I’m currently working on the Newcastle 'Goodcompanionaround'. My working title is ‘How I learned to love Metroland.’ I have been thinking about some of the friendly social interactions I have experienced in Newcastle. An anecdote my father told me many years ago came to mind. My Dad spoke highly of ‘the Geordie’, as he called them, on the the basis of one event. He went to a cup game at St James’s Park on the 25th January 1958, to watch Newcastle v Scunthorpe. He was standing at the back of the terracing that ran along the University and as the crowd surged forward and then back, he, and a number of his fellow Scunny fans fell off the back of the terrace, some six feet or so. Newcastle fans (fans were mixed in those days) reached down to lift the stranded Scunny fans back on to the terraces. This kindness was from Newcastle fans whose team were losing 3-1 at home. Now, football fans are meant to be middle class. We’re are also, apparently, meant to hate each other. I wonder if anyone has told ‘the Geordie’?