So the Toon are all but doon, with only the most giddily optimistic of fans believing that the lacklustre team can win three of its remaining four fixtures, the next of which is Liverpool away. But who is to blame for Newcastle United’s crushing downfall? The answer is complicated, but let’s simplify it by drawing a pie chart.

Of course it has all been downhill since Kevin Keegan and then Kenny Dalglish led the club to two consecutive second-place Premier League finishes in 1996 and 97. But the depths the club finds itself wallowing in now can be traced back to 2004, and the departure of Bobby Robson.

It’s one of the many baffling myths associated with Newcastle United that Robson was sacked when the club were 5th in the league. In fact they were 16th, and Robson, struggling to deal with a squad full of brats and prima donnas, probably had to go. Unfortunately, the club did not have a suitable replacement lined up, and that is where our blame game begins…

Freddy Shepherd. Dismissed Robson without a suitable replacement, then appointed Graeme Souness – a man said to be days away from the sack at struggling Blackburn. Subsequently appointed Sam Allardyce. Backed his managers with transfer funds, but racked up crippling debts, paying cash for purchases but accepting instalments on sales, and failing to ensure players’ contracts had crucial clauses such as those that would allow pay cuts on relegation.

Graeme Souness. Disassembled Bobby Robson’s Newcastle just as he had disassembled Kenny Dalglish’s Liverpool, but the self-styled hard man failed to deal with troublemakers like Kieron Dyer and Lee Bowyer. Made a series of terrible signings – Jean Alain Boumsong, Amady Faye et al – and plunged the club into mediocrity. Won just 16 out of 56 Premier League games.

Glenn Roeder. Made a fist of things during his first few months in charge, with Alan Shearer alongside him for support, but crumbled the following season. Still has a better win ratio than any other manager since Robson.

Sam Allardyce. Brought in scores of coaches and sports scientists, but no good players. Today’s squad was shaped, in many ways, by Sam Allardyce. Showed arrogance bordering on bloody-mindedness by making the same mistakes match after match, and the team moved from mediocre to pathetic. Won only a third of his Premier League games.

Mike Ashley. Rightly sacked Allardyce and appointed Keegan, but then failed to back his manager with transfer funds. Appointed Derek Llambias to run the club, and Dennis Wise to recruit players. Backed Wise over Keegan on transfers, precipitating Keegan’s walk-out. Appointed the inadequate but largely blameless Joe Kinnear, then failed to back him in the transfer market. Delayed replacing Kinnear when he became seriously ill, leaving the club managerless for two months until the temporary appointment of Alan Shearer.

Kevin Keegan. Difficult to attribute any blame to KK, but, whatever the circumstances, he did walk out on his job, and the club would not be in the position they are in now had he knuckled down and got on with things.

Joe Kinnear. Was never the right man for the job, and it showed – he won just 4 out of 19 Premier League matches before being sidelined by illness. But he was handed a poisoned chalice, and can’t take much blame.

Derek Llambias. No relevant experience when it comes to running a football club, but Ashley must shoulder the blame for that. Unknown how much input he had into Ashley’s bad decisions. Got the club’s PR stance very wrong, but was saddled with a very difficult job.

Dennis Wise. Brought in to sign world beaters. Signed Coliccini (for £10 million), Xisco, Gonzales, Nolan, Taylor… Got a few all-expenses trips to Brazil and £1.5 million pay off out of it, so not a complete waste of time then.

The Players. Not all of them, of course. The likes of Nicky Butt, Steve Harper and Habib Beye don’t deserve any criticism, nor do the youngsters trying to learn their trade in difficult circumstances, but the remainder of the senior squad can largely be divided into three categories: Not Good Enough, Not Committed Enough, and Not Fit Enough. They don’t deserve the support they continue to receive.

So what does the future hold for Newcastle United? The best case scenario would be a consortium buying the club, removing Ashley and Llambias, appointing a capable manager, and clearing out much of the playing squad. Even if that does happen, a recovery for this club could take years. Those named above must shoulder the blame – the pie does not lie.

[UPDATE 26/05/09: View the NUFC Venn Diagram of Shame]

My book, about supporting Newcastle United in happier times, is Black & White Army.

Football Newcastle United

My story on the ebook format war is in today’s Guardian. It was clear from this week’s London Book Fair that the UK publishing industry is finally ready to embrace ebooks. But before the ebook can really challenge its paper equivalent, the industry has to avert a format war a whole lot more complicated than VHS vs Betamax. Read more here.

Books, Technology eBooks, The Guardian

I’ve just spent a day and a half at the London Book Fair, primarily researching a feature on ebooks – more of which tomorrow. The LBF is the UK trade show for publishers, retailers and book industry service providers.

The first thing that struck me when wandering around the Earls Court venue was that it seemed so much busier than last year. Aisles seemed narrower, with more stands squeezed in, and it was difficult trying to negotiate a route past slow-moving foreign delegates and publishing assistants trundling heavy trolleys full of book proofs. Perhaps the recession had forced more of the book trade to venture out in search of the big deal that might keep them afloat for another year.

Something that quickly becomes apparent as you wander past the many thousands of books being whored is that few of them will actually sell. For a start, there are far too many of them. Most will not find space on the bookshelves and in the review columns, and will remain unsold and unread.

Also, content is far less important than profile. Big announcements are made about new books from Chris Evans and Dan Brown. They will sell because they are by Chris Evans and Dan Brown. Somewhere among these bustling aisles could be the greatest book ever written but, unless it has a big name attached, those in attendance will bustle on by.

And then, of course, there are the many books on display that don’t deserve an audience – those that are ill-conceived or badly produced, and those with such a ridiculously niche appeal that you feel the author could have satisfied all potential demand by printing a single copy on an A4 desktop printer.

The entire output of one American publisher, who I won’t name, falls into this category. I’d spoken to him last year, and initially felt sorry for this old chap with his boxes of unsaleable cheaply-produced Sherlock Holmes rip-offs, until I found out he was a vanity publisher, charging authors to publish their work AND encouraging them to spend thousands of dollars travelling to London to needlessly attend the fair.

The LBF is best avoided by writers – unless they have the thickest of skins. The prospect of finding hundreds of publishers – plus numerous agents, distributors and other book industry bods – gathered together under one roof might seem tempting, but authors hoping to generate interest in their unpublished manuscript or self-published novel will almost certainly receive the shortest of shrift.

Stepping outside to enjoy the sunshine at lunch time I was approached by an author who was touting a frighteningly militant expose of the medical industry, a shoddily-produced self-published copy of which she brandished in front of me. Luckily I was able to defend myself with my press pass, explaining that I had no clout whatsoever within the industry.

Last year, while wearing a publisher’s pass, I had been accosted by an author selling a raunchy memoir of his time as a male stripper. I politely made my excuses, and he handed me his business card – which featured a colour photograph of his penis. I passed his details on to a colleague.

This year I was interested to see James Patterson signing copies of a book that he has not even written. His name is on the cover of 8th Confession, in HUGE LETTERS. Underneath, in much smaller type, it says “with Maxine Paetro”. Patterson came up with the plot, apparently (“Unconventional cop juggles personal problems while playing cat and mouse with inventively gruesome serial killer? Kerching!”). Paetro, who actually wrote the thing, was not at the signing session.

Tech-wise, aside from ebook stuff, of which there was lots, I was interested to take a look at the Espresso Book Machine, an on-demand book printer about the size of an office photocopier that produces individual paperback books at a speed of 100 pages per minute. The final quality was impressive – perhaps not quite as good as a well-produced paperback, but certainly good enough to suggest that this might represent the future of retailing backlist books. Blackwell’s are the first UK retailer to get onboard, and the chain’s first Espresso machine can be found at its Charing Cross store.

Grumble-wise, I wasn’t allowed to take photos inside the LBF for undetermined reasons, and for the second year running I left with no decent free stuff. Everyone else, it seemed, was leaving with cotton shoulder bags stuffed with proof edition blockbusters, promotional t-shirts and, for all I know, shiny new Sony Readers. I left with some unwanted flyers and a digitally-produced copy of the Koran.

Books, Technology London Book Fair