I’ve only missed two Sunderland away games in 2025: the thrilling 3-2 comeback against Middlesbrough, and last week’s victory at Forest, our first away triumph in the Premier League in over eight years. Part of me feels like that’s a sign to pack it in, but the allure of a trip up to my old university town in Manchester was too good to turn down.
After years of trudging along to matches in League One out of a sense of duty rather than with any real excitement, it’s brilliant to finally be able to look
forward to the games themselves, rather than just a day on the beers, and the chance to see the Lads competing at one of the biggest stadiums in the land again was a tantalising prospect.
To say that the previously all-conquering Red Devils have fallen from grace in the last decade is akin to saying that David Coote’s reputation has taken a few knocks in 2025, but they’re still one of the biggest clubs in world football, and without wanting to disrespect Palace or Forest (or Burnley, I suppose), this trip to Old Trafford probably represented the first away day this season that feels like a bona-fide ‘Premier League’ trip.
Thankfully, our early Pendolino from Euston survived the ravages of Storm Amy – is it just me, or do these named storms never seem to hit in midweek or during the international break? There were a good few United fans travelling, making the journey from the capital, as you’d expect given their status as the club of choice for the 90s glory hunter. One of the lads commented that it was nice to have Manchester as the actual destination for an away day, rather than a mere changeover point to a Northern Rail service to Rochdale or Accrington, which was hard to deny.
Manchester remains one of the best cities in the UK, but the inevitable march of gentrification has stripped it of some of its old-school northern charm. Nonetheless, there are still plenty of old-fashioned watering holes to be found for those who seek them, and we took shelter from the rain in The Unicorn, where two bitters and a Peroni came to a very generous £12 (the bulk of the damage naturally coming from the Peroni). The next stop was the Hare and Hounds, where we were joined by a slightly more boisterous group of SAFC fans whose chanting didn’t exactly endear us to the regulars, but we were mostly tolerated owing to it being more of a City fan pub. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, and all that.
After a relatively smooth tram ride to Old Trafford, we faced a lengthy wait to enter the ground thanks to some technical faults with the e-turnstiles. It’s good to see that at least it isn’t just the Stadium of Light that faces these issues, though unlike the so-called Theatre of Dreams, we’ve at least avoided any rodent infestations or leaky roofs. We took our seats just in time for the minute’s silence in memory of the victims of the horrific Heaton Park synagogue attack, before the action got underway. Resplendent in our blue-and-white away kit, Sunderland carved out an early chance for Traoré after some good work down the left from Adingra, but the former was unable to make telling contact.
United started the game with ten times the vigour they’d shown in their defeat to Brentford, and a well-worked move saw Mbeumo cross for Mount to smartly finish and put the home side in front. It was the first time our defence had been breached in the first half this season, and we were keen to see a swift response. Sadly, that didn’t materialise, and Šeško capitalised on some unconvincing defending from a long throw to double the deficit.
We were beginning to fear a drubbing could be on the cards, but thankfully Le Bris had the humility to admit his team selection hadn’t worked out, and we improved significantly after Ballard replaced Adingra in a change of shape. For the first time, we found ourselves on the receiving end of a VAR intervention, as a penalty award was cancelled just before half-time. In hindsight, it was probably the correct decision, and the referee had certainly favoured United in pretty much any 50-50 call, so as soon as he walked to the monitor, we knew it was likely bad news.
Our performance after the break was generally solid, and on another day, we could have made things interesting through Talbi’s late chance or what should’ve been a red card for United’s debutant goalkeeper, but it wasn’t to be, and we left empty-handed. The away end saluted the side’s efforts nonetheless, in another manifestation of the enduring togetherness between squad and fanbase this season.
The journey back to Piccadilly matched the overall vibe of the day, as the rain poured outside, what should’ve been a 15-minute journey took almost an hour, and we were stuck on the tram listening to a United fan with a gravelly Sean Dyche voice incessantly croaking out chants. Still, we’ve been through far worse days than this, and our season won’t be defined by this kind of game anyway. As a slightly pissed but well-meaning Scouser told us in the pub, pointing at our crest, “that badge belongs in the Premier League”. Let’s hope that he’s proven right by May.
