By Billy the Dog McGraw.
This weekend we shall see the new formation – at least that is my prediction. In a second and a half I shall give you the low-down and upside down on the Castle of Neu but first, look at this…
Sagna, Squillaci, Koscielny, Clichy
Yes it is the launch at lunch of the 4-2-2-2, and remember you read it here first, second, third and fourth (because I know you like to read my remarkable essays on the culture of ball and foot at least four times.
Now, onto the stuff….
New Kastle is a diminutive kingdom off the north eastern coast of England, known mainly as the land that has no language – although this assertion has been challenged by some doctoral theses over the years.
On the one hand there are those who believe that the strange grunts and sounds that the locals make do have some sort of meaning and that shouts such as “Awaaythlards” actually means, “I’m off to the chippie to get a nourishing supper”. Others however deny this.
New Kastle’s monarchy is one of the most interesting of all the small time kingdoms that surround England. The first to take the crown was King Cox (or “Coxy” as footballers sometimes called him) who managed to take Newcastle from the Discount Duvet Third Division North into the first division.
Then the kings came thick at fast. King Beardsley the Wallsend, King Chrissy the Waddle (who even though he played for the Tinies, was a most amazing player I must admit), and then the man still worshipped (if those grunts really can create worship), King Kev the Eccentric.
Sometimes the little land to the north even had two or three kings at the same time – which caused much amusement. Big King Jack, and King Gazza the Wayward are other names from the time.
For a little while the Newcastleonians decided to try and make their names as humorists, and appointed the amazingly droll (if not incomprehensible) King Osvaldo Ardiles to work under Emperor Sirjun Hall (who often amusingly claimed that his first name was actually a recognition of him having a knighthood – oh how we laughed).
King Os won the hearts and souls of these funny northern folk by winning two second division games (against Portsmouth from the distant south, and Leicester from the Empire of Mercia). An own goal in the last minute did the trick for King Os.
Then on 4 May 1993 they beat Grimsby and the little kingdom went wild and King Kev was named the Now and Eternal Lord of All the Kingdom. It is rumoured that King Kev then emptied the treasure trove of the kingdom and paid Sky TV three shillings and threepence if they would call Newcastle “The Entertainers”. Making a loss at the time Sky agreed.
King Kev, a close friend of the Evil ArchDuke Thatcher who had stolen power in the south, decided that naming things was good and named one of his defeats the “Match of the Decade”. Oh how we laughed.
But Kings in the north don’t last long, so King Kev the Eccentric got ready to hand over to King Shearer, and in doing this persuaded the BBC’s Match of the Day programme to create a new irregular verb in honour of the occasion. The verb was “to donegreat”, and Match of the Day commentators and the gibberish merchants who supported them were instructed to say the verb at each opportunity.
Outside TV Centre in Shepherd’s Bush one could hear the classes roll on day and night and the time would chant in unison the declension of the verb…
- I done great
- You done great
- The boy Shearer done great
- We done great
- You done great
- The boy Shearer done great again this week.
(Later more complex tenses were added such as the past perfect conditional which in the third person singular declaimed, “The boy Shearer would have done great if he had been playing up to his normal standard”).
In 1997 Newcastle issued a Tiny Tott style trophy for beating Manchester Untidy at King Kev the Eccentric Recreation Ground where they played.
King Kev abdicated in January 1997 and King Kenny was named as next in line to the throne, but he proved to be a poor king but showing their great sense of humour that the north is known for they then had King Ruud who wasn’t a Northumbrian Prince at all!
So Emperor Shepherd saw a load a muck and quickly jumped into it, and taught King Ruud how to say “The boy Shearer done great”.
It all looked dead and buried for the kingdom but then up popped King Bobby the Ancient who didn’t seem to mind working under a creep like Emperor Shepherd. King Ancient declared that all games would be played on a Wednesday and he would win them all 8-0, and he did, at least for the first game (which was played on a saturday, but against The Wednesday, so that was considered a Good Omen.)
At first King Bobby did not allow the club to play in Europe because he didn’t believe anything existed beyond the Viking lands of Suffolk, but Sky got another 25p to ensure they kept calling Newcastle “The Entertainers”. But it all came to nothing and the Old Man of the Sea wended his way.
The Emperor then decided that life had been such a laugh under King Ossie that it would be fun time all the time, and the peasants were instructed to laugh and laugh as the Emperor announced the new King – King Souness the Incompetent.
Oh how we laughed.
King Sou the Ink decided to give someone £17m for Michael Owen, and everyone laughed, but the Emperor was not pleased, and so King Glenn was appointed but he had the problem that no one had heard of him, so no one noticed.
“What we need,” called the Emperor to the people who may or may not have understood depending on your view as to whether they have language or not, “is a Slug. Not just any slug, but a big flat useless slug.”
So they appointed King Sam the Slug. The Emperor Shepherd then sold his empire to Emperor Ashley and laughed all the way to the bonk. Sorry bank.
Then amazingly King Kev the Eccentric proved that he was still alive (no one knew), and he returned as King Kev the even more eccentric. But he brought in a person of diminutive stature from outside the Empire and made him ArchDuke Wise the Wise, and people were unhappy.
For the Archduke really was very little and no one liked him.
King Kev II then argued with the Emperor and King Kev II left saying that the Emperor had stolen his clothes. No one was surprised.
The Managing Director Derek Llambias was warned by the League Managers Association for having a silly name. King Kev II claimed breach of kingship. The Emperor said he was abdicating. It was a Fine Mess.
The Emperor then appoint King Joe the Fucking Fucker who promised (and delivered on his promise) to say the word “fuck” more times in a single press conference than anyone had ever done before. At the end of the conference he said, “Fuck it, I’m fucking fucked.” How we cheered. (In case you think I have just lost it and want to read the full report of that most famous of press conferences it was reprinted in Untold – here’s the link).
The Emperor knew everyone was confused and so he decided to adopt the language of the south. If “The boy Shearer done great” he could “done great” again, so the boy became King Alan the Inept, winning only one game.
With the club up for sale the Emperor appointed King Chris II, and he’s still on the throne and has Joey Barton as head of its SS unit.
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