Why I want Eddie Howe to stay at Newcastle United for as long as he is happy

“United We Stand, Divided We Fall” was the title of a 1970 hit single by Brotherhood of Man. They would go on to win the jackpot six years later after a few changes in line-up, being named champions of Europe with “Save Your Kisses For Me”.
More than 24 hours after Newcastle United lost at the Stadium of Plight, there is no shortage of Magpies calling on the club to kiss goodbye to Eddie Howe.

This is the same Eddie Howe who, only nine months ago, masterminded our finest hour since the 1969 Fairs Cup triumph.

The League Cup victory against Liverpool, Newcastle’s first win in a Wembley final for 70 years, brought unalloyed joy to every lucky member of the Toon Army inside the stadium, to hundreds of thousands back in the North-East and to the wider Geordie diaspora.

That was then, this is now. Has there been a massive change in sentiment? Apparently so.

Anyone visiting The Mag comments section can see a clear split among the supporters. It’s by no means unprecedented in the 49 months of Howe’s tenure for phrases such as “he’s past his sell-by date, he can’t take us any further, he’s out of his depth” to be aired.

On every previous occasion, he made a mockery of such claims and silenced the protests.

What prompted this latest outpouring of angst and anger was, of course, a poor performance and a single-goal defeat. Would there have been so much unrest if the match had ended 0-0 instead of being decided by the flukiest of own goals? Probably not.

Would there have been OTT celebrations across Geordieland if the boot had been on the other foot and Big Dan Ballard had wellied the ball into his own net to give us all three points? Almost certainly.

For the Toon Army, everything can seem black and white. Sometimes there should be shades of grey. Probably not the fabled 50 but now the dust has settled, consider this: the mackems kicked off at 2pm on Sunday, undefeated at home in the Premier League. We had won precisely once away, against an Everton team whom we made look appallingly bad. Was a narrow loss on Wearyside such a big surprise?

In football, little is remembered except the result. Less than 24 hours before we were second-best, the Woolwich played badly but won 2-1 to maintain their apparently unstoppable march to the Premier League title. The points were secured by two Wolves own-goals. Otherwise, a team already looking doomed to finish bottom of the league would have denied the champions-presumptive at least two points. None of that will be recalled if the man-boy from San Sebastian finally ends his specialism in failure. Not that I believe he will, incidentally.

Back to the Mags and the outpouring of unhappiness. Supporters like to dish it out, they are less keen to take it. In this age of clickbait, social media and online websites, every fan can be a widely read expert. No wonder Ross Wilson, Newcastle’s sporting director, told me last Wednesday he didn’t look at any of that stuff. Why would he?

I sincerely hope Eddie Howe also has better ways to occupy himself. He certainly has enough on his plate this season: a domestic trophy to defend, a Premier League challenge to pursue, a Champions League campaign with at least eight matches to navigate (almost certainly 10 or more after the draw in Leverkusen) and the enticing prospect of re-establishing our legendary status in the FA Cup.

Add to that workload the severe disruption caused by the seemingly sociopathic behaviour of a striker from Sweden, the long-term injury to his replacement and a series of other setbacks. Who in their right mind would expect everything in the St James’ Park garden to be rosy in mid-December?

We stand 12th in the Premier League after 16 games, only four points behind the teams in joint-fifth place. In my eyes, there is no reason to call for Eddie Howe to be replaced. He is human, he makes mistakes, but he is the most successful manager of Newcastle United in this pensioner’s lifetime.

Each fan is entitled to his or her views on what has happened since last season ended with qualification for the Champions League and a shiny trophy cabinet finally cleared of cobwebs.

What I see is a first-team squad trying to pull together despite the tough task of integrating Elanga, Ramsey, Thiaw, Ramsdale, Woltemade and Wissa while established players such as Hall, Livramento, Trippier, Osula, Botman, Krafth and now Burn have been or will be sidelined for months. Apologies if I have missed anyone.

What makes things even trickier is the reality that our exceptional success in recent years has been built on exceptional team spirit. That was in part a consequence of no senior signings for three consecutive transfer windows.

Every alteration to the squad, every arrival or departure, can become a double-edged sword. Because we are fighting on four fronts, including an expanded European tournament, the squad had to be augmented. There was no alternative.
In 2006, Aston Villa fans produced a classic response to David “Jack” O’Leary’s accusation that they were fickle. He felt he was a hero when Villa won, a villain when they lost. Funnily enough, that’s the long and the short of it for many supporters. Results are generally the yardstick. Sometimes, though, other factors are at play.

A banner draped from the Holte End declared: “We’re not fickle. We just don’t like you”. It made me laugh.

As each morning dawns, every manager is one day nearer the exit door. All I hope is that Eddie Howe, the most likeable manager in the Premier League, survives and thrives at Newcastle United for as long as he wants the job.

The next lines in that Brotherhood of Man song after “United we stand, divided we fall” went like this:

“And if our backs should ever be against the wall
“We’ll be together, together, you and I.”

A display of unity from the home supporters at St James’ Park on Wednesday night would be a positive contribution to our season.

If you were pondering O’Leary’s nickname, his teammates at the Woolwich allegedly called him Jack. It came from the expression “I’m all right Jack”, used to describe people who act only in their own best interests, even if helping others would be easy. The phrase became the title of a 1959 Boulting Brothers comedy, starring Peter Sellers and Ian Carmichael among others.