JOHNGIBSON He Saint half good
TWINKLE-TOED ASM IS RIGHT UP THERE WITH UNITED’S FINEST
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HE HAS the flamboyance of a double-barrelled name and is as colourful as a rainbow. A high-stepping, twinkle-toed dancer who can outkick Fred Astaire.
How grateful are we that Allan Saint-Maximin arrived among us to light up the world of Newcastle United which craves flamboyance!
I have reported on the Toon for the last 54 years and supported them since a schoolboy, marvelling at a trio of FA Cup victories in the Fifties which is a significant period of time.
On the evidence of my eyes, I can unreservedly nominate our latest Frenchman for entry to the United Wingers’ Hall Of Fame.
Yes, he can justifiably rub shoulders with great Magpie entertainers such as the dazzling Bobby Mitchell, the supremely elegant David Ginola, World Cup semi-finalist Chris Waddle, and Nobby Solano, that fine crosser of a football.
What United must do is hold on to Saint-Maximin and try to build a team round him, something they failed to do when cashing in on Waddle and Ginola.
ASM is a true Saint, a prince among subjects, who having scored crucial goals turned provider with three exquisite assists which destroyed the fragile confidence of a doomed Bournemouth.
How United and Saint-Maximin love it on the south coast.
He scored the winner down the road at Southampton the previous time Newcastle travelled, even if it was as long ago as early March, and gift-wrapped three more points against the Cherries.
If this is a guy who is tired, as Steve Bruce had indicated, then he is a different human being to the rest of us.
First Dwight Gayle benefited from the Frenchman’s vision, then Sean Longstaff did likewise from a by-line pull back, both in the first half-hour.
Finally substitute Miggy Almiron was well served to shoot United on to 42 points before another relegation worrier West Ham arrive at SJP come Sunday afternoon.
Job magnificently done, the Saintly one was brought off on the hour mark as Bruce looked to protect his prize asset.
Bournemouth, poor and desperately demoralised, were further outdone when Jonjo Shelvey, who is supposed to be United’s No 1 provider, set up another sub Valentino Lazaro to produce a great finish.
A 4-1 away scoreline was a joy even given the meek level of opposition and has banished all fears.
The one problem of course is Saint-Maximin WILL need a rest at some stage in this helter-skelter finale.
His worth – if we need the proof of figures when we can see for ourselves – is that Newcastle have won 10 of the 18 matches he has started but only one out of the 14 when he has been out of the original line-up. The Premier League’s relentless stacking up of matches in the wake of the coronavirus pandemic lockdown goes on unabated in an unseemly rush to complete the season in case a second spike engulfs us.
What a slog it has been . . . playing in the summer, weirdly behind closed doors, and with a crazy fixture list which so far has gone Sunday, Wednesday, Sunday, Wednesday, and now Sunday again.
The Hammers represent Newcastle’s fifth game in 14 days after an enforced lay-off when player fitness eroded.
ASM has played in every one so far. No wonder with all the hustle and bustle the use of subs was bumped up to five!
How Bruce shuffles the pack is becoming more interesting as he moves deeper into a congested finish to the season.
He shook up personnel in midweek with six changes which, surprisingly given his pre-match words, did not include the omission of Saint-Maximin.
Bruce will no doubt shuffle his cards again before West Ham come into range. The Toon Army will hope that somehow Allan rises from his bed of rest for another sturdy stint of entertaining.
Sunday is a match with many sideshows . . . Karren Brady and Amanda Staveley, two old Sunderland managers Steve Bruce and David Moyes in a fight to the death, Andy Carroll thrown out on a free by the Hammers.
Two sets of owners not exactly beloved by fans.
Oh and memories . . . when we had pedigree pups like Alan Shearer, Sir Les, and Peter Beardsley and they had three World Cup winners at the same time in Bobby Moore, Geoff Hurst, and Martin Peters.
Memories of Pop Robson, who played brilliantly for both clubs, and a controversial figure Alan Pardew who managed both.
Dark recollections, too, of when United conceded eight goals down there and fielded three goalkeepers.
Now it is a fixture which gets the silent treatment. Played without a crowd.
SJP is no longer the graveyard of champions, all bouncing with passion, but as sombre as a graveyard. These are ghost games.
Still, needs must and anything is better than nothing.
Especially if through the television lens we are entertained so royally by someone who has developed into so much more than a show pony!
How grateful are we that Allan Saint-Maximin arrived among us to light up the world of Newcastle United