So we’ve managed the fourth round for the first time in a few years, and in decent style as well. But for one great free-kick, it could have been the tie of the round at home to Blyth Spartans. Harry Dunn’s lads weren’t quite up to beating Blackburn reserves, who did no good at all to my chances of winning the wooden spoon (and associated £5) in the works Fantasy League by playing Vogel ands thus gaining me two more points than his usual big fat zero. Talk has been of us showing an interest in someone called Modeste M’Bami. Good player he may well be (we’ll probably never know, to be honest) but the possible songs have had me smiling all week. Red Army, M’Bami, Salami. Childish I know, but I can’t help myself.

At the great big night out with the Diners Club last night, for the first time in way too long, there was much football talk, made all the more interesting because we are a mixed group. My Crabbers ringtone drew a few glances, not necessarily of admiration, when John called to arrange transport to Smogland, as I was sitting beneath a signed mag shirt at the time. Needless to say the Red and Whites amongst us had to order, as our monochrome brethren have enough difficulty asking for anything other than pastry based products. I chose the stuff most likely to produce a noxious presence the day after, because on Teesside, no-one can smell you fart. Much hope was directed at Keiran’s ankle, the target of the so-called late challenges last weekend. From where I sat, it looked like the Bolton man got there exactly when he planned to. Other discussion was of course about the Nissan situation, which has gone from dodgy to downright awful. And it’ll get worse before it gets better, not just in the North East.

As we weren’t setting off until quarter to one, there was time for a lie-in and a decent bit of scran before spending the Tinford Inn did cracking business with those of us waiting for the bus. Then there was the usual pleasant sojourn in Winyard Business Park. Lovelhy Middlesbrough, where the crime rate of 168 recorded offences per 1,000 people is the highest in the region and twice that in Sunderland’s fair city. So our impression wasn’t wrong at all. At least we couldn’t see the chimneys and smoke from there, but we did agree that footballers can control a ball much better than they can control a car. Take Ronaldo, for instance. Having written off yet another couple of hundred grand’s worth of Ferarri, he’s apparently claimed that it wasn’t his fault, as the wall wasn’t the full ten yards away. We also laughed about Rafa’s rant, although it was less of a rant than a measured statement of fact. Nice one, Rafa, although it did seem very reminiscent of a less controlled outburst from Tyneside over a decade ago. Careful, lad. To be honest, if Ferguson was serious when he said that the fixtures were deliberately planned to Man Utd’s detriment, he’s lost the plot completely.

Still bloody cold on Teesside as we passed out one polis per man policy, mean ing thre were more yellow coats than Maplins, which is fine, and Marcus the Mackem paramedic on duty in the away end. Dioufy’s keepy-up in the warm up was worth a couple of quid on its own, being reminiscent of the sort of stuff Keiron Brady used to come up with.

No surprises with the starting eleven of

Fulop
Chimbo Noz Ferdy Collins
Steed Richo Deano Diouf
Jones Cisse

As the teams sized each other up, there was little in the way of incisive play, Chimbo headed Cisse through only for a flag to halt play. Pascal was involved again as we footballed our way out of defence on the right. Steed got himself another early booking, meaning that he’ll not be on the field against Villa next week, the first of a number of frustrating decisions by referee Dowd. Downing struck a shot well, but it was fairly comfy for Fulop, then Hoolio looked up, saw someone at the back of the Sunderland crowd, and fired straight at him. As we settled into the game, we gat all but the front two behind the ball on Boro attacks, and Whitehead was everywhere tackling, carrying, and encouraging. He found Riho on the left with a great long pass, but, not for the first or last time, the final ball into the box wasn’t good enough. Tuncay shot over, but our simple, effective defence was keeping them at bay for the most part. Richardson’s free kick on 25 minutes won us a right wing corner, then another was returned and found Cisse then Diouf, but his effort was neither a cross nor a shot as it floated across the face of goal and wide.

Deano found Collins, whose cross was headed wide, then Hoolio poked another effort wide. Whitehead was unlucky on halfway when he and an opponent slid into each other and the decision went the Boro way. He then found Jones, but the sot was weak and wide. Kenwyne did better when Richo’s long freekick found him, but his downward header was easy for their keeper. Just as we were settling for evens at the break, Boro produced the best move of the half, as Downing played the games first good ball into the box and Alves smacked it into the corner.

Bugger, but there was still half the game to go, despite only one minute being added. We managed to win a corner before the break, but we were a tad unlucky to be behind to what was a bad goal to give away. Boro thought it would be a good idea to water the pitch, despite it being around freezing point, but only their second half right defensive side. What’s the point of that? Mind, they did try to get a third sprinkler going further up the pitch, but it wouldn’t play ball so they gave up. The Smogs have added Chelsea Tractor to Pigbag in their repertoire of irritating tunes, as well as Me Mark Page telling us every five minutes that we’d be kept back for a while after the match. We know, pal, we all got a letter on the way through.

No changes for the second half, and Jones chased down the ball to win an early corner, but Steed’s dead ball went out before it reached the middle, and another chance was gone. We played some nice touches into the box from the left, but wanted one too many and were crowded out. After only seven minutes, Steed was replaced by Carlos, then Noz was booked before the ref blew against Collins as Boro continued to break up the rhythm of the game by going to ground under the slightest of challenges. That’s a fair enough tactic, but the ref fell for it every time when he should have been stringer and made the game flow by telling them to stop it. Chimbo won us a corner on the left, and Carlos whipped the ball in only for Cisse’s header to fly up in the air. Another identical corner a minute later flew past everybody to safety, and on 66 Diouf made way for Reid. Andy was straight into the action with a series of twists and turns which allowed him to cross but it was cleared.

For all Diouf’s control and effort, Reid’s introduction saw us at last get some decent ball into the danger areas. We have two cracking forwards in there, despite their apparent unwillingness to jump at times, and if we get the ball in the box to them, they’ll score. Not a perfect partnership yet, but as Ian Dury said, I See Glimpses. A head onto Jones by Cisse was returned and Djibril nearly got through. On 73, Fulop was caught by an offside Tuncay and needed treatment before continuing. An awful freekick by Richardson was typical of his deliveries on the day as if flew high and wide. With ten to go, he made way for Healy, who took a fair bit of abuse from some of the visiting fans, which is a bit strange as none of us has seen him play more than an hour or so for the first team. After losing out on a poor ball towards him from Edwards, he sped down the same channel used by Downing in the first half and delivered a perfect cross along the deck for Jones to outmuscle two defenders and knock the ball into the same place as Alves had. Pandemonium in the away end as Healy went from lazy Irish sod to hero of the moment for some. Hero of the moment for most, though.

That goal signalled a frantic last eight minutes, and the best football of the match as we suddenly found the ability to provide decent quality balls in to the box. Alves, a neat, lithe, and mobile player, mad way for the hilariously fat and scruffy Mido, who must surely only be getting a run-out in an attempt to justify his huge pay packet. The man’s an embarrassment to football, and would be laughed at on a Sunday morning for his appearance and attitude. Fat, lazy, and uninterested. Rant over.

Reid’s perfect corner was met by the unlikely Edwards, and Johnson cleared with a donkey kick while standing on the line, and the follow up ended on the top of the net. No reaction from the linesman, but it’s the kind of effort that counts when it’s made by Man Utd, Chelsea, Arsenal, or Liverpool.

Carlos shot over as Healy operated well behind the front two, and four extra minutes were announced. Boro’s corner was won by Jones, who took a return to get the ball away and Cisse rode a challenge to find himself with the Boro half gaping in front of him. As he strode in to the box from our left, Healy was sprinting forward, but as Djibril made to either shoot or knock the ball square, McMahon came up with the tackle of the game, the ball flew to safety, and the whistle went. Cisse remained on the floor with his head in his hands for several minutes, knowing that he’d had a chance to fashion the most dramatic of wins.

Overall, we should be happy with a point, although had the game gone on for another five or ten minutes, we’d have won. In fact, we probably wouldn’t have been branded lucky had we on it, because of the fire and passion of the last ten or so. The problem was that we were dealing comfortably with Boro’s domination of the first half until their one moment of genuine quality, but the general quality of the first eighty minutes was poor. Despite Reid’s ability to produce decent balls into danger areas, he only had twenty-odd minutes in which to do it, and for the majority of the game the final ball, from both sides, just wasn’t good enough. A hard fought derby with plenty of good tackles and a fair bit of pretty football, but not enough top-notch stuff in the final third. We showed glimpses late on, and need to produce that kind of stuff from the off against better opposition in coming games.

As we supped our post-match Bovrils while waiting for the gates to open, TV replays seemed to confirm that the backheel was indeed from behind the line and a goal should have been given. Ah well, we are Sunderland and we don’t get that kind of decision.

Man of the Match? Deano had his best game in ages, being back to his tackling, ground-covering best, and Reid showed what he’s good at, but I’ll give it to Ferdy for, their goal aside, marshalling the defence well all afternoon.

Keep the faith

Sobs' Book click here...