THE FINAL COUNTDOWN
Once the trendy London hangout for what seemed like every pigeon on the planet until some spoilsport introduced a breadcrumb ban, Trafalgar Square is bracing itself for an influx of Magpies. Travelling to that there London for their first cup final since 1999, tens of thousands of Newcastle United fans are expected to congregate around and – depending on how much Newkie Broon they’ve necked and the police presence – possibly in the famous fountain, before their big day out in Wembley on Sunday. It is at this point the previous incarnation of this daily email would make a predictable joke about fans of their opponents Manchester United sitting indoors in the surrounding London suburbs watching Casualty or Ant & Dec’s Saturday Night Takeaway, but we’re all grown up these days and much better than that.
The equivalent of Deera Square in Riyad, where Newcastle’s benevolent Saudi Arabian owners used to stage their public beheadings, Trafalgar Square is expected to be a far more convivial place to be, with optimistic fans desperate for their side to avenge their team’s defeat by Manchester United in the FA Cup final almost a quarter of a century ago. And while they despair at having lost Nick Pope to the Naughty Step, it may be somewhat alleviated by news that Miggy Almirón has just signed a new long-term deal. Standing just 5ft 7in in his socks and with no previous goalkeeping experience, the midfielder might even be some Geordies’ preferred choice to play between the sticks instead of Loris Karius, who has spent the week being primed to complete his redemption arc almost five years after that Big Cup final horror show with Liverpool.
While Manchester United fans will have been delighted to see their team get past Barcelona in Big Vase on Thursday and to tee up a tie against Real Betis in the last 16, the sight of Marcus Rashford limping off with two minutes to go will have been a source of consternation as they try to win their first bauble in six years. Asked if his star striker would be fit for Sunday’s final, Manchester United boss Erik ten Hag said: “I don’t know.” The Dutchman had rather more to say about Newcastle, describing Eddie Howe’s team as “annoying” time-wasters, in a way that may have been meant to sound complimentary but actually seemed anything but. “They do really well,” he blurted. “They’re an annoying team to play against, so we have to find a way to win. They try to annoy you. We have to make sure we play our game and we focus on our game.”
Should their team lose Sunday’s Milk Cup final, Newcastle fans can at least take pride from the fact they would have at least equalled the 2014 heroics of neighbours Sunderland by making it to Wembley for the first Cup final of the season, only to get beaten by a team from Manchester. It might have to do, because many would be unable to drown their sorrows after the imposition of an alcohol ban on LNER trains heading back to the north-east – a move that seems discriminatory and unfair, but one that would almost certainly meet the approval of the famously abstemious club owners many of them so admire.
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QUOTE OF THE DAY
“I have never seen anything like it. I’ll keep my mouth shut so I don’t say what I would really like to do in that moment” – Sevilla keeper Marko Dmitrovic responds after a pitch invader attacked him during PSV’s 2-0 Big Vase win, with the Spaniards progressing 3-2 on aggregate. “He was probably angry about the result and a bit crazy already,” added Dmitrovic. “He tried to hit me and I managed to grab him and wait for security to arrive.”
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FOOTBALL DAILY LETTERS
Re: the late John Motson (yesterday’s Football Daily). At Bisham Abbey, then the headquarters of the England national squad, my team of jobbing journalists played a charity match against the show ponies that were the television commentators, including Alan Parry, Martin Tyler and the man himself. Motty was hilarious, charging around without his spectacles, head down and throwing himself into tackles. Unlike the broadcast version, this Motty cussed and swore, not at the opposition but at what he saw as his own ineptitude. The commentators won comfortably, with the lanky goal-hanger Tyler scoring a hat-trick. Afterwards, Motty was the first to the bar, wallet in hand, buying all us lesser mortals a drink. Top gentleman” – Jon Buss.
Re: delivering the post to footballers (yesterday’s Football Daily letters). My son Harry was a postman in Bournemouth a few years ago and one of the homes in his round was that of then-manager Eddie Howe. He regularly delivered what he took to be coaching videos and when the team first won promotion to the Premier League, he popped a card congratulating Eddie on the achievement through his letterbox. Gentleman Eddie very kindly responded with a handwritten note” – Andy Sherwood.
I only lasted a week as a postman, but I did deliver milk to John Aldridge on many occasions during his Oxford United days. I never met him, but I guess 6am is a bit early for a casual chat with most people (including me)” – Richard O’Hagan.
I didn’t deliver post, but I did deliver loads of papers, and clean a lot of cars. Growing up in classic Birds-of-a-Feather Chigwell, our garden backed on to Geoff Hurst’s post-hat-trick gaff. Not only did this make it prime ‘please mister, can we have our ball back’ territory (we always could), it also put him in the centre of my Cub Scout bob-a-job empire. A public-spirited Mrs Hurst had me cleaning the Escort Mexico in the drive (reg plate GWC 10, apparently for ‘Grand World Cup’) and an abundant selection of boots in the garage, donating at least a shilling and sixpence to the cause. I delivered their morning paper on my regular round and, as an occasional extra, often to the Moores too (GWC 6). Bobby’s order was the classic ‘broadsheet outside, tabloid within’ affair, but seeing as both the M*il and Expr*ss came in huge spyhole-friendly format back then, it was an unusually ineffective defensive tactic” – Tim Lawler.
When I was a kid, in the early-1970s, I had an evening paper round for the evening Liverpool Echo. I was lucky that I had about half of the Liverpool team on my round, including Emlyn Hughes and John Toshack. They were nearly all waiting anxiously to read their ‘school report’ from 48 hours previous: no internet in them days. Confidentiality forbids me from revealing who the worst Christmas tippers were. On a similar note, my mum’s car broke down outside the newsagents in Formby. Howard Kendall lifted the bonnet and had it all sorted in a minute” – Mark Gillett.
Send your letters to the.boss@theguardian.com. And today’s winner of our prizeless letter o’ the day is … Jon Buss.
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