A noisy day for the quiet man

THEY’LL be painting the toon broon today, yet another full house at St James’ Park rising to acclaim the handing over of the Football League trophy and a return to the top-flight next season.

It was almost impossible to imagine such scenes in July of last year when Newcastle, relegated from the Premier League in typically chaotic and humiliating circumstances, turned up in Tallaght for a friendly against Shamrock Rovers.

True, the Magpies did rather better than Real Madrid that day, running out comfortable 3-0 winners, but when Damien Duff talked afterwards about one day finishing his career at Tallaght Stadium, the thought struck that he might be better off staying put now that he was actually there.

In apparent confirmation of the even gloomier times awaiting the stricken giants, Duff was in a Newcastle side thrashed 6-1 by Leyton Orient in another friendly just two weeks later and, not long after that, wisely, he was away on his bike, taking the quick route back to the promised land via Craven Cottage.

Fulham’s glorious European voyage and Duff’s rejuvenated form confirm that he did the right thing but, remarkably, Newcastle have managed to follow him back up at the first attempt, their nine-point lead over West Brom at the top meaning that they have the luxury of going into today’s final home game of the season with the championship already in the bag.

To put it mildly, this is not what was expected of the dysfunctional club all the other dysfunctional clubs called the galacticos. A continuing Leeds-like fall from grace seemed the logical destiny of a club no-one wanted to buy, a place where fading stars saw out their dying days and marquee managers came and went at a rate of knots.

Enter the law of unintended consequences. Unable to persuade Alan Shearer to stay on board and with yet another return for Kevin Keegan out of the question, the club was forced to set aside its Messiah complex, instead handing the management over to the first team coach on what was supposed to be a temporary basis.

But, lo, the caretaker turned out to be supremely capable of taking care of business.

So much so, that Chris Hughton now finds himself awash with plaudits as the permanent manager of the 2009/10 Championship winners.

Or at least as permanent as anything ever gets at St James’ Park.

Here too is proof that nice guys do finish first, although to imagine that someone of Hughton’s longevity as player and coach has got where he is today without being able to wield a natural authority, would be to confuse substance and style.

Contrary to his polite and some even say bland exterior, Hughton is a man of deep convictions, as witness his anti-racism campaigning and public support for Nelson Mandela back in the day.

But after the likes of Souness, Allardyce, Shearer and Kinnear, someone with the low media profile of the former Irish international – and, later, assistant to Brian Kerr — is probably exactly what was required at Newcastle. Here, in a once great club’s darkest hour, was a return to footballing first principles, with a gaffer at the helm who was content to do his talking not on the back pages but where it really counts – on the training pitch and in the dressing room.

Today’s hand over of the Championship silverware might be the most visible evidence of Hughton’s success but, writing in a blog recently, one supporter suggested that he has achieved something even more momentous, by restoring credibility to a corrupted institution.

“Hughton has finally instilled a confidence that we’ve lacked,” the fan wrote. “He’s provided stability. The players know him. The players respect him. Quite rightly the fans now respect him. He’s a proud man. Keeps himself to himself and deals with anyone or any obstacles with great dignity. He’s fashioned a team spirit, something that has been lacking in the dressing room for years. Not since the days of the great Sir Bobby and King Kev’s first spell have I felt such a sense of togetherness, not just between the team but between the fans and the entire city.”

So it will be day of celebration on Tyneside today, regardless of the result of the game against today’s visitors, who happen to be Ipswich Town, a club under the management of another, slightly more high profile, former Irish international. And who’d a-thunk at the start of this season that the Irish manager claiming the Championship spoils at the end of it all would be Chris Hughton, not Roy Keane? However, as if he needs any reminding, Hughton will only have to look at the opposition dug-out today to know that getting a north-eastern side up into the Premiership is one thing, but surviving, let alone thriving up there, is quite another.

One thing’s for sure, though: Chris Hughton has earned his shot at the big-time.

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