Missing Trousers And A Six Goal Defeat To Blackpool – You Can’t Beat Newcastle Away Trips!
In October 1966 half a dozen of us decided to travel to watch a decent Toon side, Newcastle away to Blackpool
The team was Dave Hollins (great keeper), John Craggs (classy), Bob Moncur (legend), Frank Clark (European Cup winner with Forest), Bill Thompson (made Pearce look like a sissy), Jim Iley (quality), Alan Suddick (main Toon hero), Tommy Knox (cannot remember much about him), Albert “Ankles” Bennett, Bryan “Pop” Robson and Ron “Cass” McGarry.
So we were expecting a win against the Seasiders.
After a couple of pre-match under-age pints we set off in high spirits for the ground, which was in an even worse state than SJP, to watch our golden boy Alan Suddick rip them apart.
The vocal support among the 21,000 was certainly louder for the Toon even when the scoring was going against us (some things never change eh), though when their fourth went in I started to think erm, this is going to be harder than I thought and maybe we’ll just go for the draw.
The game finished at 0-6 as we still kept singing, “if Alan Suddick goes, so do we.”
The way our defence played you would have thought there were 11 Stanley Matthews playing in their tangerine shirts.
Incidentally Suddick was later transferred to Blackpool of all people, for the then huge sum of 60,000 quid, this was the equivalent of Supermac, Waddler, Pedro, Gazza leaving in terms of fan worship.
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When the ref thankfully blew the final whistle, the Blackpool team or fans hardly celebrated (they would now go mental if they could even field 11 players).
After the game we went to drown our sorrows and after being refused service at a canny few bars, a couple of us still probably had short trousers on, we finally found an ex-Geordies pub that would serve us.
After a few watery pints of slop the Landlord produced a crate of Dog, and as most Geordies away from home do, we pretended that we drank nowt else.
At 10.30 (closing times in those days) the four of us still standing, just managed to carry the other two (including me) out of the pub. Well, to be honest, we didn’t actually leave but were asked, no, ordered to leave.
The ex-Geordie landlord said that he was ashamed of our noisy singing, lack of ability to hold our ale, but mainly I think it didn’t help that one of the lads pi**ed himself.
I have never been back to Blackpool but if anyone ever finds a soiled pair of Levi’s there, you know there’re mine bonny lad.
We finally found our coach at 2 minutes to 12 (about 2 minutes away from where we had been drinking) and it took a lot of persuading to allow the driver to let me on in just my y-fronts (we’ve all been there).
I thought we had at least escaped the cliches and jokes about illuminations/lights going out etc but as we got off the bus at the Coast Rd Wallsend, the conductor was hanging off the back platform shouting, ” Aa divvent kna aboot Blackpool lights but tha sortainly put your bulbs oot.”
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