way it was in 1989. We had no self respect at all as a club. The fans had seen years of false dawns, all of their players were being sold and for what? A new stand that probably wouldn’t be filled due to the numerous body blows the side was consistently taking by, a draconian board failing to appreciate what the fans wanted.

All through the summer there was a lot of talk of mass boycotts. People had just about had enough of McKeag and a hierarchy who had achieved nothing really since the mid 50’s. A group formed during the summer going under the name of USFC (United Supporters For Change), looking back they were nothing more than a few teenagers and early twenties lads who thought the best course of action was to boycott matches, thus forcing senior board members to resign, enabling Malcolm Dix, Hall and the Magpie Group to take us to the promised land. While ethically I appreciate why the USFC did this, as a young child my life wouldn’t be complete without a Saturday afternoon in the Gallowgate, and there was no way I was allowing my dad and my friends to follow suit.

On the playing side we basically finished the previous season, with a joke side. I remember we in essence didn’t have a striker, Anth Lormor and Steve Howey played up front in the final desperate act in a 2-0 defeat at Old Trafford. Mirandinha was still on the books, but he couldn’t be arsed towards the end, and he was shunted off to Portuguese side Belenenses, Smith didn’t like him at all, that much was obvious and the feeling was very much mutual.

On a brighter note a few of the summer arrivals, certainly proved to be decent value. Mick Quinn came in from Portsmouth for £680,000 (a big fee then), Mark McGhee crossed the border from Celtic, another Scot to join the club was young winger John Gallacher for a tiny fee, Kevin Dillon the experienced Birmingham schemer came in on a free and Smith made him club captain immediately, while Mark Stimson came North from Tottenham. Added to this we still retained a few decent players from the previous season, Bjorn Kristensen (Benny) for one, Kevin Scott, Brock was mediocre but was a decent passer, Andy Thorn was at the club, and in Tommy (the barman) Wright, we had a competent keeper, who loved the club from the word go..

The Second Division was looking extremely strong though aside from Newcastle. Newcastle had finished rock bottom of the First Division, and also relegated West Ham and Boro were well clear of us despite demotion. Leeds United, had done something that was almost unprecedented outside the top flight. They spent approaching £12m building what was to prove to be a brilliant side. Strachan, Sterland, Chapman, Vinny Jones, Chris Fairclough and John Hendrie, amongst others came in all with hefty fees on their heads, adding to a few magnificent young players, like David Batty who went on to play 39 games that season, and the effervescent Gary Speed. They weren’t the only decent side though, oh no. Sheffield United and Wolves both came up, from the Third Division, with feared striking partnerships. Wolves’ strikers were arguably the most potent in the division with Steve Bull, who became the clubs leading ever scorer, and Andy Mutch. Leicester had a reasonable side buoyed their inspirational captain Gary McAllister, and young impressive Arsenal loanee Kevin Campbell. Sunderland as much as I hate admitting it were one of the better sides, all in all it was a hugely competitive league. When you consider Reading won it in 2005/2006 with 112 points, it demonstrates how competitive the league was in the 89/90 season when 85 points was good enough to capture the title.

Leeds, who had been in almost terminal decline since their hugely controversial 1975 European Cup Final defeat to Bayern Munich, were installed as low as 6/4 to win the league, and when the fixture list came out the biggest two clubs in the division would lock horns at St James’ on the opening Saturday.

I remember my mates dad, a bloke who was like Francis Begbie but really funny too and likeable in a way despite being a foul mouthed, drunken, abusive, psychopath at times, he said there was no way he was allowing his son to go to the Leeds game. He recounted countless tales of serious violence with Leeds fans in the 70’s and 80’s and he tried his best to convince me not to go, “they’re animals, they’re not human, they smashed up The Magpie (on Barrack Road)….” His comments seemed to me even more poignant by the fact that it had been reported in the local press that after selling the 5,000 Leazes End tickets in a matter of hours, many hundreds of Leeds fans had obtained tickets for the Newcastle sections of the ground, and without being cynical, ticket sales were so slow it wouldn’t have surprised many if the club had unofficially sanctioned it.

Anyway this was the first season I was allowed to go on my own, although my dad came along a lot but against Leeds there was me and two of my mates, as we walked along Stawberry Place, we picked up our usual hot dog with onions, from this funny lookin bloke, with KEEGAN’S HOTDOGS, in big letters along the side of his little food trolley, we could see that estimates of a gate under 20,000 were going to be wide of the mark. That said there were scores of people in these USFC, telling us we were killing the club by going in, fuck them I thought at the time. So in we went handed over our £2 to the turnstile operator, straight up the Gallowgate steps turn right for a quick piss, in what was, for younger people reading who never had to put up with this, basically an open sewer, but I look back fondly on the Gallowgate bogs.

“We are Leeds, WEEEEEEEEEEE ARE LEEDS, WE ARE LEEDS, WE ARE LEEDS…” Pipe down you Yorkshire twats, but I tell you something they made some noise, we were very much on a low, after relegation, but we had Quinn and McGhee up front, so it while we were very much outsiders, it was like a trip in to the unknown. Anyway five new players, 99% of us had never heard of John Gallacher, but what a debut he had. I was 11 years of age, but even then I grasped the disgrace at what it was for Newcastle United to have a MACKEM captain. However, that’s exactly what Kevin Dillon was. A mackem. Captaining Newcastle!! A fuckin mackem. I wouldn’t care, but he was the slowest player I think we’ve ever had. Hopeless.

The lads I go to the match with now, were in Heaton Buffs, at the USFC (nothing to do with this shite yank fighting thing you see today) aka United Supporters For Change boycott rally. Apparently there were thousands there. Even so 25,000 piled in for what was one of the most memorable games I can ever remember. We were outsiders, and within 10 minutes went 1-0 up with a penalty awarded despite the fact the foul was outside the box. Mick Quinn stepped up comments of “he’ll never score this fat bastard” ringing in my ears from all around me, perfect penalty. 1-0. Within twenty minutes we were 1-2 down, one of the scorers was a mackem called Bobby Davison if I remember correctly, and the mouthy Leeds fans were in their element.

I hate Leeds they were averaging 10,000 in 1986, someone comes in with a bit of money and they think they’re the best supporters in the world. The same will happen when they’re promoted back to the Premier League this time too. The fact is for a city of 850,000 people with a catchment area arguably bigger than any other in Britain given the fact there’s only one team, they are a wank club. Never ever be taken in by their lies. They have places like Wakefield (bigger than Middlesbrough) on their doorstep and they still struggle to get 25,000 even in this era of football. A rugby town if ever there was one.

Anyway 1-2 down at half time, the next 45 minutes, to this day is easily in the top three I’ve ever seen as a toon fan, we ended up winning 5-2, Mick Quinn ended up with four goals, what an absolutely brilliant day to be a toon fan. As we all know the season ended in the most heartbreaking fashion for us, losing in the play offs to the mackems, Leeds won the league and within two years were the actual champions of England. However, this is still a cherished memory for the geordie flat top hair brigade of the era.

I’ll say no more and let you enjoy it here from 1 minute 18 onwards.