“The reality is that we will be starting next season in the Championship. The expectation will be huge, but there’s a lot of work needed between now and then to get the club ready for that.

“There are huge problems at the club – I think that’s clear for everyone to see. Relegation isn’t about today – it’s about what’s gone on this season, last season and the season before. It’s a culmination of everything. In the end, the three worst teams go down and, unfortunately, Newcastle are one of them.

"I’ll sit down with the owner and the chairman this week and give my opinions. Big decisions need to be made – players need to go, and players need to come in.

“What needs to change? A hell of a lot needs to change. there’s a million things you can look at this season, last season, and going back a long way that haven’t been right.

“I’m not blaming anyone – it’s happened – but what’s important now is that the football club gets back on track. 

I know you won’t believe me, but I honestly haven’t had time to sit down and think about what my future will be. I haven’t thought about what would be the right thing for the club.

“But I’m hurting. I take my share of responsibility for what’s happened, and feel sorry that I’ve let those wonderful supporters down. I have a tremendous relationship with the supporters, for whatever reason, and I’ve worked very, very hard to try to rectify the situation.

“It hasn’t worked for a variety of reasons, and I regret that. I’m raw inside, as are a lot of people involved in the club. but the simple fact of the matter is that big mistakes have been made and we’re paying the price for that now.”
   

From Filbert Street to Villa Park: a 33 mile journey encompassing 17 years & 663 league games.

Our final day nail-biter in 1992 saw us record a victory that was ultimately meaningless, as scorelines elsewhere secured our survival in the second tier of the game. But something had changed, as a new impetus propelled us through the following season and saw us gatecrash the Premier League party.

Sixteen seasons later, another midlands finale saw us unable to save our own miserable hides, despite others doing their best to smooth our passage once more. Unfortunately the 21st century escape route actually required us to do something ourselves - a task that proved to be utterly beyond us.

But if that Leicester game had been our El Alamein (on and off the field), then Villa Park proved to be a black and white Dunkirk - use of the word charge as in "Charge of the Light Brigade" would have inappropriate, implied as it does some forward momentum that we've not possessed for many moons.

After a season of constant disappointment, capitulation and carelessness, this game topped the lot though - and in attempting to move through the gears, Alan Shearer's side only found reverse.

In the end one goal settled matters - but while Duff's inadvertent OG and our failure to find the net took the final day headlines and had fans on Humberside and Wearside dancing in the aisles, goals conceded and not scored throughout the season did as much to seal our fate. Pick your own - any of the old boys netting against us, Ryan Taylor's two efforts for Wigan, the continual cockeyedness of Martins etc. etc.

In classic Newcastle United style though, things weren't straightforward - with those much-predicted last day "twists and turns" consisting of a 14 minute window between Manchester United going ahead 
at the KC Stadium and Steve Harper picking the ball out of his own net. As someone once said, it's the hope I can't stand.

Villa played like a side who had won just one of their previous 15 outings and had one eye on the swimming pool; but after surviving our brief first half flurry and going ahead, their second half display became increasingly prosaic. Perhaps they felt sorry for us, or maybe they'd had a late night out on Broad Street - certainly John Carew's glaring miss suggested a further bout of curfew-breaking.

Even at half-pace though, Martin O'Neill's disinterested troops were never in any trouble in the second half against a moribund United who sleepwalked through the final 45 minutes of their top-flight tenure. 

To the untrained eye, this looked like a typical end of season dead rubber, lucky to warrant 90 seconds -worth of coverage in the final Match of The Day slot. But while the home side had little to play for, this should have been our last stand - a glorious failure, a final attempt to salvage some pride. No, this bunch of flunkies couldn't even serve up that - the condemned men skipped their final meal. 

And post-match TV viewing later still left feelings of incredulity as to precisely just how we filled in all of that time without ever looking anything other than clueless, gutless and totally shambolic.

Unlike a court of law though, we have no problems with a double jeopardy rule so can therefore revisit former crimes - of which there were many and numerous. Defensive jitters were expected and duly delivered, with the skittish Coloccini and Edgar both continually done for pace. 

And as ever, the midfield was austere and limited - Guthrie incapable of playing down the right and the rest of them combining with the strikeforce to summon up a big fat zero. Michael Owen did appear in the second half but fittingly for a stable owner, may as well have been declared a non-runner.

And if our final sighting of Viduka was today, then his last meaningful act was suitably farcical - stretching his leg in a vain attempt to cut out a pass, his pose reminiscent of an elephant in a tutu.

Gutierrez meanwhile was even denied a final flounce and left to spend the afternoon thrusting his groin from the sidelines in an elongated warm-up. Did someone nick his bike? 

Maybe it's because we're now just too cynical and world-weary, but this demotion hasn't affected us half as much as previous setbacks such as the Sporting Lisbon or Marseille UEFA losses, the Chelsea semi-final defeat or even the mackem reverse in the playoffs. 

Those days brought on post-match depressions of monumental proportions, when even speaking was a major effort, never mind attempting an inquest. This time round however there was none of that. 
A swift exit and then off onto the motorway, speeding away from top-flight football for god knows how long. Successive failures to grab the lifebelt recently had led to that sinking feeling for so long that in the end it was a merciful release.

It gives us no pleasure to record that our first mention of relegation came after the fourth league game of the season (Hull at home), but we do slightly regret not taking the 12/1 odds offered.....

A horrible season is at an end and the usual blame game is being played, with a cast of villains on and off the field who have contributed to our downfall since the final whistle in our League Cup win at Coventry last August. Within hours, Milner had been sold, unwanted signings Xisco and Gonzalez brought in, Dennis Wise given the keys to the kingdom and Keegan flounced off. Again. Pick your target - boo, hiss etc.

In truth though, our finally hitting the buffers in May 2009 is as a result of having been on the wrong track for half a decade. For all the off-field buffoonery at SJP that has kept the nation entertained, the continual failures have been on the pitch since Bobby Robson's tenure was allowed to stretch on too long without thought of grooming a credible successor.

Successive squads have been ever more laden with mercenaries and players for whom the deal was a more powerful selling point than their talent. And finally we became top-heavy with faceless non -entities, shorn even of the gifted but erratic showmen who just occasionally summoned up something worth paying to see.

And had we escaped this time, that would have provided those in charge with good reason to avoid the root and branch surgery required - and doubtless seen us revisit this god-awful scenario next season. No, don't put it off any more - let's get cracking with the knacking.   

He may have won only once, but if nothing else Alan Shearer took the fight to the last game - even if his side threw in the towel. He postponed what was an inevitable demotion under Chris Hughton, with the club slipping beneath the waves amid widespread apathy, offering a semblance of hope and pride to the supporters that nobody on the field managed to.

Like a dealer offering free samples to potential customers, hopefully those eight weeks at the helm gave him both a taste of the Gallowgate drug and a craving for more. The two main benefits of this season may be Al's renewed sense of unfinished business in Toon and a reasonable idea of what needs to be done in that dressing room to create a team worthy of that name. If you give Ashley credit for nothing else, then getting the number nine off Gary Lineker's couch deserves applause. 

Quite simply Shearer has to stay in the job - and either succeed or screw it up. Until either of those two things happen, nobody else will be given the chance by certain sections of our support and certain sections of the media. And if he chooses not to take on the challenge, that leaves the current owner of the club with nowhere to go - except back down the A1, reputation battered beyond resurrection.

We've been down before and it's a thankless task to return, but it's our task. When the new season comes round, there will be excitement and anticipation - and when the first goal is scored by a Toon player, the cheers will be genuine, regardless of the identity and supposed pedigree of the opposition. Now we find out who the real fans - and the big game hunters - are.

Save for the brief interlude of Keegan's side in the back end of last season, watching this lot just hasn't been enjoyable in recent years - to be entertained is not an unreasonable demand, it's a human right. 

And if going out of this league is the only way to jettison the parasites whose inaction has brought us to our knees, then so be it. Hell, I'd swap places with Gateshead to see the back of most of these money -grabbing tw@ts.

It only remains for us to thank those who need to be thanked for services rendered, arses covered and other miscellaneous deeds performed in our name. As for next season, what's not to look forward to? eight more league games and European adventures - Cardiff and Swansea. 

Fare thee well until the next time.