When Gazza was dribbling, he used to go through a minefield with his arm, a bit like you go through a supermarket.
I'm not going to look beyond the semi-final — but I would love to lead Newcastle out at the final.
What is a club in any case? Not the buildings or the directors or the people who are paid to represent it. It’s not the television contracts, get-out clauses, marketing departments or executive boxes. It’s the noise, the passion, the feeling of belonging, the pride in your city. It’s a small boy clambering up stadium steps for the very first time, gripping his father’s hand, gawping at that hallowed stretch of turf beneath him and, without being able to do a thing about it, falling in love.
He never fails to hit the target. But that was a miss.