It is a Saturday morning, a long week at work has just passed.
I rise from my bed and the first thought is ‘Newcastle play today’. The anticipation rises in the Shepherd household with talk about the previous game and what we expect of today’s game is rife. It is now 1:59PM and I refresh twitter constantly, awaiting the sight of the line-up. I read the team news from back to front to my Dad, “Dúbravka, Dummett, Lejeune, Fernández, Schär, Manquillo, Shelvey, Hayden, Almirón, Carroll, Joelinton”.
“Joelinton?" he says, "Why on earth is Bruce playing him still? He has been s***e!” My Dad gripes. This is a line I hear most weeks now with my Dad being one that does not rate Joelinton. I just give the simple reply, “He will come good eventually!”
Team news has been announced to the household, and debate starts between everyone at home. ‘Will Almirón score today?’ being the frequently asked question in the house. After all it has been a 27-game wait. My Dad, usually being the pessimist in the situation, replies, “He probably won’t.” A typical low standard Dad answer, something you cannot really blame him for after watching a team we all love go from competing in the Champions League with the likes of Shearer and Sir Bobby, to being relegated under the parasite that is Mike Ashley.
Mum, who follows the team loosely, keeping up to date with results and listening to the off match, usually is quite positive, always backing fan favourites Allan Saint-Maximin and Miguel Almirón to score. After much discussion, it is almost time for kick-off. Today’s game being Newcastle United vs Crystal Palace at St. James’ Park. I tune into BBC Radio Newcastle’s coverage of the game on NUFC TV, with commentators Matthew Raisbeck and former United defender John Anderson illustrating detailed pictures of the game perfectly in the minds of people like me who cannot be at matches or be bothered to tamper with a dodgy streaming website. As the 90 minutes fly by, me and my family endure all the highs and lows of the game, and feel part of the enthralling atmosphere of the cathedral that is St. James’ Park.
Every boo, hiss, cheer, groan and chant is heard. Although this game is somewhat of the most boring of the season, I still feel the anticipation for a brief moment of delight caused by those eleven black and white shirts on the pitch. Finally the last 10 minutes approaches and all sorts of thoughts are starting to cross my mind; ‘Will we lose late on here?’ ‘Please, not a boring 0-0 draw!’ And even, ‘Could we score late again here?’ The 83rd minute is here, “Schär, short throw to Manquillo, back to Schär, deep cross, players at the backpost…” My ears prick up to endearment for the chance on goal. I sit up and listen out for the moment that I pray will follow, after what felt like a lifetime, Raisbeck continues. “Carroll, Almirónnnnnnnnnn!” Complete disbelief runs through my body first and then the house, just like St. James’ Park, erupts in noise and movement. No one cares what the neighbours think in this moment. The same sheer ecstasy that is felt in my home is being felt exactly 349 miles away in the Toon, the club that connects people all around the country makes us all unite as one.
Although it can be weeks, months and sometimes even a year before I see Newcastle play in person, this is the closest thing I have to replicating the enjoyment of sitting in with 52,000 Geordies all screaming, singing and shouting around me.
I love this club and it has brought me some of the happiest moments of my life and it is in these moments you realise the happiness that football, and this club especially, brings you.