Some things are bigger than football | OneFootball

It’s hard to convey to non-football people, or people who aren’t from the north east, how much it meant to see Newcastle United lift the cup on Sunday.

I was brought up hearing stories of the greats of the 1950s from my Grandad, went to my first match at seven years old, way back when we were in the old second division.

I had the thrill of those amazing Keegan sides, and then Sir Bobby’s superb teams a few years later, but never anything to show for it other than exciting moments and near misses.

Then the Mike Ashley years ,when I saw the club I loved turned into a soulless mess and genuinely came to believe that I wouldn’t live to see them win a single thing.

Anyone around here could tell basically the same story.

All of that changed on Sunday, and for me, it made every single disappointment of the 35 years since those tentative first steps up into the gods in the Milburn stand, worthwhile. These waters run deep around here.

Pope John Paul II, himself an avid KS Cracovia supporter and a pretty tasty goalkeeper in his youth, famously said that “of all the unimportant things, football is the most important.” Breaking this down a little, he is saying that outside of family, friends, religion if you follow one, and all of the other things that keep a roof over our heads and keep us going when times get tough, football is the thing that matters most.

This is because football presents a microcosm for human experience. It is one of very few places in the modern world where the majority of us can see genuine heroism in the performances and passions on the pitch. Where we can find stories of people like Dan Burn, who work their way up from the very bottom to touch the heights of greatness and from there enter into our cultural folklore. Football presents us with stories that mean more than anything fiction can convey.

Even when times were tough and when the club had been run into the ground, we always, in the very backs of our minds, maintained the feeling that maybe, just maybe, things would change, and we would feel the sun on our backs again.

Sadly, there are times in life when even with all of the hope and persistence in the world things don’t pan out, and we should remember that a generation of Geordies have lived and died without seeing their club, our club, life a domestic trophy.

We are the lucky few who saw all of that waiting, all of that crushing disappointment, pay off. That’s why there wasn’t a dry eye when the final whistle blew on Sunday evening. That’s why thousands gathered outside St James’ Park that night, absolutely beside themselves with joy. It was the release of many decades of broken hearts and stepped-on dreams. It was proof that sometimes, just sometimes, hope pays off.

That is what the late pope was referring to in the above quote. He understood that following football creates hope and the value that hope can have in all areas of life. He understood that football shows us that it is OK to dream.