It’s not easy to criticise a club legend. Steve Gibson is Middlesbrough Football Club.
His name is stitched into the fabric of the Riverside. But the question that more and more Boro fans are starting to ask—often with reluctance, but increasing regularity—is this: is it time for him to go?
The issue isn’t about legacy. Gibson will always be the man who saved the club, the chairman who guided them to the Premier League, delivered a UEFA Cup final, and stood by them through highs and lows. But football doesn’t wait for sentiment. And right now, the sense of drift surrounding the club is impossible to ignore.
The Price of Loyalty
Let’s start with the ticket prices—an open wound among the fanbase. Middlesbrough is located in a region with one of the lowest average incomes in the UK. Yet season ticket prices are among the highest in the Championship. For the 2025/26 campaign, a general adult ticket is reportedly £620—the most expensive in the division. That’s £134 more than Sunderland’s cheapest season ticket, and more than what fans of promoted Burnley paid last season.
Even more galling is that some Premier League clubs offer cheaper options. At a time when fans are being asked to pay more while seeing less on the pitch, the optics are appalling. Early bird renewals may have remained frozen, but for new buyers—or lapsed ones hoping to return—the barrier is steep.
The frustration isn’t just financial. Many supporters feel shut out of the club’s decision-making process. Communication from the boardroom is rare, and when it comes, it’s often vague or dismissive. There was a Q&A last year, but the perception remains that the hierarchy—Gibson included—are out of touch with the people who fill the stands.
Declining Influence, Diminishing Returns
On the pitch, the club feels stuck. Post-McClaren managerial appointments have, in the main, disappointed. There’s no coherent long-term vision—only short bursts of ambition followed by mediocrity. Director of Football Kieran Scott was supposed to be a sign of change, but progress has been sluggish. The squad, as it stands, is widely viewed by fans as mid-table at best. Talk of losing players like Hayden Hackney and Finn Azaz only deepens that anxiety.
Then there’s the academy—long a point of pride for Boro. Yet even that is now under threat, with promising youngsters reportedly choosing Premier League academies instead. Can you really blame them when Manchester City or Chelsea offer more money, better facilities, and a clearer route to elite football?
Fans have watched the likes of Bournemouth, Brighton, Brentford, and Burnley overtake us. Clubs once seen as below us are now thriving in the Premier League while we remain a Championship side flirting with stagnation. And as others invest smartly and grow sustainably, Boro appear to be treading water under a chairman who no longer seems to have the means—or perhaps the will—to compete.
Be Careful What You Wish For?
Still, there is an important counterpoint. As some have rightly pointed out, changing owners doesn’t guarantee success. The EFL is littered with examples of clubs who chased a new dawn and ended up in darkness: Derby, Sheffield Wednesday, Reading. For every Brentford, there’s a Birmingham; for every Wrexham fairytale, a Wigan collapse.
Gibson may have made mistakes—some of them costly—but he has always kept the club financially stable. He’s never loaded them with debt. He doesn’t treat the club like a plaything or a cash machine. And if he does eventually step down, there’s no guarantee his successor would do the same.
But that’s the bind Boro are in. They’re no longer progressing, and standing still in modern football is effectively going backwards. Loyalty has brought stability, but it has also bred inertia. Some believe the time is right for a fresh face, a new vision, and an owner who reflects the ambition of a club that should not be 17th in the all-time league table and playing second-tier football for 20 out of 24 years.
Others argue that Gibson deserves the chance to roll the dice one last time. That this summer’s rebuild—if executed well—could finally get us back on track.
But what if it doesn’t? What if the 2025/26 season ends like so many before it—in mid-table obscurity, rising costs, and growing resentment?
Because here’s the hard truth: at some point, all legacies reach their expiry date. And for Steve Gibson, the uncomfortable question isn’t whether he’s been a great chairman. It’s whether he still can be.
And right now, more and more Boro fans are no longer sure of the answer.
