Saturday brought a welcome day of rest, well by that of course I mean a lot of time in bars and other various hedonistic establishments.

An early rise was in order following the previous night’s escapades and I was as surprised as anyone that I didn’t wake up with a head like a pneumatic drill of pain. Is it something that they put or don’t put in the lager on the continent? I never seem to get a hangover no matter how much I drink when I’m on the mainland, watch this space.

There was a Mackem takeover on the cards as most pubs and coffee shops were bustling with Sunderland fans. It was quickly becoming the ‘Red and white district’, and we were all too happy to join in the ranks.

The antics of the previous night were still very fresh in the memory (just) and it really is an experience when walking to a bar to have five stunning birds beckoning for you in. When does that happen in the town? Well not for me anyway, I’m more the equivalent of Alan Partridge with the lasses. We can’t have it all. I can’t remember much else after that.

Another early start was required on the Sunday as we were getting kicked out of our rooms at eleven and had to get the packing sorted and throw it onto the ALS coach. After this was sorted we naturally did what most people in our situation would do to get rid of a hangover, find the nearest bar as quickly as possible. It didn’t take long, and we wound down the time with a good few pints to get us in the mood for the final match of Sunderland’s tournament.

The challenge of the stadium steps had slipped our memory, and the session in the morning didn’t do anything to make it easier. After the ascent we sorted out our parched mouths and got to our seats for the match. We lined up pretty much the same as we did on Friday with Fulop, Bardsley, Nosworthy and Ferdinand making up the defence, Richardson, Malbranque, Edwards, Henderson and Leadbitter making up the midfield and Jones as the lone striker once again.

We started the game quickly and Jones should have had us 1-0 up after 36 seconds but put his free header over the bar. We had Atletico on the back foot and Jones was playing like his old self causing hell in the opposition’s defensive ranks. It looked like a 0-0 half time score until Steed was clipped in the box and Richardson slotted the resulting penalty home, easy as you like.

The second half started much like the first and late on Richardson hit the back of the net from a Malbranque cross to make it 2-0 and kill the game off. Good performance from the lads at both ends of the pitch.

After one last farewell pint, we decided to head back to the coach after our game rather than wait it out and watch the final match of the tournament. I won’t bore you to death with details about the trip home. Basically it was long and sleepless, but definitely worth it; some memories that will never get lost in the grey area of the mind.

Final Score: 2-0

Man of the Match: Richardson

Jonothan Scollen

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