The events of the last couple of weeks still leave me dumbfounded and I feel unable to deal with the emotion of it all. I’ve been mostly numb.
This doesn’t happen to us and you have to be a certain age to remember how winning a trophy feels and even John Anderson agreed with me on the radio the other day!
After the match at Wembley, my wife said that I seemed really drunk. I hadn’t touched a drop because I had to drive home afterwards, but all I could do was shout, “HOWAY” to everyone I saw.
Saturday’s parade was the icing on the cake and I’m still struggling to put my feelings into words.
I first met my mate, Bob, in August 1993, when we were sat next to each other in the new Leazes End and we’ve been good friends ever since. Bob sent me this poem and I think it sums up how I and many other fans feel. I’m honoured that he used one of my lines from ‘We Are The Geordies’, as well.
That’s enough from me. Over to Bob!
Gannin alang the Scotswood Road to see the Blaydon Races.
Born a hefty goal kick from the ground,
osmotically I absorbed the sound
of anthem in the womb. A boy given
at seven, I’m their man – forever smitten
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Back in the fifties (those times of euphoria)
Newcastle ruled Wembley – sic transit gloria.
Dad filled my dreams with stories
of all the former F.A. Cup glories.
Milburn – Mitchell – Harvey.
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And in ’62 I wore my knitted scarf,
as turnstiles clicked at my first game.
I learned to read the scoreboard at half
time and Gallowgate corner’s ten minute flag,
join the throw-catch of peanuts, tanner a bag.
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Beating Bolton to clinch promotion in ’65.
I wobbled on Dad’s shoulder joyously alive;
cheered our Fairs’ Cup adventurers of ’69
on their victorious return back to the Tyne.
Moncur – Robson – Davies.
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Over the years I’ve seen many stinkers;
pulsating thrillers with last minute winners,
‘The Entertainers’ lose a twelve point lead
to Man United ( deep cuts still bleed.)
Beardsley – Ferdinand – Lee
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Sometimes in my mind I replay match highlights.
Leading Barcelona two-nil under floodlights,
Gillespie crosses, Tino soars, heads, SCORES!
The team hangs on as tumultuous roars
of Blaydon Races explode in the night.
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Keegan, Robson, Shearer moved Geordie souls,
but Sports Direct’s tenure saw only own goals.
Our prayers answered – the takeover done,
truly United – we dream what can be won?
It doesn’t really matter…But it does.
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It’s our day at last – after decades of pain
the cup’s held aloft with Toon ribbons again.
Time to forget those Wembley zeroes,
let’s salute Eddie’s legendary heroes.
Bruno – Isak – Burn
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Gannin alang the Scotswood Road to see the Blaydon Races.
‘Roo-ad’ is prolonged with triumphant glee.
Let the anthem echo around the ground,
the stands shake, our proud hearts pound.
I’m part of the crowd, the crowd part of me.
By Bob Rayner
Here’s to the next one and I don’t think we’ll have to wait another 70 years.