With Tyneside reeling last week from the news that Kevin Keegan had quit Newcastle United in a huff for the second time (or is it third, it's so easy to lose count...), the stampede of news crews to the doors of St James' Park was only matched by that of an enraged Toon Army.

Keegan is revered in the North East and the fans wanted to voice support for their hero. Nothing wrong with that, of course – passion is what often sets football apart.

What was very wrong, however, was the makeshift banner displayed by two of Newcastle's finest in front of Shearer's Bar that read: Keegan goes – Boycoutt the club.

(As an aside, why is it always fans of northern clubs who can be found outside their team's ground on a workday when a big story breaks?

Do employees who support the likes of Newcastle, Manchester City and Liverpool have a clause written into their contracts that they can have time off whenever a Sky News truck is spotted within 200 yards of their team's home?)

Anyway, almost as bad as the illiterate banner at St James' was the fan pictured in the following day's Sun newspaper throwing his team shirt into the Tyne as a protest. The report also revealed his £543 season ticket had met a watery end.

Just what this achieved is open to question, as surely with most clubs having disposed of the book of tickets that were torn out at the turnstiles before each home game in favour of a credit card-style pass – which, crucially, floats – then all this fan was doing was putting himself in danger of a £75 fine from a council jobsworth for polluting Newcastle's main artery?

Once the initial furore over Keegan's departure had died down, other, more thought-out protest ideas started to emerge with initial calls for a supporter boycott of the game against Hull City (which would only have penalised the team and those who have already bought season tickets) giving way to fans being urged not to buy any merchandise or food and drink in the stadium tomorrow.

A march through the city centre has also been mooted, timed to arrive at St James' at 3.15pm to try and ensure the game kicks off in front of thousands of empty seats.

On a wider scale, influential fanzine and websites have also called for a boycott of other businesses owned by Mike Ashley such as Sports Direct and Lillywhites.

Whether this guerrilla action will work remains to be seen, but it got this column thinking about other more unusual protests by football fans.

In Yorkshire, both Doncaster Rovers and Hull City fans have paraded coffins either around the ground or through the town when it seemed their clubs were in danger of being killed off.

Tigers devotees were also responsible for the unique sight of Boothferry Park being littered with tennis balls during a League Cup tie against Bolton Wanderers after relations with then chairman – and former David Cup tennis player – David Lloyd had hit an all-time low.

As impressive as these were, though, this column's favourite protest came in the mid-Nineties at Burnley.

Dissatisfaction with the club's management had grown steadily throughout the season so when Crewe Alexandra came to Turf Moor in February, a plan that became known as the '3.33 Protest' was hatched.

It led, at precisely 3.33pm, to thousands of Clarets fans suddenly turning their back on the match for two minutes.

But this was not, however, what made the Burnley protest so memorable – it was instead the response of the Blackpool fans visiting Turf Moor three weeks later when, with 33 minutes on the clock during the first half, they all jumped to their feet in the Cricket Field Stand, turned their backs to the match and chanted 'let's all do the Burnley, let's all do the Burnley...'

It was a classic piece of fan banter, though admittedly not quite as funny as the attempts at spelling by two members of the (Car)Toon Army last week.