Ok, I admit it. For a period, many, myself included, didn’t like Sunderland very much. He was the problematic bairn, the one you love out of inherent duty, out of moral obligation as a parent. And if your paths weren’t inextricably intertwined, woven by some greater power at play, then you’d probably have dropped him off at a foster home by now. “Keep him.”
Yet, despite that dislike bubbling away underneath the surface (which would often overspill), you stood by your own flesh and blood for that reason
alone, and in the hope that one day maybe he might change. That love, that has remained so enduring for so long, gives back from time to time.
Now, not only do you actually attend his parent’s evenings, but you relish them, for he is a high-achiever. Other mums and dads approach you looking for tips, congratulating you for what a wonderful job you’ve done. “Ah, I wish my little lad, Sheffield United, was like that. How do you do it?”
“Weird name for a kid,” you reply.
Wednesday’s occasion was for us. It was for a miserable, wet trip to Fleetwood Town, it was for those who travelled to Accrington, Shrewsbury, and Rochdale. It was for David Moyes, Simon Grayson, and Alex Neil. It was for Netflix, for the pink seats, for back-to-back relegations. It was for former charlatan owners, for jobbers, and scruffy pitches. But, we all know that, I guess.
Look at us now. With our six pack, our gleaming white teeth, and fresh tan about to board a flight bound for Europe. Of course, it’s always important to carry around a reminder; a picture in your wallet, purse, or bum bag that you can whip out every now and again. The before and after. The transformation post: “Look at this big slob, that was me.”
It’s easy to get lost in the past, and with all the rhetoric around how far we’ve come in the lead-up to AZ Alkmaar’s visit, I’m glad we enjoyed the occasion for what it was – a tribute to the hard work and dedication over the last few years, but more importantly, a celebration of the present.
With a much-changed lineup from Saturday’s game against Arsenal, it appeared as though Régis Le Bris was by no means overawed by the prospect of visitors from the continent.
After a raucous reception, with a pre-match firework display to boot, the opening exchanges were a little nervy, as an Enzo Le Fée stray pass allowed AZ an early opportunity.
Surviving the initial scare, it took us some time to adjust. AZ were reluctant to commit bodies forward, instead requiring us to draw them out. As we grew into the game, Kevin Danso’s audacious effort tested the goalkeeper, who was forced into tipping it over his bar, before Le Fée was denied by the post.
Le Fée found himself in amongst it once again, this time, bulging the side-netting with a stinging strike. With the first-half ending goalless, there were certainly positive signs, but like against Arsenal, we were guilty of overplaying it in the final third.
AZ were no slouches, and sit joint top of the Eredivisie for a reason. Lee Roy-Echteld’s side were a well-drilled, defensively organised outfit.
Our visitors started the second half with more vigour and intensity, overloading the midfield in the press, and stretching play in the transition, as their 10, Kees Smit, caused our defence to break sweat.
Yet, we held firm under increasing AZ pressure, and began to exploit the space in-behind as Isidor lashed a golden chance wide.
But, in the 66th minute, we were awarded a penalty, as Le Fée was brought down inside the box, and after missing from exactly the same spot a mere five days before, our French wizard stepped up and banished the ghost of David Raya to convert, netting the club’s first goal in European competition in 53 years.
While AZ came again, prompting a series of sublime blocks, and another superb save from Roefs, Angulo should have killed the game off moments later, after it looked easier to score. Brobbey’s scintillating run and tee-up was dying to be struck, only for the Ecuadorian to unnecessarily pick his spot, as another goalmouth scramble saw it blocked off the line.
With the the final whistle providing a moment of relief in what were breathless dying embers, the three points were ultimately secured. While this was a result that we deserved, this was so much more than just a game of football, proving to be another historic night on Wearside.
