December 2000, I was born a stone’s throw away from the majestic and mighty St James’ Park. My dad, a seasoned follower of the lads, was named after Newcastle United’s former number 8 and master of the midfield, Tony Green. I was signed up to the Junior Magpies before I could even talk. I never really had much of a choice; NE1 has always been in my blood.
Like all Newcastle fans, I endured years of ‘being average’. Not quite old enough to clearly remember the legends of the early Noughties, and born too late to witness The Entertainers, I was accustomed to ‘doing okay’. Oh, we’ll be okay. Oh, we might stay up. There’s always next season. One day, we might get a new owner. One day. One day.
The scrap to stay above relegation felt constant, and sometimes, it didn’t always work out. Championship seasons and European failures, last minute losses and beloved players leaving- attending the match became about having a laugh with my dad and my friends, and leaving the actual game on the pitch. More often than not, there wasn’t a lot to discuss. The conversations centred solely around ‘the good old days’, and the ways in which they were taken from us through poor ownership and those higher up. Still, this is Newcastle. Our Newcastle. My Newcastle.
October 2021, things change. My phone is buzzing, my friends are trying to get in touch.
‘It’s happened. Ashley is out.‘
Joyous scenes outside of St James’. Hope and a sense of what’s to come flows through the air.
‘I bet we sign loads! I bet we sign Messi! Are we going to get a bigger stadium?’ Many questions and statements ring around, but one can be heard above all others – ‘He’s gone!’
We were introduced soon after to ‘Bournemouth’s own’, Eddie Howe. A change in managers, backroom staff and style of play was welcomed with ‘open hands’, to quote our own Joe Willock. A difference could be seen almost instantly. Kieran Trippier lead the new-signing revolution, leaving the heat of Madrid for the bridges of the Tyne in a transfer that the media would never have predicted. He was followed by Bruno Guimaraes (later, simply referred to as ‘BRUNOOO’), Chris Wood, local lad Dan Burn, and Matt Target on loan. The success of the transfer window was flabbergasting, a million miles and a stark contrast away from those in previous years. Three points after three points saw us skyrocket out of the relegation zone and to a comfortable position. We finished the 21/22 season safely. A mid-table finale, with a fully reformed team. A United team.
Although not yet over, the 22/23 season has been a whirlwind. Signings of Alexander Isak, Nick Pope, Sven Botman, Anthony Gordon, Elliott Anderson and Matt Target on a permanent basis, and signings we are yet to properly see in action, such as Harrison Ashby and Garang Khol have expanded our team. We have earned the title of the best defence in the league. We’ve reached a Wembley final. We’ve beaten opponents who, this time last year, would have certainly robbed us of three points. Sometimes, it feels truly unbelievable.
I’ve been fortunate enough to watch the lads at every home game, and at quite a few away games. I’ve travelled to Sheffield, Southampton, Liverpool, London- up and, as I’m sure every fan who has experienced a journey to the South Coast on the bus will agree- very, very far down. I’ve seen heart-breaking losses, dodgy decisions and last-minute defeats, but have also seen incredible wins, stunning goals and some of our longest players becoming absolute screamers (most recently, Jacob Murphy. Incredibly ‘juicy’, Murphs).
But, perhaps what strikes me the most this season, is the mood in the fanbase. I’ve stood in the rain screaming along to chants with 50,000 other Geordies. I’ve walked through King’s Cross, in a sea of black and white flags and scarves. I’ve been lying in a hotel room, after a crushing loss in the Carabao Cup final, and still heard the distant whistle of ‘We’ve got Bruno in the middle…’.
I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say that this is the most positive and joyous I’ve felt about my club, probably ever. I’ve always loved our lads- all of them, from Carroll to Cisse to Gayle. I’ve always followed them, sang at the top of my lungs, and proudly pulled on my black and white stripes on a matchday. But this is truly the first time in years that I’ve walked to a ground with a spring in my step. That I’ve stood in a concourse, any concourse, and genuinely believed in a comfortable win. That a loss or draw hasn’t left me concerned (too much!) about slipping down the table, and being faced with that battle we know all too well. That I’ve enjoyed our football and our style of play just as much as I’ve enjoyed the time with my dad, and with my mates. I have a manager and players who I back with my whole being, and who I am excited to watch, week in, week out.
I’m sure that most people reading this would agree. It makes my heart, so incredibly full to see all of us- even those who I don’t know personally- making so many memories. I see kids with their parents, jumping and cheering. I see older fans on the bus, in their tattered scarves, reading the back page with a smile on their face. I see the team photos on social media, and it makes me certain that one thing is true; we are all one, all together, and all United.
This season, we’ve truly been Newcastle again. The Newcastle that I’ve heard about and watched videos of, for so many years. With Europe all but guaranteed and a handful of games remaining, I am so, beyond excited for what’s to come. In years gone by, I’ve often pondered what it would be like to have been born a Liverpool fan, or a Manchester City fan, or an Arsenal fan. I would look at them, occasionally with envy, but mostly with a sense of longing. But the love for my club and city remained deep, and now, I can proudly say: I am so proud to be a Geordie, and so proud to be a Magpie.
