This is the slot where Salut! Sunderland‘s inimitable chronicler and sage casts his instant judgement on every SAFC match – …
Danny Welbeck might have had three and sent Sunderland third. Beckford had a last-ditch chance to break our hearts. It ended a fair 2-2. …
The first half was a story of several great crosses and two great goals.
The excellence of the crossing continued after the break, one from Kieran Richardson producing what might have been Sunderland’s winner and confirming Danny Welbeck’s emergence as a strong, dangerous striker.
This half-time report has been superseded – click here…
Two great moves, two great goals. Sadly the first was Everton’s, Leighton Baines’s fabulous cross from the left being met by a header that was just too powerful for Craig Gordon.
The head, inevitably, belonged to Cahill. Bloody Tim Cahill as the first text put it, f***ing Tim Cahill as far as the second texter was concerned. Steve Bruce will want to know where the Ferdinand/Turner centre back pairing were at the time, but let us not pretend it was other than a splendid goal.
Rachel Flannery* is an Evertonian with special reason to be invited to answer our “Who are You?” questionnaire ahead of tonight’s SAFC v Everton game. She lives and works in the North East, and chairs the regional supporters’ club branch. Trust a woman to get straight to the point: Wear/Tyne matches are not derbies, she says, since they are not between clubs of the same city. And Newcastle United? “Win a couple of games and they’re the best in Europe”. She said it, not us …
Salut! Sunderland: Despite a poor start, you seem to be showing signs of having a decent season. What are your minimum and maximum expectations?
Maximum expectation – would be an FA cup run and finishing about 6th. Minimum expectation would be finishing above 10th. Ever the optimist!!!
Eight days have passed since the glorious victory at Chelsea.
It came just two weeks after the humiliating defeat at St James’ Park. Some would cheerfully have reversed those 1-5, 3-0 results.
I am not one of them: however embarrassing the derby trouncing was, it was a game that mattered little to the bigger world of football beyond our tribal divide. Hammering mighty Chelsea, in a way that simply never happens to them, was a momentous event noticed everywhere and appreciated by virtually all non-Chelsea supporters.
Yes, you guessed. Any excuse to show a clip of Carlos Edwards’s promotion-securing winner against Burnley, and hear that priceless Simon Crabtree commentary again …
There should be no real surprise that on a quiet, match-free weekend people should find odd ways of keeping themselves amused.
In certain quarters where Sunderland fans gather, I have been reading some impertinent speculation about the true reason for Ray Wilkins’s departure from Chelsea. There has also been much merriment at the misfortune of a team that shall remain anonymous at the hands of mighty, free-scoring Bolton.
And two Salut! Sunderland readers have chimed in with amazingly belated responses to an item that appeared on these pages as far back as 2008. One, Mackem Mick, wrote to say how much he’d enjoyed the read; the other, Birflatt Boy, denounced it as puerile tosh.
They were talking about a two-part item on my young friend Fatima al Shamsi, a football-mad Emirati with whom I worked when she was an intern during my spell at The National in Abu Dhabi.
The interest to Sunderland supporters was that Fatima, though a big fan of Arsenal (and also a collector of other teams and countries that catch her attention), had also started showing a fondness for SAFC. This was an attachment fostered with a degree of indoctrination on my part, but it has sustained to the extent that she looks out quite keenly for our results – though sometimes with a little self-interest, as her most recent e-mail to me showed. “Congratulation on the Chelsea win,” she wrote. “Many many thanks from Arsenal supporters trying to prevent the evil Blues from getting any points.”
So what was the fuss about? When I looked back in the Salut! Sunderland archives, I realised photos and some text had been lost in the switch from individual Typepad blogging format to join footballunited.com’s cluster of sites at WordPress. The first part of the two-part series was missing.
So here, on a dull Sunday, is a reminder of both. It’s now a historical item, but may entertain – or appal – the many who missed it first time around or have since tried to follow dead links to read either part. Please note that my crystal ball gazing about Abu Dhabi and the Premier came half-true: I just got the wrong name for the club that would be bought …
An appalling play on words, and surely more than enough to make Peter Cross*. I always thought, because Catholic friends in Belfast and Derry/Londonderry told me so, that Everton was predominantly their club, Liverpool the Protestants’. Peter, who leads Northern Ireland’s branch of the Everton Supporters’ Club, knows better; ahead of Monday’s SAFC v Everton clash at the Stadium of Light, he offers a brief but scholarly history of the two clubs. And yes, talks about football, too …
We cannot really be sure what to think about those five out of 10s in this morning’s England match reports, or the barbed “not quite ready” remarks on one debutant’s individual performance in a poor team performance. Maybe we should just be quietly content; we know how good Jordan Henderson is and it’ll do Sunderland no harm if the rest of the world, and notably the predatory “big clubs”, reach a kneejerk conclusion that he’s not – yet – such a star after all. Luke’s World oozes the common sense thoughts of Luke Harvey …
The child in me is still delirious after the weekend’s triumph but seeing our very own Jordan Henderson struggle against a disciplined French side was a slightly bitter pill to swallow.
It’s often said that being a Sunderland supporter is never dull. Just when we might have thought we were heading for a straightforward, mid-table finish, we have the low of Newcastle followed by the high of Chelsea. Luke Harvey reflects on an amazing fortnight, and applauds our players’ resilience in bouncing back.
I could write reams and reams on my emotions and thoughts after the amazing destruction of league leaders Chelsea. None would truly convey all my feelings and none would be as good as Sixer’s succinct seven word round up, but the victory over Chelsea is easily as amazing as the Newcastle result was terrible.
The focus and commitment from the team was second to none. From beginning to end we looked in control of the situation, and even with a slender 1-0 lead Chelsea never looked like mounting a serious comeback – although I didn’t rule out the possibility until Welbeck made it three.
As already said elsewhere on this site: we were magnificent from front to back – and all without our talisman Darren Bent, proving we weren’t just a one-man team. With results since the Newcastle debacle looking very promising, it seems like Gyan and Welbeck have quickly formed an understanding up front – although surely Bent’s place in the team won’t be in jeopardy when fit.
While the £13m Ghanaian may be taking most of the plaudits up front – although I’m unsure where I stand on his dancing skills (I won’t complain to seeing them a few more times this season) – the rest of the team are deserving of equal praise.
Having not missed a match home or away all season, except on the odd school night, Pete Sixsmith laments opting out of the Chelsea game on the grounds of cost. Instead, the Horans’ sofa takes one hell of a beating.
I have a short list of things I know that I will never do in my lifetime, things like never voting Tory or taking up English folk dancing. One of the football related things I vowed I would never do (alongside banging a drum at a match) was to pay £48.00 to watch a run-of-the-mill Premier League game.
Now, one of my golden rules has been broken. I have never ever voted Tory (or Lib Dem – they’re the same, aren’t they?) and you will never see me skipping around a market place with bells on my feet and waving knotted hankies at all and sundry. However, I do wish that I had spent £48.00 on Sunday on a ticket for Stamford Bridge.
If I had children (poor little sods) I could regale them in my dotage about how I was there at SJP in 1990, Hillsborough in 1973, Roker for the Manchester United replay in 1964. But I would not be able to say that I was at Stamford Bridge the day Sunderland slaughtered Chelsea (Paul Merson’s words, not mine).
