DESTINY DAY(S) 

As I walked from my parked car to Kings Cross, I couldn’t help realising how laid back I was about the day ahead.   After all, final day cliff-hangers are far too common for  Sunderland and I’ve attended so many I’ve become immune to disappointment.   And some of my experiences sailed across my mind.

I’m not sure if transistor radios had been invented in 1958 but, if they had, I didn’t have one.  So, if not at home for any reason, the news of our away results was often revealed only by purchase of the Football Echo.  And so, on 26^th April 1958, I sat in the window of Binns Café, after a fish and chips tea, awaiting the Echo delivery van throwing a bundle of papers onto the pavement outside the Town Hall.  This was the signal to leave the café, buy the paper and get the bus home.  But wait, the papers on sale weren’t pink, perhaps this was just another edition of the normal paper? Sadly not, this edition had been printed on white paper with a black edge.  We were relegated for the first time in our history.

By 1962 I was working in London and our final crucial game was away to Swansea.    The only economical way of attending necessitated a coach pick-up outside Shepherds Bush Odeon at 11.30 on Friday evening and an overnight journey in each direction. (Oh to be young enough to tolerate such suffering!)   It was, however, significant in my not being the only Sunderland supporter on board and new relationships emerged which were eventually to lead to the London Branch’s formation.   On the outward journey, I recall a stop in the middle of nowhere about 3.00 a.m., a light going on in a roadside cottage and a figure emerging.   No motorway service areas in those days - we were changing drivers!   The same happened on the reverse trip.   I remember far less about the game itself!   I do though remember us seeing George Herd and some of the players while wandering around Swansea on Saturday morning and wishing them luck.   It didn’t work!   Alighting from the team coach, they all looked scared stiff.   Cloughie put us ahead but we couldn’t hold on and the 1-1 draw meant Orient were promoted ahead of us.

The next season was even crueller as we had to await the result of Chelsea’s home game against Portsmouth the Wednesday after our final game.   I, and several other exiles, became Pompey fans for the evening but, despite our efforts, the South coast club lost 7-0 and we were pipped from promotion on goal average by the London club.

I have to be honest and admit my memory of the final game in 1970 is a complete blank.   The records show we lost at home 0-1 to Liverpool when a victory would have saved us from another relegation.   I was almost certainly there but can’t remember a thing.   Perhaps failure on such days was becoming too frequent to be identifiable?

1977 brought the infamous “Jimmy Hill game”.   I had a work commitment I couldn’t delegate so went to Euston during my lunch hour to collect my Branch travel ticket and wish fellow members on their way.   Back to work, do what I had to do, then back to Euston for the 4.00 train just getting to Goodison for kick off.   You all know the rest of the story - though a win would of course had made events at Coventry immaterial.   We lost 0-2 and then had to wait 15 minutes knowing that a goal for either side at Highfield Road would save us.   It’s impossible to prove that was never going to happen but the draw there sent us down amid national sympathy.   All Coventry got was a letter reprimanding them for their “time shift”.   Not surprising then that Jimmy Hill was reminded of this at Craven Cottage this season.

Two years later it was again final day frustration – this time at Wrexham – but at least we did what we had to do and won.   We thought we were promoted but were awaiting the Notts. County v. Stoke result and County were winning.   Sadly, Stoke, managed then by Alan Durban, equalized in the last minute and gained promotion at our expense.   We again had wait till the last game for promotion in 1980 but were to play West Ham just after they’d won the Cup.   Despite having a reputation for falling at the final hurdle, this one was less tense and we won 2-0, when a draw would have been enough.

1982 brought another cliff-hanger with the need to win the final home game against Manchester City to secure our status.   Records show we won 1-0 though I can’t recall how tense it was.   (I was certainly there as I have the match programme.)   Similarly in 1986, now in Division Two, we needed to win our last game at home to Stoke to avoid the drop to Division Three.   A 2-0 win then deferred that fate though by just one year.   We failed to win our final home game against Barnsley, then again won our home play-off against Gillingham but lost on the away goals rule.                                                                               

Our somewhat fortunate promotion in 1990, as the result of Swindon’s indiscretions, proved to be short-lived and a year later we were all at Maine Road with fingers crossed we would survive an early return to the second tier.   Early news that Harford (then at Derby) had scored in Luton’s game brought elation from our fans, only to be squashed when we found it was an own goal.   We lost 2-3 but the scenes at the end in adulation to Denis Smith were as memorable as they were pivotal, in that they persuaded him not to join Stoke as manager.

In 1993 we again escaped by the skin of our teeth, this time to a second stint in the third tier.   We needed to beat Notts. County away in our final game and the memory of how rubbish we were remains to this day.   At the final whistle we awaited results elsewhere and learned to our relief that Cambridge United had lost and saved us from the drop.

Having gained promotion in 1996 to what was by now the Premier League we were again to suffer final day agony and a quick demotion.   And again Coventry played a part!    A draw at Selhurst Park (which was then Wimbledon’s pied-a-terre) would have saved us but we lost 1-0.   But surely Coventry wouldn’t win at Tottenham and surely their game wouldn’t finish 15 minutes after ours?   It did and they did and we were down again.

Since then it’s been more or less free from anxiety (the 15 and 19 points season’s meant no last day nervousness) but you can perhaps see why I was approaching Sunday in a “been here before” frame of mind.   If we go down we aren’t good enough and we shouldn’t be having to rely on others.   That said, there was an almost universal expectation that we wouldn’t beat Chelsea, backed by a large majority who thought it extremely unlikely that both Hull and Newcastle would win their games.   I wasn’t so sure – this is Sunderland and we shouldn’t ever expect the expected.   My score to date though was 9-3 against survival so the Law of Averages had some catching up to do!

Our train was the fullest it has ever been – and though many travellers were Chelsea supporters they were by no means the majority.   Grand Central have had a difficult beginning but they have been very good to us and, with reported problems with the NatEx East Coast franchise, their ongoing development is important.   The mood on the train was surprisingly upbeat with none of the Billox Challenge entries having us relegated.   I then had a call from my prospective lunch companion, Anders, to say his train from Aberdeen had been cancelled.    Was this an omen?

Sunday games require a change to the normal routine.   Buses to visit relatives are less frequent, pubs are fuller as locals with no interest in football still expect their usual seat and their Roast Beef and Yorkshire, and Greggs opposite the station isn’t still open after the game to provide return journey refreshment.   So with Anders still struggling to escape Scotland on a Cross Country train, it was the newly opened Baker Street on High Street West for lunch and pint, and Tesco Metro for sarnies.   On then to Black Cat House to deliver the club’s copies of the previous issue of WDS, a brief chat en route to Guardian journalist Louise Taylor, and on to the Supporters’ Association office for match day magazine, ALS and chat.

Chelsea’s provision of a free charter train added to the atmosphere in a respectably filled stadium and our fans were clearly in a mood for support not criticism.  From my seat behind the Directors’ Box it was good to identify the presence of Ellis Short, soon to be joined by his wife and son, the latter having been one of the Sunderland mascots.  A reassuring sign of his commitment.

It is never easy to know whether one of the top sides playing against us are in idling mode and could step up a gear if needed but our performance was creditable.   Chelsea were passing us off the park but our defence was solid and largely keeping the visitors out of shooting range.   (Or not as the second half proved.)    But the main stimuli to crowd excitement were provided in Humberside and Birmingham as Man. Utd. and Aston Villa cast our safety nets by scoring.   What chance do players have in saying “I don’t want to know what’s happening elsewhere, it’ll affect my concentration”?!   Half time came, accompanied by the message, from a reliable source, “Be sure to be listening to the radio at 6 o’clock after the game when the club will be making an announcement”.   Interesting!   Was this the rumoured Short takeover?

Despite their two superb goals, we largely kept Chelsea at bay and the 2-3 result was a credit to our perseverance.   But it was what was happening elsewhere which mattered.   Two goals each by Hull and Newcastle were now needed to relegate us and the longer their games went on the odds on that reduced.   But the fat lady wouldn’t sing until those final whistles sounded and I was required to relay to those around me the news from Radio Newcastle in one ear and Five Live in the other how many minutes stoppage time was being played at the KC Stadium and Villa Park.   Relatives viewing at home sending mobile phone messages to those in the stadium are much more effective than radios nowadays but my punch of the air and the eruption from the stadium were pretty well simultaneous.   We were safe – again! 

The platform of Sunderland Central brought the news not of a Short takeover but Sbragia’s resignation.   A dignified withdrawal which added to the satisfaction of the day, creating the opportunity for a fresh approach to the Premier League membership we’d just secured.    As can be imagined, the return journey was “lively” though repetitive rejoicing at Newcastle’s expense was not entirely appropriate.   We should be thankful to them for being worse than we were!

So my score is now 9-4. I wonder how many more of these days, I’m going to have to suffer? Over to you Niall!

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