A strange old day in more ways than one. Our season had finished weeks ago with the point at Blackburn and with the Cup Final and league title all done and dusted, this one had the air of an end of season friendly. Only a couple of issues concerned us - could we possibly end our dismal record at the Saints, would Shearer get the goals needed to finish the Premiership's top scorer and would the mackems fall through the trap door back to where they belong?

The latter never seemed likely and to even imagine it was to tease yourself with an impossible dream. Shearer scoring twice was more of a possibility with van Nistelrooy and Jimmy Floyd seemingly having already hung up their boots and Terry Henry also nursing an injury. Two goals seemed likely to be enough with one maybe sharing the honour. Whichever way you looked at it, our no.9 is still England's no.1.

The Potters Bar rail crash and scare stories about getting to this new venue had made it a nervous journey but unless we just hit lucky, two quid in a public car park had us parked within site of the ground - better than most Premiership venues. It still wasn't the ultimate dream presented by The Dell which, if you got in that clinic car park, had you twenty yards from the pub and 50 yards from the away turnstile.

As expected, the atmosphere was warm and friendly with red and white stripes and black and white mingling all over the different watering holes of the city. A sight that still doesn't sit easily on the eye despite the absence of Reg Farty logos. The ground itself is much like Reading, Stoke, Derby, Boro, mackems etc. etc. They were all made from the same Meccano kit, only some had paid for a few extra pieces - Southampton hadn't....

It still beggars belief that these new grounds are built with the sole intention of making life as awkward for the customer as possible. How these places get planning permission with such awful transport provision and inadequate sanitation is beyond me. Walking to the ground over a railway bridge, revealed what looked like a rail station. Good idea eh? Errr, on closer inspection it was a disused line and a bike rack. A bike rack for at least 500 bikes. That'll be for all the away fans then who made the 350 mile journey on two wheels...? Mind, how many home fans crawl out of bed on a Saturday morning and think, 'ah yes, I'll bike it to the match today'?? Judging by the empty rows, not many.

There may be double the number of seats that The Dell offered but the place still has the feel of a little club. It's probably a preconception but there's something about little kids with faces painted, rattles and music when they score that just screams out little club. Again, the red and white stripes probably contributed.

Poor old Matt Le Tissier. Let's hope his testimonial is better organised than his pre-match presentation. He hesitated a couple of times before walking onto the pitch just as some budding DJ was making the team announcements sound like CD UK. It was only Le Tiss' loping gate and the size of his conk that gave any clue to who was waving about a bit of cut-glass. Still, the black and whites gave him the reception he deserved (pre and post match) despite his one-man vendetta against our club.

The first half was so poor to mention anything other than the goals would be to unfairly exaggerate its impact. Our defence looked all over the place again. We have a fantastic ability to make two attackers seem to outnumber four defenders. Our midfield was again uncompetitive; Dyer, Solano and Robert leave Speed with too much to mop up in the middle and with LuaLua juggling and flicking upfield, the ball is lost too often for our midfield to cope with. A player like Kevin Gallacher could lend a hand in midfield but not little Lua.

The opening goal was probably deserved on the run of play but Pahars' scuffed effort fell fortuitously for Svensson to tuck inside the near post. My initial reaction to the penalty was that Ormerod had set off his own personal land-mine (similar to Poborsky when we stuffed Man United at St.James') but most others thought it was a definite penalty. When Beattie's spot-kick made contact with Shay's right hand most of us thought he'd saved it but the net soon bulged and we were two-down. 

The other point of interest was Given landing up a boot up the backside of LuaLua as he tried to take up position on the near post for a corner. Shearer was already standing there and the rollicking he and Shay gave our little treasure should mean he doesn't do that again in a hurry....

We started a bit better in the second half and threatened the goal in front of the away supporters with a bit more purpose. Dabizas missed a couple of sitters and Robert still showed his inability to decide when a shot is better than a cross and vice versa. When he looked to have made the wrong decision yet again the keeper fumbled badly and ex-Saint Shearer finished from inside the six yard area.

Game on. It was strange how important getting an equaliser then seemed to become and when Dyer raced clear another Toon goal looked a good bet. However, with the ball in acres of space and Dyer nowhere near it, El Khalej produced his own particular two-footed exocet to bring down our England hopeful. It was a staggering assault and you knew that Dyer was in immediate agony as he held his head in his hands. A red card, although inevitable, seemed irrelevant. 

Exactly where this unprovoked exhibition of unadulterated malice had come from is still a mystery, probably even the Moroccan himself can't answer. This was not a clumsy challenge - the ball had long since gone - it was not a Willie Young clip of the heel (Arsenal-West Ham Cup Final) it was a definite attempt to cause serious damage to another player who was clean away. The sort of thing that causes 11 v 11 brawls on parks' pitches.

As ref D'Urso fumbled around his pockets, stalling for a few seconds as his linesman confirmed the only possible decision, the defender even had the nerve to enquire after Dyer's well-being. Shearer was quick to point out that his concern was as badly-timed as the devastating lunge moments earlier.

And that was it - all out war on and off the field for at least half an hour. Exactly how this most benign of afternoons had all gone sour is something that will cause the scratching of scalps for years to come. For Dyer it was more than that. It was a personal tragedy. After what he's been through this season to suffer that was just so needless and cruel, that you couldn't help but feel for the lad.

We probably came close to a second a couple of times but I honestly can't remember and when Telfer finished us off in injury time the only feeling was one of annoyance and bewilderment at the way the victory was celebrated by the home fans. The win was worth a few quid in terms of league position but you'd have been forgiven for thinking that Telfer was Bobby Stokes in disguise....

Robert was again swiftly down the tunnel - off to update his website again, no doubt - but most of the side came and threw their shirts into rows A-E, with Shearer possibly making row L with his superior technique. Steve Harper waved from a distance which may possibly be a fitting finale to one of the best second choice keepers we've ever had. He deserves more than just to help Shay with his warm-ups.

All that was left was for Richard Littlejohn and the other fools he inspires to call him on Radio 5Live's phone-in, to make the blood boil with the most inane and ludicrous rot about England. But amid the stupidity came the news that Whitley Bay had won the FA Vase at Villa Park. A reminder that a real game of football had at least taken place somewhere that day.

Niall Mackenzie