The Geordie French Connection

The Premier League is full of clubs that, throughout history, have proven to do away with logic and sense in favour of self-implosion. Season after season leaves debris strewn across the footballing landscape, with managerial sackings, wantaway players, crushed dreams and financial tomfoolery amongst chief executives almost a certainty before a ball is even kicked.

Indeed, tales like the sorry saga that unravelled at Portsmouth only serve to dismiss the belief that top-league status nourishes expectant fan bases with years of untold success; I’d hazard a guess that most regulars at Fratton Park would rather the team that took them to FA Cup glory weren’t thrust with multi-million salaries complete with agents that ‘deserve’ a slice of the pie, too. If a financial balance isn’t struck, clubs may not just only overstep the mark but plunge into the abyss.

It is further remarkable that a team such as Wigan can gallantly claw above the relegation zone year after year with crowds that half-wish they were at the rugby. Yet owner Dave Whelan underwrites millions of debt each year, and without such a beneficiary not even the world’s biggest television deal could do anywhere near enough to stop them sliding down the football pyramid. Such is the sport’s state of affairs.

However, we can home in on one club that, almost by rights, should have established a firm foothold in the Premier League and possibly a trophy or two to show for it. They are proud owners of a stadium that tops a capacity of 50, 000, the crown jewel of a city that hosts an army of rabid, and occasionally half-naked devotees at each game. It is of course, Newcastle United.

Yet if we play the word association game, success won’t be uttered out of many people’s mouths. Untapped potential, the could-be and could-have-beens, a circus that turned a club from the cusp of contendership to what can only be described as pure satire. The nosedive can be traced back to 2004, with European qualification for the last three years decidedly not adequate enough for the late Bobby Robson to hold onto his job. Though planning to retire at the end of the season, it only took Chairman Freddy Shepherd four games before deciding that sentiment, perhaps, was the reason why Robson had remained in charge. Consequently, he was denied the opportunity to keep the house in order and pass the torch over to a new man who could have a full summer to prepare.

That post-Bobby gloom lingered upon Tyneside like a bad stench. Newcastle underwent a transition from a local, working-class hero at the helm, to the invasion of new owner Mike Ashley and his so-called “Cockney Mafia” that only served to further alienate the pride of a city. The gaffes that ensued are endless, a thorough autopsy requiring much more ink than I possess; but a quick skim reveals a catalogue of errors.

These include: Dennis Wise’s appointment as “executive director of football” that quickly led to irresolvable friction with the return of Geordie messiah Kevin Keegan; weltering under public opinion to sack proven manager Sam Allardyce; infuriating that same public when handing authority to a man in Joe Kinnear who had not managed in the Premier League for nine years after suffering a heart attack, and who then went on to announce his return with a foul-mouthed tirade against half of Britain’s sports journalists; and the continuous on-off “for sale” tag slapped on Newcastle United like a second-hand car. None of the above are ranked in importance, but they all compile to provide evidence of a British institution that stumbled from one PR disaster to the other.

Yet we arrive in 2011 with, if not a bright path already carved out into the future, a glint of hope that steadies the ship and may just start applying foundations hinged on rock rather than sand. Mike Ashley now shirks away from publicity, no longer seen swilling lager in the stands tantamount to acting like the ‘cool’ Dad at a teenage party. Instead, professional men (in Derek Llambias) used to running professional businesses have smoothed out the club’s operations in a way that once camera-shy Ashley surmounted his own fortune as the founder of Sports Direct. The club’s dirty laundry, although inevitably still present, has seeped less into the public domain.

On the pitch too can a radical transformation be observed. Fabricio Coloccini has delivered on his reputation over the last couple of years, lording a steely back four that have shipped the league’s least amount of goals, albeit only seven games into the new season. Last year’s success story Cheikh Tiote celebrated a new six-year deal in the summer and remains to give Newcastle supporters more to cheer about, whilst the addition of Yohann Cabaye from Lille took many by surprise, a player with European pedigree taking a wacky gamble with the trek up North. He might just eventually reap some rewards.

Indeed, Cabaye isn’t the only Frenchman to travel to the far-flung Geordie empire. He may have been tempted on the words of the precocious but controversial talent of Hatem Ben Arfa, whose fledgling season was marred with a broken leg. In addition Sylvain Marveaux and Gabriel Obertan along with the French-speaking Demba Ba have formed the genesis of an exciting French connection that could reawaken the foreign flair from its slumber at St James’ Park, last seen when Ginola and company ran riot in the mid-90s.

Ironically, however, it may have taken two questionable decisions fully in line with St James’ Park’s checkered past to deliver this fresh look side. National outcry met Chris Hughton’s brutal sacking a year ago, and a man associated with mediocrity in Alan Pardew was thought of as a safer bet to stave off a second relegation in three years from the Premier League. Whilst we may never know if Hughton’s departure was justified, Pardew steered Newcastle to a reassuringly comfortable 12th place and has started this season on an upward trajectory. Furthermore, two players that have been shown the door in Joey Barton and Kevin Nolan – a tandem that worked as a “you set ‘em up, I’ll knock ‘em in” attack – raised many pairs of eyebrows. But there has proven to be method in the madness, with the duo approaching their third decade on bloated wages and increasingly little prospect of monetary return. Barton is controversy personified and Nolan, whilst a dedicated professional and guaranteed goals, was always thought to offer less in the centre of midfield than a modern day playmaker should.

It is too early to tell, of course, how positively affecting these changes have proven to be. And in terms of a more sensible approach to decision-making at Newcastle United, it could just as easily be a case of monkeys, typewriters and Shakespeare. Pardew also still needs a hefty reinvestment in a striker from the £35 million sale of Andy Carroll last January, as Leon Best, though adequate, will not move mountains. Yet there is a murmur that the melodrama, the conflict, and the heartache could now be simmering down at Newcastle United. But you’d still be best advised not to hedge any bets.