The loneliness of a long distance Magpie | OneFootball

Football-wise, my five years at comprehensive school in darkest Somerset was not a particularly rewarding experience.

As possibly, or should I say very probably, the only Newcastle United fan amongst hundreds of other pupils during the mid-eighties.

The oft-repeated responses from other kids on discovering my allegiance, was usually one of scorn or ridicule, good-natured in the main but still somewhat humbling.

I mean, they had a point.

Either flailing about in mid-table or fighting relegation. I mean, so much easier to be a glory-hunting follower of Liverpool, Manchester United, Everton (who were good then), Arsenal or Tottenham winning all that boring silverware.

You would seldom find anybody following a club outside that coterie, although there were scattered pockets of Bristol City or Bristol Rovers fans, two clubs that never appealed to me despite both based in the West-Country and Bristol being a county as well as a city anyway.

Yeovil? to be honest I didn’t even know they HAD a football club at that time.

Nope, I was a black and white and it often felt like a badge of defiance at times.

One day, a Geordie called Lee (I think?) was seconded to our science class and recognising his accent (I can discern Geordie or mackem) I decided to inveigle myself into his company as quickly as possible.

My science folder was plastered with Panini ‘swaps’ stickers of the team from the 1986/1987 season (not a good vintage I grant you, avoiding relegation and finishing 17th). He eventually noticed this and we subsequently got chatting about how dire we were that season.

He was also pleasantly surprised to stumble upon a fellow sufferer and this helped him settle in a bit I feel. He was intrigued as to why I followed the Magpies in this neck of the woods?

I gave him the spiel as I did on this forum in my first (but hopefully not last!) ever article, so I’m not going through it again now.

Unfortunately, he didn’t stay around long and moved back up North I think. I lost contact and continued my solitary existence preening my black and white feathers in my lonely nest, much as I am today.

My dad who indoctrinated me is thankfully still around but whether he will see them win another trophy is the question we all ask.

Hopefully that wretched monkey on the back will be frogmarched back to the jungle soon and stay there for good.

My younger brother is also a Newcastle United fan, so at least we can chew over the latest result when we meet up occasionally.

As a final aside, that saluting the solitary Magpie superstition.

I once cycled to a nearby town on my mum’s rickety bicycle and espied a lone Magpie in a tree. I thought to myself that I didn’t believe in that sort of thing and cycled on. You can guess what happened next. The brakes on the front wheel locked and yours truly went over the handlebars.

Never again would I mock forces beyond my comprehension!

Now, whenever I see a solitary magpie, I always defer to it with a salute, but these days I always walk instead.