Newy tears! There have been a lot shed in recent days. Joey Johns was showing them on Channel Nine on Sunday. Brother Matty was wiping them away on Fox Sports. They were flowing for Captain Kayln as Sandon Smith scored in the final minute to seal the Knight’s historic, underdog preliminary final victory. My son, fortunate enough to be at the game, had them in his eyes as Knights fans hugged each other in the stands. And on my post-match social media feed, a fan, who probably should have kept his Knights jersey on, showed his large girth to the world as he danced, hugged and cried with a mate a top of a bar table. Novocastrians know what was happening in that special Sunday evening moment. We were all shedding Newy tears!

My kids ran into the lounge room to see what all the commotion was as I shouted and danced with delight as Smith scored his second try. For the ten minutes before I was preparing myself for a late Panthers try. “They always come back”, I was telling myself, and how much longer could the gutsy 12 hold on against 13. Surely the Panthers were going to cruel the fairytale continuing. And then, the Smith intercept. I was out of my seat. Like thousands of other Novocastrians, I was running to the try line with the Knights number 7, every step of the way.

As the siren sounded the Newy tears flowed!

I remember a mate diving across the lounge room to hug me as we both shed Newy tears in 1997, as Darren Albert crossed the try line for the Knights’ first grand final win. I remember sitting in a hire car in Hobart, listening to the 2001 grand final on the radio, wiping away Newy tears as the Knights won their second premiership. And now, bring on another big dance this Sunday – a long-time coming, and very unexpected after being wooden spooners last year. This week will be a special one in Newcastle, and so many in my hometown will be hoping for one final chapter in the fairytale story of 2026.

Newy tears aren’t reserved for footy victories, or for wins that matter.

I shed them as a young journo, walking the deserted streets of Newcastle, post the unexpected December 1989 earthquake. I saw them on the faces of hardened journos, police officers, emergency service workers and civic leaders as we looked on at the collapsed Newcastle Workers Club. There were tears for all the losses the December 28 earthquake brought, but also many tears for the courage, grit, resilience and fighting spirit of a city that would fight back and be transformed.

Fighting spirit and Newy tears go hand in hand. And yes, this special, unifying spirit is not Newcastle’s alone, but there is something innate in the Novocastrian spirit and history that is hard to explain. But locals get it. They feel it. They live it!

I love living in Melbourne and after a decade of being here this city certainly feels like home. But you can’t take Newy out of a Newy boy and I have been reminded of this special local spirit again over the past month as the lads in blue, red and white have played with such dare and desperation.

I remember shedding Newy tears in September 1999 as the gates of the Newcastle steelworks were closed for the last time. My grandfather worked for 50 years, from age 15 to 65 in the steelworks’ blast furnace. I can’t fathom it, turning up as he did in such a tough environment for five decades. But he loved the place and the people he worked with. My dad clocked on at the steelworks as an 18-year-old, while studying metallurgy part-time at university. He took a “golden handshake” 37 years later, again having been in the one job all his working life.

When it was announced that the steelworks would close, the doomsday prophets said Newcastle would not survive. “This would be the end of the steel city” they declared. And 1999 came quickly, as the final workers clocked off. I still have newspaper clippings from the day, as people from across our city hugged and wept Newy tears. This was the end of the steelmaking era, but the beginning of a new, transformative chapter for the town, even though the footy commentators continue to refer to the Knights hailing from “steel town”.

On the day of the Newcastle quake, when we still didn’t know what had happened, I was in a car with The Herald’s chief photographer, heading to the steelworks as word spread “that BHP has blown up”. It hadn’t, but I still recall sitting in the car with my seasoned colleague as we both wiped tears away outside the steelworks gate. Tears of relief, tears of uncertainty. Newy tears!

One of my favourite things to do when I am in Newcastle is go for a run from the harbour to Merewether Baths. The run highlights the physical transformation of the city, and as I run my mind always takes me back to special memories of growing up there. Of school holiday visits to the city with my grandmother for a movie at “The Strand” and lunch at the Coles cafeteria. Of Christmas visits to Dixon Park Beach with my cousins and back for the traditional hose off in my grandparents’ back yard in The Junction. Of seeing my own kids grow and move from splashing on the shore to heading out the back to big waves. And, as I run this strip I am reminded of how the sand and salt water of this magical coastline has also been a place of solace and therapy for me in dark, challenging and grieving seasons of life. Here I have cried Newy tears!

Like so many in Newcastle – and those who still breathe Newy in their soul – I am hoping for one more underdog win this Sunday. But whatever the result, I know I will be shedding Newy tears because the unexpected 2026 Knights’ run is about more than football. It’s about people of all walks of life coming together and celebrating the heart and soul of this special place. It’s about a city that knows struggle, heartache and setbacks, but with grit and courage keeps fighting back. It’s about a city that can still at times feel inferior or neglected compared to Sydney and other big cities, and yet here is a place with possibly an unmatched capacity to pull together with care, compassion and a unifying community spirit.

So, when the Knights run out on Sunday two things will happen simultaneously. Yes, Novocastrians will be hoping for an historic Grand Final victory against the team from Sydney’s eastern suburbs. But a one-team town will celebrate far more than a footy team coming from wooden spooners to grand finalists. We will shed Newy tears and thank the team for reminding us again of the deeper and more important things that pull people together in “our town” – wherever we are around the world. We will celebrate the spirit of this special place