A steward reflects on the game. Geddit?

Christmas in Newcastle. What’s not to love? I was there for the Crystal Palace game on Saturday and I knew it was going to be a bit special when I got off the train to be greeted buy the sight of a man with what can only be described as a black and white toilet brush on his head. Then, as I was sipping my coffee, a group of middle aged guys wandered past, dressed in Crystal Palace shirts and Peaky Blinders caps, against the backdrop of the Salvation Army band playing “Do They Know It’s Christmas?” The answer to that, on this evidence, is that they certainly know DO how to do Christmas in the Toon.

Newcastle Christmas Market. The Apres Ski bar was there; the metros were off today so I suppose there may have been SOME people who’d arrived there on skis. So it was aptly named in that case

The Christmas Market was on at the Monument. It included among other things a five-story German sandwich stall, and Santa’s Grotto on an old single decker bus. There was also an “Apres-Ski” bar for those who’d arrived on skis down Northumberland street I suppose?

My first stop was a place called “The Shack.” It’s a collection of converted containers that house a variety of bars and shops. It’s more Bigg Market than Camden Market but the atmosphere was very festive. There was a young lad with a guitar there, gamely carrying on with his version of Taylor Swift’s “Shake It Off’ in the face of mass indifference from the crowd who were either weighed down by shopping bags or supping pints before they headed up to the game. The singer stopped short of exhorting everyone to “get down to this sick beat”.

The Shack, complete with Taylor Swift songster. Spot the red and blue scarf!

I popped in to the Union Rooms near the station to meet some Palace supporting friends. The bar was quite crowded despite the lack of metros (they were on strike today) and most of the clientele had southern accents and red and blue scarves on. I felt at home, when today is often the day when I feel like a stranger in Newcastle. Lots of very loud songs from the Palace fans. I think some of them had been there for a while.

And so to the ground. If you know the away end there, you will be well aware of the 120-odd steps that you have to climb to get to your seat as a visiting supporter. If you make it to the top you’re rewarded with almost a birds-eye view of the pitch where it is nigh on impossible to make out the numbers on the players backs. (There were seagulls actually flying below us, which is quite apt if if you are a Palace fan). The guy on the gate who was searching us as we went in took one look at me and, with genuine concern on his face, asked me if I needed to use the lift to get to my seat! “No thank you”, I replied in what I hoped was a rather haughty tone.

The “Big Match”. The game finished 1-0 to Newcastle. Which is how bookies get rich.

There was a guy standing next to me (yes, I know we should all have been sitting but in the real world that doesn’t happen) who fancied himself as a singer. What he lacked in talent he made up for in volume and enthusiasm. I didn’t leave my seat until half time, to pop in to the loo and passively smoke three or four cigarettes from the group in there who were huddled outside one of the cubicles.

Opposing fans always see the games from their own perspective. But trust me when I tell you that Palace were unlucky to lose. And the worst thing that can happen is a late winner from the home team when we should’ve been 3-0 up. But that’s Palace for you. I left the ground disappointed to say the least and from the comments from the Geordies next to me as we drifted out of the ground, they felt lucky to win.

And then it was time to go down to Eldon Square bus station, and get the number 10B home to Prudhoe. Up in the front seat was yet another guy with a Peaky Blinders haircut; but this time, he was wearing a black and white shirt – and a smile.