The Observer came calling again. Here is Pete Sixsmith‘s verdict, preceded by a Blackpool fan’s thoughts … John Woodman, AVFTT.co.uk …
No “Dear Colin” or any other salutation in the latest post-match missive from Steve Bruce, but his team got the result we wanted so all is forgiven …
Starting with today’s visit to Bloomfield Road, where Kieran Richardson’s first-half goals had our fans chanting “who the f— is …
It required a hasty rewriting of Salut! Sunderland‘s rulebook, and comes a little late.
But the latest of our equivalent of the manager-of-the month awards – the Who are You? volunteer for December – goes to Jimmy Armfield, Blackpool legend and one of football’s most revered figures.
Following his tales of Blackpool trips in the 60s and 70s (read them here), Pete Sixsmith concludes his memories of visits to that cauldron of football, Bloomfield Road …
Our last visit was in October 1987 on a cold and windy day where there were no wrecks and nobody drowning, in fact nothing to laugh at at all.
As in 1964, I travelled on the Shildon bus, now run by George Michael Thompson. We met the Horan family in the town and my brother and his then wife travelled up from Southport, Blackpool’s snooty neighbour.
>
Time to stop worrying about failing to beat the Mags and losing Darren Bent? The season resumes and there’s a lot of work our players need to do between now and May. Cast your minds back to last May, though. When Blackpool faced Cardiff in the Wembley playoffs, Salut! Sunderland supported the Tangerines, partly for the romance of it and partly because of two men: Jimmy Armfield, for obvious reasons, and an old pal from Belfast, the writer, broadcaster and (see footnote) occasional lyricist Neil Johnston*, who has always supported them. Jimmy did the first Who are You? – a gem: click here to see it. Now Neil, a respected figure in Irish music and deeply involved in the annual Ballyshannon Folk Festival, does the honours before the return game at Bloomfield Road, which his affinity is necessarily a distant emotion …
Salut! Sunderland: Success story of the Premier’s promoted clubs – or a Hull city disaster waiting to happen – can Blackpool keep going without a calamitous collapse in the second half of the season?
I think they can stay up providing they don’t lose key players like Charlie Adam and DJ Campbell. But their tendency to concede late goals is a worry (NB: question posed and answered before any dealings in the transfer market – ed).
First things first: a great round of applause for Joan Dawson who, with typically excellent contributions from Pete Sixsmith and Jeremy Robson, not merely kept Salut! Sunderland ticking over while I’ve been swanning around Malaysia but edited the site in such accomplished fashion that she risks being given the job full-time. Secondly, did I miss anything in my absence? …
How was I to know that once my back was turned we’d gain David Miliband and lose Darren Bent? Not to mention a bitterly disappointing performance against Newcastle. Let us hope for DM’s sake that he is not being judged on early results.
News travels fast enough to ensure that I was not allowed to escape knowledge of these events. In fact, Salut! Sunderland having its sources, I knew in Penang of the Milliband appointment some time before it became public in the UK; the Bent bombshell reached me as a nasty little one-liner along the bottom of the screen on BBC World.
Flying back to the UK today, I kept a pinch of salt handy as I read Bent’s press conference bleatings, especially the bits about how brilliant our fans had been towards him and how sad he was that it had ended like this. I also read without the least enthusiasm the crop of names mooted as possible replacements.
Maybe no one in football owes a jot of loyalty to anyone else these days. Players and managers get precious little from clubs so why should they give any to the clubs? And we all try to better ourselves in life, whatever we do to earn a crust.
As the hoo hah dies down after the derby game and Darren Bent’s move to the Midlands, we have a very important game at Blackpool on Saturday. Our current form is not brilliant; since two hard fought consecutive wins, we have crashed out of the cup and almost allowed the Mags to claim undisputable bragging rights for the rest of the season So, let’s wallow in a little bit of nostalgia as Pete Sixsmith reminisces about three visits to the seaside town that is noted for fresh air and fun, one in the 60s, one in the 70s and – to follow later in the week – one in the 80s.
My first visit to Bloomfield Road was in September 1964 in a proper First Division game. I was 13, Colin was 15 and he played a major part in persuading my reluctant father that I be allowed to go to the game on Billy Reilly’s bus. Colin convinced him that we would be ok and that no drinking would take place on the Central Coaches flyer and that after the game we would go to Woolworths for a meal before taking a tram (probably in the shape of a Mississippi river boat) see the illuminations.
Well, the first part was wrong with a capital W. The bus was full of Shildon’s finest drinkers, including Michael Jones and his somewhat overweight brother who rejoiced in the nickname of Jasper. He was a drinking legend in the town and he took up two seats on the coach because of his mighty girth.
We were picked up at The King William and the bus meandered down to Close House, where the adults got off and shot into the Royal Hotel for a couple of pints while Billy Reilly and Kenny Snowdon loaded the bus up with crate upon crate of Newcastle Brown Ale.
Stories that Darren Bent had put in a transfer request in the summer but was persuaded to stay would explain the contrast in his performances this season compared to last. Pete Sixsmith speculates on some other reasons, and like Jeremy Robson (below) takes the long view.
Well, that has been an interesting 24/36 hours hasn’t it? Almost defeat to the Mags, imbeciles running on the pitch and then a transfer request from Darren Bent. As the Chinese say, “May you live in interesting times”.
Except I would rather not, or at least not if they are as negative as these “interesting times” are. I don’t want to dwell on yesterday’s game- enough said about it and I am getting a bit worried about myself, when Newcastle fans compliment me on my fairness. I must be getting old. What next? A pat on the back for Nick Clegg? An acceptance that Bernard Manning was “quite funny”?
The idiot who ran on the pitch, one Ross Miller, clearly has the brain cells discarded by a semi educated aardvark. Whatever the reasons for celebrating, it does not extend to pushing over an opposition player. The youth should be thoroughly ashamed of himself and turning up to apologise to Harper and then appearing on 5Live should not prevent him from being barred from the Stadium and the possibilities of a custodial sentence.
With M Salut still out of the country, Jeremy Robson is the first to comment on the surprising – and, for many of us, the very disappointing – news of Darren Bent’s transfer request.
He’s scored thirty odd goals in a season and a half. He has consistently presented himself as a good professional, and has this morning surprised us by asking the club for a transfer. The modern day footballer lies somewhere between a 17th century Pierrot player and a 70s rock star. Despite his goals (for which we are grateful), and the league position which improved considerably, largely due to his strike rate, Darren Bent has never really captured the hearts of the Sunderland faithful in the same way that Messrs Quinn and Phillips did in their pomp, or quite in the same way that Marco Gabbiadini did several years earlier. The Dazzler never really made himself ours. We loved his goals, but the question really remains about whether we really loved him as a player. It’s difficult to love something that isn’t really yours. You might become fond of your next door neighbour’s dog, but he isn’t yours so you will never feel the bond or mutual respect that comes with ownership, and which results from trust, loyalty and a long term relationship. Bent has worn the shirt. He has played well and conducted himself properly and professionally. Sadly you could say the same for your bank manager or accountant or junior school headmaster, provided that you were lucky enough to have a good one.