GEORDIES have always been acclaimed for their hospitality but, even by their own sociable standards, the welcome afforded to Michael Owen yesterday was something rather special.

He didn't show off his searing pace or pinpoint finishing. There were no flashing drives or mazy dribbles, and he didn't even throw in a bit of ball juggling to prove his footballing worth.

Yet 15,000 supporters still flocked to St James' Park to watch him parade in black and white. Heaven knows what's going to happen if he ever puts the ball in the net.

A camera crew recording footage for the feature film "Goal" joined television companies from around the world as Newcastle's £16m man signed on the dotted line and committed the next four years of his life to Newcastle United.

It is only to be hoped that the Owen saga does not form the centrepiece of the movie - the story would never be believed.

England's golden boy shuns an emotional return home to sign for the club that has forgotten how to win. The nation's favourite number ten joins Newcastle's legendary number nine to form a Geordie dream team.

Impossible? There were plenty still thinking that way as the clock ticked past 12 o'clock.

Perhaps Liverpool had thrown a last-minute spanner in the works? Maybe Roman Abramovich had offered Owen half of Siberia to join Chelsea?

But then, to the strains of rock band U2, the 25-year-old emerged into the St James' Park sunlight. Twenty-four hours earlier, Graeme Souness was complaining: "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For." Suddenly, Owen's arrival made for a "Beautiful Day".

Standing in front of a packed Sir John Hall Stand, the England striker, who still looks as fresh and innocent as ever, soaked up the acclaim of his new-found fans. For some, it was simply too much to take.

"I came to the ground when Alan Shearer signed nine years ago," said John Carridge, a 43-year-old mechanic from Byker.

"My little boy was two then and I held him in my arms. He's 11 now and he made me come down here with him again. He's been taking the mickey because I warned him I might cry.

"We've had a few bad years, but this shows we are back. All the fans have ever wanted is something like this."

With a mixture of dedication and desperation, they flocked to show their respect. Football on Tyneside is invariably described as a religion - this was pilgrimage on a huge scale.

Used to outpourings of pride on Merseyside, Owen had no doubt expected something to mark his move to the North-East. Even in his wildest dreams, he cannot have anticipated this.

"I have never seen anything like this in my life," he confessed, as thousands of Geordie youths roared his name. "The one thing I can bring in return is goals."

Then, showing the same powers of evasion he uses on the pitch, Owen carefully dodged questions about his love of Liverpool and insisted Newcastle were in no way second best to their Premiership rivals.

A politician's answer if ever there was one and, as if to emphasise the point, the England international went on to spend most of his time on the hastily-assembled stage kissing babies. If football ever proves too taxing, an alternative career at Westminster clearly beckons.

He even had his family on hand to offer support and guidance. Wife Louise waved him on to the pitch, while daughter Gemma Rose raced from her mother's arms to meet him.

She was clad, inevitably, in black and white. A tiny top boldly emblazoned with her father's name.

Like so many others in the crowd, she also boasted a gold number "10" on the back of her shirt. Somehow, it was fitting.

A golden day for English football's "Golden Boy". Now if only there was something silver to make the dream complete.