Welcome back to another monthly article reflecting on all things Newcastle United.
August’s article was entitled The phoney war. It was about the lull before hostilities began at the start of the season.
Now we’re into September and the new season is bright and beautiful. So far.
At primary school, back in the mists of another millennium, we sang “All Things Bright and Beautiful”. You know the one. A banger. Cheery and uplifting stuff about the wonders of nature. One of the few songs that we didn’t have alternative words for, like the Christmas one about shepherds doing their laundry.
We sang “All Things Bright and Beautiful” in September, at the time of the harvest festival, when we were encouraged to bring in donations of food, which were displayed at the front of the hall for an assembly in the morning.
In the afternoon, we were sent off early in pairs to deliver food parcels to local elderly folk in need. It was a sort of mobile food bank, staffed by child conscripts. A well-meaning but strange idea by modern standards. Nowadays, I doubt they’d send primary school kids off to knock on the doors of strangers, then roam unsupervised for the rest of the afternoon. Safeguarding and all that.
Different times. As we were singing our little hearts out in assembly, Joe Harvey was Newcastle United manager. Supermac was bustling past defenders in hooped socks at 3 pm on a Saturday. Iam McFaul hadn’t identified as Willie. Hallelujah John Tudor. Bukta kit. Daft lads up the floodlights. We got smacked three-nowt off Liverpool in the FA cup final around that time. Kevin Keegan bagged a brace in red. I remember a politically incorrect song directed at our future messiah by Toon fans, to the tune of another hymn, “Michael Row The Boat Ashore”. This charming terrace ditty had just one line, phrased as a question, then repeated. Wilfully offensive, but easy enough for the young ‘uns to pick up. Other mysterious songs took longer to learn. Like the one we all know that involves a nineteenth-century bus exceeding its limit of passengers.
Like I say, different times. Less enlightened. Apologies to younger readers for my addled ramblings. Enough of the dubious nostalgia. Now for all things bright and beautiful for Newcastle United in September 2026.
All things bright:
Matthias Jaissle’s a bright boy, isn’t he? In his short tenure so far, he’s demonstrated it. Does his homework. Gets a good team around him. Communicates his ideas clearly.
Example 1: On the limited evidence so far, he reads the game well and is unafraid to make tactical tweaks, shuffling his deck to get the right players in the right places at the right time. Substitutions against Liverpool and Spurs support it.
Example 2: Jaissle’s reply to a question from a journalist who asked if he thought Nick Woltemade’s problems were psychological. Jaissle’s answer: “I don’t know, I’m not a psychologist.” Put that in your drum and bang it, son. Next question please.
One thing you’ll have noticed about bright managers is that they have to work with some players who aren’t as bright and can’t take in the meticulous tactical instructions. Take Grealish, for example. He’s got abundant talent, and maybe he’s a canny enough lad, the apple of his Mammy’s eye. But I don’t think he had the cognitive kit to understand the Pep talk. I reckon his brain was so full of hair gel, flattering camera angles and little shin pads, he couldn’t process and follow the instructions in the way Guardiola wanted. Off he went to Everton or somewhere. Good enough player, not that bright.
Or how about our own Mad Mitro? We loved our Serbian psycho striker, the more so because we didn’t have many players to love at that time. But there’s a photo you’ll remember: an earnest Rafa, hands on Mitro’s shoulder, giving him detailed directions. Meanwhile, Mitro’s eyes are rolling, dreaming of his next six-gun knee slide goal celebration. Mitro wasn’t the brightest bunny and Rafa’s wise words were wasted.
Thankfully, we seem to be recruiting lads bright enough to understand Jaissle’s instructions and put them into practice. Bright lads like Dedic and Nico get it. Brains in their heads and their boots.
We need our bright players. Big Dan Burn is a bright bloke. He grasps the tactical guidance and he’s able to put it into practice, directing and encouraging others. He anticipates the play as it unfolds. The first two yards are in your head, as they say. Just don’t play him at LB, please, Herr Jaissle. Speaking of which, Lewis Hall is a bright lad, with brains to match his skill and determination. I’m sure you can think of others.
Wissa’s balletic scoop for 2-0 against the North London lovelies. Beautiful. Roberto, here’s an idea, why not go out and spend a shedload of other people’s money on overrated players? Get them to slip you a few quid for a proper haircut while they’re on. The Sonic the Hedgehog/Steve McClaren style is a strong look, but it’s not a good one. Let me know who cut it last time, I’ll go round and sort them out for you. You’ll need a decent haircut to impress the Greek gadgie at Forest. He’ll probably be looking for another new manager by the end of this month when you get your P45.
Schadenfreude is beautiful too. Isak on his backside, bleating to an unsympathetic ref. Beautiful.
Anthony Elanga swivelling away from a bewildered Sandro Tonali to put us one up against the not-so-hotspurs. Beautiful. Hard lines, Sandro son. Don’t put that on your highlights reel when you get found out and have to take a pay cut to sly off back to Italy.
Here’s to all things bright and beautiful!