2. (Pain out of the way first). On TV: 1996 FA Cup final - Manchester United 1, Liverpool 0. When Newcastle blew the title that season, I was philosophical. Manchester United had bottled the 91/92 run-in against Leeds, but won the league the following season. Blackburn had fallen short in 93/94 before claiming the PL trophy the year after. My attitude was that NUFC's failure, although immensely disappointing, would be rectified in due course. Manchester United, after all, weren't a patch on the team they'd had in 93/94. Without Schmeichel and Cantona, their highly-touted kids wouldn't have come close to catching Keegan's side.
It was when Cantona won the Cup Final too, scoring the only goal of a dire game, that a sense of dread overcame me. Prior to that point only three teams had won the double during the whole 20th century. I told the mate I watched the game with, 'Now that this lot have won the double, teams will start to be frightened of them. They're not great, but opponents will treat them as though they are, and it'll be the making of them. Now Ferguson looks like a genius even though he isn't. With two trophyless seasons in a row Liverpool and Newcastle could have finished him, but they missed their chance.' (This is the bowdlerized version. At the time I was drunk, and roughly every second word was followed by an obscenity).
I proved dismally correct.
In the flesh: April 2003 - pretty much everything that followed Jenas putting NUFC 1-0 up against Manchester United. Robson's team surrendered its aspirations that day - not only for the game in question, but for the remainder of its life.
1. Moments that felt incredible at the time but proved to be soul-crushing false dawns.
On TV: April 1996, the moment Asprilla put NUFC 3-2 up at Anfield. I thought the English title was heading back to Tyneside.
In the flesh: April 2003 (TS Eliot was right - it is the cruellest month), the moment Jenas put NUFC 1-0 up at home to Manchester United. I thought the team was reviving for a grandstand finish that would pitch them properly into the title race.
Moments that time hasn't soured:
On TV: 17th September 1997, Newcastle United 3, Barcelona 2. Shearer injured, but Asprilla scores a hat-trick on the club's Champions League proper debut. My hopes of being able to celebrate a trophy with my father were never fulfilled. This was the closest the two of us came to being able to share the perfect footballing moment.
In the flesh: 20th April 2002, Newcastle United 3, Charlton Athletic 0. The victory left NUFC needing one point from four games to qualify for the Champions League again. With ten minutes left and the score at 2-0, Alan Shearer scored his 200th Premier League goal and the roof came off. My father had died 18 days before, and while that loss is irreplaceable, it was a great comfort to be able to attend the stadium where he'd watched his first game in the 1940s, in the same stand he'd formerly frequented, and laud a Geordie hero to equal Jackie Milburn, whose career my dad had the privilege of watching from beginning to end. Shearer had begun the season recovering from a second knee operation in twelve months. At 31, it had seemed he might be finished. Instead, here he was scoring his 19th league goal of the season and we had the chance to roar out our pride in him, not just for his goals, but for representing many of the best qualities Geordies like to see in ourselves.
I hope I live to see an even better Geordie footballer wearing the number nine shirt.