As pre-season is now underway, it got me thinking about some of my favourite trips following Sunderland. One that sticks out is Rochdale away - it doesn’t sound like much, but to me it was amazing!
This match classically follows true SAFC fashion - leaving it to the very last minute to secure 3 points.
In April of 2019, I travelled to the Crown Oil Arena (also known as Spotland) in order to watch the Black Cats continue their pursuit of promotion. When being told I’d been gifted with tickets to Rochdale, the first thing that came to my mind was: Where’s that?
After being in the Premier League for such a long time, it came as a shock to me, and many other young fans, that many clubs in the English football pyramid don’t have a stadium comparable to the Stadium of Light. This small-minded attitude led to my reaction to Spotland being something similar to receiving socks for Christmas.
Making the journey with my usual group of Sunderland fanatics, who had been supporting the club for decades on end, we made our way towards Greater Manchester. With a bitter taste of back-to-back relegations still in our mouths, we only hoped that the club can return to where it belongs at the same rate it had fallen.
The 2018-19 season will always stand out to me as a fan, as you had to realise that the people still going to the games, week in week out, were truly passionate about their club, and made sure that the support was there through thick and thin. These fans were present at Rochdale, as the stadium echoed with the voices of thousands of Mackems…
“Sí Señor… Give the Ball to Charlie Wyke and he will score!”
“Rhythm is a dancer, Charlie Wyke's the answer, he can score from anywhere..”
Even weeks after the match, I still had a ringing in my ears of Wyke’s name being shouted like a red and white war cry. He wasn't very good, but somehow that seemed to make his chants even more catchy.
Watching the match proved to me what it meant to be a Sunderland fan, having to endure a difficult 90 minutes before finally being awarded for our patience in the 91st. The Jack Ross era seems like an alternative universe when looking back from today, but as a Mackem you learn to take the highs with the lows.
Rochdale’s Ian Henderson (who finished the season with 20 goals, the 5th highest in the league) opened the scoring after receiving a low driven cross and placing it past an in-form Jon McLaughlin. The Dale held the lead until Wyke uncharacteristically received and turned the Rochdale centre-half, placing a low but hard shot past the goalkeeper, making it even just 10 minutes into the second half.
The match continued on even ground until the dying embers, until a twisting Luke O’Nien bombed up the right flank and placed another low ball into the path of Sunderland’s own George Honeyman. Honeyman placed it past the keeper, burrowing the ball in the far corner. To me, this seemed like some sort of Puskas Award worthy goal, as the six-yard box was more crowded than Independent on a bank holiday.
Beers ascend into the sky, people tumble over the crowded pitchside to celebrate on the pitch, as the Sunderland lad gallops to celebrate in front of the travelling fans. This match sticks out to me as my most memorable away day due to the pure ecstasy of grabbing a last minute winner with one of our own talents, something that I'm sure will be replicated many times in the next few years. Only difference is, our future homegrown players won't have the (dis)pleasure of playing at the Crown Oil Arena.
The team that played for us on that day is almost nostalgic to look at, with the majority of names moving on from the Lads soon after the season ended.
Starting 11: John Mclaughlin, Tom Flanagan, Jack Baldwin, Luke O’Nien, Denver Hume, Lynden Gooch, Dylan McGeouch, Max Power, Lewis Morgan, Charlie Wyke, Will Grigg.
Bench: Bryan Oviedo, Alim Ozturk, George Honeyman, Grant Leadbitter, Robbin Ruiter, Kazaiah Sterling, Jimmy Dunne.
Out of all these, only O’Nien and Gooch remain on Wearside, which may be a blessing in disguise!
The last reason this away game sticks out to me is the journey home. After hours of singing and drinking, energy levels were low. Our moods further depleted when being told our bus wouldn’t be able to take us home on the agreed time.
Conjuring whatever energy we have left, we made our way to the closest pub in sight.
As you would expect, the Red and White Army had invaded this quiet boozer, and transformed it into a haven of fans belting out chants old and new. This experience solidified this away game as the one I’ll never forget, considering it my favourite Sunderland away day since then.
