There was plenty to love about Roker Park. Mostly it was the memories by the end as the stadium, if we’re honest, had been left to deteriorate as the shiny new stadium gathered pace up the road. The moment when the fans of the Rokerites entered the Stadium of Light for the first time it was nothing short of breath taking. Sunderland were the proud owners of one of the best stadiums in the country, if not the best. It wasn’t just the stadium itself it was the thought, the commitment and the pride. For example they had brought in a psychologist to advise on dressing room designs. The home dressing room luxurious with all the mod cons; the away dressing room uncomfortable and stark. The security facilities were second to none; from a little box at the back of the stand police were able to focus with precision cameras on any seat within the ground. The access ways had been designed to evacuate the stadium in the shortest time possible (it was also when I learned that the concrete tunnels through which we exit the main arena are also known as vomitories. Then there was the sports bar, now Quinn’s Bar, which gathered mementos from Sunderland’s life before the Stadium of Light and decorated the room with them. When the stadium first opened the Sports Bar used to be open outside of match day and was open access, rather than being an allocated corporate package bar. I assume the lack of paying customers through the week over the year didn’t justify staffing the bar. The fact of the matter is that the Stadium was built with pride and we were all desperately proud of it.
Pride comes before a fall of course; and we have fallen since those days somewhat spectacularly. Obviously a fall from grace of that magnitude is going to affect budgets and finances. The board will have to prioritise expenditure and rumours of increased spending in the Academy are welcome; however, just because we’re League One we should still be demonstrating a little self respect as a club and the club should be showing a bit more respect for the fans. Someone once put it to me that the fans were responsible for lifting the team and he expressed frustration that it wasn’t happening. My response was that the team can equally inspire or disengage the fans. It’s a symbiotic relationship which can spiral either way. The team are performing now and we are unbeaten in 9 games following the Shrewsbury game. The atmosphere where I sat was excellent and the noise for the third goal was reminiscent of some of our days higher up in the league. Midway through the first half I looked up to the roof frustrated that we had thrown away the lead and saw the paint flaking in large sections. I saw the black stains caused by a leak. At the bottom of the scoreboard a net dangled down, carelessly shoved into a space. Pride is important.
The Family Enclosure was previously adorned with bright pictures; hammering home the message that this was a place for kids to be. Games Consoles used to be available and there was even a small stage for occasional performers. The games consoles are no more, the pictures are flaking off the walls and yesterday the stage was surrounded by burberry clad youngsters chugging their beer. It feels as though the family enclosure has lost sight of what it was set up for. Outside the stadium the neglect continues.
On the approach from the Metro through Sheepfolds one of the first things you will see is a sign giving directions to wherever it is in the stadium that you want to go. The sign itself is faded, more orange than red shall we say, which makes me think it is as old as the stadium itself. The fact that they direct people to the South Stand rather than the Roker End gives it some carbon dating at least. That’s if you can actually read the sign which is covered in graffiti. Moving on from the sign you will see the mural of Ji scoring against Man City, a mural peeling off the wall. On the opposite side of the street two more murals grafittied and peeling. Coming out of sheepfolds and passed the red containers, themselves relics of a once vibrant fanzone, a solitary banner flutters on a lamppost. Frayed beyond recognition t the bottom. I think it was the bottom, the badge seemed to be upside down. I think it was to mark Gary Bennett’s service to the club, but it was so weathered it was very difficult to tell. I’m not Gary Bennett but if I was I’d probably take it as indicative of what the current ownership thinks of maintaining respect. Respect is also not granted to families and fans who have paid money to have their names included on the Wall of Fame. Tens of thousands of bricks line the walls at the stadium. Memories of loved ones lost are all over as flowers are attached to individual bricks. I noticed a temporary fix to a couple of the panels against Gillingham. Two random pieces of wood had been screwed into the wall. Presumably this was to prevent the bricks from obeying gravity and sliding off the wall. The wood itself looked like a couple of pieces of wood from a scrap heap. I dismissed it as a temporary fix only to see it again versus Shrewsbury. Pride is one thing respect is another.
Given we know the share ownership split now and we also know that the majority shareholding group have distanced themselves from the club it is perhaps unsurprising to see the neglect around the stadium. If the shareholders aren’t that fussed then why would they bother. It’s reminiscent in a sense of the way Thatcher neglected the north-east during her reign of hatred towards the working classes; and the neglect is on the site of a former mine. Every Saturday home match day, volunteers lay out flags in the Roker End, Making their way through the uncollected litter from previous matches. The aim is to create an atmosphere to be proud of. They do that job without reward beyond the impact it has on the crowd. As the late winner went in against Shrewsbury the flags re-emerged in U37; a section that has created its own identity. It was a tight squeeze in there, not because of migration issues but the club had managed to sell me a ticket for a seat that already had a season card holder attached to it. The fans are doing their bit; it’s the club who are now failing and a wound gets worse when it's treated with neglect.
