Newcastle United Emerge From The Ashes Of The Mike Ashley Era

I think last Monday night (May 16) was incredible, given that NUFC were up against a younger squad that had something important to play for. I will argue to my dying day that what we saw was more significant than what we saw in 2011 when Pardew's squad drew Arsenal 4-4. That match was far more entertaining, and unforgettable. But this match was a glimpse of what NUFC will do when they are a good club. Were they good in 2011? I don't think so.

Monday night was a heavyweight bout, and Newcastle bruised and battered Arsenal. They bruised Martinelli. They sprained Tomiyasu. They cut Lacazette. And our Callum Wilson nearly lost a front tooth. It was a game of pain, and Newcastle outlasted Arsenal in the ring.

Know what's amazing? Monday night wasn't even the best match of the season. I think that honor goes to the 2-1 comeback win against Leicester. No, wait, the comeback win against Everton on February 8! Ryan Frasier with the winner in that one. Trippier scored the final goal on a free kick, and he would do it again against Villa the following week (and fracture his foot).

The goals against Arsenal were not pretty, but they were earned. And man, had that Wilson lob gone in, people would have been having flashbacks to 1996 and 2002 Alan Shearer. I think everyone can agree that the score could have been 4-0 Newcastle. They bossed the Gunners. I am seriously going to miss Newcastle football this summer. 75 days without seeing this squad. At least we could see 4 new signings. And soon!

A big thank you to Wor Flags. St. James' Park is looking like the best stadium in European football these days. The display and planning is impressive. Keep those flags waving.

Newcastle United: Goodbye, Premier League

 [I tried writing this post on October 5, and I failed to delay it being published before it was ready. And while Newcastle's situation has improved somewhat as of October 18, I am leaving this up. Unprofessional, sure. But this isn't a professional blog.]

I regret not posting any opinions about what was the most exciting transfer window for Newcastle United since the summer of 2012. But now I can offer a more accurate prediction of where Newcastle will end up next June: one league down, in the SkyBet Championship. Newcastle are doomed this season.

Before I give my take on the 2014-15 campaign and the objectives for 2015-16, you should read Phil's post over at I Wish I Was A Geordie. When he published his piece, I realized that he summed up over half the points I wanted to make here, and he did a better job than I would anyway. My opinion here is still that of a Yank supporter trying to criticize and analyze the club objectively, except I will try not to repeat Phil. So here goes.

In the 2013-14 season, Newcastle were saved by a leased striker, Loic Remy. He scored 14 goals while on loan. Without him, they wouldn't have the goals required to earn their 49 points and finish in a remarkable (and undeserved) 10th place. They were also helped, at times, by the likes of Davide Santon, Yojan Cabaye, Mathieu Debuchy, and Moussa Sissoko. It was also a season brought serious trust and reliability issues for their captain, Fabricio Coloccini, and an astonishing season for the other central defender, Mike Williamson. With both Taylors injured at various times, Williamson was the unlikeliest of heroes in the backfield. The club had an over-performing defender, a prolific striker, and some inconsistent, but overall good players on the wings. That earned safety and the chance for the club to make significant improvements in-between campaigns.

However, the club instead chose to blow that chance, in favor of enhancing its profit margin. There was no summer shopping spree. Instead of setting the stage to give Alan Pardew a clear chance to fix his tactical mistakes, the club undermined Pardew through the unnecessary hiring of Joe Kinnear as Director of Football. This would be the first of two similar blown chances in a short period of time (the second would come just 6 months later when manager Alan Pardew resigned). In the summer of 2014, the club needed to buy one or two central midfielders. They needed to at least consider getting a defensive midfielder to replace the injury-prone Chiek Tiote. They needed a first-team quality striker. Of those three requirements (and surely there were more), they only completed the last one - the signing of Siem De Jong. That would have helped if he wasn't injured so often. So the team relied on it's other striker signed in the summer of 2014, Ayoze Perez.

The summer of 2013 was similar. Thee were signings. But it wasn't like Pardew's first summer, when Cabaye, Obertan, Santon, and Marveaux were signed. A summer without strong signings can lead to a thin, demoralized squad when the injuries and losses pile up. Then the relegation battle begins. 

How did such a big club get here for the third season in a row? And why do I think they cannot save themselves from relegation in this third drop to the bottom? Well simply put, they should have been relegated last season, and a new manager, a new system, and new signings are all too late to save Newcastle. Steve McClaren will try to keep his club calm, but the 10 wins needed to secure safety are not coming. Goals are not coming. And this team seems doomed to concede the first goal in nearly every match.

And even when this team does score the first goal (improbable first goals to boot), they still fail to win. 

This post was written on October 5th, and at the time, Newcastle's next 6 games looked winnable, on paper. Well, so were 3 of their first 8 legaue games this season. For this reason, I am calling it: Newcastle are going to be relegated. Relegation would be devistating. It would set the club back 5 years, financially. It would mean at least another 10 years without Europe tournaments. I know how bad it would be. But a part of me knows that Newcastle would deserve it. Relegation would make the owner hold on to the team longer, but it would force players out who need to go (Tioté, Sissoko, Coloccini).

Only in retrospect, after 3 years, do we know how the club got here, even though it has been happening before our eyes since the winter of 2013. Who or what is to blame? It isn't the owner. It was never the mangers after Sir Bobby Robson. It was and is the failed transfer policy. That shouldn't be a surprise, because we heard that three-word phrase as early as the summer of 2013. Couple that with a failed summer transfer strategy, and you have a disaster. I will try to explain.

This past Summer, Newcastle signed 5 players at the cost of £52.6 Million before salaries. Of those, 3 are proving themselves to be capable of playing and succeeding in the Premier League. The rest are development players with Premier League salaries and needing at least a year to get up to Premier League fitness and strength. And still, the team needs new central defenders and a true defensive midfielder.

Manager Steve McLaren has acknowledged this. He has been upfront that he doesn't see a roster full of players he needs until February 2017. But we fans are convinced that he isn't choosing the new players. We don't think any Newcastle manager since Allerdyce has been involved in player scouting and recruitment. That work is done by chief scout, Graham Carr.

What has Newcastle done under Carr? It has "bought for value." The team has brought in promising mainland European talent, who have ended up in a few, fairly predicable scenarios. Some have proven to be capable of succeeding in the Premier League, which eventually attracts a profitable bid from a bigger club. Some players become unhappy, and see their time at Newcastle as an audition to play for a more famous club. That would be okay if they were engaged and played hard in every appearance (that's you, Moussa Sissoko). Then there are the flops. The Ben Arfas. The Marveauxs. The Cabellas. The Thauvins?

When a team brings in flops, and the best guys are sold, you are left with a second-tier team in a top-tier league. If the new arrivals don't start producing - if service to the strikers doesn't improve - and if Wjindulum and Mitrovic don't increase their goal rate, this team is going down.

Smithfield Opens In New York City

There’s no shortage of Irish pubs in New York City. As ubiquitous as pizzerias, they are easy to find. It’s finding the quality ones that takes time.  In my 17 years in New York, I’ve found a few. The Piper’s Kilt in Inwood. Several in Woodside, Queens.  The Penny Farthing on 3^rd Avenue. Ulysses in the Financial District. St. Andrews and The Long Room in midtown. Lunasa in the East Village. Slainte on the Bowery. All of those rise above the fray with above average food and drink selections.

And in the last 17 years, we’ve seen the rise of football (soccer) bars. Beginning with Nevada Smiths in 1995, and then exploding sometime around the 2002 World Cup, New York football fans have seen a renaissance of the sport’s acceptance and popularity in the USA.  We’ve also seen the rise of so-called “gastro pubs,” where the focus is on gourmet, rustic pub food, and less on televised sports. West Village establishments like The Spotted Pig and Highlands lead that segment.

Smithfield is a new pub built by veterans of this business. Partners Tom, Ken, Kieron, and Gavin have created a special place that combines elements of the football bar, traditional Irish pub and lounge, and fine restaurant into a beautifully designed and thought out package that is unique, friendly, and quite affordable.

I know Kieron from his days as a senior bartender at Nevada Smiths under Tom, the former co-owner of New York’s original football bar. After a split on the Nevada Smiths ownership, Tom began to develop plans for a football pub of his own, while also running the fine Lunasa in the East Village. Smithfield is the product of nearly two years of hard work, and I’m already a big fan.

I love the details. The use of reclaimed wood and re-use of vintage hardware and original architectural details make this place special. For example, all the bar surfaces are made from wood that is nearly 300 years old which was found in a Chelsea warehouse. The tables are made from New York water towers.

Downstairs is set up like a modern soccer bar, not unlike Amity Hall or Puck Fair downtown. Bright LED flat panel displays seem to float over a shelf taken from a Pennsylvania barn. And beneath that, the main bar, featuring massive stainless steel pipes. There are two of them, and each host ten brews on draught. Smithfield has gone the extra distance to ensure that they have a branded glass for each of the ales and lagers on tap. Details like that have made me an instant fan. Smithfield was designed with care by guys who really love their work.

Upstairs, the tone and décor changes a bit. It’s closer to a genuine Irish or English pubic house, where conversation takes precedence over televised sports. An original wood fireplace, revealed behind drywall when the space was acquired, gives the space a dash of coziness. In fact, this is only the third pub I have been to that has a fireplace (the other two being Molly’s on Third Avenue and Johnny Foley’s in San Francisco). The 300 year old bar surface is reprised in smaller form here, as there is a compact bar opposite the fireplace, as well by the windows overlooking West 28^th Street. During warm weather, the windows swing open wide – another nice touch.

Two Jameson barrels from Dublin decorate the space here along with the fireplace. Jameson whiskey is distilled in the Smithfield area of northern Dublin, hence the establishment's name. And from the second floor, a sky lit mezzanine room is visible above, which is quickly becoming the Wallace Room, named after William Wallace. Now that’s a detail a Scottish American like myself can appreciate. I envision that room as a VIP lounge, where one can sit in a big leather chair and sip whiskey. I look forward to seeing how it is used in this magnificent three-level pub.

And the food? From the four dishes I’ve had so far, it is well above the average pub grub in New York City. Executive chef, Paul Garey (of Tonic and the former Truffle on Third Avenue), is off to a strong start. The Jameson wings are sweet and spicy. The lobster mac and cheese is a good, local alternative to the buffalo mac and cheese served at other establishments (like The Penny Farthing). The burgers are high end, especially their signature burger with candied foie gras and tiny truffle shavings. It’s a perfect juicy, fatty, crispy, salty creation. And my favorite, their steak frites, is worthy of a French bistro. I’m a sucker for hangar steak, and it’s quickly my favorite hangar steak dish in town. Everything is well presented and the portions are refreshingly smaller than what I’ve seen lately in other pubs and (especially) chain restaurants.

This is one fine drinking and dining establishment, run by an exceptionally friendly staff. I hope they get a glowing review in New York Magazine or Time Out New York soon. This place deserves a bright future. So to all my friends in town, and to anyone visiting New York happening to find this review, I hope you can stop by Smithfield soon. It’s top class! 

Smithfield

215 West 28th Street (between 7th and 8th Avenue)
New York, NY 10001

+1 212-564-2172

hello@smithfieldnyc.com

Google Map

Second Place...For A Couple Of Hours

So that's what we're playing for, is it? Well Game On!

Saturday, September 29th, 07:45, Nevada Smiths. Bring the donuts, custard cremes, and your appetite for beer and carbs at the crack of dawn. Mmmmmmmmmmm.

Fog on the Tyne

I was not able to post this yesterday due to an afternoon and evening spent out with the boys on the Lower East Side. We all met-up at Nevada Smith's to watch the 5pm Fox Sports replay of Newcastle's home victory against Wigan (we all stayed away from the Internets so we did not know the result). Then I suggested we go around the corner to famed Red Sox bar, Professor Thom's, to watch the Orioles-Red Sox game. Obviously, our sports day went from great to supergreat. Amazing. And we went to celebrate at Libation, where it seems to be stuck in 1999, even though it opened in 2005. And that's a good thing.

So Saturday was great. Besides the Clay Buchholz no-hitter, Newcastle finally won at home. That's the reason I was in the Lower East Side to begin with. So I have to finally post a video I swore I would not post until Newcastle scored a home goal and won a home game this season. They had not scored a goal at home since February, in a game against Liverpool last season (which was also a game they won). The Magpies remain undefeated this season with 2 wins and 2 draws.

Now this fucked-up folk band (and they are really fucked-up) is Lindisfarne, with their #1 hit from 1971, "Fog on the Tyne." The Genesis fans among my readers will recognize the song without ever hearing it before. Today it lives-on as a Newcastle chant, and I heard it briefly sung at Nevada Smith's yesterday.

We can have a 'wee wee'? You mean sip? Gotta love the cowbell.

When I think cowbell, I think of the SNL clip with Will Farrell and Christopher Walken, which makes me think of the Red Sox because that clip was among the many rallies of Red Sox fans and writer Bill Simmons three years ago...which somehow brings me back to two things - the Red Sox and Genesis. Professor Thom's bar shows every Red Sox game, AND they have most Genesis albums on their jukebox. That makes it a winner. They have a regular yacht bell at the bar though, not a cowbell. Maybe we can change that.


The nachos at Professor Thom's. Think there's enough?

Live Blogging the Red Sox Home Opener

I finally used 'The Google' to look-up the first Red Sox game I ever watched on television. It was opening day, April 4th 1977 at Fenway Park. It was a gorgeous sunny day, and a little warmer than today. I watched the game at a friend's house, in a paneled entertainment room complete with a brown, woven plaid sofa and a bean bag chair. Boston hosted Cleveland, and lost a heartbreaker 5-4.

I distinctly remember the introduction of the team to the Fenway Faithful as voiced by Sherm Feller. I remember cheers for Jim Rice and Dewey Evans, and plenty of boos for manager Don Zimmer. And there was something about it that drew me in. It would be another 3 years before I knew the rules of baseball, but somehow I felt like this was something I could consider 'mine,' just like the fans on TV did. I had found a place where I could belong. OK, that's bullshit, but I became a fan. By 1988 I was reading Sox stats daily.

I've got time to kill before the first pitch, so I'm going to try a few tangents.

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I applied my assimilation into baseball to other sports, notably Cricket, Soccer, and auto racing. And the assimilation process was similar in some respects, as the more I learned about each sport, the more I loved it. Unlike baseball, however, I couldn't claim to have a local team or local sports hero. I was coming-in from well outside the sport's local area.

Cricket is not supposed to be part of my world. Drinking wine while eating cake, and wearing a checkered, woven dress shirt and a pink tie while sitting in a members-only grandstand is not really me. Even eating a meat pie, drinking ale, writing down stats on a scoring sheet, and reading a newspaper in the public grandstand is not really me. Celebrating Victorian colonialism is not me either. And yet, I felt that if I gave it a chance, I could find a lot to love in the sport, and I did. Since it is played year-round, Cricket has satisfied my craving for hardball sports when baseball is not in-season. And when I discovered I could see the sport in a more contemporary way, through the lens of the old colonies like Jamaica and India, I loved it even more. I can't wait to see it live again in any of the 5 continents in which it is played.

Soccer drew me in for its universal, global appeal. The nationalism, the broad appeal to girls, boys, men, and women, and the different playing styles in each region on Earth are all good. Soccer has the most fit athletes in the world, with high stamina and incredibly low body fat (compared to Cricket where a beer belly is OK). It is the first professional sport, from the nation that helped give us the industrial revolution and the modern workday. Such a new, mechanized world needed a modern form of entertainment, and since late 19th century, soccer has been it. In 1993, the English Premiership was re-organized and re-marketed, and I somehow noticed while using the pre-browser Internet. I gravitated towards Newcastle United for their history, distinctive uniforms, big stadium, drunk fans, and Geordie culture, which is like a blend of urban Scotland and hard-core industrial England. It also helped that they were not Manchester United, as I am not a bandwagoner. And since I tried hard not to be an uninformed American, the more soccer I exposed myself to, the more worldly I think I became. I'd have to go back over 200 years to find ancestors in northern Scotland or central Ireland, but I feel that English and Scottish soccer are an ethnic and cultural 'fit' for me. One of many joys is standing for 2 hours, singing songs, drinking pints, and eating meat pies, in front of a 42" plasma TV with 20 English blokes (or Scottish lads) you hardly know.

Auto racing....far more strange. It is the most expensive sport in the world, requiring obscene amounts of corporate sponsorship. Like any sport is has many rules (it actually has the most rules of any sport). It has 7 flags that mean 7 different things. It involves elements of physics like aerodynamics, downforce, torque, temperature, friction and traction. It has the whole playboy / sex fantasy culture of winning a race, getting a trophy, kissing the girl in a Lycra dress, and then spraying her with champagne (and if you're a young Mario Andretti, you take her home too). It involves travel to a different city or country every week (where each stop brings a new trailer full of girls). It is seen live by more people worldwide than any other sport, except soccer and baseball. It is particularly popular in Mexico, the USA, France, England, Germany, Italy, Australia, and Japan. But since I wanted to absorb it all, I ended up liking the kind of racing most of the world likes - road racing, with twists, turns, bumps and elevation changes.

Race car drivers are like Jedi Knights. They have superhuman reflexes. They are fearless. They only want to win. And the best ones have this aura about them, like they have the greatest job in the world, and if they were to die, they would say it was all worth it. They can't inspire more than a few people to become drivers themselves (compared to say, Arnold Palmer, who helped inspire middle class white Americans to play golf in the millions). Most come from upper-middle-class and wealthy families, and get into kart racing at an early age. Italy, Brazil, Mexico, Germany, Finland, and Spain have produced the most talented drivers in the last four decades. Despite the many egos, my favorite driver ever is the most humble, friendly, and nice guy in the sport - Jackie Stewart. He won many races. He won the F1 World Championship twice. He was gracious in many defeats. He made millions. He advocated safety and the death toll dramatically dropped ever since he retired in 1973. He got the tall blonde 40 years ago, and has remained married to Lady Helen ever since. I don't believe in role models. But I believe in Sir Jackie.

And after years of knowing the famous names and watching only the biggest races, I finally got into auto racing full-time on September 15h, 2001. Still reeling from a near-death experience, I watched the Champ Car race from Germany in which Alex Zanardi (another nice driver and quite a colorful character) lost his lower legs in a horrific crash. And instead of being frightened away, I was drawn-in. Now I can't miss a race on TV, especially if it is an open wheel race like Champ Car or Formula One.

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We've got Jeff Weaver and the Mariners visiting Josh Beckett and the Red Sox at sunny, friendly Fenway! I can't do play-by play, but I can do updates....

14:09 Josh Beckett strikes-out Ichiro Suzuki. It's on.

14:13 It's a 1-2-3 inning for Beckett. Boston's turn to bat.

14:20 Julio Lugo walks, Kevin Youkilis singles. Sox have 2 men on and no one out.

14:24 David Ortiz makes contact. It's a single. Bases are loaded. Here comes Manny Ramirez. You up against it now, Mr. Weaver.

14:27 Manny makes contact! It's a single. Lugo scores. Boston takes a 1-0 lead and the bases are loaded.

Pinch me. This is a dreamy home opener so far.

14:31 JD Drew pops it up. Sacrifice fly. Youkilis scores. Sox up 2-0.

14:34 Jason Varitek walks. Bases are loaded again. 2 out.

This is what the Sox since 1998 do best - get the opponent's pitch count really high from the start. Weaver is just missing the strike zone an awful lot, filling the counts.

14:38 Full count to Coco Crisp. 2 out. Bases loaded. And a hit! Ground-rule double. Ortiz and Lowell score. Sox up 4-0. End of the 1st.

14:47 Another 1-2-3 inning for Josh Beckett

14:51 Lugo doubles, Youkilis doubles. Sox score again. 5-nil Sox.

14:59 JD Drew homers! Youkilis scores. Sox up 7-0. End of the second inning.

15:06 First test for Josh Beckett. Two in scoring position. No one out.

15:06 Jose Lopez grounds out. Kenji Johjima scores. Mariners are on the board.

15:08 Josh Becket strikes-out Ichiro Suzuki again. Impressive.

Pitching change: Jake Woods replaces Jeff Weaver.

15:17 Dustin Pedoria walks. Jason Varitek moves to second. Here comes Lugo, and he singles. Varitek scores. Boston up 8-1. End of the third inning.

15:29 Josh Becket loves 1-2-3 innings. Sox up again.

15:34 JD Drew hits again with Manny on first. Fielding error means everyone is safe. Sox threaten again.

15:35 Mike Lowell doubles. Manny scores. JD Drew to third. Sox up 9-1.

15:36 Jason Varitek singles deep to center. JD Drew and Mike Lowell score. Sox now up 11-1. Had enough, Seattle? Who's your daddy?

We were waiting for this performance by the Sox. Their bats are alive today. They are hitting like it's 2004.

15:41 Julio Lugo is up. Two out. Coco on first. He is intentionally walked. Julio Lugo is one hot lead-off guy. He's 2-2 today. And he was just walked like he was Johnny Damon in his prime. It's up to you Youkie...

15:43 Youklis at the plate. Two out. Full count. And the inning ends with a fly out. 11 runs off of 11 hits. End of the fourth inning.

15:44 A fourth 1-2-3 inning for Josh Beckett! Just seven pitches. He's going to go 8 full innings at this pace.

Pitching change: Brandon Morrow replaces Jake Woods.

15:52 David Ortiz walks to start the bottom of the fifth. The Sox are going to score again. Mas! Mas! Deseamos más runs.

15:56 Eric Hinske walks. And here comes....Willy Mo Pena? I assume JD Drew is okay and Terry is just giving Willy a chance to hit one. Willy is intentionally walked! No wait, 3 balls and then he is hit by a pitch. Oh my. Someone is a quitter. Brandon?

15:59 Mike Lowell. Nobody out. Bases loaded. And contact! Double play ball, but Ortiz scores. Sox up 12-1.

16:02 Jason Varitek doubles! Hinske scores. Sox up 13-1. Um, they have scored in every inning of the ballgame. Sweet. End of the fifth inning.

16:10 A fifth 1-2-3 inning for Josh Beckett! Two strikeouts this frame (Suzuki and Beltre - yet again)! Only two hits given-up in the game. Can you say 'gem'?

Pitching change: Julio Mateo replaces Brandon Morrow.

16:15 Kevin Youkilis doubles. Can the Sox score in a sixth consecutive inning?

16:17 Doug Mirabelli pinch hits for David Ortiz. Smart move. He strikes out. End of the sixth inning. Sox post their first goose egg on the scoreboard today. Everyone can relax now. We got this win in the bag.

16:25 Make this a sixth 1-2-3 inning! Josh Beckett is on cruise control. This is All Star stuff today. He has eight strikeouts, and no walks. That's Pedro quality. The fans must be standing, cheering him on. One more inning, Josh.

Pitching change: Chris Reitsma replaces Julio Mateo.

16:34 Mike Lowell hits a sacrifice fly with Eric Hinske on second. Sox up 14-1.

Pitching change: Brendan Donnelly replaces Josh Beckett. Take a bow, Josh.

We're done here. The Sox have come home. Red Sox 14, Mariners 3.