By Leipziger
March 21 2011

Over the past 15 years I have probably seen the Falcons lose more games than they have won, and talking with a guy at work last week I said that because alcohol tends to intensify your present emotion, I tended to be happier after a Falcons win the more drunk I am, and more depressed the more drunk I am after a defeat.

So it is perhaps strange, since it was such a long day yesterday, that I didn't feel particularly unhappy come 5.15pm, especially considering for a long time it looked like we were going to be nilled. Perhaps if I had been in Alan Tait's position we would have been, because if I'd brought on Bobo I would have taken off Eves, rather than Fitzy, but perhaps that's why he's the manager and I'm just some nut on the terraces.

Of course it was too little, too late.

Heck, no point in talking much about the game. There are times you just have to hold your hands up and say we were beaten by a better team who were better organised and knew what they were doing. It happens to even the best teams every now and then.

London Midland's (alleged) striking drivers tried but failed to prevent Christine and Leipy making it to Northampton. On Friday night I spent about half an hour working out how to get home from Birmingham via Rugby should need be, and looking at hotels in Northampton, since the last London Midland train was leaving Milton Keynes at 18.22.

It was stressful (kind of, I didn't care about after the game, I'd have spent the night sat outside the station if I'd had to – wouldn't be the first time) until it hit me; Virgin trains might still be going from Milton Keynes later? Yes. Panic over.

At Christine's request (since she was coming from Hastings, I'd go with her idea), we got an earlier train from Euston than I'd intended and hit Wetherspoons in Northampton around 1pm. It seemed quiet until I walked through to the conservatory – sea of red and white.

I've always wanted one of those breakfasts at the Thomas Becket on the way to the ground in Northampton, but the promise of Brown Ale to complement the no-longer-lucky Polish beer tipped the balance for Wetherspoons.

We were certainly outnumbered in the centre of Northampton, but getting into Franklin's Gardens with over an hour to go until kick-off, those already inside were overwhelmingly Geordie. The car park of the social club by the ground was covered in black though.

Come half three Gloucester seemed to have two thirds of the Tetley's Stand, and an overwhelming majority behind the goal. The challenge was visually laid down and it was up to those of us with black hearts to respond. Nobody there will doubt that we did.

Gloucester scored early on through Tom Voyce on the far left, and Nicky Robinson converted before adding a further penalty. Jimmy Gopperth attempted two penalties, both of which looked good, but the touch judges were much closer to the goal than I was so if they say neither kick scored then who am I to argue? Luckily for us Robinson missed a penalty far easier than his earlier conversion just before half time.

The first half seemed to go very quickly for some reason, and it was overwhelmingly dominated by Gloucester, so going into half-time just 10-0 gave us some hope.

Too bad the Tractor Boys were even more dominant in the second half. I think pain was numbed by unexpected beer runs by Slacker and Hideo. I blame today's hangover entirely on Mrs Gunzee not wanting a shandy.

Robinson kicked a penalty in the second half, and whenever the Falcons got set pieces they played, which was probably correct considering we barely looked like scoring, might as well go for it. It didn't work.

Eliota Fuimaono-Sapolu (better known as “the little fella” I think) scored a converted try to put the game out of our reach. Come 15 minutes to go, 20-0 down, I for one had a big change in attitude. Too many points down, we obviously weren't going to win, so let's just sing a lot, bait the Cherries a little and try to enjoy what was left of the game.

Not long after Charlie Sharples scored to make absolutely certain of the result.

At least we got on the scoreboard, Luke Eves scoring what was nothing more than, and perhaps not even, a consolation try. I'd have taken him off for Bobo, shows what I know. The Wizard converted the try, for what it mattered.

Gloucester's attack in closing minutes of the match had an air of inevitability about it and replacement Darren Dawidiuk put the marzipan on the cherry cake, followed by the icing of Robinson's conversion.

The clock had already hit zero.

Thinking about the whole cup final thing, I think a win yesterday would have meant more to us than Gloucester and I wonder whether that might have been the problem. Following the build-ups this week the Falcons seemed to put pressure on themselves.

I must admit I've felt pretty high during the week leading up to the match, as I know so many fans have, and there's nothing wrong with that.  It's amazing what a smile can do even if you don't actually feel happy, and last week I found it very easy to smile.

But perhaps that's where we are as a club, days like yesterday are too big right now. It happens to a lot of football teams, not least Newcastle United twice in the late 1990s. Only Alan Tait and the players know what really happened in the lads' heads.

There is some consolation for those of us on the other side of the touchline though. A Gloucester fan said this week that they “invented rugby support”. Perhaps. But Newcastle Falcons have taken it to a new level and we proved it yesterday. Going to the match is about more than what happens on the pitch, it is about having a darn good time, and yesterday we did.

Bring on Sarries, and if, as I expect, we stay up, bring on Bucharest!