The end is nigh

The demolition of Wembley began in earnest today, and I've got mixed feelings. On the one hand, it was a fucking awful ground as far as spectators were concerned - if, like me, you're anything over about 5ft 5", you found your legs crushed against the back of the seat in front. There are also personal footballing reasons to be glad of Wembley's demise - having shelled out £90 in successive seasons (1998 and 1999) to watch Newcastle capitulate in pathetic fashion to Arsenal and then Man Utd in the FA Cup Final, helping both secure the domestic double, I think it's understandable. Add to that our 4-0 humiliation at the hands of Man Utd in the 1996 Charity Shield and the agonising and wholly undeserved 2000 FA Cup Semi-Final defeat to Chelsea, and I could perhaps be forgiven for positively rejoicing at the fall of the twin towers. On the other hand, though, as a fan of football in general, and one embarrassingly prone to bouts of wistful sentimentality, it's hard not to feel some sadness.

Anyway, here's to the future - a brand spanking new national stadium to rank alongside the fantastic Millenium Stadium in Cardiff. And let's hope Ken Bates's involvement is minimal - what a horrible little gnome he is.