It must have been watching England in the World Cup, beating Croatia, that caused a faint recollection of a story to come to mind. And before any historians sharpen their pencils, I should offer a disclaimer – forgive any inaccuracies. I wouldn’t want the real facts to get in the way of a good story.
The tale begins in 1909, when Sunderland AFC embarked on what was then a remarkable adventure.
Today, football clubs think nothing of hopping on a plane and crossing continents, but in Edwardian England
such journeys were reserved for explorers, merchants and adventurers. Yet Sunderland, one of the giants of the English game, boarded a steamship bound for Argentina. The purpose was to promote football, strengthen ties with the rapidly growing game overseas and carry the name of Sunderland to a country where British influence had helped football flourish.
After weeks at sea, the Sunderland party arrived in Buenos Aires. Football was already taking root across Argentina. Railway workers, dock labourers, businessmen and expatriates had all played their part in spreading the game, and English clubs were spoken of with admiration bordering on reverence.
Among those keen to welcome the visitors was a local side known as Atlético Sunderland.
The Sunderland officials were delighted. Imagine travelling thousands of miles from Wearside only to discover a football club on the far side of the world carrying your name. Invitations were exchanged, hands were shaken and before long the visitors were invited to meet their South American counterparts at their clubhouse.
As they approached the ground, however, one detail immediately caught their attention. The Argentine Sunderland team were training on the field and wearing black-and-white striped shirts and black shorts. The visitors stopped and stared.
These were not just any colours. Black and white belongs to the other team up the road – The Visitors, as they are now known. Sunderland’s fiercest rivals. To generations of Sunderland supporters, those stripes represented the opposition, the enemy across the Tyne, the club against whom every success and failure was measured. To find a club named after Sunderland wearing black and white was almost beyond comprehension.
Eventually, one of the Sunderland officials raised a question.
“We’re honoured you’ve taken our name,” he said, “but why on earth are you playing in black and white?”
The local manager looked genuinely puzzled.
“Because those are Sunderland’s colours.”
Now it was the Englishman’s turn to look confused.
“Well, not quite… in fact, not at all,” he replied.
The Argentine official smiled politely and shook his head.
“No,” he said confidently. “Sunderland play in black and white.”
For a moment, neither side could understand the other. Finally, eager to settle the matter, the local manager invited the visitors into the clubhouse. Inside, he opened a cabinet and carefully removed one of the club’s treasured possessions.
Years earlier, wanting to know more about the famous English club whose name they had adopted, Atlético Sunderland had written to Wearside. The request had travelled across the Atlantic by ship and, in due course, Sunderland AFC had replied. Along with a polite letter in response, they had enclosed a team photograph.
The manager laid the picture proudly on the table.
“There,” he said. “That is Sunderland.”
The English officials gathered around.
Then the Sunderland manager burst out laughing. The mystery was solved in an instant. The photograph was indeed Sunderland AFC. The only problem was that it was a black-and-white photograph.
The Argentine club had never seen Sunderland’s famous red-and-white stripes. The technology of the day could not show them. All they possessed was a monochrome image of eleven footballers standing shoulder to shoulder in varying shades of grey. Quite innocently, they had assumed those shades represented the club’s actual colours.
The room reportedly erupted in laughter.
The Sunderland officials laughed. The Argentine officials laughed. And somewhere between Wearside and Buenos Aires, separated by thousands of miles of ocean, a simple misunderstanding became a football story that would outlive everyone involved.
The Sunderland officials immediately promised that a parcel would be sent to the Argentines, complete with a full set of red-and-white strips.
Whether every detail happened exactly as I’ve told it scarcely matters.
Like all the best football tales, it captures something true about a different age. An age when letters crossed oceans by steamship, when photographs were treasured possessions, and when the name Sunderland carried enough weight to inspire a football club on the far side of the world.
And if the story is true, then one of football’s greatest misunderstandings resulted in a club named after Sunderland accidentally adopting the colours of… well, those who shall not be mentioned. All because a photograph couldn’t yet show red and white.
Some stories are simply too good to worry too much about the facts.
