On this day in 2021, Sunderland rose to the top of League One after destroying Cheltenham Town 5-0 at the Stadium of Light, whilst also securing our sixth straight home win of the season. Here's Sobs' match report from that day.
For only the second time in their lives, and the first time in the league, Cheltenham came to town – and Sunderland went to town on them, quite literally. Three up by the break, we added another two after it and even spent the final minutes with only ten men on the field after Broadhead took a knock and went for a cuppa. The most comprehensive victory for many a season and dare I say it, vaguely reminiscent of the turn of the century when we popped in performances like this on a regular basis. Five could quite easily have been ten, and that’s no exaggeration.
It being a night game, there was only time for a quick meet-up with young Liam in the Vaux brewery tap to discuss the football matters of the week. He’d never seen Roger Hunt play, I might have done twice or so, but he still acknowledged the loss to the game Hunt’s passing represented. News of Steven Taylor’s retirement, ‘cos travelling during Covid is a bit of a pain, apparently, had the Chronicle describing him as a “cult hero”, with one of the worst typos in journalism. I don’t think even the most ardent mag would regard that bag of wind as a hero of any kind... but hey, back to us, and the important event of the day.
LJ announced a team that was something we’d have expected for a cup tie, not a league game, but those of us who’d witnessed the goings-on at Wigan weren’t disappointed or unduly worried.
Hoffmann
Winchester Wright Flanagan Huggins
O’Nien Evans
McGeady Broadhead O’Brien
Stewart
...and a canny bench of Burge, Pritchard, Dajaku, Alves, Embleton, Taylor, and Neil – plenty there to change things in a positive manner if we need to. The absence of Cirkin and Doyle gave Huggins (doncha just want to cuddle him with that name?) a chance to reprise his energetic game, and Wright the chance to show he was more than a ten-minute shore-up chap. On a damp and chilly evening, Cheltenham started proceedings kicking north in what was basically a 5-5 formation with a higher line than the one Ross Stewart’s mam drew when she measured him against the yard wall. I did wonder what havoc they’d create with that set-up, but they simply didn’t bother getting stuck into us. Well, apart from a bit of a late one on Stewart on halfway as he received the ball from a failed Cheltenham attack. To be fair, they sort of tried to have a go in the opening minutes, and I say “tried to” with a lot of charity, so it didn’t take us long to realise that this could be a bit of a battering for the Chelts (if that’s what they’re known as). There was a brave bunch of them up in the North Stand who tried to encourage their heroes to victory, or at least a draw, but that was never going to happen. Stewart scared the life out of them, and Broadhead held the ball up as if he had glue on his boots, helping Huggins away on what is fast becoming a trademark burst down the wing to find Evans. Unfortunately, the ball forwards needed Stewart rather than O’9 as the target, and the chance was gone.
Not for the first time (broken record again, sorry) we got nothing when Stewart was wrestled to the ground as he chased a through ball, then the linesman on our right gave three offsides that were equally as dodgy as each other. Was his arm stuck in the air with that flag in it, or was he simply useless? You decide. Anyway, we nearly made the most of their insistence on keeping ten players near the halfway line when Luke found the space to move forward and bang in a shot that hit a defender. A free soon after that was hit too far forward for O’Brien to reach, but things were looking good in the opening ten minutes. Despite this, the normal, and perfectly understandable SAFC pessimism was just under the surface as we roared the Lads on, praying that we’d break through before too long.
Which we did. Broadhead latched on to a great ball from Winch, leaving the defence in his wake but being forced wide by the keeper, and his low cut-back to Stewart was fired against a defensive boot and off the line. From the corner, on our left, Wright rose like an Australian central defender to flash a header across the goal and in. Whoop whoop! Only ten minutes gone, and a goal in the bag. Cheltenham then realised that all they were going to get playing the way they had been was a great big can of whup-ass, so they had a bit of go and shifted bodies around to mop up some of our through balls and win a corner. Mattie Pollock, son of Boro’s Jamie – a Teesside Steve Bruce if ever there was one – got his head to it but managed no more than the disturbance of a few coffee cups in the Black Cats Bar. Noting that bit of danger, we sorted things out and won some corners of our own, and we were nearly two up when Winesta tried a curly-wifter that curled and wifted just a bit too much, going narrowly wide of the goal. The crowd were enjoying things, as our positivity shone through and players filled in the spaces they were supposed to. On about 27 minutes, we got it to O’B and he found Winch advancing down the right. Once far enough up the field, he duly hit it low to Broadhead, who cleverly stepped over it to give the Loch Ness Drogba all the time in the world to pick his spot and double our advantage. The crowd were really enjoying things, and a goal looked likely every time we got anywhere near the Roker End. Stewart could only poke his effort over the bar when Geads picked him out from the right, then a higher cross from Geads was nodded just too high. Surely another would come with this sort of pressure, and the crowd lapped it up.
On forty or so, Evans broke up an attack and found Broadhead, who plonked it over a clearly struggling fullback for Geads to roll into the path of Stewart for his second “pick your spot” moment of the evening. 3-0, and there were still at least five to go before the break, with folks desperately trying to get the stadium WiFi to allow them access to their online bookie to back Ross for a hat-trick. It should really have happened just before the two added minutes, but the keeper saved well and a defender got in the way of the follow-up effort from Geads. There was still time for Broadhead to shoot narrowly wide before the whistle went and the Cheltenham manager then had the unenviable job of stopping any of his players from running over to the Colliery Tavern and disappearing in a haze of Double Maxim rather than appear for the second half.
We reckoned the visitors needed to change something, which they did, replacing Pollock with May – and it did make a difference, as the sub actually hit Hoffmann with a shot from distance. A much better save was forced from the Cheltenham keeper when O’B found Broadhead, and our Everton loanee fired into the side netting a couple of minutes later.
On 55, Flan made way for Alves, either to save Tom picking up an unnecessary yellow or to give Alves some time on the pitch. I’ll opt for the latter, as Cheltenham weren’t doing anything to suggest we’d get anywhere near desperate at the back. We broke down the left, and got it to Stewart, who cleverly knocked it past his marker but decided not to shoot, and his pass was hoofed away by a grateful defender. We picked that one up and drove forward again, this time with O’B hitting a fine shot that needed touching over the bar. At three goals to the good, LJ brought on Dajaku for Geads and he immediately took up position on the right wing. A few bursts forward showed he was up for increasing our lead, and he helped get the ball forward for us to get a shot away from an unexpected quarter, Corry Evans of all people hitting a beaut that deserved better than flying wide from distance. Haway Lads, kill them off a bit more. Make them deader.
Lovely to watch, though. We refused to take our foot off either the accelerator or the Cheltenham throat, pressing forward to win a corner on 65. It sailed over virtually everybody in the box, landing with Evans, who played it into what tiny bit of space there was in the box – just in front of O’9, and Luke smacked it firmly and precisely into the corner of the net to send us up in the air for the fourth time. Lovely goal, lovely feeling, and it was repeated barely a minute later when Broadhead created all sorts of panic in the Cheltenham box before being tackled, with the ball running nicely for Dajaku to see the goal at his mercy, and he did exactly what Luke had done seconds before, steering a crisp left-footed finish into the corner. Get in, Lad – that’s what you get for following instructions.
With fifteen to go, and shortly after Cheltenham had replaced Perry and Joseph with Barkers and Norton (they make lovely brogues) LJ buggered up my chances of winning any money on a Stewart hat-trick by replacing him with the diminutive Pritchard – no high ones into the box, Lads. Sort of understandably, and despite Pritch flying around like a demented wasp, we relaxed and passed it around with possession in mind rather than another goal. Alves won’t have had many easier games, and knocked it about like Phil Babb (in my wildest dreams, but he does move rather like our former player). Broadhead managed to get hurt, and without thinking that he could make on it was concussion and thus allow a fourth substitution, he went for a lie down so that we saw out the final minutes a man down. There was still time for O’B to work a great opportunity on the edge of the box, but with us ready to celebrate for the sixth time, his effort flew a foot over the top. The announcement of three added minutes were met with groans from the visiting players, several of whom could be seen mouthing to the ref “please, make it go away” - and then it did.
Five nowt. Five bloody nowt, and well worth every one of those well-taken goals in a game which could have brought so many more - not that I’m complaining. Only the other day, LJ said something along the lines of “somebody’s going to get walloped sooner or later.” Well, it was sooner, that somebody was Cheltenham, and long may that sort of performance and attitude continue. Several changes to the line-up, some enforced, some out of choice, and none of them reflecting a dip in performance in previous games – just an example, as was Wigan in the cup, that we have strong squad. As if to make the night even better, Wigan lost (thanks to Max for the opening OG), as did Portsmouth and Lincoln, and MK Dons and Plymouth only drew, all of which means that we are now three points clear of Wigan, MKD, and Plymouth. I know it’s very early days yet, but I’d rather be top than anywhere else.
Man of the Match? Not a dodgy showing anywhere in our side tonight, with Stewart as rampant as someone his size can be and Evans as quietly effective as ever. O’9 clearly loves playing football more than anyone else in the world has ever done, and that attitude rubs off on his marras. Broadhead, though, holds things up better than Dick Turpin, and looks a very clever player, so he gets my vote.
Onwards and upwards, Lads! Thoroughly enjoyable. Best home stat for three or four yonks? You bet.
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