Some wag in the pub last night compared Mike Ashley to ‘Jabba the Hutt’, which I understand is a fat deviant creature from a film called Star Wars.

For me though, Mike Ashley looks down with the captured emotions of Newcastle’s great people in his palm. more like Julius Caesar.

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Watching the game yesterday I was sure he dreams of ‘turning his thumb’ in the Colosseum.

If this really is his desire, should we just accept it and let him have a special platform built where he can be fed grapes by Lee Charnley in a loin cloth and make his pronouncements?

At this point I should declare a questioned prejudice towards him.

I was always told love and respect are the basics of all good relationships but he sneers with disdain at all the numbers below him, every player and fan simply a profit and loss statement which is performing or not.

Football results are immaterial unless his Premiership TV money is at stake which divides everyone into him and us.  The Colosseum itself is merely a flashing mind bending advertising board for his zero hours wonga style death grip. 

Love and respect relegated to the depths of his mind if they exist at all.  The guy just doesn’t have Newcastle’s best interests at heart.

When power is monopolised in a single mind it always results in the same thing, exploitation and resentment. The contempt shown is so thinly veiled everyone can see it.  The result is that Mr Carver and the team can’t play for the fans because of Caesar’s hand.

Fortunately, this council has a silver lining.

Either Newcastle go down and he agrees to sell the club, or his power, like Caesar’s, is seen as merely transitory because like all illusions they are built on sand, which when exposed are eroded with alarming speed by natural changes in the weather.

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