No relegation fear but derby’s still tense

Apr 17 2008 by Luke Edwards, The Journal

The Tyne-Wear derby is a horribly tense occasion at the best of times so imagine what it would have been like if the loser was also going to suffer the disaster of relegation.

YOUR mouth is harsh and dry, like you have just mistaken a cup of sand for mouthwash, and your head feels like the cast of Riverdance has just had a rehearsal on your temples.

As you clasp your sweaty palms together in prayer, possibly for the first time since you sat in a school assembly, you notice your nails have been bitten so often that you have started to chew the skin off the ends of your fingers. Welcome to derby day; a day which can be one of the most incredible, joyous and magical experiences of your life, but one which can also be so upsetting, so painful and depressing that it is enough to make you want to pull the duvet over your head and hibernate for days after.

For the victors there is the swagger of celebration. For the losers there is only the trudge of humiliation – and a long and frustrating wait to try to put things right again. The Tyne-Wear derby has plenty of rivals for passion. The global game is full of such clashes where reason is always swamped by emotion but there is not a more intensely passionate occasion in English football.

Whatever may be said about the respective qualities of the derbies between Liverpool and Manchester United or Arsenal and Tottenham, they do not have the zest and zeal of Newcastle against Sunderland.

While Birmingham, Liverpool and London can boast a derby which divides a city for the day, the North East has a derby which affects an entire region. From the borders of Scotland in the north, to the rolling hills of Yorkshire in the south and to Carlisle in the west, Newcastle versus Sunderland is far more than just a battle between those on the banks of the rivers Tyne and Wear.

On Sunday, whether it is the supporters glued to television sets or radios, a mother taking her children to the park to play on the swings or a teenager off to work at the local supermarket, everyone in the North East will have an interest in what happens at St James’s Park. There are other derbies which can claim to have wider ramifications for local populations. The North East derby, for example, does not have the religious connotations of the Old Firm face-off between Rangers and Celtic in Glasgow. Neither does it have the political aspect of Catalunya’s Barcelona against Real Madrid, the traditional club of the Spanish political elite who govern them.

But in a region where football has often been likened to a religion, you can see why it means so much to the people of both cities. The rivalry between Newcastle and Sunderland is a rivalry between two proud cities, with all the historical, political and economic baggage that comes with it. The people of Newcastle perceive themselves – and are probably perceived – as the superior of the two, the fashionable aristocrats with the national attention looking to emphasis their pre-eminence.

The citizens of Sunderland are, in contrast, largely seen as the poor relation, living in Newcastle’s shadow, but desperate to prove themselves and their city as an equal and, in the process, expose the false arrogance of their neighbours. In football, these two cities find the easiest and most inclusive expression of that struggle for status and recognition and it is why, for two days of the year, a single match comes to mean so much.

However, with so much already stake, there will perhaps be a quiet sense of relief among both sets of supporters that this weekend’s meeting between the two sides will be for local bragging rights only.

It is still less than a month ago that both clubs were sliding worryingly close to the relegation places. While Sunderland had been expected to struggle since they were promoted almost 12 months ago and have hovered just out of danger for much of the season, Newcastle’s crash was an alarming one.

A run of 13 games without a league win sent them spiralling down the table and the Magpies looked in disarray, criticised off the pitch and on it by those who believed they never should have asked Kevin Keegan to return as manager. With the teams around them picking up points, the Tyne-Wear derby looked as though it would determine not only local pride, but which one of them also suffered the ignominy of relegation to the Championship.

Thankfully for Keegan and his opposite number at Sunderland, Roy Keane, both teams have found their form as winter has given way to spring and three successive wins before last weekend’s results have hauled both of them away from the danger zone.

Neither are mathematically safe, but few would bet on them being caught by those below them, whoever takes the points on Sunday. For the neutral, for the thousands of people who will settle down in front of their television sets on Sunday lunchtime to watch the game, there will be a sense of disappointment that even more is not at stake. After all, it is easy to enjoy watching a drama unfold if you are ambivalent to the ultimate outcome, but rather less enjoyable if it could end in catastrophe.

Rest assured, however, the lack of a relegation threat will do nothing to dampen the tribal fires among those who know that, on derby day, football is not just a matter of life and death, it is much more important than that.