American fans awoke today to the startling sight of Newcastle United being featured in the soccer section of the online New York Times. The angle of the story, for Newcastle fans in the U.S., may have come as even more of a shock. Headlined "In Newcastle, a Place Proudly Apart, Skepticism About Change," it maintains that "...the current team is not everyone’s cup of tea. Its squad draws on players from more than a dozen countries, in keeping with the polyglot makeup of virtually all the clubs in the Premiership, but at odds with the dream of Newcastle’s rearing its team of locally produced 'Geordie lads.' "
Hmmm.
We get the part about geographic isolation and local pride. In our ESPN Soccernet interview the other day, Tom and I talked about how, as Green Bay Packers fans, we identified with Newcastle for just those reasons.
But, from our distance at least, it's hard to discern anything but full acceptance of the French legion that has helped transform Newcastle United into a contender so far this season. Banners that say "Le Toon"? Hashtags that say #CabayeDreamboat? In fact, it seems like the foreign invasion was welcomed even before it happened, even before Newcastle started winning. Summer had hardly begun when the mere rumor of Kevin Gameiro in a black-and-white shirt was enough to send Newcastle message board commentators into spasms of cybernetic glee.
Yet the Times article rings with detail and authority. The author seems to know his history. He effectively evokes the days of Hall and Keegan, contrasting them with the regional bias against the current management as background for the fans' discomfort with the strangers on the pitch. And the story isn't a polemic: it's well-written, even beautifully written, to this journalism teacher's ear and eye: "The steep banks of the ground are as high as they can be, the roar of the home crowd cascades down onto the field, and it would be a strange player who was not moved by that sound to give 100 percent of what is in his or her soul."
So we can only ask our Geordie brethren across the sea: are we missing something? On the streets of Newcastle, among those fans who socialize in a pub like normal fans and not at a keyboard, is there widespread grumbling, muffled only by victory, about all these Frenchmen and their cautious style? Will calls for deportation arise if the club slides back toward mid-table? If foreign players aren't welcome, what of foreign fans? Or is this story, lyrical though it may be, an anachronistic disservice to an army of supporters that has come to consider passion and loyalty equal to geography as its binding force?