YOU could be excused for calling it the Curse of the
Toon.
Some might call it the Curse of Kevin Keegan.
What is undeniable is that managing Newcastle United is one of the
most demanding, formidable and fractious jobs in the business. In
fact, its almost unmanageable.
When Keegan was England boss, he asked a few of us whether we
thought his time at St James Park had been a success. I told him
it hadnt because of the simple fact the club had not won anything
during his time on Tyneside.
This surprised him. He replied: But what about the football we
played? Isnt that what its all about? On that score, I reckon it
was a tremendous success. Youre being a bit harsh.
He was right. Newcastle may not have won the title for 80 years.
They may not have won the FA Cup since the glory days of Jackie
Milburn in the 50s.
Their last piece of relevant silverware may have been the European
Fairs Cup in 1969.
But Geordie fans still judge every manager on what Keegan brought
to Newcastle in the mid-90s.
Yes, they blew a 12-point lead at the top of the table in 1995-96
to let Manchester United back in.
They then started like a train the following season before, again,
having to settle for second place.
But Newcastle supporters loved the style. They loved players like
Peter Beardsley, David Ginola, Les Ferdinand, Alan Shearer and
Philippe Albert.
Embedded in their memories is the outrageous chip by Albert that
concluded the 5-0 demolition of Manchester United at St James in
October 1996.
But that was as good as it got. Keegan left after falling out with
the board and it has never really been the same since. That magic
has never been recaptured.
No, they never did win anything but the memories are still vibrant
with the team playing football the way Newcastle United supporters
liked their football to be played. In fact, it was the way EVERY
football fan wanted their team to perform.
And that, for many of us, has appeared to be the root of the
problem at Newcastle.
In that all-too-brief spell under Keegan, the people of Tyneside
were treated to a mesmeric, mind-blowing drug.
Their club were up there with the very best at many times, they
WERE the very best.
Yet the owners of the club the people least-well equipped to deal
with success because they had no experience of the years of famine
took the Keegan era for granted.
In their minds, it would continue. They became arrogant, full of
themselves, thinking it was they who wielded the magic wand.
The Halls and Freddy Shepherd strode about the town and elsewhere
imagining they had unlocked the door to success.
That it was all down to them. That whoever they appointed, the
glorious dawn created by Keegan would continue and they would
bathe in the magnificent rays of summer that would follow.
After Keegan, well, just go for another big name. Except Kenny
Dalglish, fortunate to inherit a powerhouse at Liverpool, was found
out on Tyneside.
Ruud Gullit and sexy football? That didnt last long, either. It
was all heading in the opposite direction.
The men who ran Newcastle were discovering that sexy names big
footballing stars who they hoped would make them look good did
not work.
And then they went back to their roots. Bobby Robson was a Geordie,
here was a man who knew and understood the locality, a man of
enormous character and pedigree, a man who would weld together the
club and the fans.
And he did. Three top-five finishes. Champions League football
and still it wasnt enough.
Still Shepherd wanted more. But what did he want more of?
He and the Halls had made untold millions out of the club. You got
the feeling that now that was all they were interested in.
And so it was Graeme Souness, Glenn Roeder and now, the final
casualty, Sam Allardyce. Shepherd sacked Robson and, in his final
act, appointed Allardyce. What a legacy. Having made £40million or
so, why should he care?
And so we come to Mike Ashley. A man known best of all in the City
for his reticence, he suddenly became a man of the people, a
co-traveller with the Toon Army in his black and white
jersey.
Along the way, he heard all the gripes and moans. Novice that he
is, he believed them.
And so he came to the knee-jerk decision to sack the manager.
Because, like so many chairmen before him, he thought that would
make him one of them by doing what the fans wanted.
Newcastle supporters, though, are living a very old dream.
Keegan made them believe they were one of the elite and yet their
record over the last 50 years suggests exactly the opposite.
The 50,000 who pour into St James every other week may find this
unpalatable.
But the last decade is not so much under-performance as par for the
course.
Its time to wake up.
