Back in the day when life was carefree and movement unrestricted, Glenn McCrory and myself used to host a Ten Club once a month.

It was a get-together of like-minded folk all resplendent in black tie who broke bread, quaffed a little wine, and indulged in yarns of great derring-do.

We would invite a mixture of sporting celebs and top business people. Among those of fame were the likes of Jack Charlton, former Newcastle skipper Mick Martin, Olympic athlete Mike McLeod, Steve Black who coached the Falcons, Wales, and the British Lions, world champion boxer Johnny Nelson and Lennox Lewis's manager Frank Maloney who later became Kelley.

We once even went over to the south of France during the Cannes Film Festival to put on our monthly extravaganza. All challenges were accepted!

Well, being under current house arrest made me wonder and yearn for those good old days. So I thought about a couple of dinners involving just Newcastle United as our dose of soccer excitement is non-existent - one with those of yesteryear and one of personalities still very much with us.

I thought I would restrict my guests to six instead of 10 as a gesture towards social distancing and, having wiled away many a fanciful moment drawing up my guest lists, here they are with Gibbo explanation attached.

Hughie Gallacher, Bobby Robson, Stan Seymour, Colin Veitch, Jackie Milburn, and Len Shackleton.

Why this particular Super Six I hear you say?

Well let us start with wee Hughie. I've always been attracted to, well, colourful characters because I find them more interesting than one dimensional Mr Straight Laced. There are so many layers to peel away.

I know how great a goalscorer Gallacher was from the record books which would be worth delving into itself but it would also be intriguing to get close to a tortured soul apparently bent on self-destruction yet always capable of doing so many outrageous things on the field as well as elsewhere.

I met Hughie on a few occasions late in his life when I was but a teenager. He was a courteous little fella who called everyone 'sir' . . . until he had a drink. Then he became a demon.

I also got to know his son Hughie Jnr when McCrory and I made a TV documentary on United's original No 9 legend and I found him both loyal and proud of what his father had achieved.

Others? Well Colin Veitch was obviously a rare individual. An original.

During United's Edwardian heyday of glorious success Veitch was hugely prominent as they won three Football League Championships (1905, 1907, and 1909), their first FA Cup in 1910, and were FA Cup finalists an incredible five further times between 1905 and 1912.

A unique figure in the history of the game, Veitch was a versatile tactical innovator whose life off the pitch was every bit as fascinating as his successful football career.

He was a great lover of the arts and co-founded the People's Theatre in 1911. An accomplished playwright, composer, conductor and producer, he counted George Bernard Shaw among his circle of friends, was a prominent member of the Professional Footballers Association, and served in France during the First World War as a 2nd Lieutenant in the Royal Garrison Artillery.

Oh and upon returning to Tyneside after his football days were long gone Veitch became a journalist with the Evening Chronicle. In 1929 he was banned from the St James' Park Press box for his outspoken views.

Who wouldn't want to meet a guy with such varied depth? Imagine his conversation round a dinner table. He wouldn't be short of a few words.

The four others I not only met but knew well. It's just that I miss Stan Seymour, Bobby Robson, Jackie Milburn and Len Shack and would love one more evening chewing the fat with them about the grand old days.

All four were outstanding players while SS and Sir were top managers too.

The foursome have a very special place in United's history but Wor Jackie in some ways more than all others. Never meet your heroes, they say, but I did and he didn't let me down one little bit. In fact he increased his sky-high standing if that was possible.

We wrote a couple of Newcastle United books together. A kinder man, a gentler soul, a more modest superstar I have never met.

Shack, who uniquely scored six goals on his United debut, was my room-mate on all our Fairs Cup trips and was terrific company. He wrote a chapter in his autobiography entitled What The Average Director Knows About Football and left the page blank!

I was to become a director with Gateshead but as Shack told me directors used to come up to him, nudge him in the ribs, and tell him he was right.

"They all thought I was talking about the other guys," laughed Len.

Mike Ashley, Alan Shearer, Joelinton, Ian La Frenais, Chris Hughton, and Mike Mahoney.

Oh I can see a few eyebrows raised at these dinner guests!

Why Ashley? I'll tell you why - because he won't answer a solitary single question from the media and here he would be locked in a room for several hours and would be bombarded with difficult, searching questions not little lobbed balls for him to smash to the boundary. Why? Why? Why? he would be asked.

As for Joelinton I would like to ask him one question. Why when you have the No 9 on your back are you terrified to penetrate deep into the penalty box searching for chances even if hurt is almost inevitable?

Shearer would simply provide an air of greatness . . . and the ability to tell Joelinton exactly what is required of someone doing his job at a club where centre-forwards are revered.

Chris Hughton, an absolute gentleman, would I suspect resist pointing out anything unpleasant to Ashley about his shocking treatment at SJP where he did an unbelievable job amid chaos. Never mind, he would have the chance.

I had strongly considered SuperMac of course, a very special mate, but I sit next to him at every United home match and therefore we hardly need an opportunity to talk whereas it would be a fascinating catch up with an old Whickham neighbour Mike Mahoney who has spent the bulk of his years since playing here either in America or Bristol.

Mind you, I would be taking a risk with the Big 'Un - he got me back on the fags after a year's abstinence when he kipped on my hotel floor in LA before the 1994 World Cup final and, having not indulged the wicked weed since shortly after returning from the Sydney Olympics, I have no wish to relapse again.

As for Ian La Frenais, he would be my Geordie superfan. Someone from the terraces who cares with a passion like so many of us and could tell the likes of Ashley what it is really like to be stripped of ambition and hope. Perhaps Ashley would listen more to him than me.

La Frenais is the writer of such epics as The Likely Lads, Auf Wiedersehen Pet, Porridge and Lovejoy who travelled all over England the Europe with me when I was exclusively on the Newcastle beat. He took the players' wives out to see Billy (based on the novel Billy Liar), starring Michael Crawford at the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane the night before the 1974 FA Cup final and also put on the after match party.

There you are. You know my two lots of Newcastle Super Sixes. I wonder who you would invite to your imaginary house party!

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Just imagine Ashley, Shearer and Hughton around the dinner table - my NUFC dinner guests - Chronicle Live