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Mad Darren


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There are frequent accusations that modern football has sold its soul—that tribal bear pits have become sanitised shadows of their old selves, and that committed supporters have become fickle consumers.

 

I agree with that to a certain extent, as would many fans of a particular age.

 

The Toon Ultras were established by a group of old-fashioned supporters in a bid to bring the noise back to St. James' Park. It’s a worthy aim—especially in an age when grounds have become sterile environments where the main goal is to extract as much cash from the fan/consumer as possible.

 

It wasn’t always like that.

 

Back in the 80s, St. James Park was a crumbling relic. The two main ends were uncovered, seats were a luxury, and the toilets were unspeakably bad.

 

What's more, the catering would give you botulism, the turnstile operators were bent, and today's Health and Safety police would've had a seizure if they'd see the steps you climbed to reach the terraces.

 

And you know what?

 

We bloody loved it.

 

The home end then was the Gallowgate End, and all the local boys massed up behind the goal there in one of two sections—the Scoreboard or the Corner.

 

On slow days when the opposition didn’t bring many fans, we’d amuse ourselves by taunting the residents of whichever section we weren’t in.

 

The Scoreboard was so named because of the giant, Subbuteo-style scoreboard above the terracing. "Overenthusiastic" fans were fond of rearranging the letters in the rival team's name to read something abusive.

 

The Corner, on the other hand, was the corner of the end that led into the East Stand. It had a flag planted at the top of the terracing, next to a little hot dog stand that was robbed left, right, and centre every other week.

 

The Corner tended to be the preserve of "blokes"—thickly-muscled gadgies who'd graduated from from their teen years in the scoreboard section and held us teenage youngsters in amused disdain...like you do a drunken nephew who’s just made a play for the local bike.

 

To stand on the Gallowgate End on a sunny day, full of beer with thousands of other like-minded souls, was just about as good as it got.

 

If the Toon were winning or even just playing well, your day was complete.

 

And if it was all going wrong—if you were on the open terracing in the rain and we were getting a hiding—you could always rely on one man:

 

Mad Darren.

 

Mad Darren lived and breathed Newcastle United. You could travel to any game, on any day, in any part of the country...and he’d be there.

 

He was the type of bloke who planned his life around the fixture list, and once he was at the game put his heart and soul into it. I didn’t know him to talk to; I didn’t even know his real name.

 

I just knew he was Mad Darren. That was enough.

 

You’d enter the scoreboard end and there he’d be—stood on a barrier, swaying drunkenly with the undulations of the crowd around him...and you’d join them singing lustily as Darren kept all the terrace favourites rolling off the tongue.

 

It was daunting to hit a strange town on a dark wintry Saturday or a wet Wednesday night, knowing you’d probably get beat and the locals would be quite keen on rearranging your face.

 

Sometimes having a few pints in a bar and then getting to the ground without having to do your Rocky impression was all you could ask for—but it was all worth it at the game itself, where a familiar figure would stagger onto a barrier and proclaim himself proud to be a Geordie.

 

You knew then everything would be all right, and you’d laugh about it the next day—and later in life  you might even write a book about it!

 

Mad Darren single-handedly kept lots of us interested during the late 80s. Sadly, he died in London in 1989 following Newcastle at Wimbledon.

 

There was a scuffle with some Wigan Rugby League fans—and while the circumstances aren’t fully known, the story at the time was that they were mob-handed and he was alone.

 

It was a tragic end to a young life—but trite as this may sound, Darren died as he lived: following his beloved Mags.

 

No book about Newcastle United would be complete without a tribute to Mad Darren. I was proud to know him, however indirectly, and believe that in a few short years he influenced the lives of more people than many of us will ever meet.

 

He was the original Toon Ultra.

 

Howay the lads.

 

http://www.bleacherreport.com/articles/3933-Newcastle_United-Newcastle_United_Remembering_Mad_Darren

 

 

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Guest Mucky01

the scoreboard was my choice.

 

crap team, crap ground, shocking facilities, brilliant occasionally, worth it for the quid or so to get in for the atmosphere etc.

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Guest Sniffer

SJP is a morgue these days in comparison to the 60s and 70s.

 

Derby matches were brilliant when I was a kid at SJP for atmosphere and even Roker park was a hell of a day out.

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Bloody hell, I didn't know he was dead, him and another lad called Tommy were both well known for climbing onto the barriers, both were usually pissed and both as mad as you can get.

 

He was only 23 rip

 

Barrier Tommy is still alive and well though and usually found drinking in The Clock on Clayton Street

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He was only 23 rip

 

Barrier Tommy is still alive and well though and usually found drinking in The Clock on Clayton Street

I hope Tommy isn't still singing 'Little White Bull.'  The last time I can remember seeing Tommy was outside the Green Market, he was pushing a barrow of fruit. 
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He was only 23 rip

 

Barrier Tommy is still alive and well though and usually found drinking in The Clock on Clayton Street

I hope Tommy isn't still singing 'Little White Bull.'  The last time I can remember seeing Tommy was outside the Green Market, he was pushing a barrow of fruit. 

he still works there and divides his leisure time between the clock and black garter
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I was a Corner regular during 89-90 and then graduated to the Scoreboard after that. I remember one lad called 'Norman' in the Corner. Big bloke with a skinhead and wore dungarees from what I remember ! He used to get up on the barrier and start the singing off.

 

Scoreboard was miles better than the Corner though. No contest.  :celb:

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Reading the thread reminded me of Darren and also Norman who used to be in the corner.  Shocking football at the time but top banter.  Any of that type of exuberance these days would end up in a banning order.  They dont like noise in the library.

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Took my forum name from that very "scoreboard" end, coupled with the year Keegan signed as a player.

Felt very nostalgic reading that piece. Didn't know Darren, but him up on those barriers sticks in my memory. Tragic death. Was there week in, week out, then gone suddenly. Makes you think.

St James' was full of characters back then, and although the ground was crumbling to bits the atmosphere was superb.

Going to go now before i sound even more like an old man. Ahh, them were the days.

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I can remember queing up outside for a couple of hours beforehand aswell and various characters climbing over the wall, the steps being one long urinal.  Happy days!

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He was only 23 rip

 

Barrier Tommy is still alive and well though and usually found drinking in The Clock on Clayton Street

I hope Tommy isn't still singing 'Little White Bull.'  The last time I can remember seeing Tommy was outside the Green Market, he was pushing a barrow of fruit. 

 

Ha, was thinking about that song while I was reading the original post.

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He was only 23 rip

 

Barrier Tommy is still alive and well though and usually found drinking in The Clock on Clayton Street

I hope Tommy isn't still singing 'Little White Bull.' The last time I can remember seeing Tommy was outside the Green Market, he was pushing a barrow of fruit. 

 

Ha, was thinking about that song while I was reading the original post.

i had it as my sig for a long time
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He was only 23 rip

 

Barrier Tommy is still alive and well though and usually found drinking in The Clock on Clayton Street

I hope Tommy isn't still singing 'Little White Bull.' The last time I can remember seeing Tommy was outside the Green Market, he was pushing a barrow of fruit. 

 

Ha, was thinking about that song while I was reading the original post.

i had it as my sig for a long time

 

Shame it was pre-mobile phone cameras....would have been canny on youtube!

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And the guy who sat in the East stand, right next to the Corner that used to make the sound like a Red Indian ?

native american shurely ?

 

please excuse my total political incorrectness

 

Think he was more of a Cherokee

 

I think that more than anything is my abiding memory of my formative years in the benches and paddocks. The sheer randomness to suddenly hear the hollering.

 

That and the Gollowgate starting fires and seemingly having dance-offs.

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And the guy who sat in the East stand, right next to the Corner that used to make the sound like a Red Indian ?

native american shurely ?

 

please excuse my total political incorrectness

 

Think he was more of a Cherokee

 

I think that more than anything is my abiding memory of my formative years in the benches and paddocks. The sheer randomness to suddenly hear the hollering.

 

We called him Tonto.  Didn't hear him for a few years then he suddenly reappeared at an away match about 10 years ago if I recall.

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Yup - I remember the Red Indian caller as well - been missing from the ground for a long time.

 

The bogs in the Gallowgate End were a disgrace - I still remember that the pots had no seat and that folk could watch you having a slash if they peered over the top of the Gallowgate ! :D

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