A group of men walk into a hospital with aching bones, muscles, joints, and ligaments. The doctor asks: “What happened to you?” They solemnly reply: “You know the way it is at Newcastle United, doc.”
Casts and crutches, a sight John Carver must be all to familiar with by now.
With a makeshift manager now using his office as a makeshift waiting room, and the likes of Cheick Tioté, Steven Taylor and Papiss Cissé sidelined, Carver’s squad mirrors an Emily Dickinson poem; bare and utterly devoid of hope. In fact Cissé, after receiving a seven-match ban for spitting, has decided to bring forward knee surgery initially scheduled for later this year. With the Senegalese striker ruled out for the foreseeable future, the pressure is on the talented but very inexperienced Ayoze Pérez, Emmanuel Rivière, a very average looking player, Adam Armstrong, an unproven youngster, and Facundo Ferreyra, a striker serving about as much purpose as a moshpit at a James Blunt concert.
With just thirteen fit outfield players available for the Saturday showdown with Arsenal, one must ask; what has happened to Newcastle United, a once highly respectable, much respected club?
While Carver is not exactly the Dolce and Gabbana of the management community, the 50 year old, plucked from the twilight zone almost two decades ago by Ruud Gullit, seems to have earned the respect of his players. In addition to sounding more like a butcher than a coach, Carver is facing the same obstacles that persuaded Pardew to exchange Newcastle for Crystal Palace. Although Palace lacks the prestige of Newcastle, it is a football club that treats staff with courtesy and recognition, even Alan Pardew, a man with a bizarre hobby; head-butting.
Remember a time when Alan Shearer led the line so impressively for Newcastle United? The former England great was the embodiment of everything good at St James’ Park. Shearer wasn’t just representing a club, he was representing a proud, passionate city, a place where people lived for three things—football, beer and greasy food. And yes, undoubtedly, they still live for all three.
Like Martin Luther King Jr., Shearer also dreamed a dream. He believed that Newcastle could rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed. The passionate fans held lofty ambitions; they fantasised about Champions League football and Premiership glory, not mid-table finishes and top flight security.
A club that once had the likes of David Ginola and Faustino Asprilla now pays unethical sums of money to a talentless soul like Gabriel Obertan, for example: a man with the biggest head in football, quite literally. With a lack of excitement and ambition all too evident, these negatives will eventually take their toll even on fans as loyal as the Newcastle contingent.
It is well over a decade since the Magpies kicked a football in the Champions League, and this is an issue that Mike Ashley doesn’t look like rectifying any time soon.
