A thrilling goalless draw was personified by an unlikely hero, who seems always to be hurling himself into a headwind
It seemed fitting that Newcastle’s final active part in this game, deep into stoppage time, should feature Dan Burn wheeling away deep on the left wing, bouncing red shirts out of his orbit, cheered wildly by an away support led by a pink, shirtless quivering man who seemed utterly intoxicated by this spectacle, mainlining it, high on that sweet, sweet Big Dan Burn energy.
This was a thrilling, messy, infuriating 0-0 draw; a messy, shirt-grappling, highly entertaining wrestle of a game. This was the kind of game where half of the stadium crowd screams and punches its fists at the fourth official’s electronic board for the crime of showing a mere five minutes (only in football do people scream furiously, genuinely wounded, at a digital board).
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