Well, I did it again.
I went down to Newcastle as I did last year. In what feels like a never-ending quest to witness Newcastle United winning a game at St James’ Park.
Something that ahead of this Bayer Leverkusen game, I don’t think I’ve actually seen happen since Summer 2008; the summer before we got relegated.
I’m not a season ticket holder. And not a regular visitor to St James’s Park. I’m not a Mags+ Member. So matches like today are really the only shot I have to watch the team in the flesh. Before I went last year, it was 14 years since I’d last been to a game – the Pardew era (Google Tchoyi Stoey 3 for more information on how that went!).
Short Story: I was very pleased back in July to secure my ticket for this game. It was about the time the club was publicly chasing the signing of Johan Manzambi.
Not 30 seconds after my ticket was confirmed, it was made public that he’d chosen to sign for Aston Villa. I had hoped I might be able to watch him as he was supposed to be an exciting signing for us.
It’s part and parcel of what’s been a difficult time for the club; perhaps the trickiest and most uncertain since the Saudi takeover in 2021.
And what I really wanted from today was that I really just wanted to enjoy a football match and watch us score some goals.
In the end, what I got was mixed, to say the least. What follows is a mix of football analysis (because that’s the reason for my excursion) and an experience of one autistic person trying to go about the day.
I wrote an article on The Mag about last year’s Sela Weekender where I did something similar. My love for Newcastle United more than anything else is what got me out of the house, when, as an autistic person, it’s something that I do have to push myself to do. It was the Sela Weekender against Atletico Madrid. Before that, it was pushing myself so I could be there with the crowd for Newcastle United’s Carabao Cup trophy celebrations in the City. I also used my will to take up the chance to see the King and Queen when they visited Durham Cathedral.
Photo by The Mag
Today was a similar story. Putting my senses on the line because it was something I wanted to do. I decided today would mirror as closely as possible the routine I did last time around. Walk/ or take the Bus into Durham (I opted for the bus in the end). Take the train into Newcastle. While away an hour or two at the Discovery Museum (my go-to attraction now in Newcastle) before the match. Then, armed with my phone and the Matchday Programme, go to take my seat in the stadium and take in the atmosphere.
The first observation I’d make about the day is, given that the club is in relative turmoil at the moment, unsure about which direction is going, I was feeling quite positive and charged today. I had a very clear and positive sense; an atmosphere. A buzz. A sense of excitement and anticipation.
And that’s just waiting at Durham train station at 11 o’clock in the morning.
I don’t deny that people have concerns and worries ahead of the season. I have them too. But there’s a world of difference between that and digging yourself deeper and deeper into the social media bubble. There, everything is so angry and one-eyed. Where everything is absolute and nuance has little place.
Out here, at the train station, it felt different. It’s not so much that it doesn’t matter. Maybe some of the excited people around me at 11am on a Saturday live in the bubble too.
But out here, in what I would call the real world, there’s a match to look forward to and a club to love.
As for the match itself? I was just out to see some attacking football and witness a goal scored for Newcastle United. I haven’t had that pleasure since May 2011, and I didn’t even get that last year between the women or the men on that Sela weekender day.
Signage.
I can read signs. Honestly. And I can read departure boards. But that doesn’t mean I don’t get that unnatural and irrational feeling that I’ve made some sort of mistake. That the train I’m on isn’t the right one. Or that for some inexplicable reason, it’ll just not go where it’s supposed to.
Deep down, of course I knew it was going to be okay. But irrational thoughts don’t care about that, do they?
And so to the Discovery Museum in Newcastle. As autistic people, one thing we love is our safe spaces. Yes we do. I said it last year, and I’ll say it again: it’s a building that means a lot to me and my childhood. It’s quiet, it’s dark, it’s predictable; the sounds, the smells are familiar, and the food and drink is familiar.
Once I’d seen enough of the Story of Newcastle (which seems to be my exhibit of choice), I knew it was time for a cup of tea and a sausage roll from the cafe, believing that it would be enough to sustain me through the match till I got home.
So I got to the cafe and to the counter. During which I rehearsed what I wanted to say. Believing it would be enough to get the job done, I said “Can I have a sausage roll and a tea please?”
“Yes, sure,” said the cashier, “That’ll be £2.95, please”.
At first, it didn’t quite register what had happened; I thought she said “£10.95” (I know, right? That’s one expensive sausage roll)
But it then occurred to me that she hadn’t actually heard the sausage roll part and all I was getting (for the £2.95) was a cup of tea.
I wanted, many times, to protest the error on their part and to ask for the food. But I just couldn’t force the words out. Whether it was fear of offending the person or getting myself into a confronting situation, I just let the moment be. My problem is my brain often takes 2+2 and instead of getting 4 often gets 22. And by the time I realise what I’ve done wrong, I don’t know what to do or say to put it right.
I wanted to be at the cafe to have a drink, some food and to read a book, to while away another half hour or so, which is what I did. But that did not give me a good feeling. No blame as such toward the cafe.
But it was a slight knock to my confidence. It meant I had to find somewhere (in the many places to find food in Newcastle) to get something to eat in Newcastle before going into the Stadium. I know they serve food in the concourses, but as an autistic person, that just felt too… “unsafe”. Too many crowds.
I hoped that I would find food vans outside the stadium and I did. I found one where I could order a plain (yes I’m a “no sauce” person) Hot Dog, and that was it. I was ready, both for the match and to just be among people.
And again… I don’t know if it was just because it was a pleasant summer’s day or if there’s some recency bias going on, I just didn’t remember this much buzz and excitement before the match last year. The club also put on some decent pre match entertainment outside the ground with loud music coming from “The Knox/Stack”, stalls out from VisitMalta and a Football artist outside the East Paddock. Wonderful stuff.
There was more that I wanted to say, but it’s late, my brain has had enough, and I want to get this piece out there. I hope I’ve done enough to put my points across. What I’ve found is a good little routine here. Something that feels safe for me and works for me. But it’s still somewhat anxiety-inducing and takes so much from me. That’s why I take everything step by step, and fail at trying to stop pointlessly worrying about wayward trains.
As far as the football goes, we are way off the pace. Often don’t know where the next goal is coming from. That’s a thought I’ve had way too often for this Newcastle United team.
Photo by Jamie Smith via The Mag
It’s the result of a team that has struggled to develop properly, to grow properly and organically with the right signings when we needed them. We’ve had no choice but to watch the balance sheet as much as the team sheet. We had a disastrous end to the last campaign, and we’ve had to change.
We have decided to buy young and sell for profit, which is fine. But it means we haven’t and will not replace over £200m of talent. And it showed today.
I watched an honest team. A young team. One still looking to adapt to a new Head Coach’s methods. But one that I sense is wondering what they can achieve, compared to what they may have previously been promised. They gave it a good go. But they didn’t create enough. And Leverkusen deserved their win.
I will always try to be positive. But if we’re anywhere near the top eight this season, we’ll be beating the odds, yet again.
Still, I look forward to doing it all again next year… whatever circumstances we find ourselves in. Like last year, it’s done me in. And I don’t know if even if I had a ticket for the friendly on Sunday I’d be able to manage it. I hope we can beat Strasbourg and take a little bit of positivity to Liverpool.