What was that much-missed SAFC fanzine? It’s The Hope I Can’t Stand. Well, we’ve hope again and our mysterious Birflatt Boy isn’t sure he wants it either. Can’t we, he asks, just return to the familiar, downtrodden days of yore …
Well we are certainly on a canny run, aren’t we?
The Christmas lights are going up and we’ve only lost twice. It’s such a shame that the second defeat was at the hands of that lot from up the road.
We are almost knocking on the door for European qualification, if you believe the optimists. Who’d have thought anyone could say that with credibility, at the start of this season.
Strange to say it, but the constant emotional roller coaster ride which has endured the entire lifetime of most Sunderland supporters, is something that I’m starting to miss.
It’s great of course to go to Stamford Bridge and stuff them, and our home record is something we can be justifiably proud.
Having said all that, don’t you think it’s boring? Don’t get me wrong. I’m not yearning for the days when our midfield consisted of Armstrong and Owers, or when the phrase strike force, for us, meant Warren Hawke, Tom Ritchie, or even worse, Ian Wallace.
I’m just starting to think that this mid table mediocrity lark isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be. I suppose I’m just missing the drama now that we’ve become respected opposition to the Premier League’s big guns. I never thought I’d actually miss the tension of a relegation dog fight or a promotion push, but I’m rather ashamed to say that I do.
There’s nothing quite like it to get the pulse racing.