Hughton's Sacking Reconfirms The Obvious

The Ultimate Football Blog

For those reading, if there are any, you may have noticed this website took a sudden and unexpected break since early November. And that is solely down to me. It was my decision to discontinue the posts and I had made no plans as to when The Promised Land would resume.

My reasoning for this was personal. While still head-over-heels with my one and only Manchester United, I have fallen out of love with football. The game is stale. And it’s full of cunts. While I couldn’t say that it’s been boring recently, it lacks a certain ‘oomph’, killing itself of any real passion and spark it once had.

That’s why I’ve stepped back for a little while, over a month now I believe, and tried to rediscover my own passion for the game and, indeed, for writing about the game. And I’ve got nothing. However, something happened on Monday that angered me so much and compounded my own belief of how much of a disgrace football has turned itself into that I felt compelled to say a few words, as ironic as that may seem.

I’ve made no attempt to ever hide my absolute contempt for Newcastle United Football Club. Since the club has been under the ownership of Mike Ashley, it’s been a complete basket-case. A circus. A football club unworthy of its place in the football league. But following the shambles of sacking Sam Allardyce (the source of their downfall), the beautiful but disastrous romance of Keegan, the craziness of Kinnear and the sheer stupidity of Shearer, it seemed like the club had come full circle and, more importantly, come to sense. It may have been forced upon them, it may just have been their great fortune but when Newcastle were deservedly relegated in 2009 and nobody in the football world wanted to take charge of what was less of a sinking ship and more of a burning wreckage, Chris Hughton stepped up to the plate.

In the background for many years, Hughton either saw this as his chance to be a leading man, or just doing the bosses a favour and ‘caretaking’ before somebody else was found. Whatever his reasons it either showed he was short on brain cells, or had a lot of balls. Probably both. But it worked. Hughton and Newcastle just worked. He was exactly what the Car-toon Army needed at the time.

When Newcastle started to struggle in the 08/09 season after a series of shambolic decisions and some grotesque demands and expectations from their deluded supporters, I suggested that relegation would prove to be just what the club needed. That, once a great club, Newcastle desperately needed to get out of the limelight and spend a year in the rehab of the Championship. Things at St. James’ Park were spiralling out of control at the time. Every day provided a fresh punch-line to what was becoming the longest running joke in English football. Their managers were either having nervous break-downs, or heart attacks. Or were being plucked from the telly. Their owner was more interested in downing pints in ten seconds flat and Dennis Wise was even a Director of Football there. Dennis Wise! A Director of Football! FFS!

Things were bad, and then they got worse. Newcastle were relegated, but that proved to be a blessing in disguise. And Chris Hughton became their unlikely Messiah. He steered them through a difficult and relatively incident-free campaign in the Championship, ultimately winning the league. After just one season he had brought Newcastle back to the big time. Many seemed surprised at his success, especially given the tattered state of the club when he took over. But you must remember, although this was his first job in the manager’s chair, Hughton has been involved in football coaching for quite some time. Since 1993, in fact. As assistant to Martin Jol, Spurs twice finished fifth in the Premier League in 2006 and 2007, an achievement at the time. And with Newcastle struggling nearing the end of the 08/09 season but not quite realistic relegation candidates, it wasn’t until Alan Shearer came in and replaced Hughton with Iain Dowie that the club started to plummet.

But how exactly did this seemingly serene situation all fall apart? Ah, I forgot this is Newcastle United we’re talking about. The club that specialises in needless drama and soap opera plots to rival Coronation Street.

Yes, the team is winless in their last five league games. So what? This is a newly promoted club sitting 11th going into the half-way point of the season. What about the 6-0 thrashing of Aston Villa? The 1-0 defeat of Arsenal? The 1-1 draw with Champions Chelsea? Let’s not forget the absolute arse-handing humiliation of their most hated rivals, Sunderland? Do these results count for nothing? No win in five should not be a major concern for a mid-table club. With the right principles and coaching in place, and under Hughton it was, results would have turned in their favour sooner than later.

Mike Ashley is a clown, and Chris Hughton deserves better. He is a great football man. It may be a cliché, but it’s the truth. He’s may not spit out classic one-liners like Mourinho but a man like Hughton is pure gold in today’s game. Passionate, dignified, respectful and highly intelligent is how I’d like to describe Chris Hughton. This is Newcastle’s loss and should he want it, there’s a job not too far away for him. Let’s hope he’s back before long so when the theatrics of the rest of the football world get too much to take we’ll have a proper and honest man within this shambles of a game to turn to.

Hughton’s sacking left me fuming as it was always expected and it was always going to be undeserved. It has simply reconfirmed my belief that this game is full of cunts who are ruining it from the top down. Men like Hughton are used and are not given a proper chance with the powers-that-be opting instead for names and reputations. Thankfully, with the fantastic job Chris Hughton did at St James’ he’s now made a fine name for himself.

Here’s to hoping Newcastle United get another healthy dose of reality at the end of this season. And here’s to hoping I can figure out why I let days like last Monday, and football as a whole, turn me into a cynical bastard who can’t stop hating the game I can’t live without.

R.C