The King is dead

Despite the recent revelation that Kevin Keegan had Stage 4 cancer, the news of his death at the age of 75 has still come as a devastating hammer blow.

Keegan had a radically transformative impact on Newcastle not once but twice, first on the pitch and then on the sidelines. Both times, his arrival not only arrested decline but reoriented the club in the right direction.

I'm too young to have seen him play (except for during John Anderson's testimonial, when he turned out in green, opposing those in black and white), but tales of his tenacity, work rate and goalscoring prowess were familiar. When he returned as a manager, the impact was almost immediate, and for the next five years we played with an unparalleled verve, dynamism, relentlessness and positivity. Not for nowt was the "Entertainers" tag earned; watching us was rarely less than thrilling.

Keegan's ethos was simply that matches are won by outscoring the opposition, and we accumulated the firepower to blow pretty much anyone away. In those terms, defence was unimportant. (Darren Peacock once pleaded for a defensive training session, which was duly delivered and then never repeated.) It was, quite simply, a glorious time to be a fan - even if ultimately we won nothing more than a lot of games and the hearts of neutrals.

Stories abound of Keegan's rapport with players, and of his decency, honesty and humility as a man as well as a much-decorated player and a manager. But perhaps what made him most special was his passion, charisma and ability to instil belief in both the team and the fans, galvanising the club and the city.

It remains the source of much sadness that Keegan's brief third spell panned out so badly, with Mike Ashley appearing to quell fan unrest by appointing our former double saviour only to be seemingly intent on undermining and humiliating him at every turn. That Keegan won the subsequent court case comes as scant consolation - but, while his relationship with our oafish owner at the time soon broke down, his relationship with the club or its supporters never soured.

Being a fan can be a blessing; it can also be a curse. For the fact that I've been an avid follower for 34 years, through thick and (more often) thin, the blame can be placed firmly at Keegan's door. Thank you for everything, King Kev.