Well that was a depressing last day of the transfer window wasn't it? Not only did we lose our number 9 (not going to name him) but we also made a desperation offer to Ashley's old pal Dave Whelan for Mr. Insomnia. Which was rebuffed. Where do we go from here?

I'm honestly lost for words. The last 7 hours (at the time of writing this nonsense) have been painful and agonising to watch. I dare say that productivity in offices across Newcastle and beyond has been close to zero today as various stories were leaked across offices, schools and wherever else you may have been today. The Evening Chronicle reported that our (ex) number 9 wanted to stay this January and beyond. Within hours of this hitting the streets we were being led to believe that the striker had handed in a transfer request and was reportedly keen on the move to the land of fantastic lawyers. Just before the deadline, the smug Scouse reporter for Sky Sports confirmed that the deal was signed and he would take over the vacant number 9. Many had hoped the deal would fall through. Myself included as I would have enjoyed seeing him rot in the reserves for 6 months for betraying the club as I thought he had. Until I got a message that he had, in fact, reiterated his desire to stay despite the fact that Llambias had told him that he must leave as the money was too good to turn down. The club played this out as a "transfer request" but I'm told this wasn't the case...apparently our ex star striker's hand had been forced.

People will make up their own minds over this. Maybe the ex-number 9 is trying to save face by claiming he didn't want out. Maybe our darling board of directors are trying to do the same. The truth is though, in football you cannot trust anybody.

We appeared to be building the foundations of a good young side. We have Jose, Simpson, Tiote, Ben Arfa, Taylor, one of the keepers and that striker we used to have. It was the foundation of a very exciting team that could be challenging for Europa spots for years to come. Now that the ex-number 9 has joined the divine righter's - one can't help but feel the floodgates may open in the summer. Of course, I could be wrong - we may well replace him with a class striker (although I'm struggling to name names right now). But right now I feel robbed. An hour ago it was by the old number 9, now I'm not so sure.

What I can say is, seeing that picture with the clueless twonk Dalglish makes me feel a bit sick. In December, you'd think the world was going to end the way Liverpool fans were going on. Truth is, most of them wouldn't know football suffering if it smacked them in the face. The worst they have had to face was a couple of mid table finishes over the last 30 years. Now they have managed to come up smelling of roses again whilst we face the prospect of scoring no more than 10 goals this season with our current strike force.

Do I wish our academy product luck over on Miseryside? Nope. No matter what the real goings on around this saga are - he could have said no to Liverpool. After all, he just signed a 5 year deal in October. But we move on and have another important game at Fulham on Wednesday.

Welcome to Stephen Ireland by the way...hope you've remembered your crash helmet. It's going to be a bumpy ride.