Tyne-Wear Derby

One of the most acrimonious derby games in English football (some would firmly place it at number one), it was one Newcastle simply couldn't lose, having embarrassed the Mackems (Sunderland FC) at the Stadium of Light in August 2011. Having spent most of my life in Singapore as a Newcastle supporter, I'd always wanted the team to beat the Manchester Uniteds and the Liverpools. Spending one and a half years in the Northeast of England has altered my expectations tremendously. As my friend John (a Newcastle fan who's had a season ticket for some three decades) accurately put it, 'it gets into your skin and mind'. He was referring to the appreciation of the Tyne-Wear rivalry and its significance in this part of the British Isles. There exists a long history of enmity between the Geordies and Mackems - I'm willing to share the myths and historical reality with anyone interested - and even today, this is manifested in the football derby between both sides. Being in Durham affords me the luxury of both worlds, and support for both teams is split right in the middle. As a Newcastle fan, it's important that I enter the correct pub (I'm thankful to have found a reliable Geordie pub some 100m from home) and wearing a team scarf around Durham puts you at the risk of assenting cheers or expressions of bewilderment. Having been acquainted with several Sunderland fans (my barber, my church friend, evangelistic Mackems at the Woodman Inn, etc) makes the derby a more meaningful and exciting one for me, and especially 'un-lose-able'. Every Newcastle fan would rather beat Sunderland than Manchester United (another team that is tremendously disliked over here) and the thought of losing to the Mackems can drive any supporter to consuming countless bottles of 'broon' (Newcastle Brown Ale). I think I finally, albeit in a relatively limited capacity such is my status as a foreigner, comprehend the term 'bragging rights', especially in a local context.

We didn't beat the Mackems this time round, but Shola Ameobi - the only player remaining from the team I first supported in 2001 - spared our blushes with an injury-time equaliser which sent the Newcastle faithful into raptures. We had been trailing for about an hour of game time and that defeated feeling threatened to inundate me (and many other supporters), especially after Demba Ba's missed penalty. The rippling of the net did so much to release all the pent-up emotion from almost 50,000 spectators and I couldn't help but hug everyone seated around me. There would be no bragging rights for the team from Wearside and I could head back to Durham proud of the team effort. Recalling my first Tyne-Wear derby last year when I was merely Newcastle supporter in love with the Toon Army, playing the passionate spectator in a cauldron of a stadium, I realise how 'far' I've come during my experience in the Northeast thus far. I feel that I've now been accorded the curious privilege of being part of what Newcastle United really is all about, which is not as much about the 11 men on the field but the 12th man off it.