As “biggest game of the season” goes, this one is right up there with the best of them at SAFC. It’s been apparent for some time that you have to run to stand still in the Prem, and this season has proved that beyond doubt. With the likes of Jones, Malbranque, Cisse, Ferdinand, and Gordon (no disrespect to the other Lads, mind) in the squad, you’d have been forgiven for thinking, as many of us did, that survival was not going to be a problem.

This is Sunderland, this is SAFC. That’s not the way it happens.

After our bus on the way back from the match last week exploded with joy as Stoke scored, the Station was a mixture of disappointed Mackems and cheering, loyal-since-birth (my arse) mags. Nearly, Stoke, but not quite. Still six games in which we have to stay above the Tynesiders, which will mean safety simply because the Prem will find a hidden bye-law that prevents the Geordie Nation from ever being relegated. Add to that the fact that Hull have gone from being the early season breath of fresh air new boys to the predicted bunch of knackers, and the light at the end of the tunnel is still very much on.

The Durham Challenge Cup on Monday at West Auckland saw Billingham Sinners kick lumps out of Durham and win the trophy as the crowd basked in the sunshine, and it had been such a pleasant time (weather-wise) that I decided to go back the following evening to watch West play. Thankfully, I couldn’t be bothered, so I wasted two hours of my life watching Chelsea and Liverpool. If ever that fool Scudamore feels the need to defend the fact that half of the team in the European Cup quarter finals are English, he should just tell the football world to watch that game and ask if any other country should produce such a contest. From the majesty of that game it was back to Hetton on Thursday for Sunderland Ladies against the Mag Slags. Having puzzled their opponents for most of the first half, Sunderland went ahead when Villa Dave’s daughter Nat dived amongst the feet to head home, and a victory, and ,ore goals, looked very much on the cards. Trust the mags to spoil it with a cracking 35 yard lob over the keeper, and with a minute of injury time gone, the lights at the Welfare did what they tend to do, and went out. Twenty minutes later they came back on, the last sixty seconds was played, and Sunderland now need to win all of their remaining games to get promoted. The next is at Hetton tomorrow, (Sunday), so get yersel along and give them your support.

Following the good news from Stan that he’d negotiated the extra night in Southampton for the Portsmouth game (watch F***9ng Setanta change it again. They’re getting the bill anyway), it was off to the Gala, Durham, to watch West Auckland win the World Cup 100 years ago. Great night out, great play, get yersel there if you’ve got time. As long as you don’t mind being referred to as a Nancy boy if you’re from Bishop.

So to the main event. Our sixth or seven consecutive 3pm Saturday kick-off, which must surely be a Prem record. They started with Killa, we started with...

Gordon
Bardsley Dav Ferdy Collins
Carlos Teemu Leadbitter Reid
Jones Cisse

A big crowd, and a big crowd that was up for the game. With a win needed by both sides, it was no surprise that the match got off to a sharp start, with the ball moving quickly across the pitch. Gordon was called upon to make a good punch, then Leadbitter broke through but found the keeper rather than Jones or Cisse. A throw in produced a goalmouth scramble with the ball ending up in the centre circle rather than the back of the net. Teemu won the ball and fed Cisse, but Djib was brought down and Leadbitter fired the free-kick against the wall from 25 yards. Edwards battled well to win the ball, and a foul on Bardsley produced a corner on our left. This produced yet another foul on Edwards – only sixteen minutes gone, and we were complaining about the amount of fouls committed by Hull – but the ball into the box didn’t bring any joy.

With Phil Brown (rapidly going from Shields hero to twisty sod, complete with silly suntan) moaning about everything, even when his team’s over physical approach gave away yet another free to Sunderland, Ferdy gave away a free with a silly push, but Hull without Dean Windass are like Dracula without his teeth – scary from a distance but funnily crap up close. Jones and Carlos played in well together but the keeper again got there first when it mattered, and Dav got in a telling tackle when Hull broke. There were a couple more moments of Jones/Edwards interplay, but just when it looked like we wouldn’t be bothering the scoreboard man, Carlos took a corner, and when it eventually arrived at the back post, there was the man with the tattoos to knock the ball into the net, right on 45 minutes. A good time to score a goal, as they say in Match of the Day land, Brian.

Overall, a poor quality first half, but one we deserved to be in front from. During the break, the bairns on the pitch gave us a great version of the Jones/Cisse dance thingy, Dick Malone did the draw, then we were off again with no changes for either side.

Within seconds, Cisse found the space to fire in a typically audacious shot that came off the keeper’s feet, then he and Jones played well between them to get Reid in a decent position but when his cross found Jones there was a debatable offside decision. Jones was adjudged to have handled the ball in the box, not the first questionable decision by the ref, and then Reid found Collins and we won a corner. Leadbitter played it short to Reid, and the cross found the head of Jones. Nice, but the ball went the wrong side of the post when a second goal would have been both deserved and welcome. A spell of decent football ended with yet another foul by number six (why the blue/grey/green shirts, Hull? It only meant that we couldn’t see you, and the ref had to wear your usual colours) on Teemu, who’d done well as anchor-man, then they had a wee bit of the game but without Windass couldn’t hit the target. Good play between Cisse, Reid, and Leadbitter ended when Reid chipped over the keeper and the bar. Carlos broke through but stopped and found neither Jones nor Cisse when we had a man advantage, which is about when we realised that the second goal wasn’t coming.

Reid and Carlos made way for Richardson and Steeeeeeeed, and we seemed happy to hang on to the one goal that we had. There were chances for a seconds, most notably when Murphy, on for Cisse, cut back inside and thumped one off the post. The four added minutes brought nothing else goals-wise, although we did pile forward.

To be fair, 2-0 would have been about right, but I’ll take the three points, thank you very much. Far from pretty, not really convincing, but good enough on the day. I think that shags up Hull’s season. As long as there are three teams below us come the end of May, I’ll be sort of happy.

Man of the Match? Jones did great defensive work as well as a decent shift up front, and Teemu was again quietly effective, while Leadbitter had his tackling boots on. Despite all that, and another captain’s display from Bardsley, I’ll give it to no-nonsense Danny Collins.

Keep the Faith

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