The train rumbled out of Priesthill just after 11am toward Glasgow. Pre-season friendlies rarely inspire this kind of excitement, but after a difficult week in the transfer market, I was looking foreword to a few beers and see the lads turn out at the start of a new season.
By the time it pulled into Glasgow Central, it was clear this was going to be one of those days. Ruddy was already in the pub, a Wetherspoons of course, surrounded by the Newcastle United fans who had taken over Glasgow. It was all Newcastle. Everywhere.
It didn’t matter that this was just a friendly. It didn’t matter that the weather couldn’t decide if it was July or November. It didn’t even really matter that Newcastle had spent the past week losing out on another top striker target, this was about the ritual — the shirts, the songs, the beers, the buzz of a new campaign just over the horizon.
The pubs in the city were soon overflowing with black-and-white. Some wearing the latest shirt, others brought their best 90s away tops. By 2 p.m., the singing had properly kicked in and the windows of Argyle Street rattled.
There was a strange optimism in the air, not the kind that expected a result, but the kind that’s fuelled by pints and the sheer joy of being part of something again.
We boarded the train to Dalmarnock with a chorus of chants from the Geordie faithful. Ruddy talking to a few more fans who’d managed to get tickets in the home ends as the 10,000 a location had sold out. You could see Celtic Park from the station, looming on the horizon in green.
Sat in the home end, not ideal, but we hadn’t been able to get in the away allocation, we tried to keep our heads down. It didn’t take long for the silence to settle. Celtic, sharper, quicker, and far more composed, tore through Newcastle with an ease that was honestly hard to watch. The 4-0 final scoreline didn’t flatter them. For Newcastle, it was a defensive shambles and a midfield vacuum, the kind of pre-season result that can’t be written off entirely.
There was no Isaac, no Joelinton, and only one new signing. Just a flat 90 minutes and more questions about what kind of squad Eddie Howe will be working with come August. Pre-season is supposed to be about rhythm and re-integration. Instead, Newcastle looked leggy, disjointed, and eerily unambitious.
Leaving Celtic Park, the mood had shifted. The songs were quieter now. The train ride back to Glasgow was a bit more subdued and long, But Ruddy and I found our way into Innis and Gunn. Steak frites, twice. And a few more beers helped with the glum mood.
“Still,” I said between mouthfuls, “better than the last time we met when we got turned over by Bournemouth at St James’ Park.”
We laughed. It was right.
The thing about following Newcastle is that it’s never just about the match. It’s about the mates, the movement, the shared belief that next week, or next window, or next season, it might all click. Today was frustrating, sure, but it was still a proper day out, and we’ll still be there when the season kicks off for real.
That’s the thing with Newcastle fans. We’re not always rewarded for our faith, but we never stop showing up.
Even in Glasgow. Even for a friendly. Even for 4-0.
