different. Newcastle were loaded and had few rivals in terms of spending power; that, coupled with Kev’s then-untarnished ebullience, was sufficient to bring them tantalisingly close to glory.
‘Perhaps it’s not for us to understand the Geordies and their rose-tinted fetish of the miner’s son’
But if you look at the top flight now can one really envisage Keegan outsmarting teams bossed by David Moyes, Juande Ramos, Mark Hughes, not to mention the big four and Cockney Moses and Ulster Herod? I suppose when you’re in love such things cease to be relevant.
‘He’s got a suspect temperament.’ ‘Oh I know but look at his hair.’ ‘He struggles tactically with defence.’ ‘Yeah, but when he looks into my eyes I feel like I’m the only person on earth.’ ‘He makes emotional decisions then walks away when he feels the heat.’ ‘Look, just fuck off will you, I love him.’
For Newcastle fans those fêted few seasons under Keegan still have the power of transcendental love, an idyllic holiday away from the glum drudgery of under-achievement and of course they will once more be guaranteed cavalier, adventurous football – he is the anti-Allardyce.
Perhaps it’s not for us to try to understand the Geordies and their rose-tinted fetish of the admittedly adorable miner’s son – few outside of east London will appreciate the adulation felt for ‘vicious-looking’ Julian Dicks, and Robbie Fowler could probably push an old lady in a wheelchair into the Mersey without relinquishing his status as ‘God’.
In a sport increasingly compromised for capitalist ends perhaps we should celebrate this tiny triumph of the heart over the head, while Liverpool’s beloved Rafael Benítez looks like he’s about to be ‘Jolled’ good and proper by a board that clearly don’t respect the feelings of the Kop. The Toon army is being heard.
To me it seems that Keegan can but fail, but what the bloody hell do I know, I’m no expert and I don’t support Newcastle but as a fan of football and romance I should be cock-a-hoop at this recalcitrant disregard for reason.
Perhaps Alan Shearer will join as his no. 2; they could commence each home match with a Women in Love -style nude wrestle in the centre circle while Michael Owen blows cocaine into their anuses. Why not? It’ll be a bonding experience like no other.
Keegan’s appointment is romantic rather than pragmatic but does that make it wrong? I suppose the correct answer is ‘who cares?’ It’s made thousands of people incredibly happy and unless he’s had a massive change in philosophical direction in the interim period the consequences are unlikely to be as horrifically profound as Hitler’s elevation. Just to be clear: Keegan good, Hitler bad.
24
Is Morrissey talking the language of West Ham?
Is it insanely narcissistic for me to contemplate that Morrissey is trying to communicate with me through the wearing of replica West Ham tops? The answer is, of course, ‘Yes’. ‘Yes it is. Why would you even need to ask?’ Well, because I’ve been courting Morrissey, of whom I’m a lifelong fan (if that life is about 18 years), for several months with the intention of persuading him to commit to a documentary where I interview him, follow him about and analyse his legacy.
‘I became rigid with dashed expectation as I awaited my name like it was the sixth Lotto Thunderball number’
He is aware of my devotion to the Hammers and seems rather fond of me; recently on stage at a handful of gigs that I was unfortunately unable to attend he introduced the members of his band before saying ‘and I’m Russell Brand’. When I heard tell of this I became all queasy and loopy and reckoned it to be the start of a beautiful friendship with a beloved icon. The knowledge of this name-check dramatically impaired my enjoyment of the performance I attended at the Camden Roundhouse this week (‘I don’t perform, seals perform…unfortunately’) as between each song I
‘Perhaps it’s not for us to understand the Geordies and their rose-tinted fetish of the miner’s son’
But if you look at the top flight now can one really envisage Keegan outsmarting teams bossed by David Moyes, Juande Ramos, Mark Hughes, not to mention the big four and Cockney Moses and Ulster Herod? I suppose when you’re in love such things cease to be relevant.
‘He’s got a suspect temperament.’ ‘Oh I know but look at his hair.’ ‘He struggles tactically with defence.’ ‘Yeah, but when he looks into my eyes I feel like I’m the only person on earth.’ ‘He makes emotional decisions then walks away when he feels the heat.’ ‘Look, just fuck off will you, I love him.’
For Newcastle fans those fêted few seasons under Keegan still have the power of transcendental love, an idyllic holiday away from the glum drudgery of under-achievement and of course they will once more be guaranteed cavalier, adventurous football – he is the anti-Allardyce.
Perhaps it’s not for us to try to understand the Geordies and their rose-tinted fetish of the admittedly adorable miner’s son – few outside of east London will appreciate the adulation felt for ‘vicious-looking’ Julian Dicks, and Robbie Fowler could probably push an old lady in a wheelchair into the Mersey without relinquishing his status as ‘God’.
In a sport increasingly compromised for capitalist ends perhaps we should celebrate this tiny triumph of the heart over the head, while Liverpool’s beloved Rafael Benítez looks like he’s about to be ‘Jolled’ good and proper by a board that clearly don’t respect the feelings of the Kop. The Toon army is being heard.
To me it seems that Keegan can but fail, but what the bloody hell do I know, I’m no expert and I don’t support Newcastle but as a fan of football and romance I should be cock-a-hoop at this recalcitrant disregard for reason.
Perhaps Alan Shearer will join as his no. 2; they could commence each home match with a Women in Love -style nude wrestle in the centre circle while Michael Owen blows cocaine into their anuses. Why not? It’ll be a bonding experience like no other.
Keegan’s appointment is romantic rather than pragmatic but does that make it wrong? I suppose the correct answer is ‘who cares?’ It’s made thousands of people incredibly happy and unless he’s had a massive change in philosophical direction in the interim period the consequences are unlikely to be as horrifically profound as Hitler’s elevation. Just to be clear: Keegan good, Hitler bad.
24
Is Morrissey talking the language of West Ham?
Is it insanely narcissistic for me to contemplate that Morrissey is trying to communicate with me through the wearing of replica West Ham tops? The answer is, of course, ‘Yes’. ‘Yes it is. Why would you even need to ask?’ Well, because I’ve been courting Morrissey, of whom I’m a lifelong fan (if that life is about 18 years), for several months with the intention of persuading him to commit to a documentary where I interview him, follow him about and analyse his legacy.
‘I became rigid with dashed expectation as I awaited my name like it was the sixth Lotto Thunderball number’
He is aware of my devotion to the Hammers and seems rather fond of me; recently on stage at a handful of gigs that I was unfortunately unable to attend he introduced the members of his band before saying ‘and I’m Russell Brand’. When I heard tell of this I became all queasy and loopy and reckoned it to be the start of a beautiful friendship with a beloved icon. The knowledge of this name-check dramatically impaired my enjoyment of the performance I attended at the Camden Roundhouse this week (‘I don’t perform, seals perform…unfortunately’) as between each song I
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