A Very North-Eastern Easter

I'm suffering from a cold, or a flu, or, I don't know, malaria or something.  Whatever it is has reduced me to placing my head face down on my desk (because even though I am clearly at death's door I struggled aboard the 8:47 from Levenshulme and in to work anyway, damn this work ethic) and I have spent the first hour of the day emitting a series of low groans, in between taking sips of health-giving rooibos tea (which didn't seem to make any difference) and large gulps of 'number 53', the glucky brown mixture that passes for tea from the office vending machine (which seems to have perked me up no end).  So now I am in fine shape to tell you all about a fine and very Eastery Easter spent in the North East of England.

We arrived in Blaydon on Saturday afternoon and I immediately kidnapped my dad (who I think had been planning a quiet afternoon in watching the scores coming in on Ceefax and playing at matchbox cars with his grandson) and swept him off to a rickety old Northern League ground in the shadows of the Exclesior Social Club (where a young Newcastle United apprentice named Paul Gascoigne used to hang out with his mate Jimmy Five-Bellies) to watch Dunston Federation FC versus Ashington.  A notice at the gate warned 'to avoid embarrassment, please have season books or admission money ready'.  Mindful of that incident with the bike at Flixton I readily handed over the necessary (£3.50 for me, and, on account of his pensionable status, £2.00 for me dad), and, in a further effort to endear myself to the non-league curmudgeon manning the clickety turnstile, an extra couple of quid for a shiny lapel badge bearing the club crest.

As the teams were announced over the crackling tannoy system it seemed that, in an echo of the 'mind games' beloved of elite Premiership managers,  the coaches of Dunston and Ashington were seeking to gain the psychological upper-hand by including as many honest-to-goodness North-Eastern names as possible in their respective line-ups.  The vistors fielded a Clarke, a Timmons, a Bolton, an Atkinson, and, crucially, a Spratt- to which the hosts responded with a Scott, two Robsons, a Pickering and a Laws.  'There'll be an Armstrong along in a minute', I said.  'Number nine, Jimmy Armstrong', replied the tannoy, right on cue.

As the match got underway a bloke sidled up to us.  It was the Dunston website match report guy, who it turns out me dad knows from down the pub.  'Watch out for young Armstrong', he said.  'We've had scouts down looking at him- Lincoln, the lot'.  At that moment the young number nine ghosted stealthily past a pair of lunging tackles before squaring low for Laws to open the scoring with a tap-in.  We imagined the scout from Lincoln nodding appreciatively to himself, before taking a pencil from behind the rim of his trilby and scribbling hurried notes.

But as the second-half wore on, the target of the talent scouts began to fluff his lines, blazing one good chance over into the car park, and scuffing another wide.  With the scout from Lincoln no doubt half-way back down the A1, adjusting his trilby to protect againt the glaring afternoon sun and bemoaning another wasted afternoon in the wilds of County Durham, the visitors (backed by a sixty-strong contingent, many in fancy-dress) rallied, and it was no surprise when, after an almighty goalmouth scramble, Bolton prodded home an equaliser.  The travelling Northumbrians celebrated in style, and for a brief few moments we were treated to the glorious sight of a six-foot three Easter bunny cavorting along the touchline in front of the main stand. 

The festivities continued into Sunday, with the latest instalment of the weekend's central event- Uncle Johnny's (that's me dad to you) Easter Egg painting competition.  Again I played the Katie Boyle role, gathering in the scores and marking them on a giant Eurovision cardboard scoreboard.  With all the votes in, my entry 'Manchester Disunited'- a likeness of Malcolm Glazer, complete with ginger beard, ill-fitting trousers and tiny one-dollar bill- had amassed a total of two votes, while the spectacular e-mailed overseas entries from John and Abby had garnered a paltry half-dozen between them.  On opposite sides of the Atlantic we sat seething impotently at our fate, while my 10-year old cousin Elizabeth scooped the awards with an egg decorated as a fluffy yellow chicken.  She shall be hearing from our lawyers.

Monday was even more festive still, featuring the ancient Northumbrian traditon of rolling hard-boiled eggs down a hill, which I had always taken to be something my mam had made up- until we saw a family of oversized Geordies joining us in this strange pastime atop an incline in Heaton Park.  Me mam discussed egg-preparation techniques with the head of their party:

'What, did you boil them in vinegar?'

'Nah, they're just from the Co-op, man.  Left them in the pan overnight with a bit of salt- hardens the shells, like'.

I had two goes with the ones me mam had brought (Blaydon Asdas, medium free-range).  One splattered on impact with the uneven ground, while the other skipped merrily off down towards the kids playground, where it was devoured by my uncle's dog.  A fitting end, it was generally agreed, to a quite extraordinarily Eastery Easter weekend. 

Comments

[abby]

eeeeeee our jonathan, what a rollicking tale -- especially the bit about the northern names! If there's a spotter from When Saturday Comes lurking behind the privet, I think he might be adjusting his trilby right now and lighting up a celebratory Embassy Regal. And, doesn't the BBC need a cub football reporter now that it has relocated to Manchester?

Oh, and you missed out Unc-Egg Johnny!

[jonathan]

hmmm... strange you should mention the BBC- see today's post!

[Dave O'Neil]

I thought this sounded familiar - from the Dunston Website Match Report Guy.

[jonathan]

Thanks for stopping by, Dave.. I've still got my Dunston Fed badge and will be pestering me dad to come on another trip to the ground in the shadows of the brewery next time I'm up when there's a game on- we had a great afternoon out (in fact I was on the verge of coming back the Easter Monday for the Blue Star game but was, shall we say, overruled..)

Hey and if it's non-league stories you're after just look in the 'football stories' category (I'm sure you can find it in the sidebar there, being a website guy and all) where you will find plenty more, including accounts of trips to Glossop and Flixton)..