There should be no dancing to this Toon
Punters go wild for Hampden epic
It was a toss-up for the most nauseating sight of the week.
Either Therese Coffey having the Time of Her Life at the Tory Party Conference karaoke knees-up or watching Newcastle fans having a St James’ Park shindig to celebrate the selling out of their club.
The MP and Secretary of State for Work and Pensions throwing some significant shapes may have been boak-inducing but morality has long since gone out that particular window, so no surprises there.
Dancing the night away while battering the poor as she oversaw the end of the £20-a-week Universal Credit uplift – the biggest overnight welfare cut since the Second World War.
But just as grotesque was the mass hysteria of hundreds of Geordies who assembled at the news Mike Ashley was no more and the Crown Prince of Saudi Arabia, Mohammed bin Salman, was now calling the shots.
A snapshot of Brexit Britain, believing they’ve got their club back without a clue what they’d voted for or was coming their way.
Newcastle fans should know better than be seduced by the pledge of becoming the richest club in the world.
Talk in the Toon is all about a revolution and something’s revolting alright as a barbaric regime is given the green light by the Premier League to engage with some reputation washing and gain legitimacy on the global stage.
Torture, public executions and the restriction of free speech, anyone?
Fans appear to be content to turn a blind eye after an absence of silverware since lifting the 1955 FA Cup.
Maybe in that context there are supporters who’d sign a pact with the devil to be able to end that trophy drought.
But there’s no merit in achieving titles and cups through having more millions than the rest.
Tasting a bit of success should be a rationed affair, it’s what supporting
a team is all about.
Those fans who’ll pack into the Gallowgate
End, a landmark where they used to string up the locals as recently as 1844, will over time realise they’ve been hung out to dry by Prince Andrew’s ex Amanda Staveley, the powerbroker behind the deal.
What of the female season-ticket holders? The new owners deny your own the most basic of rights.
As for gay Geordies? Your club is now bankrolled by a regime who’d happily throw you in jail.
Despite the billions amongst the elite of English football, ethically bankrupt institutions are writing a history of ethical bankruptcy.
The Abu Dhabis of Manchester City and the Qataris of PSG have Amnesty International on their case. Newcastle’s been added to that list.
‘Sportswashing’ is now a byword for football.
The shame also falls on Toon legend Alan Shearer who’s lauded the takeover, with the word on the street he’s being lined up for a role at his old club.
Hatice Cengiz, the fiancee of murdered journalist Jamal Khashoggi, said it best when asked about the takeover by Mohammed bin Salman, whom some intelligence agencies believe ordered the murder. He denies it.
She said: “I want to remind them that there is something more important than money, more important than the financial situation of this club.
“There are really more expensive values that we have and need in our life.”
Howay the lads to that.
There are fans who’d sign a pact with devil to end trophy drought
Double jabbed or not double jabbed. In the end nobody in the Tartan Army was turned away at the door.
But what was billed a shot in the arm towards getting the passport stamped for a World Cup play-off spot became an adrenal ine injection of chaos and joy.
There certainly can be no Hampden deniers after a last gasp win over Israel was another huge step on the road to Qatar 2022.
Maybe Steve Clarke’s men won’t require a booster when Denmark come to town in November after all.
As a nation which has long since been immunised to the disappointment which unfulfilled expectation brings, this was a victory which protected us against so much hurt and pain. Scotland rarely follow protocols when trying to put points on the board in trying to book a place on the big stage.
We’re still nowhere near the danger of full-blown World Cup fever breaking out, but two more wins against the Faroes on Tuesday and Moldova on November 12 and we may be on red alert.
Boss Clarke was getting his first taste of a packed Hampden – 52,000 and back to a feeling of normality at the national stadium.
Raucous and rocking, those inside the ground were making light of the grey skies above by getting in the mood. The roar was back – and some.
Israel were also getting an introduction to a fully-mobilised Tartan Army having had their last two trips to Hampden behind closed doors due to the pandemic.
Booing their national anthem may have been bad manners but boy, it was good to have them all back.
Second place, we’d been assured, was all but in the palm of our hand, what could possibly go wrong?
An awful lot it would prove but the scene had been set.
The heavens had opened over Mount Florida but it couldn’t dampen an atmosphere which suggested something memorable was about to unfold.
Sir Alex Ferguson had even made the journey north to see what all the fuss was about. Let’s be honest , expectation and excitement over a Scotland side isn’t an everyday occurrence.
It was supposed to be our night. Israel boss Willi Ruttensteiner had tagged Clarke’s men favourites, and there’s a red flag right away.
There was a 50th cap for skipper Andy Robertson as he led his side out and it should have all started with a bang.
Che Adams opened up the goal for himself in the first minute but the strike was a side-footed slap and far too straight at Ofir Marciano.
Clarke made an emphatic declaration of love for this team and quite clearly the affection is shared throughout the squad.
It all appears genuine and is now extending beyond the pitch and into the stands – but Scotland had
the relationship straining at the seams from the start.
Eran Zahavi had been earmarked as the big danger prematch and for good reason.
Only Ronaldo has scored more than the Israeli at international level in the last three years.
And in the fifth minute the PSV Eindhoven star demonstrated exactly why caution had been urged as he curled a stupendous free-kick high past Craig Gordon.
Cue the deflation across the four corners of the ground.
It was a clinical execution by a player who’d been left in a heap after Jack Hendry had needlessly dived in.
From middle to front the Israelis had better players – Mu’nas Dabbur and Shakhtar Donetsk winger Manor Solomon were slicker, more inventive and carried greater threat and that’s why they were a goal to the good.
But all that was to briefly change on the half-hour.
One cultured sweep of John McGinn’s left foot from the edge of the box to finish off a flowing move saw the ball explode past Marciano and Scotland were level. But only for a matter of seconds. Chaotic attempts to clear a freekick ended with Dabbur stabbing a shot home.
Suggestions that the ball had hit an Israeli arm in the midst of the mayhem didn’t even result in a check by VAR.
On a frustrating sidenote, setpiece specialist Austin MacPhee had been tasked with unlocking the Israelis from a dead ball.
But answers on a postcard as to why he had the imposing six-foot three-inches of Scott McTominay taking corner kicks.
It certainly had the opposition scratching their heads and it wasn’t the only puzzler.
Lyndon Dkyes is even taller and was taking the long throws.
The set-piece was supposed to be a secret weapon, it’s just a pity that it arrived as part of Israel’s armoury and was being unleashed against a Scottish backline which couldn’t defend its own box.
It would get worse before the break when Billy Gilmour was clattered by Bibras Natkho to win a penalty and another huge dead ball moment.
Dykes rattled his effort off the legs of Marciano, and with that the half-time whistle blew.
Slowly Scotland started gaining some authority in the middle of the park after the break and the football gods started to look our way.
Dykes rattled in a shot with an acrobatic shunt off his studs only for the linesman to f lag for dangerous play.
But VAR intervened, Polish referee Szymon Marciniak went for a look himself and adjudged it had been Arad’s low head rather than Dykes’ high foot and it was all-square.
Marciano clawed a Dykes header away from the top corner as Scotland turned the screw.
Then came McTominay’s moment and the Tartan Army began to Boogie.
This was a double dose of euphoria and sometimes you just can’t mask the fact.