Doon Toon

Dear Newcastle United,

By the time you read this letter you will have hopefully had time to wake up and face the realisation that you no longer have a Premiership team.

For the first time in twenty years, you're in the second tier, and I'm sure there are plenty more tears in your Newckie Brown.

You gave Mr Shearer his millions, with the promise of more if he kept you up, but to what point? He may walk on water, but he can't polish a turd.

I'm glad Manchester beat Hull, despite me cheering for the Tigers all the way, because I know if you'd gone down due to Mr Ferguson playing his second team you'd have cried 'foul'.

But if Hull had won, it would not be because of a team of teenagers that you went down, it was simply that you weren't good enough.

Mr Ferguson had 38 league games to pick teams that would give him enough points to win the league, and get to the Champions League final with a fit, winning team.

He only needed 37 games.

You had the same opportunity, without the added pressure of Europe, and you fucked it up.....

Blame Mike Ashley.

Blame King Kev for walking.

Blame Owen for always being injured.

Blame whoever you like if it makes you feel better, but just face facts, you played shit all season.

Now you can stop telling us about how you're too big a club, and there's too much history, and you've got the best fans in the world, relegation could never happen.

Go ask Leeds, Norwich, or God forbid, Notts Forest.

Spend the next season with your heads down learning some humility. Don't expect to win every game. WANT to, then be grateful when you do.

Do not gloat when you wallop Scunthorpe 5-0 at home, because if you get complacent they might just return the favour on a cold December midweek game.

You still get to enjoy a local derby with Boro, but try not to get too nostalgic as you see the Macams team bus heading off to Manchester...

Now back to your bottle of dog to have a good hard think about what you've done(or rather not done) - I'm off to enjoy my moment of Zen.

Yours sincerely,

Slippymark