What Newcastle United means to me after that Wembley win | OneFootball

A popular Newcastle United chant from the early Seventies roared by thousands of Leazes Enders: “Give us an ‘N’, give us an ‘E’, give us a ‘W’ (pronounced wubbleyou) . . .” had fallen out of fashion by the time I returned to St James’ Park two decades later.

An old fogey might suggest the task of spelling our club’s name, letter by letter, all 15 of them, in the correct order, was by then beyond the younger generation. Learning by rote in schools had been replaced by “creative writing”, with all the benefits and drawbacks that change delivered.

Whatever the reason, the call-and-response yelling from my early teens was no longer a part of the Saturday afternoon ritual. Indeed, the Saturday afternoon ritual was rarely part of football in the top flight, thanks to the mushrooming influence of an Australian media tycoon who detested tradition.

Keith Rupert Murdoch might take a similar outlook to Henry Ford, the man who declared “history is more or less bunk”, but nobody should be surprised that the events of March 16, 2025, will cause long-serving fans of Newcastle United to reflect on the past.

Here’s my take on what those 15 letters mean today:

N is for “never” in my lifetime did I honestly expect my team would beat four in-form rivals and win the League Cup.

E is for “even” in my wildest dreams (and there have been a few) I could not envisage a performance of such majesty and power, such control and desire as we witnessed at Wembley. In case you are wondering, that’s the players and the supporters.

W is for “wonderful”, a big word but not big enough to sum up how I felt when Bruno Guimaraes, Kieran Trippier and Jamaal Lascelles showed the value of teamwork, each with a hand on the trophy as it was hoisted at last. Three captains fantastic.

C is for “classy”, which sums up the behaviour of our beloved manager/head coach/fulfiller of dreams, Edward John Frank Howe, in victory and defeat.

A is for “Anthony”, Anthony Gordon, whose goals, assists and all-round play were integral to United’s League Cup run. I’m no mind-reader but does anyone regret his folly against Brighton more than our favourite Scouser?

S is for “stupendous”, a fitting word for the blockbuster of a header from Big Dan Burn that rewarded our first-half supremacy and turned one end of the national stadium into a Geordie paradise.

T is for “Trippier” (Kieran John) whom I have never seen play better than he did in the final. Life has been difficult for him since December 2023, enduring a nightmare few minutes at Stamford Bridge in the League Cup last season, losing the captaincy and his starting berth, seeking a transfer that never materialised. Resilience is a great quality and Trippier has it in spades.

L is for “likeable”, perhaps not an obvious word to sum up Jason James Tindall. King Eddie clearly disagrees, hence their long-term managerial partnership. You might think Fake Tan Jason is an East End chancer (born in Mile End, Tower Hamlets) who loves nothing more than winding up opponents. I couldn’t possibly comment! What I do know is that his grin showcased the brightest, shiniest, most dazzling Hampstead Heath at Wembley. Thank goodness my new specs adjust to blinding light instantly.

E is for “elegant” or “energetic” or “extraordinary”, three aspects of Sandro Tonali’s play that help to make him one of the best midfielders to grace a football pitch. Not just one of the best in Newcastle United’s pantheon, simply one of the best.

U is for “unselfish”, an aspect of football that is undervalued. A big ego can spell big trouble for any team. When I watch United, what’s clear in black and white is the unselfish attitude of a squad dedicated to doing their best for the cause.

N is for “neverending”, the rollercoaster of emotion ridden by every member of the Toon Army. Many more lows than highs since 1969, although maybe, just maybe, we will all be back on Cloud Nine sooner rather than later.

I is for “Isak” (Alexander), born in Sweden to Eritrean parents on 21 September, 1999. An old schoolteacher told me, more than 50 years ago, spectators go to the match to see something beyond their comprehension. That’s what our supreme striker produces, match after match, and he makes it look easy.

T is for “terrific”, one of ‘Arry Redknapp’s favourite adjectives, though that old geezer tends to say “triffick”. However the word is pronounced, it sums up how I have been feeling since the ref blew the final whistle in the League Cup final.

E is for “enigmatic”, to describe one of my favourite cup winners. Step forward, Jacob Kai Murphy, born in Wembley 30 years ago. Born to be a footballer, though only now, after years of being doubted by so many managers, is he showing just how good he can be. You might not rate Smurph. You might call him Championship-level at best. Then ask Ice-Cool Alex, with whom Jacob has developed a brilliant understanding.

D is for “delirium”, as in tremens, the DTs, a rapid onset of confusion usually caused by withdrawal from alcohol. Not always, however. Most United fans at the cup final were exhibiting signs of “mental disturbance with shaking”, the literal definition of the DTs, and many had not touched alcohol that day. They made up for it afterwards, mind!