So, here we go again. The Premier League. Flip! How did that happen? While most fans are still bruised and bloodied from a long summer pinching ourselves, the magician / messiah Neil Warnock (peace be upon him) has been busy attempting to turn the sow’s ear of a Championship squad into a silk purse, without conviction or resources. Mr Tan’s stubby fingers, severely singed last time out have remained resolutely in his deep pockets, occasionally offering up loose change while his manager’s contemporaries have been the joyful beneficiaries of their owners’ reckless largesse.
Our plight has much in common with the travelling Geordies as Mike Ashley, distracted by his acquisition of The House of Frazer prioritises the challenge of breathing life into a high street monolith in preference to reviving a moribund midfield; the sainted Rafa Benitez directed to the pick n mix while Ashley opts for a high end ego massage as the self-appointed saviour of the High Street. The Magpie fans have every right to ask ‘Are we being served?’
40 years ago this week I collected my A level results, which amounted to two half-decent passes and one indecent total flunk. Studying our team sheet today reminded me of turning over my Economics paper - the lack of preparation, attention to detail, investment of time and resources inducing a visceral sense of panic and hopelessness such that I seriously contemplated making my excuses and leaving.
Without wishing to be overly pessimistic, it’s difficult to argue with the on-line betting companies who are offering odds on our survival similar to that of a cat in hell and a snowflake in the Sahara.
So. The hour dawns, the band strikes up a tub-thumper and the gladiators emerge into the light, our team embracing the new era with their blue blue chests pumped out imploring the international audience to ‘Visit Malaysia’. Our opponents display this season’s chosen badge of dishonour on their striped shirts of shame, Asian betting agency Fun ’88, their most recent partner in the exploitation of the vulnerable (replacing pay-day penury peddlers Wonga) as Newcastle continues its unenviable reputation as propagandists for reverse wealth distribution.
A crowd of 30,720 rise as one to herald the new season and embrace all possibilities with unbridled enthusiasm. The whistle blows. And. The atmosphere is killed as we dutifully take our seats, perched in plastic passivity. Please see: https://news.sky.com/story/labour-back-safe-standing-at-english-football-league-stadiums-11398307
We make a confident start, showing few signs of nerves. The backbone of the team is familiar - the reliable Etheridge ably supported by an efficient back four. Manga playing at right back is a weakness for me and I think as the season evolves he’ll be found out, lacking the pace and guile to match the trickery and speed of some world class left wingers and wing backs. Peltier is the preferred alternative.
The midfield is a revelation, Harry Arter providing the experience and linking well with new boy Josh Murphy who looks very comfortable at this level, giving the Magpies’ right back Javier Manquillo a torrid time and forcing an early booking. Manquillo’s second half replacement Hayden lasts 20 minutes before frustration gets the better of him as he sees red following a frustrated studs-high lunge at Murphy. Loanee Camasara is influential on the right and looks the Real (Betis) deal.
So far so good. But. It’s Cardiff butt. There’s always a but. Our ability to influence matters from midfield and pose a real threat from either flank was negated by a total failure to deliver the coup de gras from inside the box. During the long summer months management somehow neglected to address the one area that we all knew required attention. Warnock had spent £6m at the back end of last season on the misfiring Madine, stubbornly claiming that he was one of the best signings of the campaign despite not registering a single goal. During the close season the coaching staff issued him with a banjo with instructions to find a barn door. He’s still looking. Which leaves us with Kenneth Zahore as the main man.
I like our young Dane. But he really needs to hit the target with more frequency, Kenneth. His progress under Warnock has been spectacular but he’s very much a confidence player and it’s far from certain that he’s going to be capable of making further progress. We’ve had a few strikers in recent years - Earnie, Chopra, Bothroyd, who’ve excelled in the second tier but failed to make the grade at a higher level. Given a bigger stage today Kenneth fluffed his lines, failing to convert any of the three chances that a natural leading man would have executed with aplomb. The transfer window has now passed and given Warnock’s fondness for the long ball game the lack of a credible target man is a major concern.
There are probably three mini leagues within the PL. Newcastle are a middling team, neither contenders for a European slot or likely whipping boys, so a creditable performance and a well deserved point rescued by the Etheridge stoppage time penalty save gives reasonable grounds for hope that the very limited but realistic aim of survival is within our gift. While wins may be as rare as a Boris Johnson apology and the route as viable as a Brexit roadmap we’ll do our best to enjoy the journey, if not the destination.
