Can Mike Ashley still be regarded as a successful businessman? His sportswear empire has been haemorrhaging cash, and his clueless involvement in football has hammered his wallet. His decision yesterday to stick rather than twist at Newcastle United will further deplete his fortune.

More importantly, it will further damage this once great football club, and sadden the hearts of its hundreds of thousands of fans. Mike Ashley is no longer a successful businessman, but he is certainly still a f*ddl*st*ck*ng t*gb**t.

I’ve not written about Newcastle United so far this season. That’s because, after 16 years as a season ticket holder, this summer Mike Ashley drove me out of the club I love. I decided not to renew in the hope that Ashley would depart, and with the determination that he wouldn’t take my season ticket money with him. As it transpired, Ashley didn’t go anywhere. So I did.

This was not an easy decision – and it hurt. I felt guilty at abandoning my team, and angry that I was being pushed away. And, of course, I had nothing to do on Saturday afternoons. I spent my season ticket money on Sky Sports HD, but that overhyped emperor’s new outfit hardly filled the void.

Inevitably, I couldn’t stay away for long, and I’ve been back to enough individual matches this season to determine that Chris Hughton’s team, thin in number and talent, is top of the Championship by virtue of the standard of the league being absolutely woeful. Saturday’s Newcastle United versus Doncaster Rovers match was, for long periods, excruciatingly bad, like watching two hungover pub teams. And the worry is that things are going to get even worse.

Perhaps the most surprising thing about Saturday’s match was the attendance – a remarkable 43,949. That’s just 239 less than watched Liverpool versus Manchester United in the Premier League 24 hours later. Newcastle’s home attendances in the Championship this season have averaged 41,251 – well over 10,000 more than any other team in the division, and more than almost every Premier League team with the exception of Man United, Arsenal, Liverpool and Man City.

That’s an incredible show of support for a club that has treated its fans with such disdain over the past year or so. But, ironically, the faithfulness of the fans, and the huge injection of cash they continue to provide, has offered the stability that allows Ashley to stick around.

Yesterday, Ashley announced that the club has been taken off the market. He clearly believes that the team will win promotion, and the value of his hobbyhorse will subsequently rise. Last season he clearly believed that the team would avoid relegation, and that his investment wouldn’t implode. The guy knows less about football than a chimp knows about quantum physics.

Meanwhile, Chris Hughton has been appointed as permanent manager on an 18-month contract. There is no question that Hughton is a decent bloke who has done a more than decent job with the paltry tools afforded to him. But, by his own admission, he is not a manager. He is, however, both cheap and a “yes” man. He will not be kicking Ashley’s door down during the January transfer window, and he’ll continue to toe the party line in press conferences. And he isn’t that pesky Alan Shearer. All good news for puppet-master Ashley.

For the players, the permanent appointment of Hughton is unlikely to inspire greater effort. It seems more likely that they will get out the deckchairs, pipes and slippers. There has been much talk of the team spirit that Hughton has fostered, but he has also abandoned many of the disciplinary measures introduced by Shearer. The players no longer eat together, and are no longer fined for persistent lateness. Injured players are no longer required to attend the training centre for ice baths and extra treatment. No wonder some of the players are happier. No wonder some of them are persistently late and repeatedly injured.

The final insult in Ashley’s announcement was the claim that he will look to sell naming rights for St James’ Park. This is not an out-of-town, flat-packed, identikit arena of the type inhabited by the likes of Middlesbrough, Bolton or Wigan. This is a city centre stadium that has evolved as a hub of its community over more than 100 years of history. Any new name would be ignored by all right-thinking football supporters, and any interested sponsor should think very carefully about the implications of becoming involved in such a deranged scheme.

Ashley doesn’t even properly own the stadium. And he certainly doesn’t own the fans who fill it. What does he own? The contracts of a bunch of overpaid, overrated and unloved players, and a big thick wad of debts. Does that really constitute owning a football club? The fact is that without the fans Ashley has nothing.

The day St James’ Park is renamed the Cillit Bang Arena is the day we should all finally withdraw our support and our money, and leave Mike Ashley to count the cost of destroying one of the world’s greatest football clubs.

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My book about Newcastle United is Black & White Army.

Football Newcastle United

Hal Graham, the first man to officially fly a rocketbelt, has died. The following is an edited extract from The Rocketbelt Caper:

Harold ‘Hal’ Graham was a 27-year-old science graduate from Buffalo who had been working for the Bell Aircraft Company as a test engineer for just over a year when he was selected to be the first man to pilot the rocketbelt – the iconic flying jetpack created by engineer Wendell Moore.

It would be Graham’s first taste of flying. He was not a registered pilot, and the only machine he had previous experience of driving was a car. He was, however, a rocketbelt fan, having grown up with Buck Rogers comics and Commando Cody serials. When Bell began to ask around for a volunteer to fly the rocketbelt he had no hesitation in applying for the job.

Graham’s first tethered flight took place in March 1961. These flights took place in a large aircraft hangar. The rocketbelt was suspended from the ceiling, and small amounts of thrust were used to generate moderate lift. 36 tethered flights later, it was time for the safety ropes to come off.

The very first untethered rocketbelt flight took place at seven in the morning on 20 April 1961. A 20-man Bell crew gathered at an empty clearing near the Bell plant on Buffalo’s Niagara Falls Boulevard and opposite the Niagara Falls Municipal Airport, which had been specially closed for 30 minutes. The crew ran through a detailed checklist in preparation for the flight.

Then Graham, wearing a black rubber suit, white helmet, work boots, and goggles, released the throttle in a short burst to check the propulsion. All seemed fine. Again he released the throttle, this time successfully lifting the belt around 18 inches from the ground in a thick cloud of steam, and piloted it in a straight line at a speed of around ten miles per hour.

The noise was incredible – an explosive roar of gas as loud as a pneumatic drill. And visibility was poor – almost zero according to Graham – due to condensation created by the rocket exhaust.

On the first free rocketbelt flight Hal Graham flew for 13 seconds and covered a distance of 112 feet – eight feet less than the Wright Brothers had covered in their inaugural flight. It was nevertheless a thoroughly triumphant debut.

Following the success of the test flight, Bell executives were keen to unveil the remarkable device to the public. After 28 test flights, Wendell Moore was satisfied enough to agree to a public demonstration.

The first public rocketbelt flight took place at Fort Eustis, Virginia, on 8 June 1961 at a demonstration of new technologies. Light bulbs flashed and film reels rolled as Graham piloted the rocketbelt into the air, legs swinging below him. Against a backdrop of Air Force planes, Graham maneuvered the rocketbelt over a truck, and higher into the sky. He flew to around 15 feet, and then descended, bouncing slightly as he landed on his feet. Graham then offered a salute.

After removing his fire suit, Graham was mobbed by the press. Microphones were thrust into his face, and pencils jotted down every word he said. Bell officials handed out press releases which began, ‘Harold M Graham is believed to be the first man to fly with back-carried rocket equipment.’

The story made the front pages across the US. The New York Times headline read, ‘Portable army rocket propels man 150 feet in 11-second test flight.’ Life magazine said, ‘Graham was strapped to a hydrogen peroxide-fuelled rocket. The Army hopes it will someday make all foot soldiers look like Buck Rogers.’

One week later, Graham demonstrated the rocketbelt on the front lawn of the Pentagon in Washington DC in front of a huge crowd of military personnel.

Then, in October 1961, Graham, Moore and the Bell crew travelled to Fort Bragg in North Carolina to participate in another military demonstration, this time as part of a display of combat readiness. The demonstration was performed in front of a notable guest of honor – President John F Kennedy.

Graham, wearing a US Army uniform, took off from an amphibious landing vehicle, flew across a pond in a spray of water, and landed 14 seconds later on a sand embankment in front of JFK. Graham remembered to salute but forgot to depressurize the belt in the excitement of the moment, although he managed to remain on the ground. ‘Mr Kennedy was described by an Army Officer sitting near him as “wide eyed and open mouthed, just like a kid”,’ reported the Buffalo Evening News.

The public interest and publicity surrounding Graham and the rocketbelt generated much correspondence. Letters requesting public appearances began to flood the Bell offices. One man wrote to Bell requesting the use of the rocketbelt in order to claim a $1 million treasure trove that, he claimed, he could only reach with the use of the belt. Suspicious Bell executives turned the request down.

Although Hal Graham could now proficiently fly the rocketbelt, he was still not a registered airplane pilot. In November 1961 he decided to do something about that. He began to take flying lessons, and qualified for his pilot’s license in July 1962. That year also saw the debut of the B-Series rocketbelt. The new belt was engineered to reduce weight, and, as rocketbelt pilot, Graham was kitted out in a brand new bright yellow flight suit.

But Hal Graham’s short career as a rocketbelt pilot was coming to an end. During an ill-fated demonstration at Cape Canaveral, Graham fell 22 feet, landed on his head, and was knocked unconscious. He survived the crash, but decided to get out of the rocketbelt business. Graham made 83 untethered rocketbelt flights during his time at Bell, but he left the company in 1962 to pursue his new love of flying traditional aircraft. He set up his own one-man, one-plane charter flight company in Crossville, Tennessee.

Hal Graham died in Nashville on 22 October 2009, aged 75.

Watch Hal Graham fly the rocketbelt (YouTube)
Visit Hal Graham’s rocketbelt website

Books, Technology Hal Graham, The Rocketbelt Caper

Newcastle Brown Ale will not longer be brewed on Tyneside, Scottish & Newcastle has announced, making you wonder what appreciation anyone at the brewing conglomerate has of its world famous brand. Brewing will be shifted to Tadcaster, but the drink will still be labelled ‘Newcastle’ and sold by the boatload around the world. What a sham.

In fact, the last true bottle of Newcastle Brown Ale was brewed in April 2005, after which S&N’s Tyne brewery was closed and demolished, and production was moved across the River Tyne to Gateshead, at the Federation Brewery. The ‘Fed’ will now close, with the loss of 63 jobs.

Given that Scottish & Newcastle has previously closed its Edinburgh brewery, you could be forgiven for suggesting that it should now just call itself ‘&’.

Created by Colonel Jim Porter in 1925, Newcastle Brown Ale is one of the world’s most famous and bestselling beers. But if it isn’t brewed in Newcastle – or at least on Tyneside – then shouldn’t the famous name be abandoned?

Certainly, there’d be hell on if Geordies started producing champagne. That’s because of the appellation control that prevents food and drink from being manufactured outside specific regions. So Melton Mowbray pork pies, Parma ham, Jersey Royal potatoes, Feta cheese, Dutch Gouda and Welsh lamb are all protected.

But there is no such protection for Newcastle Brown Ale. I, for one, will never buy it again until its place of manufacture matches the name on the bottle. Now I’m off to Greggs of Gosforth to buy a Cornish pasty.

I co-edited and contributed reviews to The Non-Beardy Beer Book.

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