Comebacks have always been an irresistible part of the wider football narrative, so it’s no surprise that Newcastle have been turning a lot of heads this season. Two and a half years after being relegated from the Premier League in a storm of negativity, the Toon are not only back in the top flight but, astonishingly, on course for the club’s highest finish since 2004.

As turnarounds go it has been nothing short of miraculous, especially when you consider that such lightning progress has been achieved in spite of significant fan unrest, a change of manager and a net profit of almost £40 million on transfers.

Now a club which still remembers fondly the days of title challenges under Kevin Keegan and Champions League nights with Bobby Robson is defying reduced financial circumstances to enjoy an Indian summer back among the Premier League big boys, and its followers have a new set of heroes worthy of their adulation.

Alan Pardew, having overcome misgivings at his appointment by taking Newcastle to unexpected heights, now hears his name chanted from the stands. Demba Ba, the club’s top scorer, has also won over the crowd with clinical finishing and tireless work rate. Cheik Tiote, too, has been adopted for his sheer physicality and passion for the cause.

But when the Toon Army are singing, the name ‘Mike Ashley’ is conspicuous only by its absence. For while the painful memories of relegation may have dimmed in the light of recent successes, Newcastle’s much-maligned owner has yet to be forgiven for the role he played in bringing about one of the club’s darkest days.

It is hard to argue against the view that, for the first two years of his reign, Ashley effectively provided a free masterclass in how not to run a football club.

His first mistake – and arguably his biggest – was the failure to do the required due diligence which would have made him aware of the full extent of Newcastle’s debts prior to his purchase in June 2007, believed to be around £100 million.

The sacking of Sam Allardyce was also misguided, but even more ill-advised was the brazen attempt to win over the fans by tempting Keegan out of a three-year self-imposed exile from the game to succeed him.

The Toon legend was never likely to tolerate the more continental scouting structure and strict financial controls which were also being implemented by Ashley and, when he walked out of St James’ Park eight months later complaining of interference, the owner’s popularity went with him.

One final heart-over-head gamble was taken with the brief appointment of all-time record goalscorer Alan Shearer, and Newcastle paid for it with their Premier League status.

If you try to please everyone, you end up pleasing no one. After abandoning the idea of selling up and taking what was left of his battered reputation elsewhere, this appears to have been the conclusion Ashley reached, for it is the mantra to which he has stuck ever since.

Relegation meant humiliation but it also offered the possibility of a fresh start and, this time, Ashley was determined to do things his way, regardless of the criticism he might receive.

Under the new regime, established stars on huge wages have become a thing of the past. Whether domestic talents or underrated foreign imports, their replacements are invariably younger, cheaper, hungrier footballers.

The notion of an all-powerful manager has also been dismissed in favour of something more resembling a head coach, under strict instructions to work with the resources at his disposal. What has emerged is a more vibrant, more cohesive and, most importantly, more successful football club.

At every stage, Ashley has shown a willingness to take risks and make unpopular decisions. The replacement of Chris Hughton with Pardew in December 2010 as Newcastle lay comfortably mid-table in the Premier League was initially incomprehensible but, while admittedly ruthless, it has been utterly vindicated by the success which has followed.

The sale of local hero Andy Carroll to Liverpool for £35 million appeared a ludicrously brilliant piece of business at the time despite fan hostility, and it looks even better with every match that replacement Ba continues to make a mockery of Stoke’s medical department.

Many shook their heads in disbelief when club captain Kevin Nolan and Twitter-botherer Joey Barton were jettisoned last summer, but Newcastle now enjoy a more united dressing room, lower wage bill and, in Tiote and Yohan Cabaye, also boast one of the best central midfield partnerships in the land.

Pardew and his players have rightly received credit for the club’s revival, and some more insightful observers have also identified chief scout Graham Carr as worthy of praise. By contrast, the acclaim directed at Ashley by the Toon faithful has been grudging at best, yet the resurgence they celebrate could not have occurred without him.

Sadly, the relationship between the Newcastle fans and their owner remains one of necessity rather than genuine affection and, after everything which has happened, it might be too much to hope for any improvement.

But if this particular comeback story turns out to have a few more spectacular chapters left, Mike Ashley might finally get his share of the credit.