Harry Spall is a North Shields lad who burst onto the world football scene in the late 40's as an internationally acclaimed goalkeeper at King Edward Junior School, North Shields. His career then took a nosedive as his grammar school in Newcastle only played rugby. This was a pity because his father had played for British Army teams in the First World War, Durham University, and then helped to manage Newcastle City Boys team in the 30's. But that didn't stop them from watching the Magpies at St James' Park. The Cup Finals in the early 50's were the highlight. Few people had television. You had to wait for the Pathé newsreels at the "flicks" to experience the passion. If you went to Newcastle you saw them a day later: in North Shields we had to wait a week or so. I can remember many of the names then much better than remembering players from later years. Wor Jackie, big Frank Brennan, Joe Harvey - the captain, Bobby Mitchell, Ronnie Simpson (and Jack Fairbrother before him), Ernie Taylor, the Robledo brothers. The same team played every week, no substitutes. I could get the #11 bus from North Shields, watch the match, get an ice cream at Toni's in the Haymarket afterwards and still have change from 2/6 (12 & 1/2 p). Attendance at the games was very different from today. No seats (except for the posh ones in the only stand), crash barriers to stand in front of (the crowd was very protective of little lads), the whole crowd swaying en-masse with a collective groan if a shot missed the goal. No B & W strips in the crowd of 68,000 - everyone wearing a cloth cap, muffler, jacket and tie, and overcoat. No stuck-up or petulant behaviour on the part of the players - Jackie Milburn would have been the first to rush over to congratulate Alan Shearer on his record.

Playing was a different kettle of fish. You bought your kit (Bukta strip) at Stan Seymour's in Northumberland Street. The boots were leather, which you faithfully dubbined before every game. I remember reading advice in the Hotspur comic that the best way to fit into new boots was to wear them and then soak your feet in hot water so they would shrink to your size. I did that once and couldn't get into the boots after they had dried out as cracked leather - several sizes too small. Screw-in studs (which could cause some nasty cuts). The ball was brown leather and was like kicking concrete when it was wet. If you headed the lace you could be knocked out. None of this Beckham-bending (or bouncing). North Shields had quite a good team then, playing at Appleby Park - long since demolished: Blyth Spartans and Bishop Auckland were the best amateur teams in the area.

I came to America in 1964 and lost contact with the day-to-day news about English sport (only Transatlantic cable and no Internet in those days). It was only when I retired that I started retracing roots in Geordieland. I was lucky to meet a friend from school days who had Director's Box tickets, and he has been very good in letting me have a ticket whenever I visit the area. Through this connection, my wife (a New Yorker) saw her first Toon game. She was apprehensive that it would be a riot. She was completely gobsmacked by 52,000 Geordies all yelling "Shearer! Shearer!"

I found out about the North American Toon Army through watching matches at the British Embassy in Washington, DC. Mark and Allison and Gary deserve a lot of kudos for energizing the enterprise. It was definitely a top ten event to see the lads when they visited DC and Columbus in 2000. And to watch them practice and get all the autographs and a photo taken with Big Al.

All Toon fans are obviously disappointed with the present situation. On paper we have some world-beaters - but circumstances apparently beyond their control are conspiring to thwart them of some silverware. The big wages, and lack of responsibility and dedication of today's young players obviously play a part. But Geordie fans have an unbelievable faith and passion for their team. And we know that we will not only survive but eventually bring a trophy to St James' Park. Where it rightly belongs!