Diary of Gabriel Obertan (aged 23 and 3/5ths)

Monday 24th September 2012
Late getting to the training ground today. I was stuck on the inside lane of the dual carriageway. Could have just sped up and passed xenical best place to buy traffic but I didn’t feel safe doing so.

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Went to an all you can eat buffet afterwards. Benny nipped in and out the queue picking up everything he wanted but I played it safe and stayed in the queue. Missed out on the spring rolls. Again.

Tuesday 25th September 2012
Went to training this morning. I saw Jonas heading towards the last exercise bike. I could have beaten him to it but let him have it.

Boss told me he wants me to be more assertive and get past other players. I told him I’d try. I’ll get the exercise bike!

Went to Nando’s afterwards. I decided to be more assertive and told them what I wanted straight away. The traffic warden told me I couldn’t park my car on double yellows outside the restaurant.

Wednesday 26th September 2012
Boss told me that he was going to play me today. I told him I was going to be assertive just like he asked.

At Old Trafford and in the changing room, Carver told me to get past players with my pace. I ran out onto the pitch first.

Getting the hand of this assertiveness now.

The Classless Club

Much has been made of Newcastle United’s lack of class by our nearest and dearest down the road as they postulate in bars and pubs why Newcastle Football club is the epitome of debasement.

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It seems to emanate from the highest echelons of the boardroom and drip down to the average supporter and no matter how well we perform as a club or as individuals, our ability to rise above the muck is lambasted by the red and white of Sunderland.

But have you ever wondered why we are viewed as such?

First of all, blame Agent Ashley who robs money off mug Mags who can’t see that they’re being taken for a ride as we’re all gullible and culpable by lining his pockets and attending matches at the Sports Direct Arena whilst wearing the monochrome colours and feeding his Greggs addiction.

It’s a far cry from that magic carpet ride that we must all look on and envy.

If only we had an owner like Mr. Short who has a wallet as big as his colossal heart and doesn’t seem to spend money in the pursuit of success but rather it’s spent on the happiness of his clubs beloved supporters. Sure, we may deem it to have been frittered away but he’s making sure that the finances of the local hostelries are bolstered and that’s just the nature of the man. A true philanthropist if ever this was one.

Take note Mike. You have much to learn.

Then we come down to the manager, the infamous antichrist, Alan Pardew whose job remit covers the tasks of saying yes to the Board and lying to the fans. Note to that he’s quite blatantly a petulant man and given his angry disposition for grabbing 4th officials by the neck and strangling them till near death when something doesn’t go his way only highlights it.

What we need is a quiet and diligent manager who abstains from the limelight and simply lets his team take the plaudits if they record consecutive accutane alternative victories and remains quiet and diligent when his team record back to back losses. We need a manager like O’Neill to bring us out of the doldrums. You can tell he really cares.

That Graham Carr character is such a ‘low life’ that all he does is travel around Europe upsetting players and clubs by offering derogatory sums. Irrespective that most of these players are useless and wouldn’t get into a Sunderland squad it just isn’t the ‘done thing’ to upset people in this way. We all have to get along and if a club says a player is worth X, well then you have to pay it.

I’ll be honest. I don’t have a clue who scouts their players but all I can surmise is that he’s as holy as the Pope and gives all his money to orphans and endangered animals.

Now it’s the players turn to kop a wallop from those more worthy and moral than us. How can we applaud players, let alone retain them when one of them nearly beat a ball boy into a coma for not reacting fast enough, one of them would be more at home in a Guy Ritchie movie than a football field, one of them broke another players jaw, one of them went on strike to join us and several have endangered lives with reckless driving.

If you tell a footballer enough times that ‘No means no’, they will begin to understand eventually that behaviour such as that cannot be tolerated. Newcastle city centre is a far safer place to park your car without it being keyed since the gauntlet was laid down and repeat offenders absconded abroad to continue their nefarious acts.

Finally I arrive at us, the fans themselves.  Be us a work mate, house mate or someone using public transport to arrive at Ponteland International airport, our delusion grates on those with Red and White faith. Our sheer blindness to a cause creates unrest and makes small children and mothers cry out loud “Why can they not see what they are doing?”

I think it’s simple at the end of the day why we are based as ‘unclassy’. We seem to merit success higher. We look upon competition as the be all and end all of our sporting ambition and this has been causing social division between us and those more fortunate down the road. Perhaps if we all just treated it as a day out with the kids, friends and family and sat back and just enjoyed the cheesy chips and knock down priced beer and just glanced at the TV screens as a passing interest then we’d be accepted more.

To paraphrase JFK, “Ask not what your club can do for you, ask what time your club is on the TV.”

Until we all change, this just shows that the core of the club is rotten and as we decay in a morass of morale depravity and delude ourselves that things are OK in the land of the Mag, we only hurt ourselves and demean the true spirit of football. We are a disgrace.