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It was 1984 when I realised I was being left out, every other Saturday. All of my friends were at least 1 school year above me and they were never around on a Saturday afternoon. On a Sunday street/lane kick about, all they’d talk about was "the match this, the match that". Well I wanted some. Having been regaled by tales of Supermac, European triumphs, John Tudor et al and fed a constant supply of NUFC info by my Dad it was time I saw it for myself.
Kevin Keegan had lead Newcastle United to promotion in his final season as a player. My reward for my incessant “Can I go to the match Dad?” was a trip to SJP for Keegan’s farewell game with Liverpool. The atmosphere had me hooked.
But 2 other things had got inside the head of this 7 year old. 1) Newcastle United were wearing the strip I’d got for Christmas and 2) my Dad pointed out that the "To Chris, Best Wishes, Peter Beardsley’" signature on my ball belonged to our little attacker. I’d be making sure this wasn’t a one off.
Keegan dominated the day, but it was Beardsley’s name on my ball.
The following season, I was allowed to go with the rest of the Dads and Son s and although the Manager, team and opposition had changed, Beardsley was still my favourite player. I had begun to understand that some players brought that extra bit of a lift to the crowd or a bit more ‘ummph’ in a roar of “Go on Son” when they picked up possession and in Beardsley we had that. Pedro’s moment to cement his place in my "favourite player bank" came in what, at the time, made my Dad the happiest I’d ever seen him. With only a smidgeon of the knowledge of the rivalry between us and The Mackems, we were off to SJP for the New Years Day derby and a Beardsley hat trick, including a superb left footed strike, which sent the Ground and in particular My Dad into ferocious celebration. I’d made the right choice. My hero was Beardsley.
The naivety in me at the time would mean that I’d fail to grasp the departure of Waddle, but my perches in the West Stand Paddocks (on Saturdays) and Gallowgate Scoreboard (Wednesdays) remained entrenched in the fascination of our little magician. His goals always seemed harder to score than those which came courtesy of our other players. A goal on a snowy pitch vs. Man Utd stands out in particular. He took penalties too, which I always liked. Again I recall a penalty against the then mighty Everton at SJP in 84-85 which further indicated he could score against the best. In 85-86 he was often the difference between us and other sides.
I think my Dad had realised before I did that off the pitch Pedro was becoming disgruntled and was frustrated on it by Jack Charlton’s fondness with height. Cunningham, Reilly and Whitehurst were central, Beardsley was forced out wide. His touches remained brilliant, his goal return was as good as anybody else’s and he was always our best option for a goal. He was the sole reason for my viewing of the Mexico 86 world cup. Having had no interest in our national side, I watched him make Lineker’s world cup, but by now I knew what exposure at this level would result in.
It took one more season before Liverpool stole him for what was then a record £1.9 million. I was heartbroken and the goals which were now being shared on videos I had found of his time in a black & white shirt just before I’d got to go to games made it worse. The trademark shimmies, mazy dribbles, powerful shots, delicate chips, the lot. Brighton & H.A. at home, Portsmouth at Fratton Park. Single handed destruction of Manchester City at SJP. What a player.
When he returned as part of a Liverpool side which butchered us at SJP I felt cheated, but it’s only looking back after a few years that I recall his return as a "visitor" being viewed differently to the "Judas" returns of Gascoigne and Waddle. Derby hat tricks eh? But life moved on and I got older. I tried a few other ‘favourite’ players, usually the ones who played in the same position as me (Outside Right), but it was never the same.
After the Kevin Keegan juggernaut had crushed Division 2 in 92-93 his blueprint for the Premier League included a partner for goal machine Andy Cole. This turned out to be Pedro, who by now had swapped Merseyside Red for Blue and also had perfected the art of the "free kick." I was over the Moon. A £1.5 million bargain. My first taste of watching Newcastle on Spanish holiday pub teles saw Neil Ruddock fracture Beardsley’s cheekbone, which rendered him unavailable for the beginning of our 93-94 season. But by the time he returned, he was coming into a very good side. Inspiring Cole to 41 goals and chipping in with 23 himself, we stormed to European qualification. Special goals were notched against Wimbledon x 2, Oldham, Spurs x 2, QPR, Coventry City in the cup and a rocket vs. Aston Villa. He was first class.
The next season was a transitional one. Beardsley was again crocked in our opener at Leicester. Cole moved on, but Beardsley was still sublime. Rakers against Arsenal and Crystal Palace, a scissor kick vs. QPR and yet more trickery with a goal which simultaneously bamboozled every single Aston Villa and Newcastle player on the park. There was also "that" fantastic strike vs. Norwich. He was still my favourite player. His temperament was top notch.
The following season he’d have to share the stage. Ginola and Ferdinand arrived. Of course team play was another major strength of his, his willingness to win the ball for NUFC was as impressive as any technique he exercised in our colours and knowing he was one of us made it just that bit extra special. So he shared the glory in our "nearly" season and exocet rockets still found the nets of Sheffield Wednesday, QPR and Nottingham Forest. How I would have loved to see my favourite player skipper us to winning the league and lift the title. He still would have time to notch against The Mackems, in our infamous win when all away fans were banned from the derbies of 96-97. As Kenny Dalglish dismantled the team of Entertainers, Beardsley looked to play out his distinguished career with Bolton Wanderers, Fulham and Hartlepool United.
He once applauded Alan Shearer onto the SJP pitch as he returned from injury, whilst wearing a Bolton shirt. The man just had so much class. In total he registered 321 appearances for Newcastle United and found the net 117 times. Not bad for a player once rejected for his small frame. He is a true legend in every sense of the word. He’s my first hero and it’s been a pleasure to watch him take pride in our colours, give 110% effort and bring a level of skill uncommonly seen in a British player to SJP.
Thanks Peter.
