I was born and grew up in South Africa. During the 8th grade, all my friends had started watching the English Premier League. To be honest, I had no real interest. However, after every game week, when we returned to school, my friends would engage in endless discussions about matches, players, managers, etc. So, on Sunday, 16 October 2011, while scrolling through the sports channels searching for cricket or rugby highlights, I noticed a Premier League match: Newcastle vs. Tottenham. "Fuck it," I thought to myself, "Let's give it a try".
Newcastle were 2-1 down when I began watching. Naturally, I rooted for the underdog. I found myself hoping that Newcastle could mount a comeback, especially since the commentators seemed to be against them. The noise from the fans almost drowned out the commentary. When Shola Ameobi scored in the 86th minute, to my own surprise, I leapt out of my seat in elation. At that moment, I knew — I had found a team to support. I proudly declared this at school on Monday. Most of my friends laughed. Most Premier League fans in South Africa supported teams like Manchester United, Arsenal, Liverpool, or Chelsea. I didn't care. I relished being different.
That season, Newcastle achieved their best Premier League finish in a decade. Some subsequent seasons, however, were less positive. There were highs and lows. It wasn't all I'd signed up for, but Newcastle United had captured my heart, for better or worse. Since that day in 2011, I've rarely missed a game, resorting to dubious streams to watch Championship football after Newcastle's relegation.
At times, it's felt like the black and white essence of Newcastle United mirrored my own life. Watching a Newcastle match became a consistent heartbeat, providing a rhythm when I needed it most and giving me something to root for. I can't quite articulate why I adore this club so much. If I'm having a good day and recall that Newcastle is playing, my mood elevates further. If I'm having an off day but then remember a Newcastle game is coming, my worries fade. Those 90 minutes are moments of complete immersion. A rarity in today's world.
Certainly, there are downsides. A victory leaves me elated for the rest of the day, while a defeat can mar my entire weekend. A goal for Newcastle sends me into a euphoric frenzy, whereas a goal against us brings heartache. Some might find this level of emotional investment in a football team absurd. I understand that perspective. It's not logical. But it's enchanting. A team that can electrify tens of thousands in an instant is remarkable. The beauty lies in the fact that it doesn't need to make sense to have profound meaning. Those in the know truly grasp its depth.
I hope to watch Newcastle play live next year. Over the past two years, with new ownership, the club has experienced significant success both on and off the pitch. Yet, when I finally get to watch them, it won't be about victories or defeats, or about ownership, management, or even the players. It might appear that way, but for me, it'll be about the roar of the crowd, the magic, the palpable excitement, and that irresistible force that propels me from my seat when Newcastle scores. It'll be about the intangible essence nestled between the black and white of Newcastle United.
Howay the Lads.
"What is a club in any case? Not the buildings or the directors or the people who are paid to represent it. It’s not the television contracts, get-out clauses, marketing departments or executive boxes. It’s the noise, the passion, the feeling of belonging, the pride in your city. It’s a small boy clambering up stadium steps for the very first time, gripping his father’s hand, gawping at that hallowed stretch of turf beneath him and, without being able to do a thing about it, falling in love."
- Bobby Robson