Games like today cannot be understated. The passion, the raw undiluted energy and the cacophony of noise that erupts from the stands of Derby are like none other. Whilst this may not be men’s football, the animosity, hatred and vitriol between Sunderland Women and Newcastle Women is just as palpable as it is with the men’s.
Last weekend did more than give us three points. It reminded us of what this team looks like when it refuses to shrink. The lasses went down to Portsmouth and produced a performance
that should have blown the scoreline apart. A 1-0 win looks tight on paper, but anyone who watched that match knows it could have been seven or eight. Sunderland controlled every blade of grass. They pressed with purpose. They moved the ball with confidence. They carved Portsmouth open again and again. The only thing missing was the final touch to turn dominance into a demolition.
It was the kind of performance that tells you something deeper than the result ever could. It showed a team that is growing in belief. A team that is starting to trust its own ability. A team that is beginning to play with the authority we have been waiting to see. Portsmouth barely laid a glove on us. They were hanging on. They were relieved every time we missed a chance. They were second best in every department. And when the whistle went, the only frustration was that the scoreline did not reflect the gulf between the sides.
But the important thing is this. Sunderland walked away with a win built on control, hunger and intent. A win that felt like a step forward. A win that showed the lasses are sharpening at exactly the right time.
Meanwhile Newcastle were held to a 0-0 draw with Crystal Palace. A result that looked steady on paper but told a different story when you watched the match unfold. They pushed without conviction. They had spells of possession that led nowhere. They looked frustrated. They looked predictable. They looked like a side that can be rattled if you stand up to them. Palace did not fear them. Palace did not bow to the narrative that Newcastle have tried to build around themselves. Palace showed that Newcastle are not the unstoppable force they want the world to believe they are.
And that contrast sets the stage for today. Sunderland coming off a win that felt earned. Newcastle coming off a draw that felt hollow. Two different moods, two different energies and arguably two different trajectories. All colliding in a derby that already carries enough weight to crush a lesser team.
Because this is not just any derby. This is Sunderland against Newcastle. This is the fixture that tightens your stomach before you even get out of bed. This is the one that makes your heart beat faster long before kick-off. This is the one that drags every emotion to the surface. Pride. Anger. Hope. Defiance. That deep-rooted sense of belonging that only football in this region can create. And today it feels even heavier because of what we saw last weekend when the men went to St James’ Park and took a 2-1 win that felt like a punch through the noise. A win that reminded everyone that Sunderland have always had something Newcastle cannot buy. A win that reminded us that dominance is not built on money or marketing. It is built on identity. And we have always had that.
Now it is the lasses’ turn to carry that fire.
For years, before Newcastle Women were handed their financial boost, this derby belonged to us. We had the upper hand. We had the history and the academy. We had the players who grew up in red and white and understood what it meant to face the black and white shirts. The pride of knowing that our success was built, not bought. Then came their cash injection and suddenly the balance shifted. They climbed into the WSL2 and since then they have taken the last three fixtures. Not because they have been miles better or because they have reinvented the sport. But because in those games, something in us dimmed. Something in our performances lacked the bite and the fury that this rivalry demands.
That has been the most painful part. Not the scorelines or the bragging rights lost. It has been the sense that we did not show who we are. We let them dictate the tone and let them look hungrier. We let them believe they were the rising force. And that cannot happen today.
Because Newcastle’s league position does not tell the full story. They sit third, but their performances have been inconsistent. They have had shaky moments and games where they looked lost. As well as spells where their structure fell apart. They are not the juggernaut they pretend to be. They are a team with money behind them and a narrative built around them, but narratives collapse the moment they meet a side that refuses to play along.
And I genuinely believe that if our lasses play to the level we know they can reach, we win this game. Not out of hope. Out of conviction. Out of belief in the talent we have and out of belief in the identity that runs through this squad. Out of belief in the academy that has produced players who understand this club in a way Newcastle cannot replicate.
Katy Watson. Jessica Brown. Louise Griffiths. Emily Scarr. Players who have grown here. Learned here. Stayed here. They know what it means to wear the shirt and know what this derby means. They are the players who do not need to be told what is at stake because they feel it already.
And look at the bench. Libbi McInnes. Chloe Paxton. Jenny Blench. And the others who have stepped up before them. Niyah Dunbar. Emily Cassap. Ella West. Niamh Boothroyd. Young players with talent and hunger and a connection to the badge that money cannot buy. This is what Sunderland is built on. This is what Newcastle cannot manufacture. This is what gives us something deeper than their investment.
We have heart and we have fight. Now we need to show it where it matters most.
The improvement in performances recently has been clear. Even when results have not always reflected it, the shift in intensity has been obvious. The structure looks stronger. The pressing looks sharper. The belief looks like it is returning. And this is the moment to turn that improvement into something real. This is the moment to take all that progress and pour it into a ninety-minute performance that leaves no doubt about who we are.
Because this is not just a match. This is a must-win. This is three points that matter more than most. This is bragging rights. This is pride. This is the chance to remind them that they are not the centre of the universe. And yes, I will admit it without shame. There is a petty, spiteful, deeply satisfying part of me that wants to derail their promotion push. They sit third. Charlton are running away with first. The only automatic promotion spot left is second. Third place means a play-off against the bottom of the WSL. It is tight at the top. Every point matters. And I would love nothing more than to watch their plans wobble because of us.
They have spent the season talking about ambition. About rising. About climbing. About becoming a powerhouse. And maybe they will. Maybe the money will take them where they want to go. But not today. Not in our derby. Not in our house.
Because this rivalry is not something outsiders understand. People who are not from here look at the fixture and think it is just another game. They see the names and shrug. They do not feel the history. They do not feel the tension. They do not feel the way this region breathes football. They do not feel the way this derby cuts through everything else. They do not understand that this is not just about points. It is about identity. It is about belonging. It is about the right to walk into work on Monday with your head held high. It is about the right to say that your club, your colours, your community stood taller.
And for the players, I hope they feel that. I hope they understand that this is not a soft rivalry. This is not a polite occasion. This is not a friendly. This is a derby that carries the same heat as the men’s. The same passion. The same fury. The same stakes. It matters to us. It matters deeply. It matters in ways that cannot be explained to anyone who has not lived it.
This is a fixture that shapes memories. A fixture that shapes seasons. A fixture that shapes how you feel about your club long after the final whistle. It is the kind of match that can lift a team or break one. It is the kind of match that can ignite a run of form or expose a lack of belief. It is the kind of match that demands everything from every player on the pitch.
And I want our players to feel that weight without being crushed by it. I want them to feel the fire without losing their heads. I want them to feel the pride without letting it turn into panic. I want them to step onto that pitch knowing that they carry the hopes of a fanbase that has lived through every high and every low and still stands tall.
I want them to know that we believe in them. That we trust them. That we know what they are capable of. That we have seen the improvement. That we have seen the fight returning. That we have seen the spark growing brighter. That we know they can win this game.
Because this is not just about stopping Newcastle. This is about reclaiming something. Reclaiming our identity. Reclaiming our pride. Reclaiming the derby. Reclaiming the feeling that Sunderland do not bow to anyone. Reclaiming the belief that this club, built on community and graft and heart, can stand toe to toe with anyone.
Newcastle can have their money. They can have their PR. They can have their hype. They can have their talk of ambition. But they cannot have our identity. They cannot have our history. They cannot have our academy. They cannot have the connection between our players and our badge. They cannot have the roar of our supporters. They cannot have the fire that burns in this club.
And today is the day to show that.
Today is the day to remind them that money cannot buy everything. Today is the day to remind them that derbies are not won by budgets. Today is the day to remind them that Sunderland do not roll over. Today is the day to remind them that this rivalry belongs to us as much as it ever has.
So to the lasses. Step onto that pitch with your heads high. Play with courage. Play with belief. Play with the fire that has been growing inside you. Fight for every ball. Fight for every moment. Fight for the badge. Fight for the supporters. Fight for yourselves.
This is your moment. This is our moment. This is the derby. This is Sunderland.
Haway the Lasses, man!
