Dear ALS... The pre-match pint has become a ritual almost more enjoyable than the game itself. With tongues loosened by drink and hopeful prospects on the horizon, camaraderie flows and our sense of tribalism sharpens. But there comes a tipping point when this key ingredient of the match day experience morphs into an all-day drinking session, which rarely ends well.
Talking to a group of Mackems at a London away game not long ago, I asked what time they had left Sunderland: “ten to seven”, they replied. Asking what time they had started drinking, there was a pause as they took in my apparently idiotic question, “ten to seven” came the deadpan reply. Before the 90 minutes were up, two of this group had been ejected for foul and abusive behaviour, while another missed most of the game slumped semi-conscious in his seat.
Following Sunderland is not for the faint-hearted and the pressurised environment of high expectations but low achievement mean tempers quickly flare. Add into the mix an intoxicated, noisy minority and the atmosphere at gam