During the course of Friday I began to feel an itch at the back of my throat, so I knew that a cold was coming on for the week-end. And so it transpired. Despite a 13 hour sleep on the Friday night and going to bed at half six on the Sunday evening I still feel like crap. Hence I am writing this report late – but still in the foul mood that I left Disneyland-in-Islington.
Can I first wish an unpleasant and drawn out (but starting soon) death on anyone who has used the word “plucky” since Sunday morning. I couldn’t give a toss about entertainment – whether it is for the TV viewers around the world or the camera-phone waving tourists in the ground. All I want is points. If we stay up in fourth off bottom place above Derby (who got thumped 6-0 or 6-1 or something here) in third off bottom place on goal difference then I will retrospectively think that there was something positive about this match. As it is, all I am bothered about is that we got beat. Show me a Sunderland supporter who wouldn’t be happy to have got thumped in double figures in this game in exchange for keeping out one of those stupid bloody goals against Blackburn and I’ll show you somebody who needs a good kicking.
This is just too familiar. Against Blackburn we were marginally the better team until their goal then we concede another and then we never look the same the rest of the match. Then we turn in a “plucky” performance against a “big” team that is no bloody use at all because we get nowt. I really, really don’t want to be relegated again. And for that to happen we need points. Nothing but nothing else is important.
If we turn up and go 90mins+ for it against West Ham and get something then I’ll be happy again. In the meantime I am sodding miserable. If you want to know what happened during the game, check your Skyplus or find some fish and chip wrapper.
John aka Herts
