Carabao Cup Final – Middle Age Fanclub

One trophy, two buses and three hundred thousand smiling faces!

In the past, I’ve laughed at train spotters. Standing there, jotting down names and numbers while possibly freezing to death and breathing in numerous different types of fumes. Surely that couldn’t be any kind of fun, could it? Well, on Saturday, I kind of understood where they were coming from because on Saturday I stood and waited hours for a couple of buses to come past and thoroughly enjoyed every last second!

Saturday of course was the Carabao Cup trophy parade and what a day it was. As a resident of Leeds I was up and out relatively early, calling in on my parents before heading across the river and along Scotswood Road to meet friends in town.

I was aware it would be busy, but seeing queues of people standing at bus stops in Sunniside, Whickham and Swalwell was still a bit of a surprise. I felt lucky that I wasn’t using public transport. And then, I got to the outskirts of town where it took me ages to park and when I eventually did I was right down by the river on Monarch Road, opposite Dunston Staithes. Almost a 2 mile walk to Monument where I was meeting my friends! Suffice to say, I was late!

The walk through town, turning into a run at some points to lessen my lateness, felt brilliant though. A sea of black and white, everyone in a good mood and a proper buzz about the place. The positivity felt tangible and after a while I realised that I was just walking along smiling.

At Monument there was a big hug from my best mate, who greeted me with a great shout of “We did it, we did it!” We’ve waited a while for this moment, travelled up and down the country watching our club and although astonishingly there were no tears, it was a close run thing. However, fully expecting to bubble like a baby when the bus went past, I was keeping my powder dry!

The atmosphere continued to gather energy and volume as we made our way through town. We settled on a spot by the new university building on Percy Street, smiling and gawping at the crowds as we went. Despite the fact that the council seemed to have removed the roofs of bus shelters, people were ingenious in their vantage points. The multi storey car parks full of people were a site to behold and then opposite us a load of lads had clambered up onto the Fusilier’s War Memorial, while others had climbed up into the tower of St. Thomas’ Church! All to watch a couple of buses come past!

It was gone 5pm when they eventually did come past. But the wait – we’re good at waiting – was well worth it. We could see Dan Burn from a mile off; in fact I spotted him only seconds after I’d spotted the bus! A beaming colossus, all shaking fists and screaming out his approval of what he saw before him. I didn’t spot Ant and Dec mind. Can’t think why!

A few photos, some applause and a bit of shouting later and they were gone, off into the distance. That was that. We followed everyone else up to the Town Moor, but didn’t last much more than 15 minutes, being as we were about a mile away from the stage. It didn’t matter. We’d come to see the parade, to let out decades worth of raw emotion, to sing, to smile, to laugh and maybe even to cry a bit more! Job done.

This was a city that lives and breathes football and has clung to its team for decades, sometimes in celebration, a lot of the time in blind faith and hope and at others just because the team was the brightest thing we had. Now though, we’ve tasted a little bit of success and I’m sure there’s a healthy appetite for more in the not too distant future.

For now though, there’s the small matter of finishing as high up the league as we can this year before hopefully building on our success with a few decent signings over summer. I’ve always said that there’s never a dull moment supporting the Toon. These last few weeks have been a little bit special though, haven’t they?

NUFC: Reflections on a Wembley win.

So, finally we did it. After over 55 years of hurt – 70 if we’re talking about a domestic trophy – for the club and however many years it was for you personally, we won a trophy.

“We won a trophy…” words I never thought I’d say or type. Even after the takeover, I still found it hard to believe. This was Newcastle United after all; a club of the past almost, we just didn’t win things anymore. I’d spent my whole life hoping for something, but every time we seemed to get anywhere near close, fate intervened. And then Sunday happened.

I wasn’t lucky enough to get a ticket for Wembley. I guess being in Pot Z for the ballot will do that though. I was ok with that. I’d be a nervous wreck at Wembley, I’d be a nervous wreck at home. It genuinely didn’t matter.

There were stories everywhere you looked on Sunday. Be it the players, the management, Ant and Dec, Shearer and family or just the people of the long suffering support. Stories just leapt out, left, right and centre. And while I could bang on – again – about what it all meant to me, I thought I’d focus on some of the stories instead.

I have to start with Eddie, as important as Ant or Dec might be. Now the most successful manager in the club’s modern history, it’s fair to say that he achieved legend status on Sunday. It couldn’t have happened to a nicer, more deserving bloke either. A grafter who instantly ‘got’ the club and who has been taken to the hearts of supporters and the city itself. I’ve said before that he had restored pride to the city and the region, but on Sunday, as the leader of that squad of players, he made the world sit up and take notice. He broke the hoodoo, lifted the gloom and broke all of the curses that we might have wanted to imagine existed – traveller’s curses, Wembley curses, London curses, cup final curses…all of them banished by Eddie John Frank Howe.

Now Eddie is usually pretty cool and calm on the touchline, but he was visibly invested and visibly moved by the events at Wembley. Fists shaking for every goal, joking in the interviews afterwards and brandishing that trophy in front of his adoring public in as animated a way as I think we’ve seen him in his 3 years at the club. It was a joy to watch.

The Carabao Cup Final served as a exemplar for how the club has changed in Eddie’s time. The build up felt different this time. Personally, I was no longer relying on blind hope and although I never told a soul, I genuinely felt quietly confident. I believed that we could do it. Belief; that’s Eddie again, that.

Newcastle United has become a culture, a movement, a belief under Eddie. As supporters we’ve had it for years, albeit at times somewhat fractured, but under Eddie the club is well and truly united.

What struck me as being most illustrative of this unity was the team photos with the trophy. When the squad gathered for the traditional champagne spraying shenanigans, there were something like 23 members of staff aside from payers. When it was done later, elsewhere, even the club photographer was urged to join in. Unity, a culture of winning and belonging right there. Newcastle United is no longer about individual stars, nor is it to be known patronisingly for its ‘magnificent’ fans. And it could be seen all over the place at Wembley on Sunday.

Those photos have been a feature of Eddie’s time in charge from the very start and it’s always been the same – everyone is involved; team, squad, injured players, staff. This is everyone’s effort and the trophy on Sunday was down to every last one of them.

Another story for me was that of those not quite so involved. Firstly, there were youngsters Lewis Miley and Sean Neave. Both looked a little bewildered at the end of the game, but both played their part. As squad members they were shown trust at the highest level. Miley has already experienced a lot in his time in the squad but for Neave, this must have been an incredible boost. It was good to see that this trust was given, rather than just taking the option of naming two keepers on the bench and I’m sure this will pay off in terms of the development of these two players in years to come.

It was a similar story with Will Osula, someone who seems to have settled into the squad very well and was at the centre of the celebrations on Sunday. It’s worth remembering that he’s still a very young and inexperienced player and yet there he was after the first goal in the thick of things with Dan Burn and again at full time carrying and spinning Alexander Isak around the pitch. A definite sign of the unity within the squad. At the other end of the scale was Mark Gillespie, rarely involved in what we might call ‘active service’ but always part of the group and obviously a valued member of the culture that has been created. Even Sven Botman, fresh from surgery, hobbled his way onto the pitch at full time. Everywhere you looked, the pitch was filled by those who had been working hard to get us to this point.

The final story for me belonged with the fans. But it wasn’t just those that were lucky enough to be there. 70 years is a long time to wait and for some, time just ran out. There weren’t many who could say they were alive the last time we won a domestic trophy. Bruno picked up on this in his pitchside interview afterwards. “People have died” he said, referencing the fact that not everyone had got to cherish this moment. This was far more than just a trophy. It meant everything to everyone and I’ve no doubt that there were many of us letting those we’ve lost know what happened this week. So while there were many tears of joy, there was plenty sorrow too. But while many of us spent time looking back on Sunday, we must remember that Eddie and the lads have now given us reason to look ahead.

Like many of you, I was in floods of tears at the whistle. I was fighting them for the whole of the second half, physically shaking for the last 20 minutes. Slumped on our living room floor I was mobbed by my Leeds supporting wife and son, who knew exactly what this meant. Minutes later, my phone rang. My 85 year old dad. I picked up but could barely speak. I wanted to say thank you for taking me to St. James’ Park in the first place and handing this on to me, but couldn’t find the words. Three days later and I still don’t think I can speak to him without emotion!

Now, after decades of hurt, Newcastle United are the latest club to win a trophy in English football. The wait is over and didn’t we enjoy celebrating? Same again next year? I’m sure we’d all love that, but let’s not build our hopes up just yet, eh!

An open letter to Eddie and the lads.

Dear Eddie, Mad Dog and the lads,

Chances are you won’t read this. Some random Geordie pouring out his heart in what might well sound like a bit of a sob story. Why would you want to read that? However, on the off chance that you catch sight of it and find yourself with a spare 5 minutes, here’s my ten pence worth about the final.

I think I speak for the majority of Mags when I say that this cup final matters more than almost anything else. It’s not about glory or bragging rights or anything trivial like that. It’s about dreams. It’s about pride in what and who we are.

Like many others, I’ve supported Newcastle United for a long, long time. In my case it’s well over 40 years. Others have served the cause even longer. It’s like an addiction, Eddie; a birth right and for a lot of us it’s been a cruel curse to be handed down to us by dads, grandads, elder siblings and the like. Like it is with any team. Many a time I’ve joked that I wish my mam and dad had lived in Barcelona or Madrid, giving me a legitimate chance at glory, not glory hunting. But it’s only ever been a joke. I wouldn’t change my allegiance to that badge and that black and white shirt for anything.

Some of my earliest memories are tragically Toon related. I still have a vivid memory of waving my dad off to Wembley in 1976 and then waiting at the window for him to come back home the next day. He’d gone full of hope if not any sense of fashion, dressed in black and white tartan flares and wearing a black and white Tam o’ shanter, no doubt drunk before he got into the passenger seat. That might explain his outfit as well! He returned deflated, a shell of the man who’d walked up the drive the previous day. I now know that it was probably more to do with a raging hangover, than the defeat, but at the time I just thought he was heartbroken. At least he’d seen us win in ’51, ’52, ’55 and ’69. He’d tasted the ultimate victory, sampled silverware.

My dad took me to games from an early age. I was born with a heart complaint and during one of several hospital stays I was sent a letter from the club, telling me how brave I was and rewarding my bravery with free season tickets whenever I was well enough to take advantage of them. I was already in love with the club. Now, I was obsessed. There was not going to be a chance that I’d ever be anything other than black and white from that point. I’d be miserable about it all for a lot of the time, but I’d be black and white. And that’s the point for loads of us. We didn’t get a choice, we didn’t need to be winning all of the time and we’d be loyal without a great deal of reward, but we’d stick with it and we’d never give up hope.

In my early years as a Newcastle fan, I thought it was only a matter of time before we won something. By the time I was a young adult I was already desperate to see us win anything at all and the nagging fear of ‘not in my lifetime’ was already eating away at me. King Kev gave me hope and glory, but in the end we couldn’t even win the Anglo Italian cup. It was Keegan who said that the fans had followed Newcastle through “thin and thin” and he was spot on!

Some years earlier, in 1989 I’d been glued to the radio as Newcastle played in the Football League Centenary Trophy, a tournament played over a weekend at Wembley. Our first game was against First Division champions Liverpool, so I held out little hope. Lo and behold though, we somehow won the game on penalties. This was it…silverware beckoned, I was going to be rewarded for my loyalty. I was finally going to be able to say that my team had won something, even if I didn’t really know what it was. And then we lost the next game against Tranmere of the Fourth Division! Typical Newcastle United!

I learnt to not get my hopes up pretty fast. Supporting Newcastle didn’t need to be about trophies, after all. Good job, really. It became about loyalty, community and a sense of belonging. Newcastle United was a huge part of my identity and year in year out I would give it the majority of my attention. Year in, year out, it let me down. Many managers and board members didn’t seem to care about us and it never really felt like a lot of the players understood what it was to wear the shirt. But I clung to the ones that did; Beardsley, Keegan, McDermott, Quinn, Kelly…the players of my youth. Your lads all seem to get it, Eddie.

We’ve seen Wembley appearances before, of course. Glorious failures in the 90s and the semi final in 2000. And then a couple of years ago against Manchester United. But at some point it can’t just be a day out anymore. In my time I’ve seen West Ham, Wigan, Leicester, Portsmouth, Coventry and even bloody sunderland win at Wembley, albeit it in the pizza cup. But if them, then why not us?

We follow Newcastle because it makes us feel like we belong and it’s a massive part of who we are. It’s rare I’ve felt as welcome as I do stood behind a goal surrounded by fellow Geordies singing my heart out. We support Newcastle because it’s our city, insular and fighting to make itself heard, yet welcoming to almost all. The best city on the planet. We support this team for hopes, dreams, friendship and pride. We support them because it makes us feel good; even when we get beat there’s a certain level of feel good factor. There’s enjoyment to be had, mates to see, strangers to bond with over a common cause.

Just for once, it’d be nice to feel rewarded in the more traditional sense though – being able to watch our players parade a trophy around the pitch. We don’t demand a team that wins, but just this once it feels like it might be the only thing that really matters.

Eddie, you’ve given us back a huge amount of pride. Given us a competitive team that just gets it, like we do and who are loved by the city as a result. Your team has rewarded those who travel thousands of miles to watch their team year in, year out. It’s added even more pride to wearing those famous stripes. It would be beyond words to see us win on Sunday. But I’ll still probably write about it, if you fancy a read!

On Sunday, the opposition doesn’t matter – we demand a team that tries, so get into these! Leave nothing on the pitch, lose your voice on the touchline and get back to Newcastle with no regrets.

Good luck, Eddie. Good luck, lads.

Ed & Jase’s Sunday Night Takeaway!

Five things we can take away from the Carabao Cup Final.

It didn’t end the way that we all wanted it to, but last Sunday, however you watched the game, was a one that will live long in the memory. Once I’d stopped sulking I wrote a few things down about what we might take away from our Carabao Cup final. So, for what it’s worth, here you go.

We’ve arrived. If we didn’t know it already, we’re kind of a big deal nowadays. It’s not that we haven’t been a big club before Sunday and it’s not like we weren’t getting noticed. But Sunday’s Carabao Cup Final appearance will have made a big difference. It’s not because of the performance on the pitch because while we were OK, we didn’t pull up any trees and certainly didn’t play to our potential. What will have made people sit up and take a bit of notice is first of all, the fact that we made it to a final. We were there. The effort put in by our fans will have been difficult to ignore too and I imagine that images of the black and white flags around Wembley, as well as the events around Trafalgar Square on Saturday night, will have gone right around the world. I mean, who could ignore a gazebo in a sea of black and white at a major London landmark? Sunday at Wembley will have been noted by potential sponsors, by kids around the world and by potential transfer targets and who knows; maybe some time in the next 10 years or so, when we sign some superstar wonderkid, they’ll be telling reporters about not about watching ‘Goal’ but about watching Twitter videos of fans coming off trains at Kings’ Cross singing about ‘that team we call United’ and thinking, I’d love to be a part of that some day.
Our city has pride again. I’m no longer a resident of Newcastle, haven’t been for years. But it’ll always be home, always be my home town. And watching fans at Wembley, listening to players speak of their desire and their pride had me close to tears. Make no mistake about it, Sunday was a big deal despite what some will tell you about a Mickey Mouse cup, and we can be proud of every last minute. We’ve gone from being the laughing stock of football during the Ashley years to being a team, a club and a city that absolutely matters. We’re a talking point again and we’re competing in meaningful games at the top level of English football. Even the stupidest of mackems can’t deny that.
The team have gained vital big game experience. It’s an obvious thing to say, but this team has come a long way in a very short space of time. And while the likes of Kieran Trippier have been there and done it, when you have a look around the squad there’s not a lot of that kind of thing knocking about. Some have made appearances at World Cups and Euros, but in terms of club football, big game experience is lacking. While the game itself clearly didn’t go to plan, the all round experience will be invaluable to our players. From young kids being around the squad for the week of build up to those players who got minutes at Wembley, it’s money in the bank so to speak. Let’s not forget the management team too, the majority of whom haven’t had such unique experience before. Eddie Howe’s notebooks will be like the complete works of Shakespeare after that one! There should be no doubt whatsoever that we’ll be back playing in big games in the near future. Now though, we’ll be armed with a bit more knowledge and a bit more experience and I feel sure that it will be vital in making a difference.
The squad needs investment. Manchester United boasted game changers with genuine quality in their eleven. De Gea, Martinez, Casemiro, Varane, Fernandes and Rashford all just had a little bit too much for us on Sunday. Even their bench had real quality sat there watching. And Harry Maguire. Meanwhile, we might well have ‘Bruno in the middle’ but genuine star quality is a little thin on the ground. What we have is a good Premier League eleven that are overperforming. Don’t get me wrong, we have some fantastic footballers in Tripps, Maxi, Miggy, Isak etc, but six of our starters were at the club during the Ashley years. Some of the squad were part of our Championship winning squad. These are players that have been outstanding for the club and they’re players that we love. And while I still don’t wish to deviate from the ‘evolution not revolution’ stance and have no problem with what Eddie Howe and the ownership are doing, it’s clear that more quality is needed.
We have to move on. For what it’s worth I thought we played reasonably well on Sunday. There were chances missed, blocks made and a little bit of bad luck going the other way. I mean, I think the better side won, but you’ll never convince that first goal was onside. You could make the VAR screen look like a child’s Etch-a-Sketch and I still wouldn’t say it was onside. Nor was it a free kick in the first place. What’s important now is that we move on quickly. There can be no hangover. Not with the likes of Fulham, Brighton and Liverpool chasing us and Spurs within touching distance in fourth place. Personally, I don’t want to settle for finishing 6th or 7th having also had a cup final appearance. I happen to think we’re better than that. I don’t think the players will sulk, but I hope some of our bigger hitters start grabbing games by the scruff of the neck now and pushing for one of those Champions’ League places. I hope that days like Sunday have whetted a few appetites.
Can someone have a word with Loris Karius about those gloves please? I wasn’t concerned about his past mistakes. I didn’t dwell on the fact that it looked like he could have saved their second goal. But sweet Jesus, I couldn’t get those gloves out of my head. It looked like he was playing in the kind of driving gloves last seen in the 70s or on the hands of present day octogenarians as they drive incredibly slowly to the shops. Brown bloody gloves? We might have got beat, but Manchester United should hang their heads in shame at the fact that only scored twice against a bloke that looked like he’d borrowed his gloves from Alan Partridge.

Let’s hope that we get Sunday out of our systems as quickly and that we can and end the season as strongly as possible. It’s been a hell of a season so far and I really hope we can keep on putting noses out of joint!

Howay The Lads!

The Carabao Cup Final: Let’s get positive!

Who would have thought it? Who would have imagined that we’d have travelled so far in such a short space of time? But, we have indeed come a long way and it’s fair to say that it’s been an amazing journey to be even a small part of.

When the takeover finally happened in October ’21, we all dreamed of something fantastic for our club. Just different levels of amazing, I suppose. While some fans imagined the signings of Messi and Mbappe, others dared to dream that we might, just might, see a trophy in our lifetime. Whatever level you dreamed at, we were all just happy to wait and see.

Sunday’s game, whatever your dream, gives us all something to get excited about. Forget the lack of our first choice goalkeeper, forget the opposition and their current form and forget our current habit of creating a ton of chances that we don’t seem able to finish. Sunday’s game is the stuff of dreams and it’s massively important that we throw everything we’ve got at it, both as a fanbase and as a team.

It could be argued that this final is a bit of a shock. Certainly, in terms of Eddie’s mantra of ‘evolution not revolution’ it’s arrived ahead of schedule. But that can’t be used as a reason for us as a fanbase getting our excuses in early. For me, expectations need to be high. This team has come together quickly and surprised lots of us and lots of people in football, but they’ve also proved themselves. Sunday is not just a free hit because we didn’t really expect it; we’ve earned the right to be there and it’s very much a game that we can win.

In our last two cup finals – the FA Cups of ’98 and ’99 – we flopped. Both times, the team looked overawed by the occasion and wilted against better opposition. Both teams contained enough quality to do a great deal better and yet both failed miserably. This year has to be different. Lots of us were devastated by those late 90s failures. I remember being rendered particularly speechless by the defeat in 1999. I remember beforehand, holding a genuine belief that we would win. Not could win it, but would win it. Of course, we didn’t. We were poor, passive, passengers, behind early and never really in the game at all.

I can’t imagine this team being anything less than 100% prepared. Eddie has proved time and again over the last year or so just how far he’s prepared to go to make sure that the team is ready. When he joined the club we were amazed and excited by simple things like his his early starts and active role at training. It was the least we could ask really, but compared to the previous regime’s habits with days off and openly admitting to a lack of interest in tactics, Howe and his team were a revelation; something to grab onto. And that has continued throughout this season to the point we’re at now and a visit to Wembley.

There are positives wherever you look in the squad. A defence that is among the best in Europe. Players playing with a renewed enthusiasm and style in Miggy, Joelinton, Sean Longstaff and Fabian Schar. The return of Bruno, possibly the best midfielder any one of us have witnessed in black and white. The maverick genius of Alain Saint Maximin, who in the last game looked back to his scintillating best. And up front, the choice of either Callum Wilson or Alexander Isak. We’re no mugs and we’re certainly not going there just to make up the numbers. We have a chance, and not just a puncher’s chance either. We can cause any opposition trouble.

I’ve never been an optimistic Toon fan. I think that type of thing was knocked out of me very early on in my life as a supporter. Even when Keegan came along – as a player and a manager – I’d still expect us to lose or I’d worry more about the opposition than anything. I’m still the same, because I think it’s ingrained in lots of us. But for this weekend I refuse to have anything but the utmost faith in this team. This Sunday, I choose positives over negatives.

Recently, Eddie Howe said this: “I believe we can win any game against any team, home or away, if we’re absolutely at our best and I think we’ve proved that this season. We believe the power is in our hands and it’s up to us to perform at our best levels.” No mention of anyone else’s strength. Just Newcastle United’s. I’m with Eddie!

If you’re there on Sunday, sing your hearts out, back the team as usual. If you’re watching on the telly, enjoy it. What an occasion for our club, so soon after many of us had lost almost all hope. Fingers crossed we can bring that trophy home because it’s been a hell of a long wait!

HOWAY THE LADS!

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