When I lived in London, for a couple of years a good proportion of my disposable income went on travel to make the most of my season ticket at the Stadium of Light. I bought it in the wave of optimism of the Stewart Donald takeover and maintained it through COVID and the League One years. When we finally made it out of the third tier, I found the number of midweek games made it impossible for me to justify keeping it.
Since then, I watch as many matches as possible on TV, but my visits to the Stadium
of Light are limited to a few a year. As a result, these momentous years in our history seem like they have come to me in snapshots.
The uneasy atmosphere as we lost 1-0 to Cardiff under Mowbray.
The outrage of losing 3-0 to Coventry in Beale’s first game.
The sense that we might just be on to something as we saw out a 2-1 victory against Cardiff under Régis.
Even more striking, though, is what you don’t get from the television: what is happening outside the stadium. If you go to most games, as I suspect many readers do, changes probably register when they are brand new but soon become part of the routine. For the occasional visitor, the evolution of the area around the ground is nothing short of extraordinary every time you return.
There is a cliché about Sunderland being a city that lives on football, but it felt like, as our fortunes on the pitch improved, the city itself was coming to life. With the Colliery Tavern at one end and Sheepfolds at the other, there is now a great atmosphere whichever direction you approach the stadium from. The new bridge has created a new routine for many, bringing new pubs and restaurants to a city centre that has felt dead for decades.
Most importantly for the club, the Stadium of Light has finally started to feel like a home. My first match was the Stadium of Light’s opening game against Ajax, so I never got to experience Roker Park. It is all I have ever known, and has always been special to me. That never stopped me from finding it difficult to tell it apart from the Riverside in Middlesbrough, or St Mary’s in Southampton at certain angles, unless I squinted.
Gradually, the touches over the past couple of seasons have combined to make me understand what home should feel like. Arguably, they are simple touches and should have been done before, but the naming of the West Stand was a masterstroke, and, combined with the Sunderland AFC lettering and “Welcome to Sunderland” sign added later last season, suddenly my last visit to the stadium felt unmistakeably and distinctly Sunderland (and not just because we ended up losing in embarrassing fashion to Nottingham Forest).
On that note, I’m going to be coming down from Edinburgh to see us against Fulham on Sunday. I’m already looking forward to seeing the city again and seeing old friends. I might even wander over to see how Legend’s Way is developing.
I know people are having problems with the club over the farcical issues with the club’s website and accounts system, moving people’s seats around, and the hospitality changes. But as someone forced to see the forest from afar rather than among the trees, please take it from me – overall, things are looking pretty good.
I just wish I hadn’t given up my season ticket because I’ve had to join the waiting list.
