I am not, never have been and never will be a Newcastle United fan. But I must confess to feeling an unexpectedly substantial tinge of joy last Sunday as the Magpies lifted their first domestic trophy in nearly three-quarters of a century.
Why? Because as a supporter of another consistently underperforming team, I can only imagine how that victory felt to one of the most passionate and loyal fan bases on the planet.
There was footage of one old chap leaving Wembley using his black and white scarf to dry his face from the tears of joy still rolling down his cheeks. Magic!
And while I am sure Liverpool’s fans would have been extremely happy to lift their first trophy under Arne Slot, nobody will be able to persuade me victory for them would have meant nearly as much as it did for the long-suffering Toon Army.
As a supporter of another consistently underperforming team, I can only imagine how that victory felt
Over the past 70 years Liverpool have lifted countless trophies, including dozens of league titles, FA Cups and League Cups; not to mention a pretty decent haul of European titles.
Since 1955, Newcastle’s only success came in the 1969 Inter-Cities Fairs Cup, a triumph that makes you leap up and shout “What the hell is that?!”
They have had some great teams, superb managers and magnificent players; but for reasons known only to the football gods, they have not been able to break that silverware jinx. Until now.
I can’t imagine the size of the party that has been taking place in the northeast of England over the past week. The only people in the city without hangovers are those too young to consume booze or those who are still drinking.
By breaking the duck, current manager Eddie Howe has written himself into Newcastle folklore and secured his status as a club and town legend for eternity. They will be erecting statues, changing streets names and possibly offering up their first-born to a man who has done what the likes of Kevin Keegan, Kenny Dalglish, Ruud Gullit and even the legendary Bobby Robson couldn’t.
There will be those saying that they only achieved this thanks to their Saudi Arabia takeover which, ostensibly, made them the richest club in the world. I don’t buy into that. They have bought players and strengthened the squad over the past few years, true. But that isn’t a new development for a club that spent £15 million on Alan Shearer way back in 1996, making him the most expensive player in the world. And that didn’t buy them the trophy they craved.
So no, this isn’t a Saudi thing. It’s just a big club breaking a long-term jinx, and I, for one, am happy they did so. It gives me hope that Sheffield United may one day break their own 100-year drought...
The not-so-secret seven
England could end up with a staggering seven teams in next year’s Champions League.
It would take a bizarre combination of events mixed with a huge quirk of fate for it to happen, but happen it could.
If, come May, the top four remained the same as it is now – Liverpool, Arsenal, Chelsea and Nottingham Forest – that’s them four into Europe’s premier competition.
Next you would have the fifth-place team – currently Manchester City – as England are likely to be awarded an extra place based on the overall performance of English teams in Europe.
So that’s five.
Then, if either Tottenham Hotspur or Manchester United win the Europa League, and assuming they don’t finish in the top five, (which is a pretty reasonable assumption), that would be a sixth Champions League slot.
The final and most tenuous of the permutations needed for this magnificent seven to happen would be Aston Villa winning this season’s Champions League while also finishing outside the top five. Unlikely, yes, but not entirely impossible.
Let’s say all this did happen, would it be a good thing for English football? Well, if your objective is to show that you are the dominant league that is financially streets ahead of all other European leagues, then yes.
But having that thrown in your face is only going to make those other leagues feel like they need to take action to redress the balance a little.
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is when the European Super League will raise its ugly head once again...
Dan the man... finally
Sticking with the Newcastle theme, what a week Dan Burn is having.
Dan Burn. Photo: Paul Ellis/AFPDan Burn. Photo: Paul Ellis/AFP
The six-foot, seven-inch defender followed up last weekend’s League Cup success by joining up with the England squad where he is hoping to make his debut during this international break. At the ripe old age of 32.
That he has been called up despite being ‘old’ in footballer terms is testament to his never-say-die attitude because, believe me, if you look at his career path, there have been plenty of times where you wouldn’t have blamed him for giving up.
He was released by his beloved Newcastle United as an 11-year-old, then lost a finger in a childhood accident at the age of 13. Considering he had started out as a goalkeeper (not surprising considering his height) that would probably have been enough to make most people chuck in the towel.
But he moved to outfield and kept plugging away, and by the age of 16 he was working in a supermarket while playing non-league football for Blyth Spartans, a far cry from the luxuries of St James Park.
Yet Dan never gave up, fighting his way back up the football pyramid, division by division, club by club, eventually returning to Newcastle for £13 million in 2022.
How’s that for coming full circle? It’s one of those journeys that almost feels like it was scripted by movie executives.
And if the lad goes on to cement a place in the Three-Lions squad for next summer’s World Cup, I wouldn’t be at all surprised if Hollywood does come knocking...
E-mail: james.calvert@timesofmalta.com
X: @maltablade