#newcastle match today

[worldnews90]

Newcastle hanging on after Yates scores Forest’s third – latest

Good afternoon and welcome to live coverage of Newcastle United vs Nottingham Forest from the Premier League as Eddie Howe’s men look to close the gap in the race for Champions League football. 

Newcastle are currently sat in eighth but would climb up to fifth and go within three points of Nuno Espirito Santo’s side, who are in third, with victory this afternoon. The hosts would also go level on points with Manchester City in fourth ahead of the champions’ clash with leaders Liverpool later on this afternoon.  

Meanwhile, a win for Forest would see them go seven points clear of Bournemouth and Chelsea in fifth and sixth, respectively, and would take them just three points shy of Arsenal after their title hopes were dealt a blow with defeat against West Ham United on Saturday. 

[torch-the-throne]

I mean I wish he hadn't been hit in the face, obvs, but smirking as he's heckled by Forest fans before wiping away his own blood was Something

[clockend]

played baldur’s gate 3 for liek seven hours didnt even look at todays ucl games. it starts tomorrow for ME

[soundslivemagazine]

The music industry has a funding problem

Earlier this month, Newcastle-based indie singersongwriter Sam Fender released his fourth studio album, People Watching, and embarked on a week of media duties talking about what influenced the new album. In an interview with the Sunday Times, Fender talked about his working class upbringing, and how difficult it was for an artist without a moneyed background to make it in the music industry today.

Sam Fender. Hannah Victoria Kenyon for Strong Island.

“The music industry is 80 percent, 90 percent kids who are privately educated,” he said. “A kid from where I’m from [North Shields, Newcastle, UK] can’t afford to tour, so there are probably thousands writing songs that are ten times better than mine, poignant lyrics about the country, but they will not be seen because it’s rigged.”

It was like a lit match to tinder. Many artists spoke up confirming that they were currently facing challenges staying afloat in the music industry despite hitting many of the milestones that traditionally looked like success in the music industry. Many talked about how funds were the main things separating them from their peers who had ‘made it’. Many others have talked about how money has hindered them from taking steps that would greatly advance their music careers.

Beloved artists like Little Simz and Rachel Chinouriri have over the last few years had to cancel international tours that would never add up for an independent artist without the backing of a major label, or great personal expenses. Songwriter Kate Nash, who was in the news recently for turning to OnlyFans to sell pictures of arse to fund her upcoming tour in a campaign she called ‘Butts For Tour Buses’, estimated that the production cost of each show she puts on a single night, costs her about $10,000. A cost even half of that would be devastating to a kid starting out in music with no savings.

Little Simz. Dave J. Hogan/Getty Images

There is another aspect to this discussion. Last week, British indie songwriter Ellie Dixon was asked on her social media about the phrase ‘industry plant’, a highly contentious word meant to indicate that an artist has not authentically reached the level of success they are at, and instead owe it all to some undisclosed industry connections that were allowing them access to avenues of career growth unfairly.

On surface level, this would seem to be something that only adds to the woes of independent, hard-working musicians, once again locked out of opportunities that should’ve rightfully been theirs if only some golden child with the right connections hadn’t swooped in and snatched their livelihood right out of their hands. In reality, who and what this ‘industry plant’ really is, is less clear. Often, it is used as a catch-all phrase to indicate that you don’t think someone deserves the plaudits they are receiving. But whether or not a certain kind of music is inherently deserving of success or not can only ever be a matter of subjective taste, and so something as concrete as having insider connections, becomes a matter of opinion where stylistic preferences become equated with worth, and the word loses all meaning.

Rolling Stone magazine, in a recent article defending the rising rap star Doechii, wrote a good piece about how the phrase is being misused to discredit artists who have put in all the work themselves over the years, only to be unfairly torn down by people’s fundamental misunderstanding of the phrase.

Doechii receives her Grammy for Best Rap Album. Photo by Kevin Winter/Getty Images for The Recording Academy.

Money in music is a really important conversation to have, namely in that it is simply not possible to sustain a career in this (or any) industry without it, and that artists, the backbone of the industry, have seen increasingly diminishing returns on it. We find ourselves returning to the music industry of old, where as rents go up and incomes for independent artists dry up, many musicians find that it makes sense for them to rely on traditional record label deals.

This has been enough for many people to start lobbing the accusations of ‘industry plant’, somehow mistaking having a label put any investment into an artist as some sort of insideous and undeserved, unfair advantage, as if the music industry was exclusively meant to be run from bedrooms of one and from behind YouTube and TikTok accounts.

If anything, artist development is only a recently neglected area by labels, opting to let artists themselves be the creators, marketers, publicists, cinematographers, bookers, promoters, merch and poster graphic designers and much more, all on that lucrative label budget of $0.00.

Who can afford to do all that? An artist that can either afford not to have a full-time job outside of their self-employed music career, or someone who can afford to pay others.

Which brings me back to the discussion about wealth in music. Sam Fender was completely right when he spoke out about how hard it is for working class artists to break through. The Dublin-based singer CMAT (incidentally, on tour supporting Fender at the moment) talked about how she wanted to write a guide on how working class musicians can make it in this treacherous industry, because to realise that everyone living your dream is doing it on the back of wealth you can never cough up is quite demotivating. Working class artists slog for a decade before being recognised at the level that the backing of a label could achieve in a year, there is no hiding from this. (Also, CMAT only half-jokingly said this but she is right: rich kid music also just lacks bite. There’s an urgency and potency to working class music that genuinely holds up a mirror to society that an artist who doesn’t have to face every aspect of the world sometimes simply cannot put into words in the same way. It is absolutely crucial that we do not lose working class voices in art.)

CMAT live. Sean McMahon

So really, we need to focus less on tearing down working class artists with unfounded accusations of being ‘industry plants’, something that also seems to disproportionately be levelled at women, musicians of colour, queer artists and other marginalised communities by men who cannot understand their success, and focus more on preserving the funding and pathway programmes that have historically tried to place working class artists on the same footing as richer artists.

The problem with the music industry isn’t so-called industry plants�� it’s that funding in music stays at the top while grassroots artists suffer. Spotify CEO Daniel Ek is reportedly worth 7.5 billion USD, while Canada has lost 15% of its small music venues since the beginning of 2020. The UK, where the Music Venue Trust keeps clearer track of the state of grassroots music venues, reports that the UK loses a grassroots venue every two weeks currently. When burgeoning young talent don’t have the venues to hone their talent, make their mistakes and develop their sound and stage presence, future stars are lost forever, working class or otherwise.

So good on Sam Fender. Himself a working class kid, he’s done something good for working class musicians everywhere even just by starting this important conversation with a platform as large as he has built for himself.

[dreaamerwrites]

[ (just a) bad day ]

couple: son heungmin x reader rating: PG tags: hurt, comfort, talks about beheading (yeah) from the drama my liberation notes. notes: the newcastle game was a massacre. i don't have the heart to have him say "i'm alright, i'm fine" because he wouldn't lie like that. but i just need to know that heungmin will have someone hold him tight and take him home. please listen to agust d's snooze, that's what i had quoted at the end. thanks. please support son heungmin's future. it will get better.

/

Before the final whistle blows, you are already down the tunnel, down the hall, expression grim as you scan the treatment room. Ryan finds you like this, his own expression ashen, having aged ten years through the match himself.

He’s in Treatment Room A. Hesitation. …I think he wants to be alone.

You thank Ryan but pay no heed to the message.

He’s not the one you need to see.

/

“Don’t.”

It is the first word shared in that dim, empty room and it forces you to stop in your tracks. Heungmin’s voice is rough and torn and tight. Your hand falters by the light switch before, finally, falling back to your side. You let him sit in the darkness, face illuminated only by the faint light that hums above the emergency exit.

You can barely recognize him in the darkness, but still you go to him.

“Don’t,” he repeats, more forcefully this time. “Stop.”

Still, you go to him.

From where he sits, his knees bump against your thighs and he resolutely refuses to give way. You step into his space regardless. As your eyes adjust to the darkness, his face finally comes into view. He has screwed his eyes shut now, mouth pressed into a grim line. You reach up to trace the faint scar above his eye, but hesitate, not quite touching him just yet.

You’ve been through so much.

What can I do to make this better?

Tell me where it hurts. I would take it all away if I could.

The words sit on the very tip of your tongue but you swallow them down. They are not the words he wants or needs to hear right now. He does not need to hear you ask how he feels or if he’s alright or if this is still the game that he has loved his whole goddamn life. He does not need your sympathy. He does not need your pity.

Right now, all he needs is…

“So. Bad day, huh?”

Your comment seems to come as such a surprise that he chokes out a pained laugh despite himself.

The sound is so sudden that it seems to startle the both of you equally – and then Heungmin’s eyes are open and he’s staring at you, eyes shining, disbelief clear as day on his face.

“What?” he chokes out, half-laugh and half-groan.

The pain is still evident on his face and this time you let yourself touch the scar. You press down on it slightly, tracing it with the very tip of your finger. He slowly reaches up, long fingers wrapping around your wrist. You half expect him to push your hand away.

He doesn’t.

He lets you linger there, his grip warm around your wrist and your touch gentle against his skin.

“Yeah,” he finally whispers back, incredulous laughter gone now. Something softening in his expression. “Had a real shit day today.”

You let your hand slide down until your palm cradles his cheek. He moves with you, grip never leaving yours as he leans into your touch. He swallows thickly and you can hear it in the silence that sits between you. Your own eyes prickle with the heat and promise of oncoming tears, but you swallow that down with him too.

His hair is still damp from the showers and he smells of your shampoo. A stray droplet lands on the back of your hand. Still, you do not move away.

“I know,” you whisper into the darkness. “I know.”

(You had been watching a drama a few months back.

The woman on the television screen had a crazed look in her eyes, sitting across the cafe table from her blind date, explaining why she was dubbed the Pick Up Girl by all of her friends.

Once, with my friends, we were talking about what true love was. I was reminded of something I saw in a textbook when I was a child. It was about a woman who ran to pick up the severed head of her husband in her skirt.

When I was young, it was too gruesome for me to understand. But now, as an adult, I found myself agreeing. Yes, I would pick it up. I would have to pick it up. I can’t let it fall to the ground, I must catch it in my skirt.

Heungmin had burst out laughing, then. The man sitting across from her in the scene appeared horrified, but Heungmin had only appeared delighted.

He had pressed a loud raspberry to the side of your neck then.

“Would you catch me too?” he had teased, nosing into the crook of your shoulder, your neck, your jaw, mouth dragging along the skin there as he laughed loudly. You had laughed back, shivering at the ticklish touch.

It had been a joke then.

But today, you were reminded of it.

Perched in the stands, watching his team go down in flames. Watching the light leave his eyes as more and more fans exited the stadium. Watching as his shoulders heaved beneath the heavy weight of loss and failure and disappointment.

Several family members had looked away by then. His agent had slumped back in his seat, scrolling through his phone anxiously, clearly anticipating the press and media that would be awaiting him at the end of the tunnel.

Only Heungmin’s father and you had kept watching.

You did not look away. You refused to look away. Even when the booing only grew exponentially in volume, even when his teammates fumbled yet another horrible, horrible ball. You kept your eyes on the game, you kept your eyes on him. Only when his number appeared on the screen to be subbed out, did you finally let out the breath you had been holding.

Heungmin hadn’t spared a second glance towards your box when he was subbed out. You couldn’t blame him. He probably hadn’t had the heart to look.

If he had looked… if he had looked back at you…

If he had looked back: he would’ve seen you looking right back at him. He would’ve seen you finally, slowly, sitting back down in your seat, his father taking his seat beside you as well.

His father hadn’t said much in the box – he never did.

But when his hand had found yours in your lap, grip tight, you knew he was saying more than words ever could.

Thank you. Thank you for watching Heungmin until the very end. Thank you for catching Heungmin, even when the world waits to tear him apart, limb by limb. Thank you. Thank you.

If your throat hadn’t been so tight, you would’ve responded: Don’t thank me. I will always watch him. I will always catch him.

Instead, you had simply covered his hand with your own.

The truest love there ever was.)

Heungmin finally shifts. He parts his legs, lets you slide between them until you are flush against him, even from where he sits on this treatment table.

You let both of your arms reach up and around his neck, wrapping around his shoulders, his own dropping to fold around your waist. His grip is almost painfully tight as he burrows into you, solid and warm. His heartbeat thrums in your ear and you match your own breaths to the sound.

“I know,” you repeat again, voice muffled against the soft fabric of his tee. “I’m here, I’m right here.”

He holds onto you like a man drowning.

I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. I promise.

“Let’s go home.”

/

Everything will be okay, everything will be okay Everything will be okay, everything will be okay Everything will be okay, everything will be okay Everything will be okay, everything will be okay

[the-offside-rule]

Anthony Gordon (Newcastle United) - The Forward Type

Requested: yes

Prompt: this ask

Warnings: none

The bright morning sun shone over Newcastle's training grounds as both the men's and women's teams gathered for their respective sessions. Y/n, one of the star players for Newcastle United Women, stretched on the pitch alongside her teammates, preparing for the upcoming session. She couldn't help but notice the lively banter from the men's team across the way. Among them, Anthony Gordon stood out. His blonde hair and confident swagger caught her attention, and she found herself glancing over every now and then. They’d seen each other around the training ground before, but today felt different. His eyes seemed to linger a little longer whenever they met hers.

As Y/n went through her drills, she noticed Anthony sneaking looks in her direction, throwing her a playful wink when their eyes met again. She chuckled to herself, pretending to ignore him, but the butterflies in her stomach were hard to dismiss. During a quick water break, the women’s and men’s teams gathered by the sidelines, briefly sharing the space. Anthony, seemingly without hesitation, sauntered over to Y/n. “You know-” He started with a grin. “If you want a photgraph, you can just ask. It'll last longer.” Y/n raised an eyebrow, sipping from her bottle. “Was about to say the same to you. Caught you staring.” He laughed, nudging her shoulder lightly. “You got jokes, I see. Wanted to say, that was a serious volley you scored a few minutes ago.” She smiled.

“Is this your way of flirting?” She asked as the other girls walked away, leaving the pair alone. “Is it working?” She shrugged. “How about you come to the next match and I show you a thing or two?” He smiled. “Asking me out? You're very forward.”

“Well, if you don't want to-”

“I didn't say that.” She grinned, leaning in a bit closer. “So? Do you want to come?” She nodded. “Onky if you score a volley like I just did.” She teased. “One? I'll make it worth your while, I'll score two.” She rolled her eyes playfully. “I’ll hold you to that.” Her coach called her over. “I'll be at the game. See you then.” Y/n said, turning to run away back towards training. “Remember! Two volleys!”

From then on, every time they crossed paths during training, a new flirtation would unfold. A cheeky comment here, a smirk there. It didn’t take long for the rest of their teammates to catch on. Occasionally, they’d pass near each other during warm-ups, sharing inside jokes that made their teammates raise their brows.

Soon, the playful exchanges were picked up by fans on social media. Clips of them laughing together, or Anthony standing a little too close to Y/n during training, started circulating online. Dating rumors exploded. Comments speculating about a possible relationship between them filled Twitter, TikTok, and Instagram. Neither of them acknowledged the gossip, but privately, the rumors only made the connection between them more intense.

Weeks passed, and Newcastle United Women’s team found themselves in the final of the Women’s Champions League. Y/n had been instrumental throughout the competition, and the entire club rallied behind them, including the men’s team. The night of the final arrived, and the electric atmosphere in the stadium was palpable. The stands were packed, including Anthony Gordon, who sat with some of his teammates, nervously watching Y/n from the crowd.

Y/n had one of the games of her life, delivering an assist and scoring a crucial goal, leading Newcastle United Women to a thrilling 3-2 victory, crowning them champions of Europe. The moment the final whistle blew, the stadium erupted in cheers. Her teammates embraced one another, tears and laughter mixing in the emotional aftermath of their hard-fought victory.

As Y/n stood in the middle of the pitch, her heart pounding with adrenaline and joy, she spotted Anthony walking toward her, weaving through the celebrating crowd. Without a second thought, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, grinning from ear to ear. “You were unreal out there!” He shouted over the cheers, his eyes shining with pride. Y/n smiled, her face flushed from the match and the moment. “Not bad, huh?”

They began walking together, Anthony’s arm still draped around her. But as they reached a quieter part of the pitch, something shifted. Anthony’s usual confidence seemed to waver, and he looked down, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “You know…” He started, his voice quieter now. “I’ve been meaning to tell you something for a while.” Y/n turned to face him, her pulse quickening as she noticed the nervousness in his eyes. She felt the same fluttering she had during their first banter at training, but this time, it felt more real.

“What is it, Anthony?”

He looked away for a moment, gathering his thoughts. He took a step closer, his hand slipping from her shoulder to gently cup her face. Without another word, they both leaned in, their lips meeting in a soft but passionate kiss, the world around them fading away. For a brief moment, it was just the two of them, lost in the quiet confession they had both been holding back for so long.

When they pulled apart, still smiling, they were startled by the sound of cheers and whistles. Turning around, they realized the stadium cameras had caught the entire moment, broadcasting their kiss on the big screen for all to see. The crowd, including their teammates, erupted into even louder cheers.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” She smiled, leaning into his touch. “Well, you always have been the forward type.”

Anthony flushed, laughing nervously. “Guess we’re not keeping this a secret anymore.” Y/n grinned, her hand slipping into his. “I don’t think we ever were.”

[unitedbydevils]

Match Review: Wolverhampton Wanderers 2-0 Manchester United

Merry Christmas, United fans. For fuck sake...

As the black sheep of a Wolves family... this one hurts. I know they're something of a bogey team for us, but today United were woeful.

Amorim is taking a lot of criticism for how he lined up and whatnot, but is he really at fault? You could see the frustrations from Hojlund today - people taking far too long to make a pass or not looking at their goal threat making moves. It's so, so poor.

United being with 10-men explains why we fell slightly behind Wolves for possession, but the quality of our play was very "meh". 80% pass accuracy vs 83% of near-relegation Wolves. Awful. That said, with our form... we're becoming a relegation battle side.

There have been some positives, like Ugarte, Mazraoui, De Ligt, and of course Amad, but that's about it. A lot of people have been very poor - and some who we know there's more to come from.

Kobbie Mainoo is one such example. He's young, and I want him to stay, but Kobbie is not doing great at the moment. The obvious answer is to start playing Casemiro more, but it feels like - based on the rumours - INEOS want him out the door because of his wages. He's paid a lot, too much I'd say, but of anyone in our team on big money he's the one who historically has earned it. He could do a job at the moment, and we're harming ourself if that is the case (as opposed to Amorim just not rating him).

United were lacklustre at best and offensive at worst. We looked devoid of confidence, ideas, motivation, and effort. The problem is that while it's difficult learning a new system, there's still basics of football that you have to accomplish, and those things aren't being achieved.

Specific personnel also have to take blame. CAPTAIN Bruno Fernandes, on a yellow card, getting a second booking moments into the second half? Un-fucking-believable. And not just that, wholly unnecessary. A needless tackle that threw the game. This is exactly the shit that gets him abuse, because he can be petulant, stroppy, and in this case clumsy. Do better, be better.

Andre Onana also comes in for criticism. Two goals conceded from corners in the space of a week or so? Unreal. It's not heard of, and it's not suddenly United being targeted. This is how people challenge keepers and getting in the way, and yet Onana just wilts under the same pressure that we criticised Bayindir for faltering at and bang, repeat goal.

I hinted at the idea of doing a squad keep/sell list, and that will be the next post. As Andy Mitten (above) says - you get the feeling that most of the squad are rightly for sale because this is god awful.

I watched this match with friends at their house and said when Cunha was skinning our players in the first half: this is the game that will be shown when United sign Cunha. This was the moment. And it was a top performance. He showed pace, guile, and goal threat. We're crying out for this, and in that left 10 aside Hojlund today he'd have been immense. Maybe one for the summer, especially if Wolves get relegated.

If, after listening to the wise words of Andy, you want to punish yourself, then the match "highlights" are below.

Next up are Newcastle at 8pm on Monday 30th. Given our form... another defeat. Then it's Liverpool on the 5th... another defeat. And then it's Arsenal in the FA Cup... another defeat. This is going to get worse before it gets better.

[bolton-buried]

I still kinda wish we had something different to do episode three on than, well. You know. Not least of all because someone else had to take the footage.

But here it is.

[[Video ID:

Harold stands in front of the camera. His black coat drips water like someone has just dumped a bucket of water on him, and his bangs completely cover his eyes, only allowing the camera to see the bottom half of his dark features.

“This is not my side of the camera, but I was asked to open today’s video, due to my personal connection to the subject matter. When I was 11, my father developed a Hyde-esque alter ego, which drove him into a murderous fury whenever he encountered something paranormal. I was one of those things. Enough said.”

Cut to black. White text reads “Footage of this portion is unavailable, due to Charlotte’s failure to remove the camera lens cover.”

Charlotte’s voice can be heard.

“Mr. Bolton, can you please, in your own words, tell us about when this began?”

A gruff, masculine voice responds.

“A dozen years ago. I was hunting with an old pal of mine. Sorry, you said Harold is here? He can’t come in—he knows what I’ll—”

“Yes, we’re quite aware of that. Now please, your story?”

“Errr, yes, right. This force—I couldn’t see it—knocked me over. For a moment I imagined it was a wolf, which clawed at my chest, but my chest was fine afterwards, so that was just my imagination.”

“And after that?”

“That’s when I realized that my hunting friend was made of cockroaches.”

Cut to:

Talking head of Angie, a woman with blonde curls under a bandanna, dressed like a psychic medium. She is holding a piece of paper.

“According to news reports of the time, Nicholas Bolton went on to kill two people: his hunting companion, and a steward on the train he took back. Both bodies were found to be highly abnormal in autopsies. Though we were unable to access the autopsies ourselves, various sources reference the companion’s skin being found hollowed with a few insects nearby, and the steward’s was found to be just skin, all the way down.

“After reaching his home village north of Newcastle, Bolton went on to attempt to shoot his own son, chasing him with a rifle until the child fell in a river.”

Angie looks up, and her expression becomes agitated.

“Stop making that face—I’m reading the script, you don’t have to look all—”

Cut to black.

Back in the prison, but we actually have footage this time. The man on the other side of the glass is pale, but his hair is the same shade as Harold’s—and greasy enough to match the color of Harold’s hair being wet.

“I don’t know what to tell you. Just sometimes, when I meet someone, they have a smell about them, and then I start to see red, and then the next thing I know I’m standing over a corpse.”

“Interesting, so would you say you—”

Charlotte is cut off by a slight commotion, through which Desmond can be heard apologizing. The camera turns to show that he has tripped slightly on entering, and is regaining his balance.

“Dez! You’re not supposed to come in, with your—”

“I know, I know.” Dez waves her concern off. “I still wanted to meet my future in-law. Is that such a crime? Plus, he doesn’t seem to be reacting.”

The camera pans back to Mr. Bolton. He is still seated, calmly as before.

“In-law? You mean…”

Cut to black. White text reads “Irrelevant footage removed.”

Footage resumes with a talking head of Charlotte.

“We were unable to get much information from Mr. Bolton that isn’t already public knowledge. I wish I could share a closing word to recommend you all a way to avoid similar instances, but I don’t have any.”

The video seems to be ending somewhat abruptly, but then it cuts into a familiar, LED-lit room, with Dez front and center.

“Okay, so, nothing on the stalker front. I think it left when I went to speak with Nic—meaning it’s not mindless. Makes my life harder.

“I’ve been turning the angel over in my head. I mentioned the letters to Nic, and they were his originally. I don’t think he’s the angel—he’s too much a hunter.

“The angel is an avatar of the web. Hence the manipulation, and the spiders that seem to end up all over certain areas. That rules out Nic, Angie, and Charlotte, at least. I believe they did know Harry in-person at one point, which gives me three primary suspect groups.

“Institute employees, villagers up north, and people who attended Uni with Harold.

“I’m onto you, itsy-bitsy. Watch your back. Or did you forget what happens to you when it rains?”

[mariachastain]

What. A. Match.

Wow...I don't know about the rest of you, but between the time change and the edge of my seat soccer match I just watched, I need to go lie down.

In case you missed it, I am talking about Liverpool vs. Man City. It was epic. It began with the booming unison of voices singing "You'll Never Walk Alone" and it never cooled down. My heart breaks because Liverpool should have won. They had the better chances. Luis Diaz will rue those chances he missed. I can't even be mad at him, however, because he had some of the most beautiful runs down the side of the pitch that I have ever seen. And Mo Salah just seemed to be a step off his mark; I can only imagine how the game might have ended if he had been up to his regular hijinks.

It was a beautiful weekend of late goals, with my favorite being the late looping Luton header by Woodrow to tie it up with about 20 seconds left in the match. It cancelled out the cheekiest goal of the season. A nice back heel by Palace player Mateta.

One game left tomorrow. Chelsea vs. Newcastle. Please just make it as entertaining as today's game was.

[underwater-i-will-go]

personally i think these two make quite the pair.

age gap of a whole decade, one with a potentially big future ahead, the other, who's had a rocky path to success, still wildly under appreciated, feels like despite working hard for newcastle now, he'll never get the recognition he thinks he deserves. was that selfish of him?

matchday at saint james's park. they're up against burnley - a club that's spent a season in the championship and has now fought its way back up. weird match that is for nick. he's started his senior career at this club, has made more memories there than he has now at newcastle, better memories even perhaps. it's not like he's not happy here, after all he's playing champions league now. he's become big, some might say. he's "upgraded" like the younger lads at the club say, miguel at least. thinks that's a good thing, happy he can contribute here and play good games. but he's heard of burnley's new keeper - a very young boy who's delivered a magnificent performance at the u21 euros this year, granting england the win. double penalty save in the 96th minute of the final, keeping a clean sheet throughout the whole tournament, something no one had achieved before him - all the things nick never got to experience. and he knows he never will, at least it's more than unlikely.

"i'm getting old." nick sighs to the man two years his senior sitting next to him whilst tying his boots. "feels like i'll never get be on pickford's level now." kieran smiles. "what's it with you and jordan as of lately? feels like you always bring him up somehow."

"dunno. guess it's cause international breaks coming up again and i'll likely won't get called up again." kieran understands nick's frustration, even when he's older than nick, he still gets favoured by southgate and starts in most games for england. jordan is one of his best friends so he could never talk down his undeniable talent for england, but everyone knows that he won't forever be the country's number one, ramsdale will eventually step up someday. and nick never got there, his age aside, his talent seems to have always been overlooked by southgate, even when he'd been in the squad for as long as jordan had been.

"ah don't worry about it. gareth only calls you up for big things. like the world cups, remember." kieran caresses nick's shoulder, nick letting his head fall on the up of kieran's, almost melting into him in defeat. "or maybe even that new guy. everyone always says he's got the potential to be in the senior squad someday." nick says. kieran raises an eyebrow at him "trafford? yeah, he's no where near ready for that yet man. don't worry."

the match is about to begin - everyone gathers in the tunnel. nick puts on his gloves, notices dan chatting with one of the burnley players, when he suddenly makes eye contact with the new guy, the new keeper. he smiles at nick, to his surprise he's eye to eye with him, nick thought he was much smaller. no words are exchanged, james seems quite intimidated by nick.

after nick had to save a single sloppy ball early into the game, it's gotten quite around newcastle's goal. as expected, burnley didn't exactly have the best restart into the new season. but this gives nick the chance to analyse james's game better. he's doing well, the burnley players getting dominated by newcastle, but james manages to do quite a few good saves, ends up conceding two nevertheless. wonders if he could've done that at his age. probably not. when the final whistle is blown, nick and his teammates make their rounds to applaud the fans after another three points have been collected on this afternoon. james approaches him, pulling off his gloves to go in for a handshake. "well played, always been looking up to you. you're a bit of a legend here at burnley, at least that's what a lot of my teammates say. and i think that too." james smiles. "thanks, means a lot. seen you play in the euros this year. unreal. you were good today." nick says with a smile he's not sure he really means. james's eyes lit up, he's getting flustered. wants to say more to nick but is interrupted by one of his own teammates. their ways part - nick knows he won't forget this small interaction so soon. james probably doesn't quite realise the potential he has, the talent. feels just like when nick was his age, the self doubt was always there.

nick keeps thinking about his age. about how time flies, how despite him being in good health, he will never be a "legend". just another good keeper, never the best. no matter how many more clean sheets he'll play, he'll always be in pickford's and ramsdale's shadow, unable to step out. he knows he's good for newcastle, was good for burnley in his days there, but starting for england in something that's not a nations league game or a random friendly seems impossible to achieve. why is so determined on that anyway? he doesn't know. he knows he should be happy with what he's achieved at his own clubs so far, knows he can do even more. even better. but meeting james today was like looking into a mirror, like teleporting back to when he was his age. 20 years old. seems like an eternity ago. james was confident on the pitch, giving a 100%, saving balls coming at him from players with a lifelong experience. maybe that was just facade. so young. nick pulls his kit off and stares at himself in the mirror for a second. everyone always says he doesn't look his age, could pass for 25ish. maybe they're lying, he doesn't care. he yearns to be young again, being able to turn back time, work harder, have less self doubt. be more confident. be like james. he snaps out of it. is he really jealous of a 20 year old kid right now? embarrassing. "pull yourself together. you're playing champions league on wednesday." he says to himself.

in the shower he keeps thinking of todays events. his age. his future. and james.

[dailyreddevils]

Wolves 0 - 2 United

United pull away from Liverpool in 5th and are tied on points with Newcastle thanks to goals from Anthony Martial and Alejandro Garnacho.

United looked... fine. At times brilliant but the number of times that the phrase “they should have scored that” was uttered was way too many. There were times that United also looked sloppy in defense but all in all, they were able to keep a clean sheet. Talking about clean sheets, Dave did make two mistakes today (giving away a throw in and coming WAY out of his area and leaving the goal completely alone and the finding himself in a situation that he had to pull out of quickly) but luckily, neither of those mistakes resulted in a goal which after what the last few games have been like for him is a true blessing. 

Next up United have an away match to Bournemouth at Vitality Stadium followed by a home match against Chelsea

[soccerpredictions]

Real Madrid and Lyon win in women's Champions League quarter-finals

Real Madrid's 2-0 win over Arsenal. The Spanish team showed their superiority from the start. See More: https://bqkd88.com/4-sai-lam-nghiem-trong-trong-tran-thua-cua-liverpool-truoc-newcastle/ Match today result: https://bqkd88.com/ket-qua-bong-da-hom-nay #RealMadrid #Lyon #football #soccer

[inlikea-coolway]

The irony that this was on my for you page today says it all

Disappointing match, our strategy was clearly worked out by newcastle and we lacked the surprise element.

Anyways YNWA

[cryptoto]

Gary Lineker interacts with the debate in England to the Newcastle Luis Hall star

Gary Linker, the match presenter today, discusses a possible summons in England Newcastle United Louis Hall after the young man got his back on another help in Nutingham Forest. Newcastle prepares for Liverpool in Anfield Magpies will look to continuing from where they stopped when they play Liverpool at Aprielle on Wednesday evening – although they may hope to repeat their performance in the…

[unitedbydevils]

Ashworth gone, Rashford going?

Well, the circus keeps performing...

Dan Ashworth has left his position at Manchester United as Sporting Director by "mutual decision".

The story was broken by The Athletic at the weekend, following United's 3-2 home defeat to Nottingham Forest, which was considered an odd situation as Ashworth had performed his day's duties and attended multiple matches - even bringing his family to Old Trafford for the Forest game.

Rumours in the days since are that a lack of synergy with the vision held by the rest of the club has deemed the former Newcastle director to be surplus to requirement at the club, whilst others have suggested he was the driving force behind the temporary reprieve that Erik Ten Hag received and proposed unimaginative choices for a new manager like Graham Potter, Gareth Southgate and Eddie Howe.

It is unclear if United will move to appoint a new Sporting Director as soon as possible or will be patient to find the right candidate.

Rumours have also come out today surrounding Marcus Rashford and a departure - which could be as soon as next month.

The United forward has had a rollercoaster ride of good form, bad form during his career to date. Some of this can be blamed on the general poor era United are in, managerial changes and tactical adjustments, injuries, maybe even personal life issues... but whatever has been at fault, it has been evident for some time that Rashford isn't firing at the moment.

My personal take is that he needs the confidence of the manager, and for Ruben Amorim to play him for a good run of starts. Alejandro Garnacho has a better G/A return this season but his general play has been poor bar those big moments. Garna has the worst dribble success rate (21.6%) in the Premier League this season (30+ attempted), and might also be mired in scandal imminently around teamsheet leaks to his brother for social media clout.

So yes, I'd give Marcus more starts, bench Garna as punishment/for development purposes, and then go from there and re-assess in the summer.

Should Marcus leave, the obvious destination would be Paris Saint-Germain, but there are also rumours of Barcelona being interested. I'd be surprised if one of the Milan teams wasn't willing, maybe a Leipzig or Dortmund, and then there's also the MLS and Saudi. If Marcus has lost a yard or confidence because of the back breaks for example, a move to sunnier America and being more of a star personality over there could be good for him.

Given his self-sacrifice, I won't demand Rashford be shifted on. It's good for PSR sure, and being Mancunian doesn't equate to the right to play for the club, but he put in the work and played through the pain. That earns him credit in my eyes - even if that means using him as a backup player.

[hamsdd]

Gary Lineker interacts with the debate in England to the Newcastle Luis Hall star

Gary Linker, the match presenter today, discusses a possible summons in England Newcastle United Louis Hall after the young man got his back on another help in Nutingham Forest. Newcastle prepares for Liverpool in Anfield Magpies will look to continuing from where they stopped when they play Liverpool at Aprielle on Wednesday evening – although they may hope to repeat their performance in the…