Lambs to the Slaughter

It was a hunch and as hunches go, I find them rarely come true. After so many decades following Sunderland and seeing, I have no idea, 1,000 plus matches, I should have known better. The belief at the back of my mind was that the team would be enthused with the arrival of a new head coach, raring to go as they had shown under the interim management of Kevin Ball, but even more so. Getting a result at Swansea seemed far from being an impossible task, followed by defeating the Mags and Steve Bruce's Hull. It would be as it were: 'What crisis!' [More]

Void Left By Quinn

There are two things Sunderland's American owner Ellis Short has in common with Niall Quinn. Both are Irish passport-holders and the billionaire businessman also succeeded the affable football legend as the club's chairman. But there the similarities seem to end with each having totally different records in trying to run the day-to-day affairs at the Black Cats. [More]

Jozy Has Been Playing Canny Apparently

Jozy Altidore has been quoted praising himself and cursing Sunderland’s luck for the start of this season. The United States international has scored zero league goals, assisted zero league goals and generally not made a massive impact since returning to the Premier League after an enormously successful spell in Holland. I have to be pretty blunt here, I am afraid there is not much substance which I can use to back up Jozy’s claims. [More]

We Have One Good Centre Back

One man who seems destined to blossom under Gus Poyet is cultured centre back Valentin Roberge. Like most at Sunderland, his start to life on Wearside has been inconsistent but I see a very competent defender here – certainly more so than any other player we have in that position. [More]

Sunderland, Man Utd & Death

There are five minutes left to play and Man Utd are a goal ahead with Sunderland looking highly unlikely to cause any cursed, last minute press-box re-writes in another, ultimately, predictable conclusion to a supposedly highly unpredictable form of entertainment. My extremely bored, Leicester-supporting, step-son yawns beside me and inspects the label on his now empty bottle of nuclear-blue energy drink. It's the least energetic I've ever seen him. I glance over to my dad just past him, who returns my gaze with a resigned roll of his eyes. We exchange no words as we have suffered through this particular play many times before. [More]