Why...

...do I follow Newcastle United? I have followed the fortunes of Newcastle United (NUFC) for as long as I can remember and have only two or three times in probably 45 years of following them received any sort of joy or fulfilment from the activity. The winning of The Inter Cities Fairs Cup in 1969 and two or three promotions were the highlights whilst relegations from the top flight and two or three disastrous FA Cup Final defeats have been the low points. The rest of the time has been spent in agonised mediocrity hoping and praying for better times.
It seems no matter how good a player is when he signs for NUFC his talent or fitness deserts him and he falls into mediocrity only to be transferred to another team when he suddenly regains form and fitness and starts ripping up railway tracks for fun.
Every season is the same, nothing happens on the transfer market, no decent players are bought and we are assured that this crop of players plus 'the youngsters coming through' will be good enough to take the league by the scruff of the neck and win it by a mile, or if not at least qualify for Europe which then becomes next season's excuse for failure and escaping relegation by the skin of their teeth, or not as the case may be.
It is an addiction, I stopped attending matches a few years ago when the price became prohibitive and the few games I have been to were the usual mix of ineptitude and big talk ending in defeat caused by the poorness of the officials or the fact that the wind was blowing or a helicopter flew over the ground or a dog ate the star strikes kit so he had to play in his underwear or some other piffle to cover the fact that neither the management or the team are good enough to cut the mustard.
I watch on TV now and still the mediocrity carries on, these lot need reminding that they should be passing to the chaps in the same coloured shirts as them and that short sharp passes are much preferable to thirty yard 'money shot' passes which invariably go nowhere. Also it may be worth the team remembering that the idea is to get the ball in the net between the goalposts not to hit a bloke eating a pie in Row Z.
No matter what though, much as I've tried to ignore the results, I can't stop caring about how they get on. For better or worse they are my team and I can't let go.
ttfn