It Must Be Love

In March this year, Newcastle United ended a 70-year drought and won their first piece of domestic silverware since 1955 with the 2-1 League Cup victory over Liverpool. In fact, it was the first trophy in any form in 56 years, after 1969’s European Fairs Cup victory.

As pretty much everyone I know was at Wembley, and my family were away, I went round to watch it at my friend’s house with his family, and it was one of the best days of my life. Liverpool, still set to win the premier league this season, were in incredible form (admittedly bar a Champions League exit at the hands of Paris Saint Germain), and yet this was not a win Newcastle got away with. They were dominant from start to finish. I couldn’t name you a single player who didn’t have the game of their career, but the highlight of course was local lad and Newcastle fan Dan Burn, shortly after receiving his first call-up to England at the age of 32, scoring the opening goal with a towering header following Kieran Trippier’s corner. Dan Burn who was released by Newcastle when he was 11, who played non-league football and worked in Asda before working his way up the ranks and eventually returning, in what was thought to be the twilight of his playing career, to his boyhood club. What I would have given to have been in the stands at Wembley when that ball hit the back of the net. Toon talisman Alexander Isak may have scored the winner just after the break, but I think the opener is what will live in fans’ memories forever.

And perhaps that is because Burn’s journey reflects the journey the club itself has been on. A long wait, with a lot of pain, both in the last century pre-Keegan’s entertainers, to the long-suffering days under Mike Ashley, including two relegations. Not to mention heartbreak in the final of the same competition in 2023. This meant so much to so many who have given years and years of devotion and loyalty to a club that, despite all the success they had on the pitch under the likes of Keegan and Sir Bobby Robson, and the many goals scored by players like Les Ferdinand and Alan Shearer, had never had anything to show for it until now.

And what a show it was. I may not have been at Wembley, but I was there on the 29th March when the team brought the trophy home. When what I believe was a record-breaking 300,000 Geordies turned up to watch the bus parade and line the Town Moor to watch their heroes celebrate in style. I can confidently say I enjoyed it more than the final itself. And I haven’t waited nearly as long as some people.

I love this Newcastle United team. I love their dedication to their supporters (just watch the reaction of Brazilian legend and club captain Bruno Guimarães as he wept with joy about what it meant to give something back to his Tyneside fans), I love the intensity of the way they play, and I love this manager, Eddie Howe, with his blend of professionalism, motivation, and hard work, which shines through in the respect he commands from his players. It was nice to see that calm demeanour slip for just a moment as he shared in the elation of his squad.

And that’s a squad that may include some phenomenal players who cost a lot of money, your Isaks and your Guimarãeses, your Tonalis. But it is also a squad that contains players who have been here long before times were so good. Jacob Murphy (another boyhood fan) and Fabian Schär were in that starting lineup. Players who have just grown and prospered under Eddie Howe. People may also forget that it was oft-maligned local lad Sean Longstaff who scored the winning penalty against Nottingham Forest in the second round to start the whole run.

It was, in every way, the fairy tale that this club and this city deserved. But it wouldn’t be football if there weren’t hordes of naysayers. People who mocked Newcastle for celebrating the league cup, calling it a “Mickey Mouse Trophy,” and Paul Scholes laughing at the idea of Eddie Howe receiving a statue for what he’s done for the club. I really don’t think these people understand what it means to follow a team the way we have. I doubt they ever will.

But it would be wrong of me to ignore the other criticism levelled at Newcastle’s hard-fought victory. And that is the fact that, in 2021, the club was sold by Mike Ashley to a consortium primarily backed by Saudi Arabia’s sovereign wealth fund, PIF. The specific accusation that the club has received, and that has reared its head again now following this victory, is that this move was “blatant sportswashing” by the Saudis, drawing attention away from the darker side of the regime, such as the political imprisonment, and of course the brutal murder of Saudi journalist Jamal Khashoggi.

The victory and the parade were not the time or place, in my opinion, to level this accusation at our club. But that didn’t stop it happening. That said, I do think that it is fair to have this discussion, from a realistic and fair perspective.

Many Newcastle fans would point out the Saudi investment in other sports, or the Saudi investment in Disney, or Uber. Now, that is whataboutery, and there’s no point pretending it isn’t, but I think the reason fans engage in this whataboutery is because they don’t like the accusation that they, as fans of Newcastle United, are somehow complicit in Saudia Arabian atrocities. Many see it as a personal attack, and I think that’s fair. When legions of fans flocked to St James’ Park in 2021, they weren’t celebrating the Saudis, they were celebrating the end of an era being owned by a selfish businessman with no interest in the prosperity of their football club. During local lad Sam Fender’s famous hungover appearance on BBC Breakfast the next morning (remembered more for the quote below), he described it as primarily being because “Ashley’s out,” stating “I’m happy for the fans, for the city” but also describing it as “bittersweet” and mentioning the need for “transparency in the future.”

Now, I won’t pretend that there wasn’t a lot of ignorance too, and that there isn’t still a level of ignorance (fans wearing Saudi outfits, waving Saudi flags etc.), but my idea of sportswashing, which, let’s face it, is probably real, is not quite that Mohammed bin Salman, in his plan to grow his country’s influence in the modern world, intends to do that by moving a handful of daft Geordies from a position of not knowing who he is, to not caring what he’s done. No, I think that he is making calculated investments in a world that makes those investments available to him, growing his soft power everywhere and remaining largely unchallenged. And I don’t like living in that world, but it is the world we live in.

This is club steeped in history, and with an extremely fierce and loyal fanbase. I think that is what attracted Eddie Howe when he arrived, not the prospect of Saudi millions (and let’s face it, Eddie Howe was hardly a big money appointment, and hasn’t always been backed by the club). What he and his players have done for this club has been for this club, which was here forty years before Saudi Arabia was founded. Newcastle United’s ownership is not Newcastle United.

A nice example of this was, following the takeover, when some influencers fans sold their souls and clearly took Saudi money to promote the country to their followers, they received near-universal derision from the majority. Because that’s not who we are.

People like those influencers are sellouts - the naysayers are right about that. But we call them out, and it’s a cheap accusation to say that a grown man, who has followed his team for 50 years, breaking down in tears as he enjoys victory in his city, has sold his soul. What about the banner unfurled at the next home game in memory of all those who should have been there who weren’t? Men like my Grandad, or my Great Uncle Malcolm, who worked tirelessly for the success of the club and helped to spearhead the Keegan era, both who sadly passed away in recent years. People who lived long lives but never saw anybody lift the trophy, passing their love onto their children who saw that wish come true. Is that incredibly powerful sentiment meaningless and corrupted? Really? The regime isn’t the club any more than Ashley was. We still support the team.

And, for fear of sounding like a broken record as I return to the idea of this just being the world we live in, as someone who is a little sad about the idea that the club may leave St James’ Park, about the rise of the corporate nature of success, or homegrown opinions like that of Paul Scholes popping up in the future, I’ll have to hand over to the aforementioned Sir Bobby Robson, as I have done more than once before, because I don’t think this quote has ever been so apt:

And if you must still level your accusations after everything I’ve said, at least ask yourself this. What were PIF investing in back in 2021? Why is Newcastle such a big club? What convinces anyone to follow a team through misery and defeat, year after year after year? Why does a so-called “Mickey mouse trophy” attract 300,000 people to the streets? And why were we here before them, and will still be here long after they’ve gone?

Put quite simply, it must be love. Not tainted love, as some would have us believe, but true love.