The third round of the FA Cup with fizzy American beer-based product. Rolls off the tongue, doesn’t it? It sold its soul just to pay for its dinner, its stomach grew fat but its heart grew thinner.

OK, it’s a line I’ve used before, but it’s more relevant than ever. Bud*****? Give us a break, FA.

We passed Boothby Pagnell and Burton Coggles, both of whom probably played for The Engineers in the first few years of the planet’s best knockout competition, and arrived in Middle England personified - Stamford. What a canny place, and lucky that we’d heard that the Golden Fleece was open early – mind, half of Bish and Spenny was in there when we arrived at eleven, but the beer was good, the craic was even better, and Stanford couldn’t quite believe what they were seeing. The local news reported the sighting of the first ever replica football shirt in the town, and we moved on to the London Inn – more good beer and good craic, another couple of buses of Wearsiders hove into sight. Miraculously, the Wood brothers drifted into the same pub, we had a beer and wandered up the road to the Green Man to watch the Manchester derby, and I nudged Ron as another customer entered – with a mag badge. He took his pint round the corner, and less than a minute later brought back his empty glass, didn’t make his apologies, and left in a hurry. Maybe he didn’t appreciate Joy Division on the jukey, maybe he didn’t appreciate Ron’s glare.

And no, Kompany should not have been sent off.

Into Peterborough by 2:15, and a quick walk up to Charters – the first time I’ve been on a boat for a pre-match bevy. Brilliant, and I found out who’d left me a Donny Drinker and ALS HQ last week, but also heard the sad news about Poledancer/Podge, which took the edge of things a bit.

Anyway, MON put out a team that would have had us screaming at Bruce, but the difference is the temp at which he had them playing

Ming the Masked

Bards O’Shea Killa Rico

Seb Vaughan Catts Gardner McLean

Sess

No real striker, but from the off, it was easy to see how it can work. Sess was supported by two wide men and Vaughan or Gardner every time, and it looked like a proper one-up-front-formation. Despite their drum, which should have been the target of a sniper, the crowd were up for it. Standing, the smell of linament, the slightly rickety away end, the retro songs (Bally, Rowell, Marco, Kerr, Ordy, Halom, Howey, Hoolio, Tueart, Hurley, Todd – they were all praised several times) –what a cracking game. While they didn’t give Ming too much to do, Peterborough played a decent game, moving forward as a unit and keeping the game wide. Bards got in a great tackle to keep out their left wing break, and they shot wide soon after. We kept our powder dry, held them up at the edge of the box, and played it out. Gardner hit a decent shot, and got a decent cross in, then we grew into the game, with McLean firing off the bar and Joe Lewis (no, not the boxer) keeping another Gardner effort out. Rico also managed to get in a decent effort, but it was off target. Still, we are MON’s Sunderland, and we’ll get there in the end.

In terms of possession, they probably edged the first half, but we didn’t let them do much with it. There were three minutes added, the fans were happy with 0-0, and were happy to wait for the second half to finish the job.

No changes for the second half, and no need for them. McLean was well covered by two or even three home defenders, as they obviously remembered him from his trial there, but he relished the challenge. The more men they put on him, the more men he barged out of the way. Catts was continuing in the vein of form he has established since the Blessed Martin arrived, and he’s very definitely on my Christmas card list now. Vaughan danced around him, picking up the pieces and feeding the wide men, while Gardner alternated between backing up Sess and helping out his defence. And while we’re on about the defence, in which O’Shea did exactly what you’d expect, what about Killa? “Matthew Killgallon, we thought you were dead” we sang, and what a game he had. OK, it was “only” Peterborough, but he never put a foot wrong. Anyway, back to the second half, and an early free kick when McLean was crowded down, and Seb whipped in a cross/shot from our left that evaded everybody – most importantly the keeper. That’s four free kicks from him so far, added to Gardner’s on Tuesday, and three headers from corners. Is this Sunderland? Yes it is.

The home side lost the ball from the restart, and Gardner’s pass to Seb was scuffed a bit, making the home keeper’s job easy, but we kept up the pressure and kept up the singing. We moved the ball about well, knew we had it virtually in the bag, and retained possession to make that point. McLean worked his ticket again down the wing, and had a shot deflected for a corner. He then won a corner at the other side, and was there with his head at the front post to score the second. Sunderland? Near post headers from corners? We’re getting quite good at this! And a winger scoring from them? Wow. On came Ji, Mayler, and Elmo for Sess, Vaughan, and Gardner, and we ran the game down like a proper Prem team should do. Maybe the only downer was Catts getting booked for a bit of a silly challenge, but I’ll forgive him that after the game he had. I don’t know what MON has put in Catts’s coffee, but it’s bloody good stuff.

We had other chances, but to be honest, it was more a case of holding on to what we’d got, and in the end ran out quite comfy winners. Praise to Peterborough for having a go, not resorting to the long ball or the clog, and for generally making the day a good one.

2-0 at the end, and the home side couldn’t have any complaints. A good game played in a good spirit, and decently refereed. A great day on the terraces (remember them?) on which nobody fell over and nobody got hurt, unlike Tuesday night, from which I’m still nursing a barked shin.

Decent performances across the whole team, with a special mention for Killa, solid at the back after so long in the wilderness, and Catts, tenacious and clever in the middle (even had me singing his name), but top of the pops again, for me, was Mr Clean – Jamie, Jamie, Jamie Mac, befuddle your fullback. Maybe a bit cocky towards the end, but we were two up and he was entitled to do that. And top marks to the travelling fans as well. Boro at home in the next round – great tie, with a lively Boro side under a decent manager likely to give us a bit of a test. Great stuff.

I’ll leave you with a quote from a certain Mr Clough. “If Martin O’Neill was Swedish or French, he’d have walked the England job.”

Keep the Faith

Sobs' Book click here...