Like most Newcastle United fans of my generation, Bobby Robson wasn’t just another manager.
He arrived when the club had lost its way, reminded us what Newcastle United was supposed to look like, and gave us some of the best memories we’ve had in the Premier League era.
That alone would have been enough to make him a hero in the North-East.
But the more I’ve read about him over the years, the more I’ve realised Newcastle is only one chapter in a much bigger story. One last successful chapter in an extraordinary career in the dugout.
Talk to an Ipswich supporter and they’ll tell you about the greatest manager their club has ever had.
Speak to fans of Porto or Sporting and they’ll tell you about the Englishman who embraced Portuguese football and won league titles.
Barcelona supporters still remember the three trophies he won in a single season, while England fans still wonder what might have happened had a penalty shootout in Turin gone a different way.
It’s difficult to think of another British manager who was so respected in so many different countries.
In football, success usually earns admiration.
Sir Bobby Robson earned affection.
That’s what has always fascinated me.
Football has never been short of successful managers. There are plenty who won more trophies than Robson. Others changed the game tactically or dominated for years.
Yet when people talk about the greatest managers, Bobby’s name is never far away.
Not because he won the most.
Because of the sort of man he was.
The more stories you read the more one thing becomes obvious. Bobby didn’t have one way of managing players. He had dozens.
He understood that every player was different, which meant every player needed something different from him.
Some needed an arm around the shoulder.
Others needed a kick up the backside.
Some wanted to be challenged.
Others simply needed somebody to believe in them.
Long before sports psychologists and leadership consultants became part of football, Bobby just seemed to know what made people tick.
Craig Bellamy is probably the best example.
Bellamy has spoken openly about what he was like as a young player. He could be difficult, impatient and demanding. Bobby would often joke that Bellamy drove him mad during the week, but he also knew exactly what he was going to get on a Saturday afternoon.
Rather than trying to change him, Bobby accepted him.
He understood that if you wanted everything Bellamy could give you on the pitch, you sometimes had to accept the chaos that came with him off it.
Not every manager could have done that.
Even the stories that make people laugh tell you something about him.
Take his habit of getting players’ names wrong.
It became one of his trademarks. He’d work his way through three or four names before finally landing on the right one.
Nobody seemed to mind.
In fact, most of them loved telling the story.
That probably tells you everything you need to know.
The mistakes didn’t matter because everybody knew how much Bobby cared about them.
When Bobby arrived to manage the club in 1999, Newcastle United had lost its identity. We’d gone from challenging for Premier League titles to becoming a club that felt stuck. The supporters were frustrated and the optimism that had defined the Kevin Keegan years had well and truly disappeared.
Then Bobby walked through the door.
Almost overnight, there was belief again.
The football improved.
St James’ Park felt alive.
Players looked like they were enjoying themselves.
Supporters certainly were.
Did we win the Premier League?
No.
Did we lift a major trophy?
Sadly not.
But ask Newcastle United supporters where Sir Bobby Robson ranks among our greatest managers and I think you’ll struggle to find many who don’t have him near the very top.
There’s a reason he has a statue standing proudly outside St James Park.
That’s because football memories aren’t always built on medals.
Sometimes they’re built on moments.
Craig Bellamy’s winner in Rotterdam.
Andy Griffin’s header against Juventus.
Laurent Robert scoring goals that didn’t seem physically possible.
Alan Shearer enjoying some of the best years of his career.
Those nights reminded us what Newcastle United could be.
Of course, Bobby’s story had already taken him around Europe long before he came home.
His time at Barcelona is a perfect example.
When he arrived in Catalonia in 1996, there were plenty who doubted whether an English manager could succeed at one of the biggest clubs in world football.
Twelve months later he’d won the Copa del Rey, the Spanish Super Cup and the European Cup Winners’ Cup.
Not bad for a manager some people thought wasn’t sophisticated enough for Barcelona.
But trophies only tell part of that story.
During that single season, Bobby managed one of the greatest individual campaigns football has ever seen from Ronaldo. The Brazilian scored goals at a rate that almost defied belief, playing with a freedom that Bobby encouraged rather than restricted.
Working alongside him was a young translator called José Mourinho.
Officially, Mourinho translated Bobby’s team talks and press conferences. But he was doing much more than that.
Mourinho has often spoken about the trust Bobby placed in him, how he involved him in coaching sessions and discussions, and how much he learned simply by standing beside him every day.
Years later, after winning league titles across Europe and two Champions Leagues, Mourinho still talks about Sir Bobby Robson with enormous affection.
That seems to be the thread running through Bobby’s entire career.
Whether it was a young player trying to establish himself, an experienced international, a member of the backroom staff or a supporter waiting outside a training ground, people came away feeling they’d mattered.
When I first thought about writing this series of articles, I assumed it would be about one of Newcastle United’s greatest managers.
The more I’ve researched his life, the more I’ve realised it isn’t.
It’s about a man who happened to manage Newcastle.
It’s about somebody who proved you could be fiercely competitive without losing your humility.
That you could demand the highest standards while treating people with kindness.
That success and decency don’t have to be opposites.
Football has changed enormously since Sir Bobby Robson first kicked a ball.
Some of those changes have improved the game.
Some haven’t.
But I don’t think there’s ever been a time when football needed people like Bobby more than it does now.
Over the next few weeks we’ll follow his managerial journey from Fulham to Ipswich to England, through Europe and finally home to Newcastle United.
We’ll look at the triumphs, the setbacks and the remarkable career that made him one of football’s most respected figures.
Like most Newcastle supporters, I thought I knew Sir Bobby Robson’s story.
It turns out I only knew the Newcastle chapter.
The rest of it is every bit as remarkable.
(Aaron also has his very own Substack)