The best of Salut! Sunderland‘s week – and often enough the worst – is summarised in this slot provided M Salut finds time do it. After what happened at Norwich, and in matters legal, it took one Baggie’s pre-match Q&A and another’s Charlie Hurley poem to make him find time this week …
Today, with all the stormwater that has swept under the bridge, a comprehensive review of what we’ve covered would be just too depressing.
If you want to read what Pete Sixsmith made of Norfolk before the match at Canary Road, that’s fine. Click here – Pete’s spirits were high at that point.
If you want to know what he thought of our performance, you must root around the site for yourselves. It would not be kind to post the link here, even though the piece was, as usual, well-written, intelligently argued and, in the circumstances, restrained.
Things were to get worse. But again, if it’s Bruce Out and, less I fear, Bruce In comment you’re after, you are still on your own. Of course, only modest website navigational skills are needed to find any posting so do feel free to look. I won’t even mention T**** B******. It is, after all, matchday, a time when Salut! Sunderland gets behind the Lads with a totally supportive approach.
Thanks, then, to the week’s two quite exceptional WBA contributions. First, though it was really second, take a look at DublinBaggie’s great Charlie Hurley poem, posted as a comment on the first. These lines were certainly new to me as one who marvelled as a lad at the towering footballing master that was the King (and even met him back then):
A centre half, he was ten foot six,
And he thrilled the crowd with his showboat tricks.
He liked to get his tackles in early,
Tough as old boots, was Charlie Hurley.
He lived in a cage and was fed raw meat,
Ate turkey heads for a Christmas treat.
Compared to him, Ron Yeats was a girlie.
Eat your granny, would Charlie Hurley.
At training sessions, he’d run through walls
While juggling six or seven balls.
No-one ever was so big and burly,
Arse like a barn, had Charlie Hurley.
An iron man with steely class,
And his neck was made from solid brass.
As powerful as his hair was curly,
Roared like a lion, did Charlie Hurley.
He’d kick the ball almost half a mile,
Headed rocks with a fiendish smile,
Before a game he was dark and surly,
There’s no-one today like Charlie Hurley.
And why did DublinBaggie post that? It was his response to the “Who are You?” with David Walford, as solid a West Brom supporter as you’ll find who, asked if there was one Sunderland player he’d happily take, wondered whether Charlie might be available. Read these and other entertaining thoughts on our two clubs, the season ahead and football in all general by clicking here.
Beyond that, I will merely apologise again for the disruption to Salut! Sunderland, especially but not only on Friday, by technological gremlins. And invite you to visit the Salut! Sunderland shop to see whether you fancy any of the T-shirts, mugs, computer mouse pads, bags and pens on offer. You could also pick up the Charlie Hurley book by paying a visit to this Salut! Sunderland Amazon link.
Lastly, I know it’s a lot to ask but can the Bruce’s Banter piece I post tonight or tomorrow please be one reflecting on a good win to banish all the concerns?