The Norwegian principal chasing Newcastle United tickets and paying double face value

I recently wrote about the difficulty of getting hold of Newcastle United tickets, as did other fans/contributors to The Mag.

However, this is not a completely new experience for me.

Back in the mid nineties and ticketless I went down to White City tube station ahead of our away game against QPR.

As people left the station heading towards Loftus Road I asked if there were any tickets available. Many of you will recognize the scene when the insecure goblin (me) asks for tickets as people leave the subway station.

A tall well-dressed friendly man pulls up with his wife and son, then declares in perfect English “yes, we have an extra ticket.”

“How much?” is my answer.

He wants double the face value. Ahh! I pay out of desperation.

Main stand ticket proudly clutched, I chat to the guy who has come over from Norway as we head towards the ground.

It turns out that he is the headmaster of a secondary school in Bergen, and as we walk past it, I point to the school where I was a teacher at the time. Formerly Hammersmith Secondary School, with the illuminati of Les Feredinand and Dennis Wise, I was reliably informed.

However, it is now called Phoenix High School, since the kids had tried to burn it down. This is the age of the “Super Head” and Sir William Atkinson had been appointed to turn around the worst school in the country (according to the Sun and Mail).

So it’s goodbye, Norwegian Headteacher, as I walk into a boozer on Bloemfontein Road (General Smuts maybe? It was a long time ago now), half expecting to see the parents of the children from the Estate.

Instead I bump into lads from Gossy and one guy in particular, my sister’s ex and owner of the biggest flag to go down at Exeter (4-0 NUFC thrashing!), as well as being the biggest Clash fan ever.

A good few beers later, I’m up in the main stand, and the expensive ticket means I’m really close Newcastle fanseven though they are surrounded by Rangers boys. The place rocks.

I can see the Gossy guys below me to the right. So close that they spot me and acknowledge me.

The locals around me ask if I’ve come to fight as I passionately show my support for the team. What me? Sat with a Norwegian family in the main stand who love it. There was an energy at that time and I was buzzing.

A few weeks after that fight and after finishing work for the day, I went back to the White City subway station to go home.

There is a floodlit astroturf pitch nearby QPR’s stadium at South Africa Road. Just beyond was the Blue Peter Gardens. The headmaster I worked for used to have a megaphone so he could control the rabble (the kids) or so he thought.

Well these White City Estate youngsters on the astroturf spotted me on my way home and decided to use the megaphone they had stolen earlier in the day… “McPeake you are a wan…, McPeake you are a wan… ” it sounded.

I laughed and waved acknowledgment to them and their wit.

A few years ago I ran into the same White City boys and turns out they are top guys now.