Letters to my sons.

Dear Son,

not long after you were born I wrapped you in a Newcastle United top with the name Caudle on the back. This son, I’m sorry to say, may be a curse. When Alan Shearer announced his retirement I thought this was an omen. He would retire around the same time that you would be born – but he decided to carry on for another year. That’s when the wheels fell off – at the Railway Bridge perhaps – last season. We were dumped out of the UEFA cup, then the FA Cup and then two Newcastle players had a fight with each other.

My hope for you is that you’ll become a professional footballer earning many millions of pounds. We can hang out it night clubs together and I’ll keep you safe from the Jordan types, casting my eye over the gold digging peroxide on display and making the wrong choice – so you don’t have to.

Just like politics son, when it comes to watching the Toon on the telly, I’ll be shouting at the telly.