Well, after our decent performance, spoilt by the reversion of New New Sunderland to the Old Sunderland failings of conceding silly free-kicks in dangerous positions, and slicing clearances up in the air, Sunday morning style, we piled back onto the buses outside Villa Park to find that Hull had, indeed, won at the Emirates. If you’d managed (been silly enough, more like) to put a daft quid on them to come from behind and win that match, you’d be £599 better off. Football fans in general probably thought “gerrrin, well done Hull.”

If you were a Sunderland fan, you’d have probably thought “gerrin, well done Hull” followed by “bugger, that’s Arsenal in a bad mood for next week.” Thankfully (hopefully), the Gunners will have got a lot of Hull out of their collective system by thumping Porto on Tuesday and be there for the taking today. Hull prospered because Phil the Sand-Dancer decided that trying to defend against them was a waste of time, and getting ripped into them was a better option.

On the good news front, Kenwyne appears to be ahead of schedule fitness-wise, as is young Waghorn, and Roy appears to be checking the ink in his contract-signing pen. On the sort of middling news front, Carlos has joined SAFC Old Boys (AKA Wolves) for three months, hopefully meaning that the Roadrunner will be scorching the SoL turf in the New Year. On the bad news front the reserves lost on Smogside despite scoring twice, so that’s not really that much bad news. On the hilarious news front, I’d received a text at seven on Friday morning (not that funny it itself, but bear with me) from Sixer, imploring me to buy the Guardian. Well, just when you thought that those up the road couldn’t produce anything more ridiculous, Jokey Near produced a press conference that made Reid and Saxton sound like choirboys, and was more akin to Chubby Brown and Andy Garcia arguing over who could swear the most. It’s just what they needed to steady the ship, and is now the stuff of legend. Is he just Keegan in a fat(ter) suit and with a bout of Tourettes?

All of the above was written before ten this morning, and with my tongue firmly in my cheek. Then the phone rang and Cammy conveyed the sad news that Bernard James, or Bernie the Bitterman, had passed away an hour or so earlier. My solicitor, Sunday morning team-mate, my legal council these last twenty-odd years, and fellow Sunderland fan. It’s a bit soon to have taken in all in, but there’s yet another good guy gone, and all I can do at the moment is to pass on my sincerest condolences to his family. Sad news indeed.

Away out of Bish on our shiny new-ish bus, on which we won the football card for the first time in yonks, and into the King’s for a swift one. And I stopped at one, having a night out to consider, and incurred the derision of the ret of me posse.

Gordon
Chimbo Ferdy Collins George
Steed Richo Deano Yorke Reid
Cisse (yellow boots)

Maybe Yorke got his place on the strength of his performance at Ashburton Grove last season, but he didn’t get much chance to do anything for the first three minutes, played in a cold, wet, windy stadium, in which we spent less than ten seconds in the opposition’s half as they kicked towards a decent following of Gooners. Arsenal looked their usual composed selves, we took a while to get any sort of grip, then Collins made a run down the left and saw his cross cleared, then recovered to help out at the back. Cisse ran and crossed from the right, and Reid got it back in from the left, but Arsenal coped with it. Steed was then crowded out as he moved into the box, and Cisse burst through to be flagged offside. All the while Arsenal seemed to be able to close us down at will and move with scary pace and precision, but without being able to get in to really dangerous positions. Steed found Deano in the box, but he was challenged on the spot and the chance was gone before it was fully created, then Richo picked up the loose ball and fired over from distance. A loose back pass let Cisse into the box wide on the left, but Almunia blocked well. Collins produced some good defending to keep out a break, then Chimo broke down the right but lost out near the flag. Steed fed Cisse on the right and fired in a vicious shot that Almunia tipped over, but the corner was headed away. Gordon comfortably saved a well-hit shot, but in that wind, it could have swerved anywhere. Cisse moved quickly down the right and crossed, but beyond any team-mate, then Yorke, playing deep and playing effectively, got in a good tackle to halt an Arsenal attack.

Some nice interplay near halfway on the right got us away, and we sprayed the ball out to the left, where Arsenal won a throw. Several soft decisions went Arsenal’s way before Van Persie was pulled up for pushing Steed. After Deano broke up an attack with an excellent tackle on the left edge of the box, Gordon got a strong hand on a shot low to his right, and Richardson found himself in the book for what looked like a nothing contribution to the scrambled clearance. Decisions began to go our way, if only in our right back area, and Clichy was booked for having a girl’s name and barging Chimbo. Just as we managed to raise our tempo a little and got the crowd going, Deano was booked for what looked like a good tackle, then Steed showed some nice keepy-uppy skills to clear from right-back. The half ended 0-0 which was fair enough, as Arsenal had showed patience to stick to their free-flowing, fluent, sharp-passing style, and we had showed patience to grind our way back into the competition.

No changes for the second half, and Arsenal had us on the back foot from the off. It was a good four minutes before the fans or the Sunderland players had time to draw breath, and Adbayor got into the box to be robbed by Yorke, then Reid almost found Cisse with a long ball over the top. For time, it seemed as if there were fourteen or more yellow shirts on the pitch, but we stuck to our task, and for all Arsenal’s pretty football, we continued to keep them away from the rally dangerous areas. They won a number of corners, a couple of which Adebayor headed over or wide, and the rest we cleared. We almost got in down the right, but Deano found Steed’s ball too strong, then we made slow progress down the left to relieve the pressure. Steed produced a slo-mo sliding tackle to win the ball and Cisse fired over from the right.

Arsenal did get the ball in the net, but a goal kick had already been given, then Toure was the one of the four players who blocked Deano’s run into the box to be booked, but Reid’s free-kick curled over the wall and straight into Almunia’s waiting arms. Their keeper was in action soon after, hacking away from Cisse, then Richo was the next victim of an over-fussy referee. On came Bendtner for Walcott, and soon after Yorke was booked as the ref sough to fill his notebook in a far from dirty game. As we broke he infuriated the home crowd by pulling us back for a free-kick when we’d already made forty yards, then Steed volleyed wide form the corner of the box. Gordon pulled off a great save from Adebayor running on to Bendtner’s ball into the box, and we broke away. Yorke found Cisse, and his cross was handled by Deano as he fell. Another chance gone. Yorke left the field on 83 to generous applause, to be replaced by Leadbitter, with Deano moving deeper. Reid and Richo combined to get the ball to Grant 25 yards out, and he held off a challenge to thunder the ball home off the bar. As we rose in mad celebration, Grant rushed to kiss the turf at the side of the pitch, the spot where his dad’s ashes are laid, apparently.

Steed and Cisse made way for chops and Murphy, and we kept up the tempo against a suddenly more urgent Arsenal side. Four minutes were added, which was no surprise, and Arsenal won yet more corners. With less than a minute remaining, we failed to deal with one for the first time, and Fabregas, hardly the biggest man on the field, appeared from a crowd of bodies to head home. Bollocks.

So, 1-1 at the whistle, which we’d probably have taken at 3pm, but we were one clearance away from beating Arsenal, the team that plays arguably the best passing game in the land. A good game between two side who were up for a proper battle.

Man of the Match? A difficult one, as Collins and Ferdy were impressive at the back, Deano was all over the place in a good sense, but I’ll give it to Yorkie for showing what a bit of guile can do, even when your legs are nearly shot.

I’m now going to change into my dinner suit and walk down Dundas Street. Don’t ask.

Keep the faith

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