THE gentleman who manages relegation-haunted Newcastle was in an unsmiling mood on Friday. His disposition was not perceptibly sunnier two days later.
Who would have thought that even this deep thinker would be unable to stop the rot? As a coach he is clearly possessed of the eye of the artist and the steely logic of the geometrician.
Indeed, we are all familiar with the famous terrace chant: “He’s got of the eye of the artist and the steely logic of the geometrician – yer knaa.”
The man in question (subeditor to find out his name before next paragraph) was painfully reminiscing about past derby defeats for his team – and what he saw as black-hearted gloating by the victors.
When Sunderland’s then-manager performed a somewhat flamboyant celebration during the pasting of April 2013, Jim Charver was not happy.
Mr Charver said: “When Paolo was sliding on his knees, I’ve never been so agitated in my life.
“I wanted to take the law into my own hands.” You don’t say.
This would appear to be Jack Carvman’s answer to everything.
In March 2013 he had the notion of wedging Wigan’s Callum McManaman after a dodgy challenge by the midfielder. At the club that employs Cheick Tioté, bad tackles are considered dashed bad form.
The suave coach had a similar project in mind at Southampton last September, but on that occasion it was Newcastle’s supporters who were on his hit list.
This was while he was assistant to the even more volatile Alan Pardew.
At Friday’s press conference, Mr Carfland added: “From that day on though, that is something that really motivates and drives me to try to get the right result.”
We thought it necessary to reprint that last sentence, if only to confirm that he actually said it.
He also took exception to the Klinsman style diving celebrations of the Sunderland team following the three easy points at the Sports Direct in December.
We would be interested in his thoughts on the choice of music played by Newcastle’s DJ on a day when they actually beat Sunderland. To assist with gloating, the speakers belted out the Monkees’ Daydream Believer, which was given the inevitable reworking by the home support.
In fairness, that was the last time that Newcastle managed to win a derby at home, so the song may have been in the charts; along with Greensleeves.
Jeff Cadbury is clearly a man who bears a strong animus for rubbing it in, so we can only imagine his fury following another (even older) NUFC victory when the club’s urbane board members performed a conga past their Sunderland counterparts.
The conga was led by Newcastle’s thirsty owner. Joe must have been FURIOUS when he heard about this. I wouldn’t like to have been there when he, no doubt, excoriated Mr Ashley for this behaviour.
Sunderland reciprocated at full-time on Sunday with a dubious playlist of their own.
It began with I Get The Sweetest Feeling by the late Jackie Wilson. The aggravation of the visiting supporters was then increased by Manfred Mann’s energetic 5-4-3-2-1, then Hot Chocolate’s So You Win Again and the Cardigans’ Losing My Favourite Game.
I left the ground before the next song was played, presumably from the repertoire of Five Star, the Dave Clark Five, the Jackson Five ...
In all honesty they may as well have played You’re **** And You Know You Are (by James Galway) and finished off the job.
No one, but no one was amused by this musical triumphalism with the exceptions of me, all of my friends, everyone in the Stadium of Light outside the visitors’ section, everyone who buys this newspaper, everyone in Sunderland city centre on Sunday night, everyone in Sainsbury’s cafeteria the following morning and sections of the media. But what has anyone learned from all this?
Well Jez Carson should know that he ought to have suppressed his indignation until his side have actually won a derby.
Steve Bruce did something similarly daft a few years ago. The other lesson is that there is nothing remotely funny about gloating – unless you are the one who is doing it.
MEDIA opinion was divided as to the Premier League’s best goal of the weekend.
We at the Sunderland Echo are unable to compromise our neutrality by championing one goal or other.
We can only say that it was a straight choice between Jermain Defoe’s sublime, artistic and emotionally-charged volley that brought about a crucial derby victory; or Charlie Adam’s jammy tap-in for Stoke City during their meaningless kickabout at Chelsea. It’s a tough call.
Due credit should go to SAFC’s now immortal PA announcer for his admirable professionalism at the point of Defoe’s incredible strike, which instigated one of the politest ripples of applause ever witnessed at the Stadium of Light.
The ball hit the net as he was informing the crowd of the amount of time that would be added to the first half.
A lesser orator would have become discombobulated by the incident and announced: “The fourth official has indicated that there will be a minimum of.... GET IN! What a ******* SCREAMER!”
Who else among us is blessed with such creditable sang-froid?