The relationship between Newcastle United manager Alan Pardew and the club's supporters is broken beyond repair. Support for Pardew has eroded over several years due to poor results, including a run of form that resembles a relegation battle. While some of Newcastle's struggles are not Pardew's fault due to the club's ownership and transfer dealings, the manager is ultimately responsible for on-field performance. Growing unrest among the supporters shows something needs to change at the club.

1. It is broken. Not frayed, but broken. Not hanging by a thread, but broken. Not fractured, but
broken. The relationship between Alan Pardew and the supporters of Newcastle United can no
longer be framed in terms of tension or discontent, grumbling or unease because, on the face of
it, there is no longer a relationship to frame. There is a fissure at the heart of the football club
which can neither be ignored or repaired.
There is a point in the cycle when the conversation stops being about whether a manager can
turn things around, whether he is motivating his players, whether he is good enough, bold
enough or suited to the rhythm of his workplace and it starts being about timing. Amid the
banners and slogans of fans who had travelled to Southampton on Saturday, the 4­0
defeat, the
calls for dismissal, the mockery and derision, the sight of a coach, John Carver, rounding on
fans, that point was crossed.
There is nothing knee­jerk
about Newcastle’s predicament. It is not a response to four league
matches without victory, nor the team’s position at the foot of the Barclays Premier League. This
is not because Pardew was born in London or because his club’s followers are a restless,
seething mass of deluded sheet­daubers,
although you could be forgiven for thinking that; it is a
dull, old complaint, but fans remain the subject of witless stereotyping. This is about history. It is
also about facts.
Back in May, Newcastle won a match against Cardiff City 3­0,
although victory proved a relative
concept. The unrest began in the third minute, with a chant directed at Mike Ashley, the owner.
There were two organised walkouts, in the 60th and 69th minutes, accompanied by chants of
“We want Pardew out” and “Alan Pardew, it’s never your fault.” Pardew, who had recently been
banished from the touchline, was beaten back again by a surge of vitriol.
At any other stage of the season, his position would have been intolerable; episodes such as that
are rare, but they linger in the memory and trust, faith and understanding had been forsaken.
What worked in Pardew’s favour was the full stop provided by the end of the season, an
opportunity to turn a page and begin afresh. Nine players were signed in the summer. Pardew
spoke about the “new Newcastle United.”
But, the context for the Southampton result is deep. Over the course of 2014, Newcastle have
won five games in the league; stack up the numbers and it is relegation form. In nine of those 23
matches, 15 of which have been lost, they have conceded three goals or more, while their
biggest victory, 4­1
at Hull City, came with Pardew earning an official warning, a fine of £100,000
and a long suspension from the touchline over his boorish altercation with David Meyler.
The 53­year­old
is the second longest­serving
manager in the division, but only once has
Pardew led Newcastle beyond the third round of the FA Cup, while his record in the Capital One
Cup is little better. He has presided over three consecutive defeats to Sunderland, the club’s
local rivals, a dubious achievement last achieved in 1924. There are a welter of other statistics,
but there is also the evidence of the eyes.

2. Impatience does not taint that evidence. There is a great lie about Newcastle supporters ­Sunderland,
too ­and
it centres on the word “expectation”. It implies grandeur, ideas above their
station, a stubborn refusal to accept reality. There is nothing wrong with pushing for
improvement ­if
you finish sixth one year, why not hope for fifth the next? ­and
if you have a
crowd of 52,000 where is the crime in ambition, but “expectation” has become a handy excuse
for failed managers.
It is also rubbish. When Newcastle stir, it is worth listening, simply because it happens so
infrequently. If Newcastle fans express concern at their manager, then you pay attention
because loyalty clings to them like guilt. There have been spasms of anger, but there was no
revolution when Ashley’s decisions propelled the club towards relegation, when the name of the
stadium was changed, when Joe Kinnear came and went. If there is fury now, it means
something.
It means something because the reality of Newcastle is not ferment or turmoil. It is the opposite.
If they have been threatened with anything, it is by the stealth of apathy, an acceptance of their
lot, an existence made up of “priorities”, by the dash for ninth, where the Europa League is an
inconvenience. Where a sporting institution straining for glory has been replaced by a works’
team which plods on for the sake of it, recycling money.
It is no longer mitigation to say that Pardew is a decent manager; if he is, he is not showing it. It
is no longer mitigation to say that Newcastle finished fifth in 2012; they did, but so what? It is no
longer mitigation to say the devil you know is better than the one you don’t; little (more Kinnear
apart) could be less rewarding than this. And, it is no longer mitigation to say that Ashley is the
problem; he may be, but for the next two years, he is staying put.
When the Pardew era is judged, the structure of the club will be a contributing factor. Good
managers challenge; they challenge players to improve and challenge owners to invest, but
Ashley does not want to be challenged. The delineation of duties between manager and Graham
Carr, the influential chief scout, has never been precise enough, while their transfer policy can
simultaneously be worthy, uncompromising and flawed.
It is not Pardew’s fault that Kinnear was a risible appointment as director of football, that two
windows opened and shut without Newcastle making a permanent signing. It was not his doing
that Yohan Cabaye was sold in January, robbing his team of its creative fulcrum. It is not down to
him that a frontline replacement for Loïc Rémy was not found. If Rémy Cabella has not yet
settled and Siem de Jong is injured, can he be held accountable?
Yet Pardew fell out with Hatem Ben Arfa and dispatched him to Hull City on­loan;
the France
international, prickly but popular, was deemed an asset, explanations were not given and the
propaganda battle lost. Because Pardew is the only public face at Newcastle, each word he

3. utters is poured over and picked apart and even if his tone is reasonable, it is the other stuff that
grasps the attention. He is tarnished by association.
In the final analysis, results have been so miserable that sympathy has leeched away; the
matters Pardew cannot control are now overshadowed by results, his core responsibility. Those
results could turn, but Cardiff and Southampton have illustrated that pressing the reset button will
not do much and if it means the manager being stricken in his dugout or his assistant breaking
off from a warm­up
session to remonstrate with supporters, then something has been lost.
The decision, when it comes, will be Ashley’s and, having banned journalists who wrote last
week that Pardew had two games to save his job, the only indication is reassuring for the
manager, but the worth of that may be limited; gambling is second­nature
to the owner, but he
will not risk another relegation. That is the bottom line and Ashley cares most about the bottom
line, but the cry from the stands is now loud and constant: it is time for change.