I’m sure most football fans say this about their own clubs, but there surely can’t be many teams more adept at bringing their supporters back down to Earth than Sunderland AFC.
I must admit that I wasn’t feeling very enthusiastic about this away day from the start. Between last week’s sojourn in the idyllic Portuguese sun and the prospect of next week’s wild adventure in Poland, a Sunday morning trip down to Bournemouth for an early-season six-pointer was hardly welcome. However, the team needs our support
now more than ever, so I banished all thoughts of sacking the game off and reluctantly traipsed down to Waterloo for the early train south.
There was a strong contingent from the London branch on the train for this one, perhaps due to some North East-based fans deciding to sacrifice the trip in favour of European adventures. I felt very smug regaling fellow fans with anecdotes of the Torreense game, and everyone’s thoughts were of the future away days on the continent; we probably wanted to avoid discussing what the ramifications of defeat would be in this one.
Joining some of the lads in the George Tapps, seemingly our go-to haunt for Bournemouth, the bad omens around the day continued when we learned the pool table was out of action, just before the team sheet was announced to much alarm and confusion. No disrespect to Timur Tutierov; he is a cracking prospect and seems like a great lad, but to ask him to lead the line in such a crucial game just days after playing 90 minutes in his full debut for us seemed highly unfair. There was no news of why Brobbey wasn’t included on the bench despite being a substitute in Portugal, and the lack of wingers in the side was a damning indictment of how Le Bris sees his squad.
Taking our seats just in time for the end of another pointless and generic fire show, we kicked off once again in the Elvis kit, attacking the far end. I say attacking the far end, but really, we struggled to lay a glove on the Cherries throughout the entire game. There was an early scare when Bournemouth went through early on, before Keystone Cops defending from our centre-halves saw the home side score one of the easiest headers they’ll ever have. Things went from bad to worse just ten minutes later, when another calamity from Danso and Alderete saw the former reduced to ten men.
We saw just last week against Brighton how teams with a numerical disadvantage can stifle a game, but we were already trailing and morale was in short supply. From then on, the game was mostly a procession for the home side. Mukiele seemed to suffer a nasty injury after a poor tackle from Bournemouth, but he gamely carried on, making him one of the few to emerge from the day with any credit.
The second goal came from another shocking defensive howler, and the game was effectively over as a contest. We have Roefs to thank for preventing the scoreline from becoming much worse. Even the genteel families and retirees in the home end were laughing at us as a pigeon camped out on Bournemouth’s goal-line, and you couldn’t really blame them. The players were sheepish after the final whistle and mostly shunned the away end, whose occupants sang in support of Talbi, who was once again bafflingly snubbed by Le Bris.
Overall, Sunderland were a pale pink parody of the side we were last season. All the fight and resilience had died, the leaders were themselves rudderless, and the sense of harmony between the squad and fanbase seemed to be fracturing. These are very worrying times, and something desperately needs to change quickly if we’re to prevent what should be one of our most memorable seasons in recent memory from turning into a disaster.
