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The Magedia Thread - Sunderland suck trollolololol


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Newcastle should sue some media after last night. Sky and others were reporting the game "sold out" at about 6 PM - there were cash turnstiles with no queus and I've heard from a few people who were gonna pay at the gate and decided not to go when they heard this. ;)

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Remember that cock I mentioned ten minutes ago, Andy Dunn from Britain's Finest Newspaper, the ever reputable News of the World?

 

Not content with slagging us off in his match drivel, this is his column's latest offering:

 

Geordies stuck in the land of 1996

 

AT every turn in this throwback of a city, you are reminded that it is unique.

 

"It's a very special club," said Kevin Keegan, working on the theory that if you repeat it often enough, sane people might actually start believing it.

 

"It is not a normal club. The Geordie fans have worked hard all week and they want to come and enjoy their football."

 

Because, of course, those layabouts from the East End doss around for a few days and then wander off to Upton Park not really bothered what is put in front of them.

 

And car plant workers from Liverpool just sit on their idle hands, waiting for their weekly outing to Anfield or Goodison where they are not bothered how their team plays football — they just want them to win.

 

"You don't understand," Keegan went on, slipping effortlessly into the patter that tickles every Geordie's black-and-white striped tummy. "And people outside the area never will."

 

Sentimental drivel.

 

It's a hoary old caricature that should be treated with the contempt it deserves.

 

All Scousers are funny, all Cockneys are spivs, all Scots are tight, all Welsh enjoy the company of sheep, all Geordies are the epitome of the true fan.

 

No. All Geordies are stuck in a football land that time forgot. The football land of 1996.

 

A land in which Arsenal had entered the brief, ill-advised and ill-fated Bruce Rioch era. A land in which Chelsea could finish no higher than 11th.

 

A land without Continental managers.

 

There were only two non-English bosses in the Premier League at the start of the 1995-96 season — Joe Kinnear and a yet-to-be-knighted Alex Ferguson.

 

And does anyone in their right mind seriously think that the level of sophistication, the level of athleticism, the level of tactical awareness has not risen dramatically enough to render Keegan's approach ineffective?

 

Anyone outside the deluded Geordie nation, that is?

 

Over a decade has passed and only Keegan's dress sense has stayed remotely the same.

 

These people ARE football-lovers. Just like Mancs, Scousers, Brummies and Londoners are.

 

And they DO deserve to see entertaining football. Just like Mancs, Scousers, Brummies and Londoners do.

 

But if Keegan loves this club so much, then jacking them up with a quick shot of gung-ho football should not be his aim.

 

Undeniably, Arsenal and Manchester United play the most attractive football in the Premier League, if not in Europe.

 

But their entertainment is based on a long-term philosophy laid down by two managers who don't consider quitting at the first sign of turbulence.

 

It is founded on a footballing mentality that is instilled in the youth teams and reserve teams — levels of football that Keegan appeared to consider worthless during his last tenure at St James' Park.

 

Earlier in the week, chairman Chris Mort spoke of the qualities they wanted from a new manager and they included developing a top-class youth set-up.

 

A few days later and he is sat on the podium next to Keegan, the man who did away with Newcastle reserves and employed Mark Lawrenson to coach the defence in an experiment which lasted all of four months.

 

This was clearly a Mike Ashley appointment. And unwittingly, Keegan let slip exactly what sort of owner Ashley is.

 

"I wanted to see the guy whose toy-set it was," said Keegan. Toy-set. Spot on.

 

Got the mansion, got the boat, got the plane. What next to amuse a bored billionaire?

 

What next to try and buy happiness? A decent shrink might see a psychological reason why Ashley mixes it with the masses out of whom he has made his obscene fortune by selling over-priced replica shirts.

 

And a decent shrink might not be wrong.

 

He's got all the tangibles enormous wealth can bring.

 

The great intangibles are being liked, adored, hero-worshipped.

 

In these parts, dragging Keegan away from a Mickey Mouse business venture and delivering him to the steps of St James' Park guarantees those.

 

He has bought the club on a whim and he has bought Keegan because his legion of new-found mates in the Quayside boozers asked him to.

 

"My round again, boys. What's it to be?"

 

"Mine's a King Kev, Mikey boy."

 

"No problem!"

 

Despite the fact that Keegan — for all his genius as a player and for all his coaching jobs — is a man who has never been besotted with football management like Fergie is, like Arsene Wenger is, like Rafa Benitez is.

 

Of course, he was given a Messiah's welcome yesterday.

 

Of course, he has lifted spirits.

 

But if these supporters really do believe that Keegan and Ashley are the saviours, then the man himself was right...this really is a place no outsider can ever understand.

 

*spit*

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Remember that cock I mentioned ten minutes ago, Andy Dunn from Britain's Finest Newspaper, the ever reputable News of the World?

 

Not content with slagging us off in his match drivel, this is his column's latest offering:

 

Geordies stuck in the land of 1996

 

AT every turn in this throwback of a city, you are reminded that it is unique.

 

"It's a very special club," said Kevin Keegan, working on the theory that if you repeat it often enough, sane people might actually start believing it.

 

"It is not a normal club. The Geordie fans have worked hard all week and they want to come and enjoy their football."

 

Because, of course, those layabouts from the East End doss around for a few days and then wander off to Upton Park not really bothered what is put in front of them.

 

And car plant workers from Liverpool just sit on their idle hands, waiting for their weekly outing to Anfield or Goodison where they are not bothered how their team plays football — they just want them to win.

 

"You don't understand," Keegan went on, slipping effortlessly into the patter that tickles every Geordie's black-and-white striped tummy. "And people outside the area never will."

 

Sentimental drivel.

 

It's a hoary old caricature that should be treated with the contempt it deserves.

 

All Scousers are funny, all Cockneys are spivs, all Scots are tight, all Welsh enjoy the company of sheep, all Geordies are the epitome of the true fan.

 

No. All Geordies are stuck in a football land that time forgot. The football land of 1996.

 

A land in which Arsenal had entered the brief, ill-advised and ill-fated Bruce Rioch era. A land in which Chelsea could finish no higher than 11th.

 

A land without Continental managers.

 

There were only two non-English bosses in the Premier League at the start of the 1995-96 season — Joe Kinnear and a yet-to-be-knighted Alex Ferguson.

 

And does anyone in their right mind seriously think that the level of sophistication, the level of athleticism, the level of tactical awareness has not risen dramatically enough to render Keegan's approach ineffective?

 

Anyone outside the deluded Geordie nation, that is?

 

Over a decade has passed and only Keegan's dress sense has stayed remotely the same.

 

These people ARE football-lovers. Just like Mancs, Scousers, Brummies and Londoners are.

 

And they DO deserve to see entertaining football. Just like Mancs, Scousers, Brummies and Londoners do.

 

But if Keegan loves this club so much, then jacking them up with a quick shot of gung-ho football should not be his aim.

 

Undeniably, Arsenal and Manchester United play the most attractive football in the Premier League, if not in Europe.

 

But their entertainment is based on a long-term philosophy laid down by two managers who don't consider quitting at the first sign of turbulence.

 

It is founded on a footballing mentality that is instilled in the youth teams and reserve teams — levels of football that Keegan appeared to consider worthless during his last tenure at St James' Park.

 

Earlier in the week, chairman Chris Mort spoke of the qualities they wanted from a new manager and they included developing a top-class youth set-up.

 

A few days later and he is sat on the podium next to Keegan, the man who did away with Newcastle reserves and employed Mark Lawrenson to coach the defence in an experiment which lasted all of four months.

 

This was clearly a Mike Ashley appointment. And unwittingly, Keegan let slip exactly what sort of owner Ashley is.

 

"I wanted to see the guy whose toy-set it was," said Keegan. Toy-set. Spot on.

 

Got the mansion, got the boat, got the plane. What next to amuse a bored billionaire?

 

What next to try and buy happiness? A decent shrink might see a psychological reason why Ashley mixes it with the masses out of whom he has made his obscene fortune by selling over-priced replica shirts.

 

And a decent shrink might not be wrong.

 

He's got all the tangibles enormous wealth can bring.

 

The great intangibles are being liked, adored, hero-worshipped.

 

In these parts, dragging Keegan away from a Mickey Mouse business venture and delivering him to the steps of St James' Park guarantees those.

 

He has bought the club on a whim and he has bought Keegan because his legion of new-found mates in the Quayside boozers asked him to.

 

"My round again, boys. What's it to be?"

 

"Mine's a King Kev, Mikey boy."

 

"No problem!"

 

Despite the fact that Keegan — for all his genius as a player and for all his coaching jobs — is a man who has never been besotted with football management like Fergie is, like Arsene Wenger is, like Rafa Benitez is.

 

Of course, he was given a Messiah's welcome yesterday.

 

Of course, he has lifted spirits.

 

But if these supporters really do believe that Keegan and Ashley are the saviours, then the man himself was right...this really is a place no outsider can ever understand.

 

*spit*

it's very talksport and i hope the *spit* was ironic
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Remember that cock I mentioned ten minutes ago, Andy Dunn from Britain's Finest Newspaper, the ever reputable News of the World?

 

Not content with slagging us off in his match drivel, this is his column's latest offering:

 

Geordies stuck in the land of 1996

 

AT every turn in this throwback of a city, you are reminded that it is unique.

 

"It's a very special club," said Kevin Keegan, working on the theory that if you repeat it often enough, sane people might actually start believing it.

 

"It is not a normal club. The Geordie fans have worked hard all week and they want to come and enjoy their football."

 

Because, of course, those layabouts from the East End doss around for a few days and then wander off to Upton Park not really bothered what is put in front of them.

 

And car plant workers from Liverpool just sit on their idle hands, waiting for their weekly outing to Anfield or Goodison where they are not bothered how their team plays football — they just want them to win.

 

"You don't understand," Keegan went on, slipping effortlessly into the patter that tickles every Geordie's black-and-white striped tummy. "And people outside the area never will."

 

Sentimental drivel.

 

It's a hoary old caricature that should be treated with the contempt it deserves.

 

All Scousers are funny, all Cockneys are spivs, all Scots are tight, all Welsh enjoy the company of sheep, all Geordies are the epitome of the true fan.

 

No. All Geordies are stuck in a football land that time forgot. The football land of 1996.

 

A land in which Arsenal had entered the brief, ill-advised and ill-fated Bruce Rioch era. A land in which Chelsea could finish no higher than 11th.

 

A land without Continental managers.

 

There were only two non-English bosses in the Premier League at the start of the 1995-96 season — Joe Kinnear and a yet-to-be-knighted Alex Ferguson.

 

And does anyone in their right mind seriously think that the level of sophistication, the level of athleticism, the level of tactical awareness has not risen dramatically enough to render Keegan's approach ineffective?

 

Anyone outside the deluded Geordie nation, that is?

 

Over a decade has passed and only Keegan's dress sense has stayed remotely the same.

 

These people ARE football-lovers. Just like Mancs, Scousers, Brummies and Londoners are.

 

And they DO deserve to see entertaining football. Just like Mancs, Scousers, Brummies and Londoners do.

 

But if Keegan loves this club so much, then jacking them up with a quick shot of gung-ho football should not be his aim.

 

Undeniably, Arsenal and Manchester United play the most attractive football in the Premier League, if not in Europe.

 

But their entertainment is based on a long-term philosophy laid down by two managers who don't consider quitting at the first sign of turbulence.

 

It is founded on a footballing mentality that is instilled in the youth teams and reserve teams — levels of football that Keegan appeared to consider worthless during his last tenure at St James' Park.

 

Earlier in the week, chairman Chris Mort spoke of the qualities they wanted from a new manager and they included developing a top-class youth set-up.

 

A few days later and he is sat on the podium next to Keegan, the man who did away with Newcastle reserves and employed Mark Lawrenson to coach the defence in an experiment which lasted all of four months.

 

This was clearly a Mike Ashley appointment. And unwittingly, Keegan let slip exactly what sort of owner Ashley is.

 

"I wanted to see the guy whose toy-set it was," said Keegan. Toy-set. Spot on.

 

Got the mansion, got the boat, got the plane. What next to amuse a bored billionaire?

 

What next to try and buy happiness? A decent shrink might see a psychological reason why Ashley mixes it with the masses out of whom he has made his obscene fortune by selling over-priced replica shirts.

 

And a decent shrink might not be wrong.

 

He's got all the tangibles enormous wealth can bring.

 

The great intangibles are being liked, adored, hero-worshipped.

 

In these parts, dragging Keegan away from a Mickey Mouse business venture and delivering him to the steps of St James' Park guarantees those.

 

He has bought the club on a whim and he has bought Keegan because his legion of new-found mates in the Quayside boozers asked him to.

 

"My round again, boys. What's it to be?"

 

"Mine's a King Kev, Mikey boy."

 

"No problem!"

 

Despite the fact that Keegan — for all his genius as a player and for all his coaching jobs — is a man who has never been besotted with football management like Fergie is, like Arsene Wenger is, like Rafa Benitez is.

 

Of course, he was given a Messiah's welcome yesterday.

 

Of course, he has lifted spirits.

 

But if these supporters really do believe that Keegan and Ashley are the saviours, then the man himself was right...this really is a place no outsider can ever understand.

 

*spit*

it's very talksport and i hope the *spit* was ironic

 

Oh I know he's a WUM, the article is filled with "Agree or disagree? Let me know!" links. But he's still a wanker.

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You should have a look at some of the stories lined up under the search item 'Newcastle United' on newsnow.  :laugh:

 

http://www.newsnow.co.uk/newsfeed/?name=Newcastle+United

 

Charlize Theron topless News of the World 00:11

 

Hain wife sleaze probe News of the World 00:11

 

Video: Smoking chimp News of the World 00:11

 

Rat caught bed-handed News of the World 00:11

 

Sex doll cock-up News of the World 00:11

 

Newt at Ten News of the World 00:11

 

Burrell is £25m flunky News of the World 00:11

 

Echo peach News of the World 00:11

 

When celebs attack News of the World 00:11

 

:cheesy:

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Andy Dunn?

 

try Andy Cunn(t).

 

I could write for a shitty paper like that ffs.

 

"The Toon fans were eager to see an attacking game on the return of Special K, however with Bolton putting 10 men behind the ball for most of the game, they ensured that the Geordies in the Gallowgate would not be enjoying a few pints in the Bigg Market tonight"

 

 

Seriously, just use Toon and Geordies alot to refer to the fans, nicknames for managers (Special K, Big Sam etc), and refer continuously to the Gallowgate end and that we all go drinking in the Bigg Market on Saturday nights.

 

Piss easy

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Last paragraph is priceless. Doesnt every football fan in the world dream? Whether it be a Man U fan dreaming of winning the Champions League again or a Torquay fan dreaming of getting back into the 2nd Division.

Isnt this what drives every fan on.

 

What an utter cock. He must be some dullard if he doesnt have any dreams at all. I guess the emptiness of his life explains the article

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Honestly these fukers instil some burning hatred in me. They anger parts that should be left alone for something meaningful.  :blush:

 

Some articles i tail off and day dream about meeting these people in the streets and twating the bastards to the floor before stamping all over their heads, not content with that i picture other ways to physically hurt them and sum up which would do the most damage. It usually ends with a fly kick to the head through a shop window.

 

:lol:

 

But then i come to my senses and put Bruce lee back in the box and just hope that my club can stick two fingers up at them all; hope to piss on the shit they've wrote, and maybe that could become a possibility sometime very soon.

 

The fukers have had a field day with us over the last several years, why? Because we've done fuk all to prove them wrong. They can write as much negative shite as they like but fact is, we've done nowt to prove them wrong, all we done is prove them right, and on top of that dropping a few more clangers for them to feed off along the way.

 

Lets hope that ends now. That next time we read some of this shite we all laugh it off as its the desperate last attempt by some cockney journo cunt fuker choking on his own words as we give them the two fingers on the way to beaten their fuking teams into oblivion.

 

It will happen, but you do know what will happen, we'll have 20 second window of opportunity before the feckless fuking fukers start praising the club to high heaven labelling us their second team and willing us on, at least until the next fall.

 

Winning a trophy, even the League cup puts a stop to these bastards, i will celebrate more for the silence than i would taking joy in winning a competition tbh, thats how much they've fuked me off over the years.

 

Pricks.

 

 

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Honestly these fukers instil some burning hatred in me. They anger parts that should be left alone for something meaningful.  :blush:

 

Some articles i tail off and day dream about meeting these people in the streets and twating the bastards to the floor before stamping all over their heads, not content with that i picture other ways to physically hurt them and sum up which would do the most damage. It usually ends with a fly kick to the head through a shop window.

 

:lol:

 

But then i come to my senses and put Bruce lee back in the box and just hope that my club can stick two fingers up at them all; hope to piss on the s*** they've wrote, and maybe that could become a possibility sometime very soon.

 

The fukers have had a field day with us over the last several years, why? Because we've done fuk all to prove them wrong. They can write as much negative s**** as they like but fact is, we've done nowt to prove them wrong, all we done is prove them right, and on top of that dropping a few more clangers for them to feed off along the way.

 

Lets hope that ends now. That next time we read some of this s**** we all laugh it off as its the desperate last attempt by some cockney journo c*** fuker choking on his own words as we give them the two fingers on the way to beaten their fuking teams into oblivion.

 

It will happen, but you do know what will happen, we'll have 20 second window of opportunity before the feckless fuking fukers start praising the club to high heaven labelling us their second team and willing us on, at least until the next fall.

 

Winning a trophy, even the League cup puts a stop to these bastards, i will celebrate more for the silence than i would taking joy in winning a competition tbh, thats how much they've fuked me off over the years.

 

Pricks.

 

 

 

I think they'll have a few more laughs before things get substantially better, they don’t bother me in the slightest, it’s just sour grapes.

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Honestly these fukers instil some burning hatred in me. They anger parts that should be left alone for something meaningful.  :blush:

 

Some articles i tail off and day dream about meeting these people in the streets and twating the bastards to the floor before stamping all over their heads, not content with that i picture other ways to physically hurt them and sum up which would do the most damage. It usually ends with a fly kick to the head through a shop window.

 

:lol:

 

But then i come to my senses and put Bruce lee back in the box and just hope that my club can stick two fingers up at them all; hope to piss on the s*** they've wrote, and maybe that could become a possibility sometime very soon.

 

The fukers have had a field day with us over the last several years, why? Because we've done fuk all to prove them wrong. They can write as much negative s**** as they like but fact is, we've done nowt to prove them wrong, all we done is prove them right, and on top of that dropping a few more clangers for them to feed off along the way.

 

Lets hope that ends now. That next time we read some of this s**** we all laugh it off as its the desperate last attempt by some cockney journo c*** fuker choking on his own words as we give them the two fingers on the way to beaten their fuking teams into oblivion.

 

It will happen, but you do know what will happen, we'll have 20 second window of opportunity before the feckless fuking fukers start praising the club to high heaven labelling us their second team and willing us on, at least until the next fall.

 

Winning a trophy, even the League cup puts a stop to these bastards, i will celebrate more for the silence than i would taking joy in winning a competition tbh, thats how much they've fuked me off over the years.

 

Pricks.

 

 

 

I think they'll have a few more laughs before things get substantially better, they don’t bother me in the slightest, it’s just sour grapes.

yes but it does annoy that instead of saying "we got it monsterously wrong" they'll then be behind us 100%.

 

 

 

dont buy the pap buy private eye

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Last paragraph is priceless. Doesnt every football fan in the world dream? Whether it be a Man U fan dreaming of winning the Champions League again or a Torquay fan dreaming of getting back into the 2nd Division.

Isnt this what drives every fan on.

 

What an utter cock. He must be some dullard if he doesnt have any dreams at all. I guess the emptiness of his life explains the article

i've even ripped that article out and kept it somewhere safe for future reference.
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Guest sicko2ndbest

Sunday Supplement on SS1

 

Completely taking the piss out of us, only the Sunderland fan stuck up for us (i know)

 

All of them saying it will end in tears, Shearer and Keegan wont work, Keegan has no tactics and personality flaws

 

This is a snippet

 

Almost as talked about as Kevin Keegan returning to Newcastle is the possibility of Alan Shearer joining him in a coaching dream team on Tyneside.

 

 

A Keegan-Shearer axis would be the ideal partnership for many Newcastle fans, already delirious that Keegan is back in town, but the Sunday Supplement this week wondered about both the wisdom of such a partnership and its likelihood.

 

 

Ian McGarry, football writer in The Sun, believes that the partnership is an unlikely one, and from Kevin Keegan's point of view, also an unwise one.

 

 

"There is a dialogue but hopefully, around this table and in our profession, one of the things that we are supposed to be able to do is read people as well as read newspapers," said McGarry.

 

 

"Reading between the lines of both Keegan and Shearer there is no great will between both men to be joined in what has been described as a dream team.

 

 

"I think the reasons for that are fairly obvious; there is only room for one Mr. Newcastle and they have got two if they are both there.

 

 

"First of all, if you are Keegan, as every other manager of Newcastle in the last three years has found out, you are always going to have Shearer on your shoulder anyway, waiting to come in.

 

 

"So why invite him in to be on your shoulder, so that the first time you lose three games in a row, Mike Ashley says 'time to move over Kev, bye bye, we've got the replacement here'?"

 

 

"From Keegan's point of view he might think, 'is it really worth my while bringing him on board?'.

 

 

McGarry also felt that Shearer has been 'evasive' about joining up with Keegan and said that if he really wanted the job, he would already have it.

 

 

He said: "From Shearer's point of view, he has been very evasive and I think that is for a reason.

 

 

"If he loves the club so much, if he is so desperate to become No.2 to Kevin Keegan, then he would already be there. He's not".

 

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1996 a time when Eastenders & Corrie both had a bout 15 million regular viewers & the story lines were often built around problems or social issues in the real world. Now both have about half the viewers &  quiet week in the square these days is  3 murders, drug addiction, incest & a explosion in the cafe. The next new major topic has to outdo the last one & there rivials in the shock stakes but no matter what they do viewing figures are still declining.  In 1996 the sports columnists like John Sadler & Brian Granville wrote mainly ABOUT  THE FOOTBALL on the pitch & players & had a much bigger readership & it was insightful in the main. The likes of Dunn, Kidd & others are very similar to the script writers of the soaps in that they are out to shock, being sensationalist & are looking for there article to strike a new level of lowness than there rivals & like the soaps they are operating in declining market place.

 

Football journalism is rotten. Harry Harris is the highest paid football journalists & yet he never writes about a match, how f*** wrong does that seem. I watch the Sunday Supplement & is very rare that the debate is around the football. In the summer months the cricket writers takeover & they are talking about the bowlers action, players who should be picked for England, batting order, generally about the game. Football journalists have got swallowed up there own arse.

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Guest Knightrider

Henry Winter is the exception, an obvious football fan and someone who loves to write about the game. Most others are nobs and know fuck all.

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Henry Winter is the exception, an obvious football fan and someone who loves to write about the game. Most others are nobs and know fuck all.

 

I just get the impression that they are all very immature men who spend their days giggling at the various different names they can call people.

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