Sue “Buddah” Smith : The sweetest left foot in the North East!
Before Sunderland Women had an academy to be proud of, before the club became known as a production line for England internationals and before the WSL era and the rising profile of the women’s game, there was Sue ‘Buddah’ Smith.
She was the kind of player whose story lives not in statistics or archived footage but in the memories of those who watched her glide across muddy pitches with a left foot that seemed touched by something otherworldly.
Sue emerged from the Cowgate Kestrels era, a time when
women’s football in the North East survived on stubbornness, community spirit and the sheer refusal of its players to accept that the sport wasn’t meant for them. She played in a world without professional pathways, media coverage and the recognition her talent deserved — yet she played with a grace and confidence that would have stood out in any era.
Those who saw her speak about her left foot with a kind of reverence.
It wasn’t just powerful or accurate — it was expressive. She could bend a ball into impossible spaces, thread passes through crowds and strike from distance with a technique that felt years ahead of its time. During an age when women’s football was still fighting for legitimacy, Smith played with the swagger of someone who knew she belonged on any pitch against any opponent.
When the Kestrels aligned with Sunderland AFC, Smith became one of the first women to wear the red and white in a formal capacity.
It was a moment that symbolised a shift; the merging of grassroots passion with the identity of a club built on working class pride. She carried the Kestrels’ spirit into Sunderland but she also brought something uniquely her own: a sense of artistry and a belief that the women’s game could be beautiful as well as resilient.
Smith wasn’t just a footballer — she was a standard‑setter.
Younger players watched her and realised that such a talent could come from their streets, their schools and their communities. She showed them that the North East didn’t just produce hard workers — it produced artists. She played with a joy that was infectious, a competitiveness that was fierce and a humility that made her beloved by teammates and opponents alike.
Her influence stretched far beyond her playing days.
She became a touchstone for what Sunderland Women would later become: a club built on local talent, pride in the badge and the belief that greatness can grow from modest beginnings. She was a pioneer — not because she sought recognition — but because she played at a time when simply stepping onto the pitch was an act of defiance.
Sue Smith represents the beginning of Sunderland’s story, the spark that lit the fire, the left foot that left a mark on everyone who saw it and the spirit that still echoes through the club today.
“The Leader”: Mel Reay and the forging of a Sunderland identity
As Sunderland Women began to grow into themselves, they needed figures who could bridge the gap between the grassroots spirit of the Kestrels and the ambitions of a club beginning to understand its own potential. Mel Reay became one of those figures — first as a player, then as a coach and ultimately as one of the defining leaders in the club’s modern history.
Reay’s playing career coincided with a period when the women’s game was still fighting for visibility, when commitment meant long nights, cold training sessions and a level of dedication that far outweighed the resources available. She was a forward with intelligence and instinct, but what set her apart was her presence. Even as a young player, she carried herself with a quiet authority; the kind that made teammates look to her in moments of pressure.
She understood the game deeply — not just the technical side, but the emotional landscape that shapes a team.
She knew how to read people, how to steady nerves and how to lift spirits. She was the kind of player who made others feel braver simply by being on the pitch with them, and Sunderland, still finding their footing in the women’s football landscape, needed that kind of leadership.
As the club evolved, so did Reay’s role.
She transitioned into coaching with the same clarity and purpose she’d shown as a player. She became a mentor long before she became a manager, guiding young players, shaping standards and helping to build the culture that would later define Sunderland’s academy. She understood what the club could become because she’d lived its early struggles and its early hopes.
When she eventually took the reins as head coach, it felt less like a new chapter and more like a continuation of a story she had been writing for years. She inherited a club that had been battered by restructures, demotions and the unforgiving realities of the women’s football pyramid. But she also inherited a club with a fierce identity, one she had helped shape.
Reay led with empathy and steel.
She demanded hard work but she also understood the human side of the game. She built teams that reflected the region: honest, relentless, grounded. Under her guidance, Sunderland rediscovered their rhythm. They rebuilt not through shortcuts or spending, but through belief, youth and a return to the values that had always defined them.
Her leadership became the backbone of the club’s rebirth. She steadied the ship during the most turbulent years, guided the team back into the Championship and restored a sense of pride that had been bruised but never broken. She became the embodiment of Sunderland’s resilience — a leader shaped by the club who in turn shaped the club right back.
Reay’s legacy stretches across generations, from her days as a player to her role as the architect of Sunderland’s modern identity. She’s the thread that ties the club’s past to its future; the leader who helped Sunderland understand who they were and what they could be.
Steph Houghton: On-field leadership personified
If the Lasses’ early years were defined by resilience and then by raw talent, the “golden generation” was defined by something rarer still: leadership, and no player embodies that more profoundly than Houghton, the academy graduate who would go on to captain England and become one of the most respected figures in the global game.
Houghton arrived at Sunderland as a teenager with a quiet determination that set her apart.
She wasn’t the loudest voice nor the flashiest talent, but she carried herself with a maturity that made coaches take notice. Even in those early days, there was a steeliness about her; a sense of purpose, a clarity of ambition and a refusal to be anything less than exceptional.
Sunderland nurtured her.
They gave her responsibility, trusted her with minutes and allowed her to grow into her own authority. She thrived in the environment, developing into a player whose intelligence, composure and versatility made her invaluable. Whether she played in midfield, at full back or eventually at centre half, she brought the same qualities: calmness, discipline, and an unwavering commitment to the team.
Her rise wasn’t meteoric — it was methodical.
She built her career the way Sunderland build their players, through graft, humility and a deep understanding of the game. When she moved on — first to Leeds, Arsenal and then Manchester City — it wasn’t a departure borne of disloyalty but of necessity. The women’s game was becoming increasingly professional and her talent demanded a stage that Sunderland, through no fault of their own, couldn’t yet provide.
However, Houghton remained a Sunderland player at heart.
The values she carried into the England captaincy — resilience, honesty and accountability —were forged in the North East. The leadership she displayed on the biggest stages in guiding England through tournaments and becoming the face of the Lionesses was shaped in the academy where she learned not just how to play, but how to lead.
Houghton’s legacy is monumental.
She became a national icon, a trailblazer and a symbol of what women’s football could be. But her Sunderland legacy is something quieter, deeper and perhaps even more meaningful. She represents the blueprint; the proof that a player from the North East, developed on modest pitches with limited resources, could rise to the very top of the sport.
She’s the embodiment of Sunderland’s “golden generation”: a player whose success reflects the club’s influence far beyond its league position, a reminder that greatness can grow from humble beginnings, and a testament to the power of belief, identity and the North East’s unique footballing spirit.
Beth Mead: “A badge worn with pride”
When Sunderland reached the WSL, they did so with a squad built on youth, belief and identity. Among the players of that era was Mead, a forward whose rise from local prospect to international star became one of the defining stories of the era.
Mead was electric.
She played with a fearlessness that made her a nightmare for defenders. Her pace, movement and finishing carried the unmistakable stamp of Sunderland’s academy. She wasn’t just talented; she was relentless. She chased every ball, fought for every inch and played with a joy that made her impossible not to love.
During the WSL years, Sunderland were often underestimated.
They didn’t have the budgets, facilities or resources of the top clubs, but they had players like Mead, players who refused to be intimidated, who fought for every point and believed they belonged at the highest level.
Mead became the heartbeat of the team.
She scored goals that defied logic, carried the team through difficult moments and represented the club with pride. Her move to Arsenal was another bittersweet moment and a reminder of Sunderland’s place in the footballing ecosystem, but like Houghton, her success became part of Sunderland’s legacy.
Mead represents the era during which Sunderland proved they could compete with the best — not through money or infrastructure, but through heart, identity and belief.
Keira Ramshaw: An unsung hero and the soul of the Lasses
Every club has players whose influence can’t be measured in goals or assists.
Sunderland’s history is full of them; players who shaped the culture, held the dressing room together and created an environment where others could thrive — and Ramshaw is the embodiment of that spirit.
Ramshaw joined Sunderland as a teenager and stayed for more than a decade. She lived every era: the rise, the WSL years, the demotion and the rebuild. She was there when the club was flying…and she was there when the club was forced to start again. Through every high and every low, she remained loyal, grounded and fiercely proud to wear the badge.
What makes her story even more remarkable is that she had options, and genuine options at that.
During her peak years, WSL clubs came calling. There was also interest from abroad; opportunities that would’ve offered professional contracts, bigger crowds, better facilities and the kind of financial security that Sunderland simply couldn’t match at the time. For many players, those offers would have been irresistible; for Ramshaw, they were background noise.
She chose Sunderland.
She chose the club that had shaped her, the region that had raised her and the badge that meant more to her than any contract ever could. Even when Sunderland dropped into the third tier — a decision that felt like a punishment for circumstances beyond the players’ control — she stayed, she led and she became the anchor in a moment when the club could easily have unravelled.
Her versatility made her invaluable on the pitch.
She could play multiple positions, adapt to different systems and step into any role the team needed her to. She was reliable, consistent and selfless, but her true influence lay off the pitch.
She was the glue that held the squad together, supporting younger players, lifting spirits after defeats and creating a sense of unity that became essential during the club’s most challenging periods.
When Sunderland were demoted, Ramshaw was one of the players who kept the team grounded.
She reminded them of who they were, what they represented and of the pride that came with wearing the badge. She helped the squad navigate the uncertainty, the frustration and the sense of injustice. She was a leader without the armband; a mentor without the title.
Her legacy isn’t written in statistics or accolades.
Instead, it’s written in the memories of the players she supported, the culture she helped build and the resilience she helped foster. Ramshaw represents the soul of the club; the quiet strength that’s carried Sunderland through every storm, the loyalty that can’t be bought and the belief that some things matter more than league positions or contracts.
She is Sunderland in its purest form.
“The ties that bind”
In Smith, Reay, Houghton, Mead and Ramshaw, we see a single thread that runs through every era of Sunderland Women’s history. It’s not one of wealth or glamour or convenience; instead, it’s one of identity, belonging and a club built not on shortcuts, but on people.
Smith represents the spark; the moment when the women’s game in the North East was held together by passion alone, when talent survived on muddy pitches and borrowed kits, and when belief was the only currency that mattered.
Her left foot that could’ve graced any stadium in the world, yet she gave it to a team that existed because women refused to be told “no”. She represents the the beginning.
Reay, meanwhile, represents the bridge.
A player who understood the emotional heartbeat of the club long before she ever stood on the touchline as head coach. She carried Sunderland through eras of uncertainty, shaping standards, people and belief. She’s the touchstone of continuity and the reminder that leadership isn’t a role, but a responsibility.
Houghton represents the blueprint.
A player who rose from Sunderland’s academy to the England captaincy, carrying the values of the North East onto the biggest stages in world football. She’s proof that greatness can grow from modest beginnings and that the world’s best can come from the same streets and schools as the fans who fill the stands.
Mead represents the fire, and the WSL era distilled into one player: fearless, relentless, joyful. She showed that Sunderland could compete with anyone and that talent forged in the North East could shine against the brightest lights. Her success elsewhere is not a loss — it’s a legacy.
Ramshaw is the soul — the player who stayed when others left, who chose Sunderland over comfort, over money, over opportunity. The player who held the dressing room together and carried the badge through storms that would have broken lesser clubs. She’s the embodiment of everything Sunderland stands for: loyalty, resilience and pride.
Together, they form a tapestry of what Sunderland Women truly is. A club built on people who care, shaped by players who gave more than they ever received and whose history isn’t measured in trophies, but in character.
Sunderland’s story has never been straightforward. It’s been shaped by injustice, setbacks and the unforgiving realities of a sport that hasn’t always valued the right things. But it’s also been shaped by brilliance, leadership, loyalty and the kind of talent that changes the game.
These five women, and the countless others who stood beside them, built something that can’t be bought, replicated and that belongs to the North East in a way no other club can claim.
They built Sunderland.
And the future — whatever it holds — will always carry their fingerprints.
