ohhh_yeah

After reading this quote I believe he would be a perfect match for the squad. Salivating at the thought of Williamson or Dummett hoofing the ball up field in the general direction of him. After six seasons of Pardew instructing the team to employ these tactics maybe we can witness a Championship trophy hoisted. “Take a ball, stand in the garden, kick it as high as you can and try and control it without letting it bounce. That always helped me. I’d play out the front of the house, kicking the ball against the wall, left foot, right foot, over and over again. If you keep working on it, working on it, working on it, eventually it will come.”

I despise the mornings I go out onto to my patio and I have a neighbor's chicken waltz up to me to sniff my leg.

Newcastle slipped to a sixth consecutive defeat on Monday night, losing 3-0 at Arsenal, and it is clear for all to see that they are team with absolutely no creative spark. The statistics are damning: The Magpies have scored only once in this dreadful run of defeats and they haven't found the net away from St James' Park in six hours of football. They've failed to score in 13 of their last 16 games. These numbers make the absence of Hatem Ben Arfa ever since match-day 18 look absolutely ridiculous. "With the ball at his feet, he's magic. As magic as Suarez or Messi at times. We had to work with him to understand exactly what he's about. He has got a special talent, we know he's special." The words of Alan Pardew talking about Ben Arfa two years ago after the Frenchman's brilliant display in a 2-0 win over Liverpool. Yet now it is unlikely Ben Arfa will ever play for Newcastle again, and although he has to take his fair share of responsibility for that, the way he has been handled by Pardew has been very poor. The relationship has broken down to such an extent that Ben Arfa's agent recently suggested he will invoke FIFA's 'Article 17' clause to escape from the club in the summer. This clause would allow Ben Arfa to buy himself out of the final year of his contract and leave with Newcastle receiving no transfer fee. So where did it all go wrong for Ben Arfa? His manager's inability to deal with "flair" footballers is the biggest part of the problem. Pardew is an old fashioned manager whose setup of a football team requires 'grafters' and little else. Players like Yoan Gouffran, huge heart but little creative ability, are a dream for the Newcastle manager. Pardew can barely mention Ben Arfa's name without referring to "work rate" and while it is true that all players must play their part, work rate should not be the be all and end all of every player’s selection -- if it is, you find yourself scoring only once in nine hours of football. When Ben Arfa has struck form at Newcastle, he has been a real joy to watch. Top class goals against Fulham, Bolton and Blackburn have won his side matches and Pardew was the first to take the plaudits for how he "handled" the player at those times. The flip side is the manager must also take the flack now that Ben Arfa doesn't even make the bench. Newcastle fans describe Ben Arfa as having been "Pardew'd" -- a term used to describe good players whose form and ability look to have receded badly under Pardew's management. See Moussa Sissoko for instance: When he arrived at Newcastle and played as an all-action central midfielder, he looked like he would be an immense player. A year of playing out of position as a winger and he now looks like a League Two plodder. Mapou Yanga-Mbiwa came in with a huge reputation as a world class centre-half of the future -- Pardew has turned him into a reserve right back. Davide Santon is another. You can go back to West Ham and the eight-game losing streak they endured under Pardew -- Javier Mascherano (now of Barcelona fame) couldn't get a game and the Argentinian was highly critical of Pardew for playing Carlos Tevez as a left winger! Pardew has also been guilty of scape-goating Ben Arfa. He singled him out for criticism after Newcastle were thrashed 0-4 at home by Spurs, even though the Frenchman didn't take the field of play until Newcastle were already two goals behind! Rumours have been rife that Ben Arfa has become unpopular with other players because of his attitude and perhaps this is true. We can't forget that Ben Arfa went on strike from his previous club, Marseille, in order to push through his move to Newcastle and controversy has followed him throughout his career, but I firmly believe that his attitude and off-field habits would have been better if he'd been handled in the way that a player of his obvious ability should have been. I expect Ben Arfa to move on to a new club and excel, leaving Geordie fans wishing that their team was managed by someone more capable.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YhT6d5fMhzI

Floodgates have been opened.

"Well, if I were in charge, they would know that waterboarding is how we'd baptize terrorists."

Wojciech Szczęsny, Bacary Sagna, Per Mertesacker, Laurent Koscielny, Nacho Monreal, Mikel Arteta, Aaron Ramsey, Mesut Özil, Santi Cazorla, Lukas Podolski, Olivier Giroud Substitutes: Łukasz Fabiański, Carl Jenkinson, Thomas Vermaelen, Kim Källström, Mathieu Flamini, Tomáš Rosický, Yaya Sanogo Tim Krul; Mathieu Debuchy, Mike Williamson, Fabricio Coloccini, Paul Dummett; Dan Gosling, Vernon Anita, Cheick Tioté, Yoan Gouffran; Moussa Sissoko; Loïc Rémy Substitutes: Rob Elliot, Massadio Haïdara, Mapou Yanga-Mbiwa, Steven Taylor, Gabriel Obertan, Adam Armstrong, Shola Ameobi

Keith Gillespie has revealed how Sir Alex Ferguson tricked Kevin Keegan when selling him to Newcastle. The former Northern Ireland winger joined the Magpies in 1995 as part of the £7m deal which saw Andy Cole move the other way. But not before Ferguson had intervened a little to ensure his man earned himself a bumper pay day. "After an FA Cup game, we thrashed out terms at midnight in a hotel in Sheffield. Back then I was a £250-a-week player," he told the Sunday Telegraph. "I remember Alex sitting there with a pen and paper, adding up figures and scribbling away. He told a bit of a white lie to Kevin Keegan: 'Keith’s on £600 a week at the moment so he’ll be looking for an increase on that.' "He didn’t tell me this would happen so I sat there with a poker face, giving nothing away. Newcastle were happy to double my wage and an hour later I shook hands on a deal worth £1,200 a week."

Answers! I found answers. October 1, 2010. The television announcer reads in a sombre tone over a montage of clips from my career. “The news that football star Keith Gillespie had been declared bankrupt came in the High Court today. “An order was made against the former Manchester United and Newcastle United winger following a petition by HM Revenue and Customs Commissioners over a £137,000 tax bill. “The 35-year-old spent much of his career in England, having played for Manchester United, Newcastle, Blackburn Rovers, Leicester City and Sheffield United. He also won 86 caps for Northern Ireland...” “Where did it all go wrong? Isn’t that what a hotel porter once said to George Best? I’ve been asked the same question more than once but, unlike George, I don’t have Miss World and stacks of cash lying next to me. It’s usually posed by a drunken stranger in far less glamorous surroundings. At Blackburn, the dressing room comedians christened me “Bestie” alright, but that was more a reference to my roguish tendencies than the playing ability. The name stuck with me, up to and beyond George’s death in 2005. I’ve led a colourful life. I doubt that anyone who crossed my path would describe me as a clean living, model pro. I liked a drink, learned to smoke, and swear by an unhealthy diet. I’ve read what alcoholism did to footballers such as George and Paul McGrath, and I’m grateful to have avoided the affliction of that terrible disease. This man was susceptible to other urges. They didn’t cost me my health, but they almost cost me everything else. How much money did I blow? One afternoon, I figured it out. It’s the closest I’ve come to therapy... until I realised that I actually needed therapy. Working out the bonuses was the hard part - the signing-on fees, the appearance money, the inducements. At Newcastle, we received £50,000 a head for coming second in the league, which was huge money in 1996. By the time I moved onto Blackburn, the globalisation of the Premier League had inflated the wages and the incentives. We earned £1,500 per league point, so two wins on the trot could be worth an extra £9,000. And if you scored a few goals along the way, it helped. So, the calculations took a while. Eventually, we reached a club by club consensus. It went like this... Manchester United £60,000 Newcastle £1,102,000 (plus £250,000 in bonuses) Blackburn £3,510,000 (plus £400,000 in bonuses) Leicester £1,050,000 (plus £40,000 in bonuses) Sheffield United £670,000 (plus £75,000 in bonuses) Bradford £15,000 Glentoran £43,875 Total £7,215,875 A substantial amount of cash, eh? And that’s only a conservative sketch of the incomings. It doesn’t include boot deals, promotional appearances, Northern Ireland match fees, libel settlements and all the other elements that come with the territory. Gambling emptied my pockets. Yet gambling meant nothing to me until I moved to Manchester as an apprentice. My addiction started innocently. It was another lazy afternoon in the apprentice digs and Colin McKee announced that he was going to the bookies - a Ladbrokes at the end of our road. With nothing better to do, I tagged along. What harm? I follow Colin’s lead and start small; we are apprentice footballers earning just £46 a week. I take the slip of paper, scribble down a £1 win bet and walk to the counter. I join the group of eyes trained on the screen, and mutter under my breath a horse other than mine is called the winner. I lose money, but don’t care. The thrill is worth it. I bet on the next race - £2 win this time. I feel a rush of adrenaline when it comes into shot, but another horse is going better. Foiled again, but it doesn’t matter. I want that rush of excitement again. The next day, I returned to the bookies on my own. And the day after, and the day after that... until the days that stand out are the ones where I didn’t go. On Sunday, October 29, 1995, I should have been the happiest man in the world. I was on top of my game, top of the league with Newcastle, and received the ultimate compliment from two of the people I respected most in football, Kevin Keegan and Peter Beardsley. “That lad there could just be the best player in the country at this time, Keegan said. “I wouldn’t disagree,” Pedro replied. I had produced a man of the match display at White Hart Lane... after a destructive 48 hours of gambling that had plunged me into serious debt. I had blown £62,000 - a year’s wages. The majority of the losses had been incurred on Friday, October 27, 1995. My Black Friday. I completely lost the plot. I had grown into one of bookmaker Mickey Arnott’s most prized customers. My favourite bet was a £500 punt on four horses. I’d split them up into four £100 trebles and a £100 accumulator. If one of those came off, Mickey might have £6,000 or £7,000 for me. They were the rare good days. Generally, though, I was the one paying up. Before Black Friday, I’d never lost more than £10,000 in one day. There was moderate flat card at Newmarket, and jumps racing at Bangor and Wetherby. The 2.05 at Newmarket - £1,000 on a horse called Quandary from the all-conquering Henry Cecil stable. He won, but there was no time to dwell on it. I picked up the phone to Mickey’s office and had a punt on the 2.10 at Wetherby. No joy. The 2.20 at Bangor. Loser. Then it was time for Newmarket again, and the sequence continued. I suffered a bout of seconditis. I appreciated a good each-way bet. But on this afternoon, I was betting on the nose, and chasing losses. I upped the stakes to £4,000 a race and got one up. Then stuck another £4,000 on the next and lost it. From then, it was £4,000 on everything. I wasn’t keeping record of how I was doing - that was the danger of betting with invisible money - but I knew I was having a nightmare. The last race of the day, the 4.40 at Bangor, was a National Hunt flat race for horses with little or no racecourse experience - a shot in the dark unless you were in the know. Just two and a half hours after a relatively sensible bet on a good thing at Newmarket, I was sticking £4,000 on a 12/1 shot called Dream Ride. He finished 10th, some 40 lengths behind. I had a few blind stabs on the greyhounds until there was nothing left to bet on. I called Mickey. “What’s the damage?” “You lost £47,000 today.” I lay in bed that night restless, thinking about how to win some of my money back the next day. In the morning, I laid down a variety of bets on the horses and football. There was no mention of the day before. My bets were accepted, no questions asked. I lost another £15,000. Eventually, the story of my Black Friday got out. At first I denied it to Terry McDermott. I sorted Mickey out with a few thousand over the winter. But then it broke in the press. I told my mum. “How much? Thousands? £10,000? More?” “£47,000”. “Aack, son.” I rang the gaffer, Kevin Keegan. I’ll never forget how understanding he was. He let me stay and have some food while he rang Mickey and got it sorted. My saving grace was that I was due a new contract because of my form, a £5,500 a week deal that would rise by £500 every season. The five-fold pay increase eased the burden. Keegan spoke to the club’s hierarchy and organised an advance on the signing-on fee. It was that straightforward. The one thing the gaffer was really annoyed about was that I hadn’t owned up to Terry. When I showed my face at training, the welcome was less sympathetic. The lads were pissing themselves. There was no arm around the shoulder; the unforgiving rules of the dressing room applied and, to be absolutely honest, I was glad of the banter. They seemed to be more amused by the fact that I’d backed a horse called Dream Ride. Two days before Black Friday, I nearly won over £40,000 on betting on a football match - our League Cup tie away to Stoke. A regular at the bookies pointed out that, under Keegan, we commonly won games 2-0, 2-1, 3-0 or 3-1. Pedro hadn’t scored for a few games, so I stuck £500 on him to score first at 6/1. I then placed four £500 doubles, with Pedro to score first paired with final scorelines of 2-0, 2-1, 3-0, and 3-1. We took an early lead, courtesy of none other than Peter Beardsley, who must have wondered why I was so excited. We were cruising, and I was running around the pitch calculating my winnings. When our defence switched off, and their main striker, Paul Peschisolido, raced through on goal, I quickly calculated that the odds for 3-1 were better, and willed him to score but he tried a lob and failed miserably. Still, I was well on course for a win of around £50,000 as the game entered the final five minutes. Then, a remarkable thing happened. Darren Peacock ventured forward. Darren averaged a goal a season in his four years at Newcastle. When a loose ball fell in Darren’s direction, I reckoned it was a good thing. Wrong. 4-0. The other lads raced to celebrate a collector’s item. I couldn’t bring myself to join in. I was up £3,000 from the first scorer bet, but it was scant consolation for what could have been. Keith Gillespie didn’t blow all his money on gambling. There were also misguided investments which racked up huge tax bills just as his income was falling in his mid-30s. Ultimately, it was the tax liabilities on these deals which forced his bankruptcy. He explains: “There was always enough money pouring into my account to deal with the bills that came my way. “That changed in 2007, with a letter from chartered accountants Hanna Thompson, which laid out the tax implications of the film syndicate I’d signed up to back in 2001. “Five full years had passed, and now the little details which I had previously ignored were suddenly very relevant. “My understanding was basic. I was still paying off the £1.3million loan registered in my name with an income stream that showed up in my tax forms every year. “By the declaration of that loan as a trading loss, I’d pocketed the £500,000 tax relief, and blown the majority of it. “The missive from Hanna Thompson detailed that the tax liability due on the Film Partnership Profits was £436,000 spread out over 10 years. “The sums increased until 2016, the final year of the arrangement, the tax due was £70,618. It brought home the insanity of the scheme which I’d signed up to. “Hundreds of footballers also signed up. Sir Alex Ferguson had invested into one called Eclipse 35. “What about the films our syndicate had financed? Our partnership was called Castle Media Film Partnership and there was a rumour that the investment had played a significant part in the creation of (award-winning war drama) Band Of Brothers. But that belonged to Castle Media Partnership II - the sequel to our scheme. “We discovered our three productions: (they were called) The Glass, Starhunter and Bride Of The Wind. “No, I’ve never heard of them either. “Their legacy is the tax bills that drove me into bankruptcy."

“Alan Pardew and his management team had a lot of soul searching to do before they made the decision to send Ben Arfa back to France. “But it was a decision they felt they had to make for the good of the whole football club and the rest of the first team squad “Everybody knows what a good player Ben Arfa is on his day – but this season he has been so negative, both on and off the field, and it has had an effect on the rest of the squad. Indeed, since he has been back in France things among the squad have improved considerably. “Don’t forget It was Pardew who signed Ben Arfa on a permanent basis for Newcastle. And didn’t he describe Ben Arfa’s goal against Bolton Wanderers a couple of years ago as the best he had ever seen? “Pardew has tried everything to get Ben Arfa into the right frame of mind. He has given him time off to go home whenever he wanted and even given him his own physiotherapist, all to no avail. “Not only does Pardew know Ben Arfa is a massive fans’ favourite but also that Mike Ashley is his No.1 fan. “This has made the decision to send him back to France all the more difficult, but it was a decision Pardew and his management team felt they had no choice but to make.”

Not very DIY, CT.

Hope Tito can defeat this cancer and wish him a speedy recovery. Never like to hear about a member of the football community in the hospital labeled as in critical condition.

Babelfish translator tells me agent Oliver Cabrera went to London to discuss the transfer of midfielder Filip Djuricic. Linked to him last window. Would MA sanction meeting his release clause? Can not see that happening myself.

I call bullshit on those being homemade onion rings. The tomato slice on top of the pile looks like you sliced it with a spoon. Bury that on the bottom if you want your meal to appeal to us. Will not even mention those tasty looking branches you included. Oh wait...

We had a contraption like that "hell slide" that us neighbor kids loved to spend our time on. Except our apparatus was called a bridge. We would hurl ourselves off of it and know the only dangers were if we did not stay in the tucked position, hold our breath, or hit the bottom of the ocean and then had to pick broken shells out of the bottom of our feet. For added enjoyment we got to play hide and seek every once and while since the bobbies were searching for us.

but that is not controversial CT, you should be focusing your energy towards great grandma's cooking and her buttered rolls.

The epitome of cringe.

Pro Press them through a sieve and then make your own hot dogs.

Get yourself a butane torch. No need to take time out of your busy schedule mashing away at the three, zero, and start buttons.

Do not think his injury is too serious but expect him to pack it in for the remainder of the season.

Will we see the obese bastard at a match again this season?

Quiet, you.

FFS! http://www.redandwhitekop.com/forum/index.php?topic=313450.msg0#new

By Lee Ryder From hero to near zero - how fortunes of Hatem Ben Arfa have fluctuated while on Tyneside There was once a time when Alan Pardew was ready to build his Newcastle United team around Hatem Ben Arfa. In fact, it is understood that, with the funds not forthcoming for the big- name new striker United fans craved, Pardew was ready to hand the Frenchman the No 9 shirt. The news was an eyebrow- raiser for me but at that stage Ben Arfa still had his best years very much in front of him. The plan was to use the French ace with the likes of Yohan Cabaye (right), Demba Ba and Sylvain Marveaux, who all came in during the summer of 2011. However, it never quite worked out that way. Today, against Swansea City, we could get a glimpse of the future at Newcastle – without Hatem Ben Arfa. It seems a long time ago since the schemer was potentially spoken about as the chief entertainer at St James’ Park. Over a pot of tea in a Jesmond coffee shop I asked Ben Arfa what he thought of the idea one day and he responded: “If they had handed me the No 9 shirt, I would have had no problem pulling it on. “It is a big shirt, but I enjoy the expectation and just want to deliver.” Of course, Ben Arfa is not the type of prolific forward you would associate with the traditional No 9 at Newcastle. Nobody needs to be told he is a far cry from the Malcolm MacDonalds, Alan Shearers and Les Ferdinands of the world. That is why it was a real eyebrow-raiser when I first picked up the news United were toying with the idea of giving him the No 9 shirt. In the end, he was given the No 10 shirt. When Ben Arfa has played for the Magpies we have seen glimpses of his immense talent. He has goals in him, he beats defenders and he creates for others. Is that only when he wants to? Is it only when he is in the mood? Or is this a deeper problem beyond Pardew’s managerial capabilities? How far should a manager go to give a player special treatment in order to get the best out of him? Certainly, the decision to let Ben Arfa play against Stoke City just days after a dressing-room bust-up after the Manchester United game did not go down well with some of the senior players at Newcastle. Fast forward three years from the prospect of him being handheld the No 9 shirt and Pardew’s relationship with Ben Arfa has become strained. Patience has worn thin and Ben Arfa is more likely to leave this summer then be offered a new contract as it stands. All of it is a real shame for the supporters who see him as one of the few players left at the club capable of flying the flag for the old Entertainers. Sadly, that is modern-day Newcastle for you. Pardew has been unable to come up with a solution which has resulted in Ben Arfa rediscovering match fitness, form and general happiness on the football field - despite the arrival of fitness guru Faye Downey last summer. However, Pardew is the man responsible for man-mangement when it comes to Ben Arfa. When Cabaye wanted his move to Arsenal last August, he refused to play in games against Manchester City and West Ham. The talk from club insiders then was: “He does not want to be here.” Therefore, I have sympathy for the modern manager. Quite how much Ben Arfa wants to be here, nobody really knows. My guess is he wants to be at Newcastle but does not want Pardew to be. Whether he is taking his chance until the summer and seeing if the Londoner will still be around for pre-season remains to be seen. The sad thing is, where does Ben Arfa – at 27 – end up next. He was dubbed one of the best players of his generation by coming through the ranks at Clairefontaine and is on a list of famous graduates like Thierry Henry, Louis Saha, David Trezeguet, Nicolas Anelka, Seb Bassong and Abou Diaby. Perhaps too often he has been allowed to go back to the famous French technical centre for treatment. Ben Arfa should be at an age when he should not be running away from his problems and facing the music. Something just has not been right for Pardew and Ben Arfa this season.Especially in 2014. When Yohan Cabaye was sold the hope was Ben Arfa would step up to the plate and try to fill the gap in terms of creativity. That just has not happened - he has been used sparingly and, while he has had the support of the crowd, the deeper problems were at the club’s training ground. Newcastle are a crazy club in which you cannot rule anything out. At the moment, though, it feels like the beginning of the end for Hatem Ben Arfa.