The Norwegian Headmaster, chasing Newcastle United tickets and paying twice face value | OneFootball

I have written recently about the difficulty in getting hold of Newcastle United tickets, as have other fans/contributors to The Mag.

However, this is not entirely a new experience for me.

Back in the mid-nineties and ticketless, I went down to White City tube station ahead of our away match against QPR.

As people left the station heading to Loftus Road, I was asking if there were any spare tickets. Many of you will recognise the scene, dodgy geezer (me) asking for tickets as people leave the tube station.

A tall well-appointed friendly man stops with his wife and son, then declares in perfect English “yes we have a spare ticket.”

“How much?” being my reply.

He wants twice the face value. Aahh! I pay up out of desperation.

Ticket in the main stand proudly clutched, I chat with the guy who has come over from Norway as we walk towards the ground.

Turns out he is the Headteacher of a High School in Bergen and as we walk past it, I point out the school where I was then a teacher. Formerly Hammersmith Secondary School, with illuminati of Les Feredinand and Dennis Wise I was reliably informed.

However, it is now called the Phoenix High School, as the kids had tried to burn it down. This is the age of the “Super Head” and Sir William Atkinson had been appointed to turn the worst school in the country (according to the Sun and Mail) around.

It is then goodbye Norwegian Headteacher as I head into a boozer on Bloemfontein Road (General Smuts maybe? It was a long time ago now), half expecting to see the parents of the kids from the Estate.

Instead, I bump into lads from Gossy and one guy in particular, my sister’s ex and owner of the biggest flag that went down to Exeter (4-0 NUFC defeat!), as well as being the biggest Clash fan ever.

A good few beers later I am up in the main stand and the expensive ticket means I am really close to the Newcastle fans, even though surrounded by Rangers lads. The place is rocking.

I can see the Gossy lads below me to the right. So close they spot me and acknowledge me.

The locals around me ask if I have come for a fight, as I am passionately displaying my support for the team. What me? Sat with a Norwegian family in the main stand who are loving it. There was an energy at that time and I was buzzing.

A couple of weeks after that game and having finished work for the day, I was walking back to White City Tube station to go home.

There is a floodlit astroturf pitch near to QPR’s stadium on South Africa Road. Just behind it was the Blue Peter Gardens. The Headteacher I worked for used to have a megaphone so he could control the rabble (kids), or so he thought.

Well these White City Estate youngsters on the astroturf spotted me on my way home and decided to use the megaphone they had stolen earlier that day… “McPeake you’re a wan…, McPeake you’re a wan…” boomed out.

I laughed and waved acknowledgement to them and their wit.

Couple of years ago, by chance I bumped into the same White City lads and turns out they are top blokes now.