A season-ending performance that no Newcastle United fan wanted.
That was shocking, shambolic and borderline scandalous.
Two goals conceded, both of them utterly avoidable. Only one on-target shot worthy of the name in the entire match. If you cannot defend properly or test the opposition keeper more than once, what hope is there?
Before kick-off, there was plenty of optimism among the travelling fans, perhaps buoyed by seven points from the previous three games. That return equalled anything we had put together all season, which itself was a damning statistic.
There has been no long winning run in 2025/26 and no consistency, except in the horribly predictable knack of losing games we have led, often to late, late goals.
More than six months ago, in an article for The Mag, I bemoaned the loss of our team’s identity, suggesting Sunderland had become hungrier, keener and more dangerous than Newcastle United.
The writing was on the wall before the flattest of Wear-Tyne derbies, when a freakish own-goal by Nick Woltemade ensured the Mackems took all three points from a game that would otherwise have finished 0-0. As in so many games this season, we produced barely any attempts on target.
Strong words were not followed by strong deeds in the return fixture at St James’ Park, where again Newcastle were outfought and out-thought by opponents undaunted by conceding the first goal. By March, every rival knew that falling behind to the Mags was by no means a serious blow. Single-handedly, we have disproved the cliche that scoring first is usually all-important in the Premier League. Unless we are the ones who concede . . .
I reject the accusation that Eddie Howe is inflexible. His many critics say he knows only 4-3-3. It just isn’t true. Yesterday we started with a 3-4-2-1 and in the first few minutes were the better team, despite losing Sandro Tonali to injury in the warm-up.
All too quickly, however, Fulham realised we were refusing to shoot on the rare occasions we strung together a few progressive passes in the final third. With little to fear, the hosts began to assert themselves. They had started the day below us in the table on goal difference. On paper, two evenly matched teams. But this was certainly not a game of small margins.
While we seemed to be trying to walk the ball into the net, Fulham were prepared to shoot and shoot again. By the final whistle, they had managed 21 attempts to our seven. They had six on target, we had two. I could have saved the weak Bruno Guimaraes effort. Joe Willock, the late replacement for Tonali, was the only player to test Leno, with a low angled shot that bounced away off the keeper’s right leg.
By then we were a goal down. Willock was penalised for a tackle 30 yards out in a central position. Kevin cracked the free-kick off the crossbar as Nick Pope dived in vain to reach it. Diop was the first to react, having started to run into our penalty area while most of our players stood and watched. OK, you can say he was lucky the rebound fell perfectly for him to nod home but you don’t win a prize without buying a ticket. He was in so much space I thought he might have been offside. No way. He was simply quicker in thought and deed.
The shade temperature at Craven Cottage was about 32C, which prompted no fewer than five drinks breaks. The first was called immediately after Diop’s goal. Conditions were difficult for both teams. One coped with them better, finding space, making the ball do the work.
The referee ended the first half after five minutes of stoppage time. Cue the booing from many black-and-whites in the Putney End, who had until then offered plenty of vocal encouragement with a full repertoire of positive chants.
Harvey Barnes replaced Jacob Murphy at the restart but had little impact. Lewis Hall burst forward down the left flank for the first and last time as we went in search of an equaliser. For some inexplicable reason, Robert Jones refused to book Bassey for the most blatant shirt-pull.
A few minutes later, Bruno Guimaraes was challenged near the halfway line and went to ground. He grabbed the ball and was immediately carded. That was his last contribution, with Anthony Elanga replacing him.
I don’t want to single out anyone because not one player emerged with credit. What cannot be denied, however, is that when our captain is well below his best, as he was yesterday, the team look mediocre. Newcastle United are not a one-man outfit and we have won games when he has been absent. If he is on the pitch and on-form, nearly all our play goes through him. If he is on the pitch and off-form, that causes massive problems, because nearly all the play still goes through him. Then it breaks down.
When Eddie Howe switched to a back four in the second half, Hall played most of it on the right flank. The match two weeks ago at the City Ground offered plenty of evidence he is uncomfortable and ineffectual on that side. Yesterday proved it beyond all reasonable doubt.
The manager has been rightly praised for nurturing and developing young talents such as Hall, Tino Livramento and Lewis Miley, to name only three. A currently injured Livramento is going to the World Cup but Hall, who looked certain to be included in the 26-man squad a few short months ago, is staying at home. His performance against Fulham matched that of his teammates: lacking in energy and ambition, caught out of position, disjointed.
Why didn’t he play in his normal position all afternoon, either in front of a back three or as a traditional but enterprising left-back? Because the manager, for whatever reason, decided Kieran Trippier should stay on the bench until the bitter end.
Our former captain is not the player he was when he lifted the League Cup 14 months ago but nobody should question his will to win, his professionalism and his nous. Those qualities were sadly missing yesterday.
Howe is often accused of being overly loyal to his favourites. Putting it another way, he knows his best players and sticks with them. That’s a sensible and admirable approach when they and the team are on song. The problems start when they are not.
Another of the manager’s habits seems to be selecting the line-up based on what he sees in training. With two games a week, time on the training ground is limited, which helps to explain an apparent reluctance to experiment.
Since the defeat by Sunderland on Sunday, March 22 (the first of four consecutive losses in the Premier League) Newcastle have had no midweek fixtures. Extra days of training each week. There has been no big upturn. The fourth defeat in that unwanted run was at the Emirates, against the new champions. No disgrace there, a decent performance by United, although the only goal was a defensive disaster. Arsenal played three corners short in the space of five minutes. From the third, Eze struck an unstoppable shot. He had been lurking unmarked on the edge of the penalty area for just such an opportunity and had already enjoyed the luxury of a warm-up attempt.
That match was played on April 25, precisely 29 days before the curtain fell on the Premier League season. A good team — those on and off the pitch — will learn from their mistakes. We didn’t.
The clinching goal, scored by Cairney, was almost a carbon copy of Eze’s. Fulham won a corner on our left. Two players stood alongside the ball. One opponent, in this case Anthony Elanga, moved as close as the law allows, 10 yards.
What use is one player against two opponents? A short corner involving two players must be countered by two opponents. Otherwise, the defending team have wasted a man and done nothing to prevent a quick one-two.
Yesterday an arm went up from the Fulham player about to take the kick. Elanga appeared to think this was the signal for a cross direct into the box. He backed away a few yards. He was now in no position to close down either opponent.
Predictably, Fulham played the quick short pass, then found Cairney in splendid isolation near the left corner of our box. A couple of touches to set himself, a check to ensure his sights were perfectly adjusted and Goodnight Vienna. A beautifully struck swerving shot flew into the right corner of Pope’s net.
Rarely have I been so sickened by a sucker punch. Well, not for a month, anyway. The second goal killed any prospect of taking even a point from the game.
At the end, after eight minutes were added to the 45, mainly for three drinks breaks, we were dallying over a free-kick in midfield. The players looked as though they couldn’t wait for their summer holidays when the final whistle went.
As the manager acknowledged later, we were mentally and physically lacking. That is unacceptable.
I didn’t boo, jeer or hurl abuse at the team I profess to love. I just stood in silence while many fellow supporters vented their anger.
Within a minute, the players walked towards the away section of the Putney End and the cat calls turned to applause. It lasted longer than the booing had. Dan Burn was grinning and waving enthusiastically in our direction, having presumably noticed family or friends.
From where I was standing, it seemed a strange end to a strange season.