For a long time, being an American Sunderland supporter was a solitary existence.
Nobody I’d ever met knew what a Super Kev, a Stadium of Light or an Accrington Stanley was. Nobody I’d ever met understood what a great escape or a relegation felt like.
I was alone. Or at least I thought I was.
That changed three years ago during the club’s 2023 US tour stops in San Antonio, Texas, and Albuquerque, New Mexico, where I’ve lived since 2010.
I shared a table with Steve and Paul Dean and was asked to explain
why in God’s name I chose to support Sunderland voluntarily.
I talked to an almost bizarrely honest Tony Mowbray, who shared his real feelings about Joe Gelhardt, Patrick Roberts, Pierre Ekwah, the front office and spoke in glowing terms about then 16-year-old Matty Young.
I got my 2016-2017 away kit signed by the whole team — only eight of whom are still under contract — and took photos with several players.
I learned what “Ha’way the Lads” is actually supposed to sound like.
I took shots at a piano bar with supporters from all over who couldn’t bribe the musicians enough to play “Wise Men Say”.
I got to see Chris Rigg and, as I thought at the time, soon-to-be club legends Luis Hemir and Jewison Bennett score goals.
I saw the beginning of the end of Lynden Gooch’s Sunderland career.
I was offered a bucket hat straight off a Mackem’s head, but alas it was too small for my gargantuan pate.
I shook hands with and got an autograph from Kyril Louis-Dreyfus, and I took a photo with the architect of our promotion, Kristjaan Speakman.
I learned how much beer English men and women will drink when it’s over 37 degrees.
I learned that we all live in a Gary Rowell world and about The King of Rock ‘n’ Roll.
I got to watch my favourite club play my local club, with my wife in black and yellow and me in red and white.
I saw Hemir and the soon-to-depart Isaac Lihadji score, and Pierre Ekwah (I miss him!) do this:
I connected with fellow Black Cat-loving Burqueños, ex-pats I’d only ever spoken to on Twitter, and Americans who, like me, had fallen in love with Sunderland.
I wasn’t alone anymore.
Three years later, I’m a member of the North American Supporters Association, I’m actively annoying people on Twitter and multiple group chats, I listen to far too many podcasts every day, and I’m a Roker Report contributor.
While I’m gutted that I won’t be able to travel east to see any of the matches on this summer’s tour, I’m thrilled for those who are about to discover they aren’t alone either.
