By Brian Hall
Thursday 24 Jan 2013 22:52:00
Browse all Brian Hall articles




Like so many others, I have felt humiliation and shame in my life. Not a nice feeling, to say the least. In personal ways, and in following a certain football club.


 In terms of the latter, I had such feelings in 1972, after we lost to Hereford in the FA Cup. At Wembley in 1974, albeit eased due to a pride in our fans' loyalty when the noise of the Geordie Nation drowned out the triumphant Scousers in that shambolic Cup Final. And obviously, I have had it since, on various occasions. Perhaps too many to dwell upon, really. And best not too, either!


But a very recent experience of those emotions for me occurred, just this month. 


 No, such were not brought upon by the situation facing Newcastle United Football Club as such. Lack of investment and foresight, Calamity Alley, and so on, are a part of being a Mag, and we can all face such. We have seen it all before.


No, I am talking about the news which struck me like a thunderbolt, when I discovered that our lack of cover in the squad had somehow led to the re-emergence of Mr Nile Ranger just after Xmas.


A man masquerading as a professional in his place of employment had somehow been restored to his workplace site. This, despite his abysmal track record in the job. Not turning up for work, turning up for work late with a bad attitude, and turning up elsewhere as a self-proclaimed Cool Dude in fast cars in his Walter Mitty world as a would-be Main Man in Town. 


As a Mag, I felt humiliated and ashamed that our club had had to stoop that low, to fill gaps in our depleted squad, by drafting in such a character to help out in our battle.


Of course, the story did not end there. I got over my own intense embarrassment that such a pillock could even possibly get a chance to wear the black and white shirt so many of us love so well.


And Mr Ranger, though I doubt if he is emotionally capable or intelligent enough to think that he has humiliated and shamed himself as a so-called professional footballer, now sits in his predestined, oh so inevitable, role. As a Lone Ranger.


 OK, young man – as Brian Clough might have said .  


 You want to behave like a prick, waste any talent you ever had, end up as a pretty pathetic third-rate gangster or whatever. So be it.




My God, you have brought a true avalanche of  shame and humiliation on yourself by attacking some of the most loyal football fans in world, yes, world, football.      Tarah, Mr Ranger.


 To say Bye, Nile, would simply be too complimentary to you.



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