Wembley At Last!

And so the big day finally arrived and I was feeling very nervous. Like many other fans no doubt, I barely slept and it was all I could do not to wander into central London at my normal early time.

But I soon got bored of waiting at home and wandered into central London far too early and ended up wasting some time at a camera shop in Euston before heading off to meet John and Bev.

We’d decided to try somewhere new for breakfast, the Shepherdess Cafe, on City Road as we've walked past it many times and it has always looked quite tempting. Unfortunately it was rather disappointing – especially the strange spicy foreign-type sausage - and I’d made the situation worse by ordering some black pudding – a huge side order that turned out to be – when I didn’t really have my usual appetite.

After doing our best with the mountain of food, we caught a bus to Euston where we got chatting to a local woman. Turns out her boyfriend is from Darlo but it seems he wasn’t aware of his hometown club playing at Wembley – much like the rest of the town I suppose. Nevertheless Bev and her compared notes on the pros and cons of Darlo men. John squirmed in his seat.

As we got off the bus we bumped into Trevor and then, as we were waiting for the Bree Louise to open up, we were joined by Howard, Susie, John Bell and his mate Rod.

(left) Hairy photographer looking smug from his vantage point

The Bree Louise should really be a better pub than it is, especially with about 10 beers available.

Unfortunately some of these beers are straight from the cask and they always taste a bit tired and flat. Today was no different and so I ordered from the handpumps - a nice pint of Redemption Hopspur.

We were only there for half an hour though, merely putting in some time until the nearby Euston Tap opened up.

When we got there we found Neil, Martin, Chris S and his Mum waiting patiently outside. I was worried that it wasn’t opening but finally manager Tony opened the doors and let us in.

Unlike most lunchtimes, I was taking it easy today as I wanted to get into Wembley early and savour the atmosphere – Martin and Geoff felt the same so they joined me as I left before 1pm and headed for the tube.

A Wembley-bound Metropolitan train was pulling up as we got there, full of Darlo and Mansfield fans, and so it wasn’t long before we got to Wembley Park.

After taking a couple of shots of Martin and Geoff on Olympic Way I went to find the photographers entrance – thankfully it was at the front of the stadium and after a quick security check I was in.

Fellow Darlo photographers Chris Booth (Echo) and Rob Smith (freelance) were also there, queuing for their passes, and once we'd got those we were taken to the media room down in the bowels of the stadium.

Great facilities on offer for the TOGS – desks with internet access and plenty of sandwiches and soft drinks with someone to serve you – I could get used to this sort of treatment. I was told that the media room was half-full which isn't to bad I suppose.

The media room was close to the end that Darlo had been given and so once we were ready to go pitchside, we didn't have far to go. We would be allowed to go behind the goals - behind the advertising hoardings, not on the grass itself - but not down the side of the ptich so I went off to bag my place. As I did so I saw that one place had already been bagged by Al Jezerra TV - they must be desperate for football!

I then took the opportunity to go for a walk around the whole of the pitch and get a real feel for the place - not the sort of thing you get the chance to do very often.

It has to be said that Wembley is a very impressive stadium – it has had its fair share of criticism but I was very impressed – it gave the impression you can get a great view of the action from anywhere. I would be spoilt in this respect of course – it was hard to believe that just a couple of weeks I’d been at Hayes & Yeading.

There were many, many new faces amongst the Darlo contingent but every so often I’d find somebody I knew – certainly some faces I hadn’t seen at Darlo for many years. The weather was looking good and so I made sure I got plenty of crowd shots. People were only too keen to have them taken.

The players then came out to warm up and the atmosphere went up a notch. Then there was a lull whilst they went back and then the stadium exploded as the teams came out and we had the national anthem. The butterflies in my stomach looped the loop. Can't we just get on with it!!

I think it is fair to say that writing this now, the majority of the game itself is forgotten - it wasn't a bad game as such, just very tight. Darlo were the team who created most chances during the course of the game but Mansfield also had their moments.

After remaining goalless at the end of normal time, we entered extra-time and the tension went up several notches - this isn't the sort of thing we normally handle well and I was dreading the thought of penalty kicks.

(right) Paul Arnison and hero Chris Senior celebrate

However we kept at Mansfield and went close with Tommy Wright missing a couple of good chances. As we entered the last minute pressure in the Mansfield box saw the ball bounce off the top of the bar and super-sub Chris Senior headed it home.

It was hard not to jump up and celebrate like my fellow fans but I kept shooting the celebrations on the pitch. Get in!!!

As the players settled down for the restart, I still expected the worst to happen - this is Darlo, yeah? I almost wet myself as Mansfield got a quick freekick outside our box but that was wasted and then referee Stuart Atwell - who did an excellent job - blew the final whistle.

Cue the biggest celebrations we've ever had - I think today saw the release of many years of mutual pent-up frustration - an exorcism of sorts if you will.

The team were presented with the Trophy and then had a lot of fun on the pitch - and we had a lot of fun with them - it was great to see such a smile on chairman Raj Singh's face, he throughly deserved this for sticking by the club.

Finally the players left the pitch and happy fans started to make their way out - the Mansfield end was now completely empty - and so I head back to the media room. Inside Echo togger Chris Booth is already hard at work on his laptop, sending shots to the Echo.

I have a couple of cold drinks (water only unfortunately - no bubbly down here) and chill out for a few minutes before I pack up my gear and make my way out.

(left) DAFTS celebrate in typical fashion

Once I get outside there are not many fans around - it it surprising how quickly how people have left.

As I walk down Olympic Way I bump into into Gordon, Darlo's other tunnel steward, and some of his mates. I think it is fari to say they've had a drink or two and will be having a few more before the day is out.

And then I meet my former Northallerton neighbour Geoff Thompson - we've both been following Darlo since about 1973 and it feels like sone hell of a journey that we'e been on to get to this win today.

On the tube though I'm on my own save for some Wembley stewards going home - they're not keen to share the celebrations with and so I've no one else to clench my fist with and say "Yes!" - and that feels very odd.

I race back to the Euston Tap and find a healthy quota of DAFTS in full celebration - I change into a less sweaty t-shirt and then make a start on some of the bottled beers - damn the expense, it isn't every day we win at Wembley - knowiug Darlo this victory will have to last a long, long time and it needs celebrating properly.

Brian is doing just that and has broken into his stash of Cuban cigars and is doing his very best impression of Churchill - which isn't very good unless Winny had seriously good to seed!

There are a few Mansfield fans in the bar who are being friendly and congratulating us - good beer attracts good people more often that not.

And then after discussing THAT moment for the umpteenth time, everyone makes their way to their respective homes, to sleep, perchance to relive this happy day...

Toer de Geuze 2011

Whilst otherwise sensible folk were flocking into London for some wedding, London Miller Chris Turner and I were speeding out of the capital on the Eurostar. Destination Brussels.

Such an early start meant we arrived at Brussels Midi at 11:33am local time - too early to check in to our hotel so we wandered off to the Fleur en Papier Dore - a small bar which had a couple of excellent new beers for me - a tasty IPA, Hopus, and De La Senne's Zinnebir.

From here we wandered to one of the newest bars in town - Moeder Lambic Fontainas - which had a large choice of beers on tap including an excellent range of saison beers which I've really got a taste for. One of the best was the IV Saison from Jandrain-Jandrenouille - really excellent and apparently quite trendy!

Others that I tried included a trio of fine beers from one of my favourite Belgian brewers, De Ranke, with their XX, Hop Harvest and Saison de Dottinges. An excellent start to our trip.

The third member of our party - Roger - met us here as he was on a later train out of St Pancras. After a couple more beers we wandered off to the hotel to check in and turn our bikes round (as Liz's dad would day).

In the evening we headed for the original Moeder Lambic bar though this took about 20 mins longer than it should thanks to Chris and his less-than-ideal map reading skills. A decent bar but service was a tad slow and I much prefer the vibrancy of it's younger sibling.

The following day we set out with the best of intentions to try some more of the city's pubs but for some reason we ended up spending the whole session - from noon to after midnight - yes, almost thirteen hours - sat in the quirky surroundings of the Poechenellekelder.

This bar is slap bang opposite the famous Manneken Pis which always attracts the tourists - we ignored it though and headed straight for the bar. The interior is like a small museum with odd, scary puppets hanging from the ceiling and giving the place a highly surreal air.

The beer choice was excellent and the time flew past as we tried beers old and new - we had the odd food break to keep our strength up with Roger having several servings of tette presse (brawn).

Before we knew it, it was approaching midnight. In all we spent over 200 euros and had about 14 beers each - steady going really and we didn't feel that bad considering. See the whole bill here.

We had an early start on the Sunday when we went travelled to Halle station for the main event of the weekend - the bi-annual Toer de Geuze - which is when all the major lambic producers open their doors to the public.

(left) The best of Boon

There is a very good report on the day on this posting from Des De Moor who was on our bus so I won't try and explain the intricacies of the day to you as he does it so much better.

Joining us on the bus were Jackie and Simon from London who we know well from many beer festivals. We also got talking to an American couple - brother and sister - and a friendly Belgian guy who sat with us so he could translate what our bus guide was saying.

At the first brewery - de Cam - there was a mad scrum for the bar and the way in which tokens were bought and beers were served was rather chaotic. After finally getting a couple of beers we wandered outside where we got chatting to some more Americans, one of who was Pete Slosberg.

Pete was one of the first to brew decent beer in the US and it sparked a small revival in brewing which led for a while to new US brews being sold in Oddbins back in the 1980s. I used to drink a lot of his stuff and it was great to finally meet him (even though he sold up many years again, preferring now to just travel and drink).

The bus then took us at a healthy pace around the breweries of de Troch, Boon, 3 Fonteinen and Oud Beersel.

The beers of Boon are amongst my absolute favourites and they didn't disappoint, especially the kriek which was beautiful.

(right) Simon, Jackie, Roger, Chris and our friendly Belgian chum

In all, it was a really interesting trip but the crowds were huge as it was a very sunny day on a bank holiday weekend which meant that a lot of locals were out in force.

The queues at most of the breweries meant that there was often less time that I would have liked for drinking. I'm not known for my patience.

We were dropped off back at Halle station and as we had an hour or two to spare before we caught the Eurostar home we went to the Moeder Lambic Fontainas for a few more beers.

On reflection I don't think I would do the toer again as the queuing makes it too frustrating for an impatient git like me but I will certainly head back to Brussels now that I'm beginning to get my bearings.

Hayes and Yeading Do The Double

We haven't had much chance to visit Maries for breakfast this season so as we had a leisurely start to the day John W and I decide to begin the day here. The place is very quiet and so we're served nice and quickly - as ever the breakfast is A1.

As we're ahead of schedule so we pop into the Ian Allan bookshop. I potter round the Military section and end up buying an interesting looking book on trench warfare in WW1. Is it only me that finds this sort of thing fascinating?

From here we head over to Paddington where Trevor is waiting for us and we catch a local commuter train and just fifteen minutes later we're in sunny Hayes.

The choice of pubs in this neck of the woods is probably the worst we've had all season and as a result we've highlighted the local Wetherspoons as the only decent place to go.

The Botwell Inn isn't that bad when we get there - it has a decent choice of beers on offer, some of which are leftovers from their recent national festival.

However the one thing that bugs me about Wetherspoons is that if there is a handpump with a pumpclip it doesn't necessarily mean the beer is on as we soon find out. They refuse to turn the pumpclip round as most other pubs do and so your expectations are raised.

The first beer we have is Daleside White Bier which is in the style of a Belgian white and it is quite good - certainy refreshing. It is quite cheap as well of course, certainly by London standards and whilst price is rarely the criteria I use for selecting beers, it is good when you get a decent beer for a modest cost.

Other offerings included Windsor & Eton Windsor Knot and Black IPA , Zeunerts Ale, Greene King Abbot and Courage Directors.

(left) Sam Russell fails to keep Hayes & Yeading from scoring a second goal

Geoff Luke then joined us - and then Howard - whilst John had to go and collect Beverley from the station. For someone who works for London Transport she doesn't have the greatest sense of direction!

From the pub it takes about fifteen minutes to walk to the ground - probably the neatest we've visited this season but nice and homely nonetheless. I sign in at the main gate and am left to my own devices on the pitch - no long list of do's and don't here.

The weather is lovely and it all has the hallmarks of an early season friendly but for Hayes & Yeading this is a must-win fixture.

And judging from their first-half performance, Darlington were looking to do everything in their power to help them.

Hayes were out for a result from the kick-off and were in the lead after 20 mins after Adam Quinn was out-paced on the wing and from the resulting cross the ball was bundled into the Quakers' net.

(right) A smug Geoff with his winnings

No lessons were learnt from this and Hayes could see that Darlo were not up for it - Russell made two decent saves before the lead was doubled after about 30 minutes.

By now the Quakers looked well out of it and qjuite likely to concede further - thankfully we got to half-time without Hayes increasing their lead.

The break saw some joy however as our chum Geoff Luke won the half-time draw and he came back to us flashing a fisful of twenties! Sadly it was to be the highlight of the afternoon.

As the second half kicked off, there was certainly more endeavour from Darlo and some positive work up-front but the game was more or less killed off when Hayes counter-attacked at speed and made it 3-0.

Michael Smith worked himself into a good position but failed to slot in from a slight angle just a few yards from the line with no one to beat. It more or less summed up our day.

His blushes were short-lived though as Darlo surprised us all and scored two goals in quick succession.

The first was an own-goal after a Hayes defender knocked into his own net after the keeper had initially stopped a goal-bound effort from MB-W.

The second was a debut goal from Greg Taylor who was first to react and poked the ball home from a few yards after Miller's header came back off the bar.

(left) Greg Taylor scores his debut goal for Darlo - not enough

Darlo then huffed and puffed but failed to create an equaliser and so Hayes and Yeading earned a vaulable three points in their battle for survival.

Meanwhile we trudged back to the station and headed back to Paddington and from there to the Euston Tap where Geoff was keen to spend his winnings on us. Who we were to refuse?

There were a couple of cracking beers on tonight from the very well regarded Summer Wine Brewery - Odyssey Pale Ale and Nerotype Black IPA - and these helped put the poor performance to bed.

Thank goodness for the healing properties of beer - where would I be without it?

The Ugly Face Of Football

John W and I meet up at King's Cross, waiting the arrival of the 6:30am departure from Darlo and on it, hopefully, was Tony.

Well it looked like Tony but it was strangely quiet version as we headed down to the tube. It seems he'd been out on the town last night and wasn't quite with the rest of us yet.

As we jumped on a packed Victoria line train I suddenly realised all was not well - there was an incident elsewhere on the line so we opted for the Piccadilly. From here we had a convoluted trip that saw us exit Westminster tube.

From here it was a five minute walk past Scotland Yard and the Channel 4 offices to our first calling point of the day, the Regency Cafe.

We first came here at the start of the season - an excellent breakfasterie and it didn't let us down today. All aspects of the meal were first class, including an old-fashioned pint of orange juice to perk us up.

From Victoria we had a 50-min trip to Crawley and we timed our arrival more or less perfectly for the opening of the Swan.

This is a decent pub with some nice beers - Dark Star Hophead and M&M Porter, Northern Two-Tone Special, Gadds IPA and a couple more - but the majority were 5% or more.

We settled in the small quiet bar and it was a pretty slow going - Tony had a pint of lemonade whilst I had a half of coke to accompany my pint of Hophead.

(left) Liam Hatch wins the ball

We then got on with the serious business of working out who would be needing a ticket for Wembley so that we could try and get them all together.

John B arrived followed by Iain and Paul - a relatively easy trip for them - and we settled to watch West Ham take a two-nil lead over Manchester United. "3-2 to United" I suggested as the final score - I was nearly right.

John B had estimated via Google that it was a thirteen minute walk to the ground but we set off in good time anyway. Just as well as it took almost double that and I walked into reception with less than ten minutes to spare before kick-off.

The Broadway Stadium is a neat little ground with one main stand and two standing terraces behind the goal with the home fans given the chance to change ends. The Darlo contingent were given one corner of the ground so I positioned myself close by.

On the pitch, Paul Terry was making his full start since coming back from injury and he had his work cut out for most of the day, especially as Gary Smith went on to have a very quiet game and MB-W was also far from his best.

Despite Steve Evan's earlier comments to the contrary, we know that Darlo are not a long-ball team and it was Miller and Burn who spent most of the first-half heading away long-balls pumped to the Crawley striker McAllister.

For the most part the Crawley threat was nullified although there were a couple of times when Sam Russell had to tip shots round the post.

At the other end Liam Hatch was getting little out of the game - he worked hard but the Crawley centre-backs held firm. And should Hatch actually win a ball, he usually found that referee Whitton pulled him up for a foul.

Whitton though seemed to let similar things go unpunished when made by Crawley players and some of his decisions beggared belief.

John Campbell almost got on the end of a cross from MB-W but he was eventually subbed after half an hour for Nathan Modest.

On the sidelines Crawley manager Steve Evans and his assistant were pacing the technical area, berating the officials for any decision that didn't go for them. Mark Cooper meanwhile kept his own counsel and didn't react.

Darlo continued to work hard in defence to keep Crawley at bay and it was goalless when the ref blew for half-time.

The second-half proved to be just like the first - Crawley high balls, Darlo defending, the ref making poor decisions the home bench screaming blue murder.

However on the hour Crawley took the lead - and ironically it came about via a stroke of bad luck as Miller made a good tackle only for the ball to fall to Smith who fired in off the post.

Darlo upped their game in a bid to get an equaliser but Hatch continued to be thwarted by poor decisions from the referee. He did go close on one occasion but the home keeper pushed the ball to Burn who put the ball over the bar.

Crawley brought on sub Richard Brodie to try and put more pressure on Darlo - a nasty piece of work, always sniping at other players and falling over in bids to win fouls - sort of a cross between Plug of the Bash Street Kids and Paul Dickov - and let's not forget it was Brodie's theatrical antics that saw Brown sent off at the home fixture in November.

(right) Brown takes a throw-in as the Crawley bench kick a spare ball onto the pitch

As the final seconds ticked away, Aaron Brown took a throw-in on the half-way line as Darlo looked to make one final attack. As he did I noticed a loose ball was kicked by one of the Crawley bench onto the pitch - presumably to get the ref to interrupt play and get the extra ball off.

The ref blew for full-time at that point anyway so it made no difference but that simple snide act from the Crawley team personified exactly why they'll not be missed next season. Good riddance.

We made our way back to the station where the service back to Victoria was running a few minutes late. When we got on-board we were then delayed by someone walking on the track just ahead of the train.

It probably took about twenty minutes for the guy to be finally persuaded to return to the platform before we got underway. And then the driver announced the train would terminate at the next station!

After detraining at Three Bridges, we caught a train to London Bridge. Unfortunately it was a stopper so John B jumped out at Gatwick to get a quicker train so he'd not miss his Euston connection.

We sat and enjoyed the slower journey but still managed to get to the Euston Tap just after 7pm. Tine for Tony to have a quick pint of Ossett Corker and see what all the fuss is about.

John B and I stayed for a few more beers then finally called it a day - a frustrating and disappointing day but at least we can console ourselves with the fact that we don't have an odious git for a manager...

Jokers Wild

Waterloo station is not a particularly exciting place, especially at 5pm on a Friday night as everyone heads towards the station for their commute home.

I was here to find a decent pub before going to see Killing Joke at the Royal Festival Hall. One contender was the famous Hole In The Wall pub next to the station but on our last visit a few years ago it wasn't up to much.

Instead I headed down the impressive Roupell Street - like stepping into the past as you walk past the wonderfully preserved Victorian workers' cottages - to the Kings Arms.

This pub is a real gem - two bars with four ales on each including Dark Star Hophead and Patridge,Brakspear's Oxford Gold, Jenning's Cumberland Ale and Ringwood Boondoggle - and it wasn't too busy so I got a seat at the bar.

I tried the Dark Star Partridge and was so impressed I stuck to it - darker than the Hophead but just as drinkable.

One of the barmen noticed my camera bag - he told me that he was a freelance reportage photographer and so we got talking about camera gear and how best to capture the moment.

The pub steadily got fuller as the working day came to a close and after several more pints I was joined by Andy and Clarkey who were also going to the gig.

I'd been advised the band would hit the stage at 8:30pm and so we left in good time even though it was only a few minutes away.

The Royal Festival Hall is often thought of as a venue just for classical music but it has been putting on rock bands for quite a while.

(left) Jaz Coleman in full flow

We had great seats in the middle of the front section and as the lights dimmed at 8:30pm exactly, the band hit the stage and KJ fans left their seats and hit the front.

Although tempted to join them I stayed where I was as I had a perfect spot for taking photos.

Unlike most venues you're not frisked on entry and they seem to have no issue with you taking photos. I felt sorry for the those freelance photographers down at the front who were now swamped by hordes of fans.

The sound was superb - not surprising as the hall was totally refurbished a few years ago - and the band rumbled through their back catalogue.

As this stretches back to 1979, there were always some favourites that would be missed out but the likes of Change, Eighties and Wardance showed that this bunch of fifty-somethings can still cut it.

There was a huge backdrop on which film and animation projections were being played - these were all produced by Darlington lad Mike Coles, supremo of Malacious Damage records and designer of the early KJ album sleeves. They were very impressive and complemented the songs brilliantly.

The band is back to the original members - front man Jaz Coleman strutting the stage in his trademark boiler suit, Geordie chopping away on guitar and the pumping rhythm being provided by Youth and Paul Ferguson. On stage they're joined by youngster Reza on keyboards.

A great night and probably the finest gig I'd ever seen them play - good to see them maturing nicely like the rest of us...

Heed Over Heels

Given I'd been up north for the Primal Scream gig, I decided to spend a few days with the family in Northallerton and so it was only a short trip up the line for our big day out in Gateshead.

Nevertheless I was still in Newcastle nice and early and had time on my hands so I popped into the Grainger Market - this is where I used to come as a student for my 28p a pound ox liver!

The only breakfast place that I knew was Sarah's Tuck In which got a rave review here. The food was OK but not quite the standard I've come to expect on a match-day morning.

After a quick look round the shops I met Martin and Claude at Central station which was awash with Darlo fans wandering off to find pubs.

Following my footsteps from earlier in the week, we headed off over the Tyne Bridge and back to the Central where a few Darlo fans were already supping.

(left) Sam holds on tight...

As we got stuck into the beers - including York Guzzler to keep Martin happy - the place got busier and busier, mainly with Darlo fans - all of which took the barstaff by surprise.

John Bell arrived and then our new Gateshead chum, Steve, and his girlfriend, Gina, joined us.

Brian was a late arrival having got a bit lost and ended up at the Borough Arms instead - only one decent beer apparently but they did provide free chips!

We joined Steve and Gina for the walk to the International Stadium - going by some of the back streets overlooking the Tyne - and by the time we reached the ground, there was a huge queue for the home end.

I made my way into the ground and spent far too long trying to get a photographers bib before I eventually make my way pitchside.

The Darlo end was looking pretty full even with fifteen minutes to go before kick-off. I took a few shots of the fans from the front of the stand. I was later told that there was a chant of "Hagrid, Hagrid, give us a wave" - presumably from the younger element - but I never heard it.

By the times the teams came out there was a great atmosphere in the ground and there was singing from both sides of the ground. Both of the curved ends were to have been empty but one was eventually opened for Gateshead fans as the main stand got very busy.

As the game kicked off, Gateshead were obviously out to try and apply pressure - they managed to win the lion's share of possesion but to little end result.

Only one shot looked to threaten the Quaker's goal in the first half but that trickled away for a throw and left Sam Russell little to do other than collect the odd cross.

As in the first game Nathan Fisher and Darlo boo boy Adam Rundle were the main threat but even they found it hard going and other than a few pretty touches, made little headway against the Darlo defence.

(right) Darlo players celebrate

Up front Liam Hatch was running his socks off but was making little impact although one of his headers hit the bar - the ball dropped to Dan Burn who was probably taken by surprise as he could only tap the rebound a few inches the wrong side of the post.

At the break it was nil-nil and I took the opportunity to visit the gents - however there looked to be only one for the whole of the away end and by the time I'd queued and done the deed, the players were coming out for the second half.

There was much more determination from the Quakers this half - Bridge-Wilkinson seemed to step up a gear and was starting to put some decent moves together but we still never produced a real threat in front of the Gateshead goal.

Likewise Gateshead found it hard to penetrate the defence with just one good chance falling to Jon Shaw but before he could steady himself to shot from about eight yards, the ball was whisked away after a fantastic tackle by Ian Miller.

The minutes ticked down slowly and though we looked as safe and secure as you can with a one-nil lead, it was still nerve racking stuff.

It got worse as we entered the period of added time - nerves were jangling and the players were making sure the ball stayed in the Gateshead half.

Finally the referee blew the final whistle and the Darlo players could finally celebrate - the Darlo fans rushed onto the pitch to hail their heroes.

Annoyingly one of the little darlings nabbed my Darlo hat as I was taking photos too - little bastard!

The players went off to the dressing room for ten minutes before they came out again for a more orderly celebration - Mark Cooper was exhausted and told me he'd never been so nervous.

(right) Whispering Ray interviews a happy chairman

As I was leaving the ground I passed the press box so stopped off to listen to Ray interviewing Raj for Radio Tees.

The chairman said he was was absolutely delighted, especially with the turn-out of fans - apparently there were almost 2,500 fans from Darlo.

Ray then interviewed manager Cooper who looked more relieved than happy and was already in that "we need to concentrate on our game on Tues night, Ray" mode that managers use to keep everybody grounded.

As I made my way through the main stand there were a lot of disappointed home officials and fans and I suddenly thought how I would have felt it it was us who'd been denied a trip to the final.

The short walk to the Metro was very quiet - a lot of police still around but most fans had dispersed and so I travelled back into Newcastle on my own.

I had an hour before my train home so headed off to the Newcastle Arms where I got a text from John W who hadn't yet heard the score. I called to let him know he was off to Wembley and was then joined by Brian, John Gray and Rich.

After the game I got a text from Steve, our Gateshead chum, who wished us luck and reckoned that Gateshead had been "outfought, outthought, outplayed and even outsang". Very gracious - I hope I could have been the same had it been Darlo on the losing side.

It wasn't until I was back on the train to Northallerton that I heard we would be playing Mansfield at Wembley. Not the result from Kenilworth Road that most would have expected but it'll do me.

Oh, What Happened To You?

And so the weekend begins and it's only Wednesday - how good is that?

It starts with the 7:30am train to Newcastle from King's Cross - not a busy service - and I'm left to read until I reach Darlo when Tony jumps on-board.

By the time we reach Newcastle Central, Steve is waiting for us having flown up from Cardiff. It is too early to book into our hotel so I store my bags in Left Luggage.

(left) The Central

We make our way to the Tyne Bridge and walk over to Gateshead - certainly fog on the Tyne today, in fact it is foggy everywhere and it all looks a bit gloomy.

Over on the Gateshead side we pop along to the Sage - not a lot to see inside on the whole other than the cafe where Steve manages to grab some breakfast.

Once the clock hits 11:30am though we wander back towards the bridge and head to the Central. This is a pub I popped into about a year ago and at that time it was covered in scaffolding whilst undergoing a major renovation.

That is now finished and it looks lovely, both inside and out. It still has a good range of beers: Consett Red Dust, Titanic Iceberg, York First Light, Itchen Valley's Fagin's, Northumberland Farne Island, High House Farm Nel's Best, Big Lamp Prince Bishop Ale plus one from Ireland, Colleg Brewey's Headless Dog, which is really nice.

We have a few beers here before we walk back to Newcastle - this time via the Swing Bridge - and head to the Crown Posada (which was closed on our last visit).

By now the beer was working it's way into our system and the level of conversation was at the "Miranda - funny or a waste of oxygen" level. Steve and I can't stand her, Tony just likes the first series (one series too much I fear).

The beer was good - Durham Apollo and Big Lamp Sunny Daze were lovely drops - and there were some vintage tunes being played on the old Dansette - including one of those old Top of the Pops albums. We could have stayed there all afternoon but opted instead to check into our hotel, have a quick wash and then try some other pubs.

Steve wanted to wander to the Bigg Market to see if much had changed since his days on the Evening Chronicle back in the late 80s. It had.

We were going to drop into the Bacchus but that was closed for renovation so we headed for a quick one at the Newcastle Arms.

From here we take a short walk to the Bodega which was strating to fill up with what looked like Primal Screa fans. Some decent beers again - Big Lamp's Prince Bisop Ale and the more-ish Avalanche from the excellent Fyne Ale's.

After a few pints we decided it would be prudent to get some food into us and so we headed to Chinatown where we had a great chinese buffet at the appropriately naed No 1 Chinese Buffet.

And then into the gig - a photo pass for me so I managed to shoot the first three numbers from the small pit in front of the stage. Just me and one other guy down there - quite different from the London gigs I've covered where there are usually a dozen or more and you have to jostle for a good position.

After the alloted three songs, I was thrown out into the merry throng who were re-visiting their youth as they danced badly to Screamadelica - Primal Scream's seminal album from their hedonistic youth.

(right) Andrew Innes and Bobby Gillepsie

These days the band are a lot more restrained - an expresso before going on-stage and no sherbets until after the gig. How very rock'n'roll!!

After the gig we meet up with Martin - we popped upstairs to the aftershow party but the music was just too loud that you couldn't hear yourself talk.

We wandered downstairs to their cosy little dressing room instead. Mani joined us after a while - "what happened to that dodgy old chairman, man?" he asked when we were outed as Darlo fans.

I sometimes think George would have made a great frontman for a band though he would probably be more like Screaming Lord Sutch than Mick Jagger.

After a while the band's rider is taken away by the cleaning ladies - the alcohol barely touched - and it is time for the band to return to their hotel bar while we three opt to finally call it a night...