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This is probably the real beginning of the legend. Jimmy tossed out the idea of going to Newcastle to see Southampton. Hmmmm...Newcastle in February? To see Southampton, who can claim Kevin Phillips and a host of sidekicks? None too appealing. On further inspection however there were a few favourable omens. Firstly, the roundtrip price to London was a measly $277 tax included. Taking into account the handsome frequent flier bonus and the fact that I hated my job and it looked like the beginnings of a plan.
The stage was set.
The participants were myself, Silent Mark, Jimmy and Rebecca (his girlfriend). The trip over was easy enough since we got to utilize the Admiral's club thanks to Jimmy's executive platinum status. Of course he was busy working while the three of us were having a couple of cocktails. The plane was nice and empty, enabling us to spread out a little. Once we reached the gloomy damp that was London, the unpleasant necessity of renting a car reared its ugly head. What had seemed easy in theory didn't seem like such a great idea now, especially with my discomfort of driving in general and driving in a foreign country on the other side of the road in particular. Silent Mark played the hero by offering to take the first shift (little did he know what was in store for him). 5 hours later and we were back in Newcastle. A quick lunch at the pub nearest the MalMaison gave us some sustenance, especially since we recognized the bartender from our previous visit (a young local we had christened 'Pimp Daddy' for some obscure reason).
Naturally it was off to the Strawberry to meet up with Bob and Mike. All the old cast of characters were still there, Janice, Neil and Caroline behind the bar with Bob and Mike holding court in front of it. Several pints later and it was off to Chase. Rebecca and Jimmy had to get money and that was the last we saw of them (apparently they got lost, then there was a long line, blah blah). Mark and I ventured off to the Baha Beach Club to win friends and influence people, and having accomplished neither we headed back to the Mal.
Next morning Jimmy was calling at an unearthly hour, but we didn't join them until close to lunch at the Straw. We drank all day and then had some great Indian food at a restaurant on main street (I think it was 'Sitar') before heading to the Baha. The line was preposterous so we went across to the 'Boat', which as its name suggests is actually a nightclub on a ship. This place made the Baha look like a classy joint and would have looked at home in Glasgow. From the tilted floors, losers, bad dancers, awful women on stage and spinning dance floor there was only so much we could laugh at. Eventually the place shut down but we weren't ready to so we went to the bar at the Mal and shut that down around 5:30am. Memorable moments from today = Rebecca ineptly trying to steal a Newcastle glass and getting busted by Janice, then Jimmy having his cigarette grabbed out of his mouth then getting sworn at because it burned the thief, Cockagami..
Game day. We went early to the St. James Park giftshop because Jimmy apparently found some money that he hadn't given to them yet. Then we were banging on the door at the Strawb for them to let us in. We started pounding pints in anticipation while idly watching the snow come down (foreshadowing). There's a useless first division match going on, but at half-time they mention something about a pitch inspection at St. James Park. Now there's some conversation going around the packed Strawb at this point. The 4 Southampton fans standing next to our table start to look distinctly unhappy, and at 2pm when the murmur raged around regarding the game's cancellation they looked unhappier still, though not quite as bad as us. A few minutes later someone who had been talking to them came over to us and wanted to know if he could ask some questions. Upon further review, his name was Colin and he was a reporter for 'The Sun' (the best selling national newspaper in England). Of course we were happy to oblige, hoping that we might crack the sports pages. Things looked up when he said he would send his photographer over. By the time he arrived Rebecca was already a Newcastle Brown Ale casualty, having gone back to the hotel. We had several pictures taken in front of the stadium, then back in for a few more pints with big Mike's sons and Neil. At about 8pm Jimmy and I looked at each other and with unspoken agreement headed out to the hotel to pass out.
5am Monday morning. I'd heard it existed but wasn't keen to make its acquaintance. We bundled all our stuff into the car for the next round of chicken, or who was going to drive. Jimmy volunteered, at least for the first 45 minutes before he admitted defeat and pulled over to fill up the car. Mark took over (thank god) and by some superhuman effort managed to get us all the way to Heathrow, although time really started to tick as we arrived around 11am for our 12pm flight. Rushing to check in, I was shocked to hear my name announced (correctly!) over the tannoy along with Jimmy's and a request to join them at the information desk. Jimmy went as i was still checking in, and my apprehension left as he came back and told us that BBC Radio 5 wanted to interview us. 'I guess that means we made the Sun', I said, before we went up to the newsagent and saw to our disbelief that not only had we made 'The Sun', we were the main story on the back page. This certainly ended the trip on a good note, not least because I was able to triumphantly turn back John Malone's mockery on himself (as usual I might add).