Fatha said he was setting off at 5am, but did that stop him sending me his usual Friday video of the band he was watching at 11pm? Nope. They don't make 'em like him anymore.
Can we put the first 20 mins down to jetlag/coachlag? Survey says- nope. Conceding early on from a set piece. Sound familiar?
Swansea's form wasn't far off our own, although they hadn't won at home since November, whereas we... had. Ballard's attempt to head it clear led to a pretty difficult deflection to read and much like the goal we conceded mid-week, we had a handful of players looking at the ball with no plan what to do. During the aforementioned free kick det-up, Jobe was left marking their number 9. As history has taught us, If you're marking a striker and you let them see the back of your shirt - you're done for. So they scored.
Despite him not scoring at home since August, the home team's commentary said Swans' number 9, Vipotnic, Sonic the Hedgehog's nemesis, was 'as sharp as ever'. Who's our number 9? - '404 not found'. That's genuinely what SAFC's website says when you google 'Sunderland number 9'. Google it. Or don't. Can we have one, please?
Next up we conceded a foul on the edge of our box. Fair enough, but an identical foul had been committed on us moments earlier at the other end of the pitch, and that one didn't get a free kick, though. That's consistency for you. Anyway - 2-0. Did the wall jump? No. Was it a good free kick? Yes. Am i just enjoying answering my own questions because we won? No comment.
The Swans still looked as if they knew just how lucky they'd been as their energy seemed to dissipate. However, although the majority of the Lads may be young, they have daftness on their side as well as deftness... and with daftness comes resilience. I think that's off Spiderman - 'With great daftness comes great resilience.'
Last week I heard some pundits criticising Jobe for running into players with his head down whilst going forward. This is often because he has three players closing him down. While he has chosen to bear the moniker of 'Jobe', I think our opposition's pre- match team talk will probably still mention the fact that there's a 'Bellingham' on the pitch. Another lesson for the 6ft 3 whippersnapper, but thankfully he's a fast learner. While Swansea has its own mining history, we Mackems also know how to dig deep. So, like my ancestors beneath our stadium, we did.
I don't think I'd be alone in saying even at two nil down I still fancied us to get something out of the match. The chants of 'Ha'way the Lads' from our travelling menagerie suggested they had more than just a coffee for their 5am breakfast, and that they believed as well. After all, this ain't our first rodeo. Cue a set piece and Dan Ballard brilliantly fell head-first into the ball from a simple Hume cross to make things more respectable. Nice.
Cabango also caused us problems, not just because he had a name I bet commentators love. It sounds like a car - The Citroen Cabango. Or a disinfectant - 'Cabango! and the dirt is gone'. Anyway, enough nonsense.
The second half arrived and we continued to do what we'd been doing for the latter part of the first. Even though we'd made mistakes in that first 45, we didn't seem phased.
Then O'9 came on and we seemed to switch to a back three, which is when Wearside's Pirlo stepped up...
Dan's had a funny season. He's become a bit of a Marmite player. Today, though, his strength and awareness got him into a great position to fire home something worthy of any training ground. When it comes to football, at the end of the day you talk with your feet. And for the record I like Marmite.
2-2.
At this point we were making the Swans look like cygnets. Yes, I said it, and that's what you get for having a naff nickname. I wasn't surprised when we scored the third and I don't think I was alone in that feeling either. Pressure and that - it generally works.
Paddy held up the ball snd set Rigg away for a cross to Jobe with Issy making a great run to make space for the muscular poke home. Seamless.
It was probably my favourite celebration of recent years. Three teenagers and the rest of the team immediately stormed over to our fans and let them know how much it meant to them. They celebrated like they'd never celebrated before. Did they deserve to be two nil down in the first place? Well, perhaps, but we spanked them in the end. Beautiful.
O'9 dropped into defence/midfield/attack and spent ample time checking his boots and his watch, and pointing out a particularly interesting blade of grass he'd seen. Shithousery at its finest, and nowt the ref could find wrong about it.
Two 'proper' crosses and two proper goals? More of that please. Can you hear me RLB?
