And so another season begins, with the same old mix of the bizarre and farcical that we've come to know and love from the black and whites. If you didn't have a sense of humour, watching this team would damage you in the head department...

To come halfway round the world and lose to Chelsea isn't wholly unexpected, if a little vexing. Malaysia, Wembley, wherever, if we played them on the moon I'd still feel the same loathing for Ken Bates.

However, despite the hogwash spoken in advance of the tournament by the TV bods and the typically cynical ticket pricing policy that ensured whole stands remained empty, this wasn't the real deal at all and remained a pre-season knockabout cum training session. You know, the ones managers habitually describe as "a good workout."

Ponder for a moment what the last meaningless trinket of this type was - the Japan Cup perhaps? Wrong. It was the Dublin International Tournament of 1997, which sticks as much in the mind of your correspondent for the prodigious quantities of buckshee Guinness that came his way at the brewery than for Bobby Lee lifting the tin pot after disposing of mighty Derry City.

Having said all that though, to throw away an early chance to win something, no matter how contrived and meaningless, for big Al to lift (missing from Dublin '97) and Bobby to entertainingly blather on about afterwards was regrettable.

And to drag ourselves back from the brink of yet another spot kick disaster only to then blow it courtesy of what was presumably a failed audition for the Billy Smart Big Top XI bears the true hallmarks of the toon.

We should really have known that England's former number nine was destined to leave a final with head bowed once again when his and our opening penalty cannoned back off the crossbar.

The casual two-step shuffle and consequent miss by Laurent Robert with our next kick (a reprise of his failure against Everton last season presumably inspired by Diana Ross at USA '94) seemed to seal our fate again this time, only for our man of the match Given to keep hopes alive with a save quite literally from a Duff penalty.

Then, with the Londoners only a Hasselbaink howk away from trophy success, the Irishman again pulled off a stop to send this increasingly engrossing contest into sudden death and threaten to inflict an early defeat on the Chelsea Russian Revolutionaries (whether Jimmy Floyd will be packed off to the gulag after this remains to be seen.....)

Was this at last to be a trophy win for Bobby and his beloved toon? Those of us in the ground of a cynical disposition exchanged baleful looks when Jenas strode forward to take his turn. And unfortunately we were to be proved right, in startling circumstances.

With alleged jigsaw men Dyer and Bellamy having retained their composure to convert and former Leeds duo Bowyer and Woodgate dispatch debut strikes professionally despite negative reaction from the crowd, we were at least entitled to hope that JJ would keep the pressure on.

Having had a quiet tournament, our unsellable rising star was no doubt under pressure to deliver despite the artificial aspect of the game - anyone who thought this was meaningless should have taken a look at Andy Griffin crouched in the centre circle unable to look, certainly not tired after only playing for nine minutes. Perhaps he'd seen JJ practicing his spot kicks.....during a session of ludo.

Unfortunately this particular young gun went off spectacularly at half cock, with an outrageous attempted chip that even Tiger Woods would have dismissed as too risky under the circumstances.

We'll stop short of trotting out the line that came from elsewhere about the perpetrator's head expanding in direct correlation to his increased profile and this miss being symptomatic of someone in danger of getting too big for their boots. But we'll certainly start thinking along those lines.

Hopefully JJ will be so chastened by this experience that he'll opt for a more conventional style the next time he's in that situation, hopefully in a black and white shirt and hopefully ahead of Mr L.Robert.

Sir Bobby employed the "learn from the experience" line in his after-match press conference but was rather less philosophical in the heat of the moment, the cameras appearing to show him saying "flaming idiot" (or similar) while the rest of the Newcastle bench tried variously to stifle their urge to laugh and / or avoid catching the gaffer's eye.

Without getting things out of proportion and at the risk of sounding like Brian Clough all the adulation in the world is meaningless if you haven't got the medals on your sideboard to point at.

It's as well to be waiting until trophies have been won before the showboating starts - even if it's meaningless contests in far-off lands designed to boost the fortunes of Rupert Murdoch & co. A little practice in giving victory speeches, posing behind placards and jumping up and down while those daft paper guns go off wouldn't have gone amiss - who knows, we might get the taste for it....

In conclusion, an enjoyable jaunt to the other side of the planet but some missed opportunities in the marketing "hearts and minds" department, not just by us but by the other two teams as well.

And as for those who turned up in their newly-acquired black and white favours, the chance to witness first hand what those wearing lovingly-stored old shirts from Singapore, Australia, Dubai and beyond already know. Despite everything they do you, you can't help but love them - if you swap your jersey for another one then you just didn't get the deal.

Roll on the Champions League double header and Leeds game and some real, raw emotion in meaningful contests.

Our own view of the Asia Cup experience is online here