"We've F****ing Done It Dad, We've Done It!" - Newcastle Make History!

It's been a long time coming but Newcastle have won a trophy, something most of us feared would never happen. And it was unbelievable to be there to witness it!

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Thank you, Ian

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I have an image etched in my memory. Periodically, over the past 26 years this memory has found its way to the forefront of my mind. Usually when Newcastle have been knocked out of a cup competition.

22nd May 1999

Wembley Stadium; the red hot sun, belting down on the thousands of fans sat on the awful bleacher style seats. We’re in the death throes of the FA Cup final. It’s all over bar the shouting and Newcastle United are about to lose their second consecutive final in the world’s most famous knock out competition. The masses of Toon Army mostly away to my left are decked out in black and white and defiant, as ever, in defeat. The referees full time whistle is imminent. I look to my right and my brother sits watching the final bits of action on the pitch.

On my left hand side, my dad. I stare at him.

My dad was sat down, not really paying attention to last few passes of the game, but sort of staring blankly. His mind clearly elsewhere. Despondent. There was no mistaking that etched all over his face was crushing disappointment. The agony of another long, failed trip to Wembley. Another Newcastle United team that hadn’t turned up.

I don’t know precisely what my dad was thinking in that moment but I feel like I’ve always known. Something along the lines of ‘Will I ever see us win a trophy?’

In 1999 the club were already 30 years deep into a trophyless spell (44 years domestically) and there’d been a few years of near misses. Most famously, three years prior to this cup final, the club had contrived to let the Premier League title slip from its grasp. The defeat Newcastle had suffered, on that scorching hot May afternoon in 1999, felt like another missed opportunity for the club in a whole line of missed opportunities.

As I looked at my dad, low down on Wembley’s terraces, 15 year old me wondered, ‘Will I ever get the chance to see Newcastle win a trophy with my dad alongside me?’

16th March 2025

High up in Wembley’s upper tier, two scarves around my neck to keep the chill off, darkness has descended across the stands. Almost, 90,000 pairs of eyes inside this world famous venue remain captivated at what is occurring, on the brightly lit green Wembley pitch in front of them.

Two of those pairs of eyes belong to me and my dad - and on this occasion, he’s to my right.

Almost twenty six years on from seeing my dad looking dejected, things feel very different in this moment. The stadium is still called Wembley and occupies the same site. But that’s where the similarities end.

The stands are different. The competition is different. The weather is different. The opposition is different. The players are different. And the game that has unfolded before our very eyes, over the previous couple of hours, is very different too.

For a start, Newcastle are winning. This isn’t supposed to happen. And yet it is. The team are 2-0 up - and deservedly so - courtesy of goals from boyhood fan of the club, ‘Big’ Dan Burn and Swedish super striker, Alexander Isak. Both goals immediately followed by wild celebrations amongst the fans at the black and white end of the stadium.

Predictably though, Newcastle concede a late goal to make the end more stressful than it needs to be. Flashbacks to the league game at the start of last season are in everyone’s pessimistic thoughts.

Not again, surely?

The team however, navigate the ten minutes of agonising stoppage time superbly. Whistles are all that can be heard from the Newcastle United support now. Liverpool’s Van Dijk heads the ball forward, looking for one last attack, but Joelinton, a colossus in the midfield all afternoon, intervenes and heads the ball away, towards the relative safety of the centre circle.

Then the referee blows his whistle. Newcastle United have just won their first major domestic trophy for 70 years!

The wait is over. Pandemonium instantly breaks out amongst the 37,000+ members of the Toon Army housed at the far end of the stadium.

Strangers hug strangers. Hands are shaken. Backs are slapped. Smiles are everywhere to be seen. Tears are shed. Many, many tears. The emotion is overwhelming. 70 long years waiting for a domestic trophy. And like that, it’s done.

For once, Newcastle fans get to experience the joyful tears.

I turn to my dad, hug him tightly and scream into his ear, “We’ve fucking done it dad, we’ve done it! We’ve won a trophy!” And for the next few minutes we celebrate wildly together unable to quite comprehend that this group of players, lead by Eddie Howe, have made history. And in the process have got the biggest of all monkeys off the club’s back.

It’s a moment I know we’ll both remember forever, along with thousands of others inside Wembley and of course hundreds of thousands watching around the world.

Potential Fulfilled

I’m 41 now. Almost at the same age my dad was when we lost 2-0 to Manchester United in the 1999 FA Cup final. He was 43 then. In the intervening years it has somehow always felt impossible that Newcastle could ever win a trophy.

For many of those years it was obvious that we’d not be winning anything. There have been some truly dark days at this football club, but these are not them. These are good days. These days fill you with happiness. These days we have hope in abundance.

And the pain of unfulfilled potential has gone.

Think about it. How many conversations have we all had about winning a trophy over the years? How many times had we been ribbed by other sets of fans for failing to win a trophy in living memory? Yes, we could always point to our wonderful support, we could point to playing in Europe a lot of times, we could point to trophies won well before most of us were born. But everyone always had us with, ‘What have you ever won in your lifetime?’

That has all changed now. The future is bright and we need only look forward.

Counting Blessings

Football fandom is all about who you share the sport with. Your memories of this football club, like me, are wrapped up with who you know and who you watch the games with and who you talk about the team with. Whether that’s been at St James’ Park, in the pub or in someone’s home. Football is all about community, and it always has been.

Very few of us get into this on purpose. Most of us are born into it.

For me, it was my dad. He took me to St James’ Park for the first time in September 1990, aged 6. A 1-1 draw with West Ham United. My brother was with us too. And that’s how it was for many years.

But there are also aunties and uncles, cousins and friends who’ve we’ve shared moments with, some great, some terrible, whilst supporting Newcastle. Most of those people have sent messages or called since the win on Sunday to celebrate. We all know how much it means to each other because we have all lived the same Newcastle. The collective celebration is one of the things that has made Newcastle’s Carabao Cup victory even more special. It matters. It really matters.

Sadly, many people have been lost along the way. Life is life after all. And that means people are taken from us. Sometimes the end comes naturally. But for others, it feels like they’ve been snatched from us. Taken too soon.

And that is particularly hard to take on a day like Sunday. Knowing that those people - those Newcastle United fans - who put just as much time, money and effort into this club, should have been celebrating with us, brings a further set of emotions.

Since the final I’ve seen stories of people taking lucky items to Wembley that belonged to grandparents, people taking photos of their dads with them and others wearing old shirts that belonged to old friends no longer here to wear them themselves.

All we can do is honour those people. Raise a glass to them and hope they were able to see Newcastle achieve what many of thought was impossible.

And we should all count our blessings for the ones who are still here. Never take this for granted.

For me personally, I am delighted, and relieved, that right by my side, when the final whistle was blown inside Wembley Stadium on the 16th March 2025, was my dad.

We did it dad, we won the fucking cup.