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About Newcastle

I knew this chick once, Candy – swear that’s her name. She’d strut in, order a gin fizz, tip like a queen. Said she made more in a night than I did in a month. Happy as hell for her, but damn, that stung! “God doesn’t care,” she’d say, laughin’. Sounded like somethin’ from *A Serious Man* – all cynical and shit. Made me think – maybe she’s right?

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I’m feelin’ all warm inside, ya know? But then, I get this call from my mate, Dave. He’s stuck at the pub on Bridge Street. Apparently, he’s lost his wallet. I’m like, “Dude, how do you lose a wallet?” But I can’t leave him hangin’, so I pack up quick.

"Never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d be managing a side in Ulster. It’ll be an honour and privilege...."