Colin Randall

After our spoof apology the other day, Pete Sixsmith thinks another is due. To him, for any suggestion that he may have gone over the top in his earlier criticisms of Sunderland preparations and performances

In my life, I can think of many things that I should apologise for. Yes, Mr Newby, it was me and not Dennis Robinson who trampled on your flowers while trying to retrieve a ball that had been hit into your garden.

And yes, Mr Weatherley, Head Master of Bishop Auckland Grammar School, it was me who brought shame on the old alma mater by writing SAFC in the dust on the boot of Don Revie’s Ford Zodiac when he came to sign Peter Hampton.

But I don’t think I should apologise for what I believe has been constructive criticism of our approach to the season.

A trawl through Sixer’s Sevens and Soapboxes has shown that I have been consistently concerned about the lack of genuine quality in the team. Obviously, Roy reads these notes and he went out in January and dealt with this by signing Evans, Bardsley and particularly Reid who have played a major part in turning our season around.

Secondly, one of my earlier criticisms, voiced after the defeat at Upton Park, was that we do not take the game to our opponents by playing with only one forward. What did we do at Villa and Fulham? Did it work? I rest my case.

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There have been some mightily important clashes between Sunderland and Man City (the 1973 FA Cup sixth round, a relegation clincher and the first league game at the SoL spring to mind straight away). Preparing to entertain City this weekend, we found one fan, Craig McGinty*, with a foot in both camps.
Craig, something of a web wizard who has been responsible for much that is good about the various Salut! sites, is a passionate lifelong City fan. But three years in Sunderland as a student established SAFC firmly as his second team. Read what he thinks of the men associated with both – big Niall, Dave Watson. Stephen Elliott, Craig Russell and others – and his thoughts on the less Mancunian of his city’s clubs

Now I know you are not meant to follow two football teams if you are a real fan, but Sunderland’s result is seriously the second I look for after Manchester City’s.

The reason for this is having spent three years at Sunderland Polytechnic between 1988 and 1991, and spending what little grant and money I earned in the summer on watching games at Roker Park.

Football has been an important part of my life since wearing Sky Blue booties as a babe in arms, and having had a junior season ticket for Maine Road throughout most of the 1980s I knew I had to have my fill of footballing action when arriving in Sunderland a few days before term opened.

Fortunately I was not alone, as many of the friends I made in the student accommodation at Williamson Hall in my first year were keen to watch Sunderland play whatever the weather.

Preparations for the game would start on the Friday night in Rascals nightclub as we arranged to meet up next day, usually in the Tap and Spile in Hendon.

Friday night’s excesses were seen off with a large stottie covered in eggs, beans and bacon, before a quick pint in the Tap, a walk through town, over the bridge, bearing right at the traffic lights and picking up a Roker Review at the same programme seller each time.

We usually stood in the Clockstand paddock, although I remember getting a drowning in a game against Arsenal where I was stood in the corner beneath the scoreboard.

And please don’t mention a midweek game against Wimbledon where we froze to death on the Roker End – the highlight of the match was a shot that whistled over the corner of crossbar and post.

The only time I remember seeing City play at Roker Park was in my first year at the Poly. It was the time of inflatable bananas, and again it was a night game which City won 4-2; we all thought promotion from Division 2 was a certainty, but a stumbling run-in meant we needed a point in the last game of the season.

An equalising goal by Trevor Morley away at Bradford, saw me running down the corridor of Williamson Hall waving my banana like a fool.

But by far my most vivid memory of a game at Roker Park has to be the first leg of the promotion play-off semi-final against Newcastle in 1990.

The demand for tickets was massive and somehow me and a pal were able to get into the Fulwell End. I think it was the first time I had been in that end of the ground.

Remembering the atmosphere both before and during the game still makes a tingle run up and down my spine. When the match kicked off, the roar was ear splitting; I just don’t think you get that sort of noise nowadays.

As we all know the game wasn’t great, and I still shake my head at Hardyman’s attempt to kick John Burridge’s head off his shoulders after the last minute penalty save – but it’s those sort of things that make you smile and I know I am preaching to the converted.

And now for your questions…….

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**** SUNDERLAND AFC: an apology ****
In common with “Marty E”, Pete Horan, Colin Randall and thousands of other SAFC fans, Pete Sixsmith may have given the impression that he believed he had pledged his allegiance to a team of honest no-hopers led by a tactically clueless Corkman and bound inexorably for yet another relegation. Pete wishes it to be known that this was a wholly erroneous interpretation of his remarks in Soapbox, Sixer’s Sevens and the East Stand, and that he meant only to recite the mantra: “Keano is God, the Lads are sublime, Sunderland are on their way.”

What a turn up for the book! Who would have thought after successive home defeats that we would go on and win the next three? I didn’t. Looking back to my musings on the Chelsea game, the doom and gloom is there for all to see. So why the change?

Of the three games we have won, one was against opposition in the middle of a sticky patch, one was against opponents who performed well and one was against Fulham.

Fulham are definitely going down. They looked like a side who have stopped believing in themselves and their manager, and they pressed the self-destruct button on a regular basis on Saturday.

We did all that we had to, and Roy’s assessment that we were “bad, bad, bad” was a little harsh. However, they missed a good chance before Collins scored the first of his two goals when McBride took a step off Nyron and planted a header into the arms of a grateful Gordon.

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Hayley Penman – click on the images to enlarge – is starting young. And what better time and place to do so than the Stadium of Light on a day that we secure a crucial last-second win over West Ham? Her dad John, an occasional Salut! Sunderland contributor, takes up the story

Her father had followed the team for 35 years and now Hayley, at the age of three, was to experience the magic of Sunderland FC for the first time, against West Ham.

Things had changed from her dad’s first game on a bitterly cold day in Feb 1982 when Notts County came visiting Roker Park.

It would also be Hayley’s first train journey which would only add to the excitement of the day. Tickets for the third row from the front of the East stand were purchased and her strip was laid out, ready to be worn for her first Black Cats game. Hayley, I should explain, knows Sunderland only as the Black Cats since she can’t get her tongue round the word Sunderland and even struggles to call them ‘Sunlun’.

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How do you get Boris Johnson, the Duke of Edinburgh, Tommy Trinder and camel beauty pageants into the same posting to a football website? By getting Pete Sixsmith to preview Fulham v Sunderland, that’s how

A big weekend looms. End of school term on Friday (two weeks holiday – mmmmm…..), Grand National on Saturday and a chance to claim three Premier League points in London for the first time since Stamford Bridge in 2001. But it could be a sad weekend for me as it could well be my last visit to the Great Wen until 2012.

Yes, comrade readers. I am ready to abandon future trips to the Emirates, White Hart Lane et al if the citizens of our beloved capital are pathologically stupid enough to elect Boris Johnson as Mayor.

I have watched the London Mayoral Election from my eyrie in the far North Country and find it impossible to believe that any one could possibly vote for a middle class, bouffanted, grinning clown like Boris. We in the North are not taken in by his ilk. For instance, could you imagine the electors of, say Sedgefield (a constituency which includes such congenial spots as West Cornforth, Deaf Hill and Ferryhill Station) electing someone like that as their MP? Of course not.

So, the election of the idiotic Boris – a man once described by a friend as being neither as nice or as stupid as he makes out – may well mean a self-imposed exile on future capital gains.

But not yet. Craven Cottage beckons with all the genuine pleasures that go with a visit there. The Spotted Horse in Putney High Street used to be a cracking pub in the 70s and 80s. I remember having a couple of pints in there the day that Alan Mullery scored the finest own goal in living memory. I also saw George Best turn in a wonderful performance in his later days, and the memory of Liam Lawrence’s stunner a couple of years ago is still relatively fresh in the old memory box.

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As I flicked through the pages of Banter & Bustle, Jeff Scott’s fascinating pictorial study of his fellow Sunderland fans and Sunderland locations, caught on camera on various matchdays around the country, I began thinking about Real Football Clubs. And that in turn led me to reflect on Pete Sixsmith’s Soapbox remarks about West Ham being one of them.

When Gordon Thrower** contributed his excellent posting for the Who Are They? series last week, his fellow Hammers fans’ response was astonishing. They flocked here in their hundreds, boosting the average daily number of visits to such an extent that Salut! Sunderland enjoyed a few days in the top 75 of the Soccerlinks hit list for football websites.

This week, things are getting back to normal. Fulham fans, it is fair to say without being too harsh, have seen no reason to emulate their east London rivals. Steve Battams’s article was also interesting, all the more so because he’s played at a decent level himself. And his video clip showing him heading the ball back on to the field from the crowd raises a laugh. But if there has been a trickle of Cottagers coming this way, that is so far about it.

Yet Fulham, unlike their charmless neighbours and whatever view is taken of their ownership, have always seemed a proper football club. Like Sunderland. So it is a shame to have to be reminded that they are essentially a very small club indeed.

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Fulham represent the schizophrenic wing of English football: traditional club, nicer by a mile of the two in the same corner of west London, but tainted by the stigma of bought success. But whatever the result when we meet them on Saturday, has their luck finally run out? Despite all that Fayed money, are they bound for the Championship? Perhaps they could do with some of the defensive skills Steve Battams, a staunch Cottager if that doesn’t suggest improper activities, brought to Staines Town, Ashford Town and Carshalton Athletic during a useful (550 games) semi-pro career

Although I am a Fulham fan through and through, you could say that Sunderland played a big part in my addiction to the beautiful game.

One of the first matches I recall was watching the League Cup final of 1985 when Sunderland met Norwich at Wembley. I recall the magnificent twin towers and the thousands packed on to the terraces and was instantly hooked.

Sadly, I also recall Clive Walker dragging his penalty on to the post and a deflected goal winning the cup for the Canaries. That is where my first Sunderland-Fulham link comes in, as Clive Walker was one of the few shining lights for Fulham when he signed for us in 1987. In total he made 109 appearances for the Cottagers, scoring 29 goals – many of which came from his deadly left foot which I am sure Sunderland fans will remember well.

My next recollection of a Sunderland/Fulham match was a League Cup tie at Craven Cottage in 1989. The Gabbiadini-Gates partnership was in full flow at the time and you comfortably ran out 3-0 winners.

Possibly one of the worst goal celebrations came from Eric Gates as he attempted some form of somersault and ended up flat on his back laughing at himself.

Sadly, I do not have many other recollections of matches against the two teams. However, my brother Alan ventured north for the Premiership clash in April 2006. Our quest to set further records in failing to win away matches looked in serious danger as Brian McBride put us ahead in the ninth minute. The weather took a turn for the worse and the match was abandoned, leaving you guys subsequently to record your only home win when the match was replayed in May.

That’s typical of Fulham; we are very generous when it comes to players recording their first goals for their clubs or teams getting their only/first wins for lengthy periods of time. Hence our appalling away record which will eventually lead to relegation this season!

Since then, I have moved to Abu Dhabi in the United Arab Emirates where we are fortunate enough to get every Premier League match live on a Saturday afternoon. I will definitely be watching the game this coming Saturday, probably in the local sports bar with a cold beer and prayer or two for our survival in the best league in the world.

And now for your questions (pausing only for a quick view of the aerial strength that served me well in my Ryman Premier League career) …….

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Way up high/There’s a land that I heard of/Once in a lullaby……..well perhaps the something Judy Garland had in mind wasn’t 13th top for a day. The humiliation of Spurs by the Mags may have knocked us back a place, but that cannot dampen the spirits of Pete Sixsmith, who also has rare praise for a referee and the away end

As we drove away from the Stadium of Light on Saturday evening, a huge rainbow materialised, stretching over both sides of Newcastle Road.

One end of it seemed to be planted in what used to be Roker Park while the other was most definitely attached to the exact spot where Andy Reid had hit that stunning volley in the fifth minute of time added on for West Ham whingeing and generally being southern softies.

The scenes inside the Stadium were tremendous. We all knew how important that goal was and when the announcer told us that Arsenal had hit a late winner at Bolton, our joy was unconfined. The talk on the way down the stairs was that we may not be the most stylish team in the division and we may have some flaws, but there is no side, squad or club with a bigger heart.

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HOW THE BOTTOM HALF LOOKS THIS MORNING…….. above the Mags and third top, a lofty position that lasted until Spurs rolled over for Keegan
1 Tottenham 31 8 3 4 43 26 2 6 8 17 25 9 39
2 Middlesbrough 31 5 4 6 15 19 3 6 7 13 25 -16 34
3 Sunderland 32 8 3 5 19 16 1 3 12 10 33 -20 33
4 Reading 32 8 2 7 19 22 1 3 11 18 36 -21 32
5 Newcastle 31 6 5 5 20 24 2 3 10 13 33 -24 32
6 Wigan 32 7 3 5 18 14 1 4 12 10 33 -19 31
7 Birmingham 32 5 6 5 23 19 2 3 11 15 30 -11 30

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8 Bolton 32 5 5 7 20 18 1 3 11 10 30 -18 26
9 Fulham 32 4 5 7 19 26 0 7 9 10 27 -24 24
10 Derby 32 1 5 10 10 27 0 3 13 6 40 -51 11

So what has Arabia got to do with Sunderland’s heartstopping second win on the trot? It’s just one of the places you could get to see the game live, thanks to the reach of televised Premier League football. Read on for the view from Abu Dhabi of events at the SoL

So Craig Gordon and Andy Reid shaved a million or two off their transfer fees, an opposing team for once failed to bring their own referee (that was sheer incompetence, Mr Curbishley; the device has worked brilliantly for others this season) and we end up with three utterly magical points.

After our initial flurry, West Ham grew in confidence, dominated midfield and carved out good chances. To no great surprise, they scored.

But that was the spur for one of our most invigorating team performances in memory. It was a pulsating encounter, and we did more than enough in the latter stages of the first half and throughout the second to emerge, beyond serious question, deserving winners. Even if we did leave it to the 22nd minute of time added on.

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