Newcastle United – A Boy Can Still Dream
When I was a kid I used to imagine what it would be like for Newcastle to one day win a trophy. Something that I’m sure all of us born too late to witness Bobby Moncur holding aloft the Fairs Cup can relate to.
I was a keen artist in my youth and would handcraft imagined scenes of Glenn Roeder holding the UEFA cup, or Paul Goddard scoring a winner in the FA Cup final against Liverpool.
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Later, when the idea of winning either of these trophies became a tangible thing, I didn’t doodle Bazza Venison doing a jig with the League Cup under his arm, but such fantasies remained.
I would often muse on what it would be like, who would be the fabled eleven to achieve this? Who would be their messianic leader in the dugout? Would it be the current crop? Or was there a saviour waiting somewhere in the wings, unaware that one day he would be responsible for the biggest collective climax since internet porn was invented.
I watched as one after another, famous trophy-less giants in the sporting world broke their respective hoodoos… Schalke, Citeh, the Boston Red Sox, all did the business and made them breakfast in the morning. Did the knowledge that it could be done renew my faith that we too would soon join them in their post-trophy afterglow?
Although an optimist, the answer would have to be…
‘Did it f***!’
So what relevance does this have to the current ever-stormy climate at the Toon? Our annual third round debacle is over a month behind us, but as many of us are unwilling to acknowledge, our soap-shy neighbours are currently closer to touching silver than we have been for 15 years.
Will they achieve it?
Highly unlikely, but as has been seen only last year in May, stranger things have happened.
On a personal note, as much as the idea of the Mackems gaining a further bragging rights stranglehold makes me a little queasy, the fact the final takes place on my (Toon mad) mate’s birthday, gives it a dark comedic edge if they do manage the unthinkable.
So what now? And where is all this leading to? Do I still envision Champions League showdowns of the future where Adam Armstrong scores a hat-trick in the last minute against Barca?
Nope. Those thoughts are gone.
I’m still a dreamer, and I still speculate/fantasise about the Toon’s future, but instead of willing and praying that 45 years of failure will come to an abrupt end, I only have one Toon related future fantasy now.
It doesn’t involve trophies, or finals, or inspirational signings… It doesn’t involve a Geordie wonderkid becoming the best player in the world…
It involves one man signing a piece of paper, and taking a Littlewoods style cheque for £300 million + big ones.
I think I’ll get my felt tips out – a boy can still dream.
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