I’ve been very good to Newcastle. But that place hasn’t done anything but shit on me. The Newcastle Jets are for sale … I can’t wait to get them out the door.
Just last year, those were the words vehemently sprayed from Newcastle Jets owner Nathan Tinkler’s mouth. Last week, however, the former electrician-made-good was pictured sinking beers with fans as he watched his team lose a 4-3 thriller to Sydney FC. Tinkler’s efforts at ingratiating himself with those supporters were undermined somewhat by the result, which ensured the Jets ended the season rooted to the bottom of the A-League table and the disillusionment of the club’s fans remains on a simmer.
His reappearance has been a spectacular turnaround from an owner that previously wanted nothing to do with the club. Combined with the backflip, the beer-drinking scene has conjured eery parallels with another football owner located more than 16,000 kilometres away in Newcastle-Upon-Tyne. In August 2008, Newcastle United boss Mike Ashley, having recently bought the club, was filmed standing with Magpies fans and downing a beer in less than 12 seconds. It is not the first time – nor is it likely to be the last – that these two owners have produced carbon copy actions.
Like the two cities of the same name, Ashley and Tinkler appear unequivocally linked. Newcastle, Australia, adopted the name of the English city and its surrounding suburbs partly due to the presence of coal in the region. Both settlements were shaped due to the black, ugly rock, as well as the shipping industry.
As a result, the inhabitants, the Geordies and Novocastrians, share similar characteristics – friendly, proud, down to earth, a world away from the capital populations. That is how they like it, the working class underdog. Most importantly, perhaps, the locals are infatuated with sport. It finishes a close third to friends and family, in some cases it even runs first. Yet both Newcastle United and the Newcastle Jets have often been left in the shadows when it comes to success.
For Toon supporters the last meaningful piece of silverware was an FA Cup win in 1955 (some fans do not count their Inter-Cities Fairs Cup win in 1969). The Newcastle Jets won an A-League championship in 2008, but that was a rare divergence from a path usually littered with underachievement.
So when Ashley and Tinkler arrived to save the two clubs – the former in May, 2007, the latter in September, 2010 – there was an air of optimism among both sets of supporters. The takeovers may have arrived more than three years apart, yet Tinkler’s reign at the Newcastle Jets has, intriguingly, provided an almost mirror image of Ashley’s ownership on the other side of the world.
Ashley, who made his fortune in the retail industry, immediately endeared himself to Newcastle fans by bringing back club legend Kevin Keegan for his third coming. The new owner took his place among the fans in the stands, draped in a replica black-and-white strip. He loved a pint and he loved a punt, and Newcastle was possibly his biggest gamble yet. Toon fans lapped it up.
Tinkler was equally fond of a flutter and a beer, especially at the race tracks. But it was football where he began his personal foray into sport, under the guise of his Hunter Sports Group company. The Jets’ new owner was rich, but more importantly he held local ties, starting his career as a working class electrician in the mining town of Muswellbrook. His elevation to self-made billionaire was the stuff of fairytales. Tinkler was almost too good to be true, just like Ashley. And so it proved to be. About two years into each owner’s tenure, disaster struck.
For Ashley the catalyst was Keegan’s resignation in September 2008, which the former England captain blamed on boardroom meddling. His messy departure turned Toon fans against their apparent saviour. Three more managers and a relegation followed and fans wanted Ashley gone. “You want me out [of Newcastle]. That is what I am now trying to do, but it won’t happen overnight and it may not happen at all if a buyer does not come in,” Ashley said. A buyer did not come forward, not one willing to match Ashley’s asking price, and so the club was taken off the market and Ashley reaffirmed his commitment.
For Tinkler, the sudden change came just less than two years into his tenure. A fierce battle with Football Federation Australia over insurance and licensing fees unravelled, and Tinkler attempted to hand back his A-League license amid personal financial hardship. Tinkler eventually backed down and reluctantly continued, but his actions, just like Ashley’s, disintegrated the relationship with fans.
Ashley was like a chastened lover, the rejection of Toon fans too much to forgive. He refused to beg for their affection. A smart and astute businessman, he tackled the problem the only way he knew how – chasing a profit.
Tinkler had bigger problems, leading to his disinterest in the Jets. His financial empire was collapsing around him for a number of reasons, and he was dealing with intense media speculation and even an Independent Commission of Corruption investigation.
During the shaky periods both owners took umbrage with reports from local media, with Ashley blacklisting The Chronicle and the The Journal, and eventually national paper the Daily Telegraph. Reporting on fan protests and questioning transfer policy was not acceptable under Ashley’s iron fist, and the Telegraph remains banned to this day.
Tinkler was similarly unhappy with the amount of attention the The Newcastle Herald was directing towards his business practices, which included a trail of unpaid bills and dissatisfied customers. War was waged on the daily newspaper, especially against investigative reporters Donna Page and Robert Dillon. Ashley and Tinkler also saw fit to splash their companies’ advertising all over the two clubs’ stadiums, for no fee, and Ashley went as far as temporarily renaming St James’ Park as “sportsdirect.com@StJames’ParkStadium”.
Then there was the issue of player power at both clubs, both owners dealing with the problems in unique but similarly ruthless ways. Ashley sacked manager Chris Hughton, who had done a great job but was believed to have given too much influence to senior players such as Kevin Nolan, Joey Barton and Alan Smith. They all followed Hughton out of the door as new coach Alan Pardew took on the role as Ashley’s new puppet. On the other side the world, just this year Tinkler dealt with player revolts and poor results by taking an extraordinary route not often seen in football management. Instead of sacking the coach, Phil Stubbins, he tore up the contracts of three coaching staff and five senior players. Tinkler claimed it was all in the name of a necessary culture shift.
The changes at both clubs have left each squad operating on the bare minimum. Wage bills have been trimmed, star players have left, budget buys have been brought in and the performances on the pitch have reflected as much. Newcastle United have won just twice in 2015 under interim coach John Carver, while Stubbins is still somehow under contract despite a record of three wins in 27 matches, culminating in claiming the A-League’s wooden spoon at the weekend.
A week and a half ago, on a Sunday afternoon, Newcastle United supporters finally cracked. Mass protests were held outside St James’ Park to oppose Ashley’s ownership and an estimated 10,000 fans boycotted a 3-1 loss against Tottenham. The drastic action was the brainchild of AshleyOut.com, a website set up to unite frustrated and disenchanted Toon fans in their discontent with Newcastle United’s current regime, which they feel has ripped the heart and soul from the club.
It came just two days after Tinkler’s appearance in the stands at Hunter Stadium and should serve the Newcastle Jets owner with a warning of what the future may hold. Tinkler stands at a crossroads, and has two options right now – continue mimicking Ashley’s path of destruction or attempt to build bridges.
Reopening relations with the media is a starting point if he is to follow through with his strong words of recommitment. Yet just last week he was caught fiercely and aggressively lambasting Newcastle Herald journalist Dillon in the aftermath of the Sydney FC defeat. Such actions are not going to convince fans, or the media, that he is a changed man.
Tinkler has a chance to reinvent himself as the knight in shining armour 2.0. However, whether his finances or his attention span allows him to follow through is still in question. Fans are not buying into the hype just yet. For the Toon and Ashley there appears no way back. Relegation 2.0 may even be on the cards given the team have lost seven consecutive games and sit just five points from safety. While the Jets have a slim chance of a Renaissance era in the future, the Depression period at United looks certain to continue.
Two proud cities are losing grip on their beloved football teams, and the protests in the north-east of England a week ago are likely just the start of a messy and, perhaps ultimately, losing battle. Newcastle Jets supporters are currently in limbo, unsure whether to revolt or to renew their trust. Only Tinkler and Ashley know what will happen next at their respective clubs, and it is unnerving that the future of both lie solely in their hands. Fans can scream and shout all they want, but just like the working class coal miners of past years their voices are too often drowned out or ignored by the corporate bosses chasing profits.