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Is Mike Ashley Using The Green Fairy For Inspiration?

8 years ago

It’s been quite a while since I could muster up anything to write about Newcastle Untied (not a spelling mistake).

The World cup has been a canny distraction from the misery that is lurking around yonder corner – but the release of the fixtures has given my cage a gentle rattle.

Opening up against the Champions again, bleeding marvellous! That should lift the spirits and start the season as we mean to go on eh? Give over man FA, F O – more like.

Who in the name of Jesus and Judas will take to the field representing the famous black and whites?

Your guess is as good as mine, and probably better than Alan Pardew’s!

While as fans of England we cogitate the whys and wherefores of Wayne ‘The Missing Link’ Rooney’s worth in the England starting XI, or what formation to get the best out of Sturridge, Lallana and Sterling  – as NUFC fans our ponderings are a little more worrisome!

I wish our problems and permutations were the same as Woy’s headache!!

The diligent team in charge of our team and club’s future – seem to plan about as far ahead as the next ten minutes. Or at least however long it takes Ashley to neck his next shot of Absinthe.

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Absinthe was apparently what Vincent Van Gough, or V.V.G as he was affectionately known at the time, was boozing when he lobbed his own lug off. Smashing idea at the time no doubt.

Mike Ashley is full of smashing ideas. The hallucinogenic tipple known as ‘The Green Fairy’ is probably the only explanation I can come up with to explain Old Tubby butt’s bizarre decision making thus far.

The black and white fun bus is running out of diesel and we are about to conk out in the football fast lane. As sure as eggs is eggs – it’s coming.

The squad has some good players. A few maybe, well definitely a couple. But they played their part in a woeful 2014 that was about as fun as licking a hornets’ nest with a mouth full of sugar cubes.

Somehow we managed to get away with it. Just as we had gotten away with it the season before. Aye we finished tenth – whoop de doop – but it wasn’t in a blaze of glory was it? We were falling faster than Felix Baumgardner without his rucksack on!

Mr Pardew is at the helm still, somehow. He is charged with steering the (Premier) ship to mid-table waters once more – those are the orders from above. The chances of getting there (or God forbid the exotic shores of a Europe) without sinking– are dwindling by the minute.

Is he the right man to get the ramshackle squad he has, moving forward? Unlikely.

Pardew, had he been the Cox in Sirs Pinsent and Redgrave’s boat, would have had the buggers rowing the wrong way – based on recent seasons’ bewildering tactics and remarks.

The club though back their stooge, I mean puppet, sorry my mistake, I mean manager. And by club I mean you know who …(spits on floor).

Pardew is struggling with the hand he has been dealt already. That’s obvious. He is refusing to use some of his aces correctly and is looking to bolster again with workers, rather than as what he sees as ‘shirkers’.

If that’s the plan, and he is Mike’s man – then he needs to be backed. We have signed two players, one who has only been seen on Internet video clips, the other a hard grafting versatile midfielder who scores hardly any goals (he should fit in with our lot then!) – not exactly screaming out that the potholes of last season’s bumpy road are going to be patched.

We seriously need goals, and we need players to make those goals. A few words to be trumpeted over the walls of Chateau (Gateaux) Ashley would be that , believe it or not, some players will actually cost more than zero – and in some cases even more than £6 million. Watch your heart Mikey boy. The quality we need is not going to be found sellotaped together 2 for 1 in some mystery bargain Euro Warehouse in Calais.

No selling club is taking us seriously at the minute – and who can blame them when we go in offering a packet of Hob Nobs and an old copy of Razzle – for their star players!

You can play the market for bargains, aye fine – but not everyone. Actions speak louder than words, we hear plenty of bovine excrement on a daily basis, enough is enough. The spectre of Jim White frothing at the mouth looms large. The spectre of putting out a threadbare team against the current Champions of England looms even larger.

Boys – sort your act out. Now.

Keep smiling.

You can follow Jamie on Twitter @JamieSwan1


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