An expectant crowd greeted their new Chairman and Directors like conquering heroes on Sunday afternoon, but it was Spurs who were then granted the freedom of a sold-out St. James' Park.

The atmosphere on Tyneside may have been transformed by the welcome departure of Mike Ashley ten days previously, but at kick-off time much else remained unchanged.

The unsightly sports shop advertising remained in situ and the misfiring squad was of course the same, although boosted by the return of Callum Wilson; Jamaal Lascelles and Jonjo Shelvey also available.

And to the surprise of many, Steve Bruce survived to spend his 1,000th game in familiar pose; looking on helplessly as another disaster unfolded.

Like Lee Charnley (not visible today but still in post), these things should be temporary, but the rapid turn of events catapulted in a new administration who appear to be formulating policy on the hoof.

And while they may have theoretical access to unprecedented resources, what they currently lack is experience in running a Premier League club - not unlike the early days of the Ashley regime in 2007, with Chris Mort etc. Back then the club was run from Shirebrook, now it's Riyadh.

What was required today was substance behind the hype and criticism in the form of three points to provide a foothold in this season. And for five fleeting minutes that scenario seemed possible; Spurs rocked back by a United front on and off the field seldom seen, but never forgotten once witnessed. There was literally nowhere else on the planet you'd rather at that point in time; the ground was alive again - fourteen years of frustration banished in a collective roar.

Kevin Keegan once claimed that the Gallowgate sucked in his debut goal - today they blew Wilson's effort home at the opposite end of the ground for the most unbelievable of dream starts.

All too quickly though, that mirage faded and a visiting side supposedly in crisis for much of this season merely recalibrated and waited for Hurricane Geordie to be downgraded to a breeze. It didn't take long.

Successfully finding space and increasing their possession as a chasm began to open up between the home defence and attack, the first Spurs goal was scored with great technique but embarrassing ease.

A second soon followed - aided by technology - and the home crossbar was still recovering after Lucas Moura's header hit it when events unfolding in the stands began to overtake those on the field.

It became distressingly clear that increased activity near the front of the East Stand towards the Gallowgate End was due to a medical emergency; several bystanders visibly carrying out CPR on what was confirmed to be an elderly male supporter who had gone into cardiac arrest.

It seemed to take an age for uniformed medics to arrive, but qualified staff attending as fans had already crucially intervened. Play continued until the 41st minute, when players alerted referee Marriner, who suspended play before going to the East Stand to speak with stewards and police.

As play was stopped, Eric Dier ran to the home dugout gesturing for assistance, prompting the United club Doctor to run across the pitch to the incident with a defibrillator - although it was subsequently confirmed that St John's Ambulance staff had already deployed one to good effect.  

Thankfully the spectator was stabilised and hospitalised, with the fans whose actions proved so vital applauded as they sat back down - punctuating what had an eerie silence, in complete contrast to the din before kick-off.

The game restarted after a 25 minute break when the players returned to the field from the dressing rooms; the re-organisation attempted by Graeme Jones proving futile when Spurs waltzed through the defence for a third.

1-3 at half-time and the chance to regroup during the interval, or at least try to pose Spurs some problems and keep the score down. To that end an unchanged side meandered through until the hour mark when Jonjo Shelvey appeared. The visitors meanwhile didn't bother making any personnel changes and gradually ebbed away as an attacking force. They may have learnt what the Portuguese for 'looking a gift horse in the mouth' is from their exasperated coach on the way home.

Missing since the opening day of the season, Shelvey contrived to last for just 18 minutes: booked for lashing out and then receiving a second yellow for a ridiculous last-ditch challenge. He's taking something, and it isn't one for the team.....

There was improbable late drama thanks to Eric Dier's spectacularly bad own goal, but the five or so minutes - four added - never remotely looked like conjuring up an equaliser. Had we got in their half that might have helped.

A point may have been salvaged at Spurs last season in the most unlikely of circumstances, but deprived of Andy Carroll's nuisance value, by then United were playing without a recognised striker or any sort of game plan and the calls to remove Bruce grew louder from those still in their seats.

The records show that we lost this game by the odd goal in five, but that bears no resemblance to the pattern of the play; Newcastle beaten out of sight for the first time this season, played off the park for the first time the thumping at Brighton in March. Diminishing returns, and then some.

Decisions need to be made over him and made quickly. The hoped-for grace period that he no doubt promised to bring is an illusion; there is no firm hand on the tiller. It may make sense to retain other figures from the previous administration as so much needs doing, but not him - meaning that there needs to be a semblance of a plan put in place, and bloody quickly. This season is ebbing away. Fast.

A poor start then to the hoped-for new era on Tyneside, but for a few hours before kick-off and the first few minutes of play, the new owners experienced first-hand the fervour and potential of this place.

Better times lie ahead, but we have to hang on to what we've got, learn the lesson of 2015/16 and make that change now. "Ain't no doubt, it's plain to see" as Jimmy Nail would say.

Niall/Biffa

 

A new era at SJP: six year old Harry Readman
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