Ronaldo is in his seat surrounded by Kenny and his pensioner wife, who is twerking | OneFootball

After a few health issues in recent years, it’s safe to say that my idea of a holiday does not involve Ibiza night clubs or a pirate ship around Ayia Napa.

These days, it’s more a Marigold hotel that appeals to me.

Hence this week’s break at the hotel for the dead in Portugal.

I guess you would think that watching the match against Manchester United v Newcastle United match in this hotel bar would have been a very sedate affair. More like Durham cricket than Idols in the 1990s.

Well you would be wrong about that. I was about to have a very surreal experience.

Why don’t I introduce you to the room.

Top Boy

Every holiday bar has one and every cliche going applies to this fella.

He is about 60, faded Irons tattoo, strutting around as if he was still a 1980s West Ham main man. These days he is just top heavy and hasn’t seen his feet in a while.

I note his wife is elsewhere in the hotel, having decided to watch the Abba tribute act.

He says he is supporting neither side because “he no longer has any skin in the game”,, but I do hear him add that he’d prefer Newcastle to win, as they always reminded him of West ham.

“That’s before they sold their soul for Saudi money, of course.”

The Yorkshire foursome

Two couples hitting retirement from somewhere around Barnsley.

When I say they are a fouresome, I mean that socially and not in the touchy feely sense. Although these days, who knows.

After the third round of cocktails, Barbara, or Babs as the room has now come to know her as, is becoming extremely chatty. However, telling the waiter “if I were 20 years younger” is clearly not appreciated by her old man.

These are very pro Newcastle.

Their age makes them miners strike generation and they have an affection toward myself and to the next table, who are:

The Geordies

I honestly didn’t think there were any in the hotel but I was wrong.

There are seven crammed around a table. Four lads three lasses.

I make the effort to find out where they are from. Turns out it’s Ashington, Whickham, Hexham and the lad whose wife has not joined the group and is reading her book in the lobby, is from Low Fell.

I’m guessing the combined age of the four lads is over 260 but there is plenty life left in them. Especially when the game gets going.

These respectable guys are going back 50 years as every minute passes.

The Irish couple

These are two Liverpool supporters from Dublin. Obviously supporting Newcastle tonight.

They stand out a mile because they are in their 20s.

I’m not sure why they chose this hotel and in a couple of hours time, neither would they.

Then there are the “Mancs”

There are three other tables which are occupied. All shouting for “United”…

Two are quiet lads but one is frequented by a fella in his Man Utd top. For the love of Ada, what are you doing Mr “Ronaldo 7” ? It now is riding way above his belly button and it’s not a flattering look.

There may be a place for pensioners to wear colours but I’m not sure that it’s in here.

Finally, there are the staff.

The two lads have arranged to cover the TV lounge tonight, leaving the others to look after the Abba crowd. They are obviously Man Utd fans because they are Portuguese.

Once the game kicks off, Babs starts to lose interest. She tries to engage the Geordie table in a conversation about the 18 month waiting list for her sister Susan’s dodgy hip, but Kenny from Hexham, politely asks her to shut up, so he can hear the telly.

They score and the mood changes a little. Ronaldo makes a few comments, which our lads let go, but there is now an atmosphere.

Gordon equalises and it’s game on.

Then we are behind again and Ronaldo can’t help himself. He comes out with “you lot will never win anything if you live to be 100.”

Kenny is not a happy man.

The third goal is a real sickner and when our Manc friend shouts “unlucky lads, try again next year”, Kenny is out of his chair and over to Ronaldo’s table.

We now have the bizarre sight of West Ham’s old top boy acting as peacemaker between the two of them.

The other two Man Utd fans read the room and decide to call it a day. After all, its gone nine o’clock and it has been a long day.

The rest of the game is played out in simmering tension, but when Lewis Hall scores, pandemonium. Well, as much as people in their sixties can do pandemonium.

Ronaldo is in his seat surrounded by Kenny and his wife, who are dancing and gesturing.

Kenny’s wife is twerking.

Granted, it’s not a Beyonce standard twerk, but a twerk none the less.

I will regret till my dying day not taking pictures.

Forget swimming with dolphins or sky diving, if you haven’t seen a drunk Geordie pensioner shake their backside in the face of a drunk Mancunian pensioner, you have not lived.

At the end of the game, Ronaldo wisely decides to leave without comment, but as he goes out the door, Kenny shouts after him “if I see you in that shirt tomorrow, yer gannin in the pool.”

This has been a night to remember.

I guess old Geordies never die, they just go to a hotel for the dead and start a fight.

I have heard that Kenny and his wife may be the first people ever to be banned from returning here.