As a Newcastle United season ticket holder from the dark days of the old Second Division under Bill McGarry, then through successive managers from Arthur Cox to Kevin Keegan and Kenny Dalglish to Sir Bobby Robson, I have followed the Magpies’ fortunes, first as a supporter and then as a pitchside photographer.
When work took me away from the North East I was still following the team north of the border and I still do today.
Visiting ‘home’ a few times a year, I would try to fit these trips into fixtures and return to St James’ Park when the opportunity arose.
As match tickets became harder to come by, there was a gap of about five years where I wasn’t a supporter. However, under the stagnation of the Mike Ashley era, I returned to SJP, but the change in atmosphere was palpable.
Where a crowd of 28,000 could be heard in my home on the opposite side of the Tyne during the final days of a roofless Liz, the 40,000-plus below Ashley seemed silent in comparison.
Did nostalgia color my expectations? Absolutely not.
Was it simply a disenfranchised group of fans, Newcastle United fans suffering from years of under-investment, or was there another underlying explanation that seemed to be a lack of buzz and supporter disengagement?
Fast forward to The Takeover. New owners, a young, hungry manager and better communication between the club and supporters.
Attending my first game under the new regime, I was looking forward to this revival and hopefully the revival of the Gallowgate rumble.
I was stunned.
Despite TV pundits wowing the audience with the “cathedral on the hill” line and its legendary deafening roar delivered by 52,000 partisan Geordies, the stadium was soulless.
While the displays of Wor Flags are an enjoyable match day spectacle, it seems to me to be a very artificial enhancement of the match day set up. Blasting Blaydon Races over the PA system does nothing when its volume drowns out supporters who might try to join in.
Photo by The Mag
This latest re-imagining of the song seems to be just a marketing ploy to give the club an ‘identity’. Racing has long had its day, and the song soon fades anyway, as few of its younger fans may be familiar with its lyrics after the first few lines.
There’s definitely a generation gap among the fans, which to me is a significant indicator of the lack of atmosphere. Whether or not there are official numbers to back up my theory, the club has more white-haired season ticket holders than at any time in its history.
I don’t begrudge anyone enjoying themselves, regardless of age, but when I occasionally use a friend’s spare ticket, it’s a bit like going on a pensioner’s coach ride rather than a partisan football crowd. I have no doubt that similar enclaves where fans grow old together abound throughout the stadium.
At the other end of the age scale they have a very different lack of passion for the game of football. Glancing at their cell phones and watching real life filter through the six-inch screen in front of them is no way for individuals to connect with their supporters as much as the action on the pitch.
It’s not just Newcastle United’s problem. From my experiences at away matches – by the way, the traveling Magpies can’t be faulted for their non-stop chants and support – the hostile atmosphere that once welcomed the opposition is similarly muted.
Unfortunately, our aging fan base, Gen-Whatever voyeurs and artificial attempts to boost supporter attendance have all conspired to make the St James’ Park atmosphere a shadow of its former self.
Is there a solution? I don’t think so.
There is no turning back the clock and time has changed. Where modern society seems in many ways to be an angrier place, there is a feeling of apathy on the terraces and supporters are unconsciously alienating themselves from general participation.
A trip to St James’ Park was once the highlight of a working week, but has it now become a retirement home for aging supporters and just a colorful backdrop for the TikTok generation?