Super SuperKev
Super SuperKev
Super SuperKev …..
Super Kevin, er, Kilbane?
Well, there are Kevins and there are Kevins. Somehow, ending that chant with the word Kilbane doesn’t seem right.
Super SuperKev
Super SuperKev
Super SuperKev …..
Super Kevin, er, Kilbane?
Well, there are Kevins and there are Kevins. Somehow, ending that chant with the word Kilbane doesn’t seem right.
ROKERDAVE GOT IT – LIKE SALUT! SUNDERLAND – BY ACCIDENT. SEE COMMENTS …. Mark Walton at the Blackcats list couldn’t …
No one is quite sure what this is doing here. Has Salut! Sunderland taken leave of its senses? Has Rugby League taken over from football? Let Pete Sixsmith – who went back to Old Trafford one week on, and not to collect his personal copy of Sir Alex’s non-apology to Alan Wiley – explain …
Continuing the theme of Club v Country, I have to say that I couldn’t give a rat’s a*** about the “national team”. Ever since Sir Alf failed to take Monty to Mexico and various idiots refused to pick Kevin Phillips on a regular basis, I have absolutely zero interest in the Ingerland project.
Anything to fill in time on a football-free Saturday (meaningful football, that is).Colin Randall recalls a few of the musical pieces familiar to fans of Sunderland going back to the 1960s …
Samantha Marie Sprackling is the real name, Saffron the one she’s better known by. It probably won’t offend her to know Salut! Sunderland finds her pleasing on the eye and the ear.
The headline narrows it down a little. But Salut! Sunderland today launches a modest competition*, and only supporters for whom the Stadium of Light has always been our home ground can enter. You may be too young to have visited Roker Park. You may, for whatever reason, have started attending games only after the move to the Stadium of Light. Write about the SoL, what you like about it, what it means to you, the best and worst times you’ve had there, anything you dislike about it. Salut! Sunderland will publish the best entries AND award a first prize to the value to £100 (there may be runners-up awards depending on entries. Send them to colinrandall@hotmail.com … we’re looking for passion and imagination rather than a budding Hemingway or Hornby, but don’t be put off if you have genuine writing talent.
Let’s kick it off with the reminiscences of another old codger from the days before Roker Park was a private housing estate with silly street names evoking the grand old stadium. Jeremy Robsons piece explained why, for a Murton lad exiled in deepest Canada, Roker means so much to him that he cannot even bring himself on trips home to go near what has become of the place. It originally appeared a few months ago but will be new to many of our readers ….
It’s almost 12 years since we left Roker Park.
To this day I’ve never returned to the old site. I remember standing gazing around the wonderful old stadium for as long as the stewards would let us after the Everton game, in a feeble attempt to take in the magnitude of those last few moments in the place where we’d all spent so much of our lives, and where history was written, where reputations were won and lost, but most of all a place where millions of memories were generated amongst countless thousands of us. All different, all shared and yet all unique.
Remember the fans who appeared, with varying success, in the fly-on-the-wall television documentary, Premier Passions, which revealed in excruciatingly fine detail the behind-the-scenes goings on at Sunderland under Peter Reid?
From Martyn McFadden, editor of A Love Supreme, comes news of another project aimed at capturing the support of SAFC on film.
Midweek. Sunderland (proper) haven’t a game for a week and a half, butPete Sixsmith found banter, nosh and an entertaining game as the Reserves took on Man City at Hetton. The Blues won, but didn’t do all of the shining …
A damp Tuesday meant the local games on offer were perused very carefully for grounds with plenty of cover to shelter from the pouring rain.
However, by 5pm, the evening was dry, the temperature chilly but not unpleasant and the Sixsmith limo pointed in the direction of Eppleton CW and the Barclays Premier Reserve League clash: Sunderland versus Manchester City.
Time to wrap up the Club versus Country series. OK, Colin Randall was as excited as any kid when England beat Germany to win the 1966 World Cup. He’d be lying if he said no international achievement had given him pleasure, and no failure had caused disappointment, in the years that have passed since then. But the fact remains that for him – as for so many of the rival fans who answer the question when put by Salut! Sunderland – club, in his case Sunderland, comes first every time. Could the following description of the blight of hooliganism which affected the sport for so many years be part of the reason why? …
I wish I had a completely satisfactory answer to the question of why every Sunderland game matters so much while no England match matters in the same way. Believe it or not, I actually envy the Scots, Irish and Welsh fans who so fervently support their national sides.
Fans of other countries show impressive national loyalty, too. I remember finding myself among a trainload of Dutch fans on their way from the central station in Amsterdam to a Euro 2000 game. The carriage was a sea of orange and seemed to be rocking. It was impossible not to be struck by the depth of devotion. Despite being an ordinarily patriotic Englishman, I simply cannot summon the same emotional attachment.
Continuing his story of an unequal contest between passion for club and, when it comes to football, loyalty to country, Colin Randall describes the lengths he’s prepared to go to in order to keep up with Sunderland, and not just the first team. One bonus from caring little about internationals: the row over lack of TV coverage of Ukraine vs England has simply passed him by …
The upshot of the severe culture clash between football-mad or, more accurately, SAFC-mad husband and football-loathing partner is that throughout my marriage I have had to organise games around family duties and wifely expectations as well as work.
She’d tell you I have been to endless matches; I’d tell you about all those I’ve missed.