James Hodgson

@ALS_Fanzine The game is so different that the comparison is of little meaning. After the 0-0 at Palace early season, which was the first game I could attend, I thought that was the best group of players I had ever seen at Sunderland. As exciting as Reid’s team? No.

If you were lucky/old enough to experience both, is this current RLB SAFC side better than the Peter Reid team with Quinn and Phillips?

Peter Beardsley - 'I thought I'd tell you some jokes...' #10YearsOfMince

@sambillings Shocker

How have Sunderland not have a pen there… 🤣

@WiseMenSayPod Just a nailed on penalty. Clear and obvious.

The foul on Le Fee is identical to the foul on Xhaka, both in the space of 30 seconds. Difference is one is in the box, one is outside. Honestly, why are these different?

@CWeatherspoon_ So think of it like invoice discounting in any other business.

#SAFC have brought forward four months' worth - covering January through April - of Premier League TV money via Australian lender Macquarie Macquarie provides a little less money up front; #SAFC hand over PL payments when they land. Difference is Macquarie's cut (i.e. interest)

@WIEfanzine At least they’re decisive Dave!

This sums up our club at the moment. We must be the laughing stock of the non league football world. There can’t be many interim managers that last less than 48 hours and don’t take a footstep into the dugout. Even so, good luck Rod.

For those who watched on as we lost the most popular manager of a generation to the England job, only for him to get sacked after just one game. For those who watched us replace him with a manager who never wanted to be here, never respected the football club, and told us we were in a relegation battle after just two games. For those who had to watch Jack Rodwell (or, not watch Jack Rodwell as he sat on the sidelines earning seventy grand a week), Papy Djilobodji, Joleon Lescott, Donald Love, Didier Ndong, Darron Gibson, Adnan Januzaj, and co. plunge us to relegation. That Victor Anichebe tweet. All the shite with Ricky Alvarez. For those who watched us turn down £24m for Lamine Koné from Everton, only to lose him for nowt a few years later. For those who paid good money to travel and watch us destroyed by Everton, Arsenal, Stoke, Swansea, Burnley, and Southampton. For those who, after a genuinely horrific season, then stood in the stands at Stamford Bridge and watched our club take part in a celebration of John Terry’s career, going on to lose 5-1, which just capped off an embarrassing and soul-destroying relegation. That was for us. For those who watched the most embarrassing season of our lives documented in living colour on Netflix as we dropped into the third tier of English football. The Celtic pre-season game. “Why am I looking at Ibrahimović at the bottom of this list?” For those who had to stand by and watch as the people trusted to look after our football club just gave up. For those who suffered Martin Bain - “At the moment, the whole outside world thinks Sunderland has nothing to offer”, the end of the Ellis Short reign, and Margaret Byrne. Simon Grayson’s flipchart… and then him getting sacked in the tunnel after a midweek draw with Bolton. For those who suffered the embarrassment of Darron Gibson making national news, not only for gatecrashing a wedding pissed and slagging off the club whilst someone recorded him, but for getting the sack after smashing his and several other cars to pieces as he drove drunk through Fulwell. Brendan Galloway. Lee Camp, Jason Steele. Jason Steele getting sent off for punching the ball ten yards outside his box. That Millwall game where Robbin Ruiter hoyed two into his own net. Marc Wilson. Being so shite that Lewis Grabban was desperate to cut his loan short in January. Jake Clarke-Salter getting sent off practically every time he was on the pitch. James Vaughan cupping his ears to the Sunderland fans after scoring his first goal in about thirty games away at Burton Albion, having done the square root of fuck all in every game prior. Signing Ashley Fletcher out of pure desperation. That fucking shite pinstripe kit. “PAY THE REF!” “Bristanbul” being the highlight of the Coleman era. Getting relegated by Darren Bent and Burton Albion. Finishing bottom of the table and then beating the champions 3-0 in our final match of the season. Chris Coleman getting offered out by a fan outside the ground after the game. Pink seats. The stadium and academy dropping to bits, and nobody in a position of power giving a fuck about it. That was for us. For those who stood by as an AFC Wimbledon striker turned us down to go to Charlton instead because Richard Hill wouldn’t agree to pay for him to stay in a hotel, and saw every decent academy prospect sold to help pay the bills. Employing Paul Reid to manage the academy. Paying the likes of Oviedo and Cattermole Premier League wages while we were in League One. Donald and Methven. Changing the music that was synonymous with the club to some EDM shite. Jerome Sinclair and Kazaiah Sterling. Mags turning up at every away game. Drawing our way out of the automatic promotion race in 2018/19, losing to Burton Albion, Walsall, Fleetwood, and Southend. Selling our top scorer to pay off our mortgage debt and then floundering to replace him with Will Grigg, who never actually wanted to be here and used to commute every day from the North West. Tom Flanagan having his trolley tipped up in Tesco by a Sunderland fan. Rochdale creating commemorative mugs when they played us. Scoring four goals against Coventry and still losing. 26,000 turning up for a playoff semi-final. That ugly Pompey fan trying to punch Luke O’Nien. Losing on penalties at Wembley. Losing in the last minute of the playoff final, again at Wembley, after being gifted a 1-0 lead. Having to sign our sixth-choice left-back target, Laurens De Bock, because we couldn’t get anyone else in. Jake Vokins, Declan John, Callum McFadzean. Tommy Smith. Joel Lynch. Glenn Loovens. Jack Baldwin. Re-signing Danny Graham. Jim Rodwell. For those who still bought the new kits despite the club having to stick a charity sponsor logo over the BETDAQ one, and it looking a complete fucking mess. Scraping a draw against a skint Bolton side that was full of players from their Under-18s side. Charlie Methven calling our fans uneducated. William Storey, Mark Campbell, MSD Holdings. Phil Parkinson. Maguire and McGeady’s “McDonaldsGate”. Parkinson banishing the only decent player we had to the Under-23s because he was too opinionated. Shite away days like Accrington, where we got absolutely pissed on. Darius Charles, “This is our house.” Every Mag-supporting clogger in the league managing to score against us and celebrating like Alan Shearer. Embarrassing shite like the club’s Twitter account tweeting about Kyle Lafferty playing the flute when we signed him. Losing away at Lincoln, Shrewsbury, Burton (again), and Gillingham. Getting beat by Leicester’s Under-21s in the EFL Trophy. Having to play Newcastle’s Under-21s in the same competition. Sitting in 15th place in the League One table on Boxing Day. One of our former academy players scoring twice against us for Gillingham, then losing to Bristol Rovers, which cost us promotion when the season was ended during the pandemic. Having to rely on the EFL cameraman. Playing a full season of third-tier football behind closed doors and not being able to properly support our team, watching from home as we lost to Mansfield Town, Fleetwood Town, and MK Dons. Losing twice to Mansfield in the first round of the FA Cup. Being robbed of watching our team finally win a game at Wembley. Going out in the playoffs against Lincoln City, consigning us to a fourth season of League One football. Max Power’s 40-yard shot over the bar. Going again the next season, but losing once more to Burton Albion. Some kid pissing himself in his seat in the Roker End with his pants down and the post going viral. Getting absolutely battered at Fratton Park (4-0) when it hammered it down with rain. Similar beatings away at Rotherham (5-1), Sheffield Wednesday (3-0), and Bolton (6-0). Chris Maguire scoring a hat-trick against us for Lincoln and laughing in our manager’s face. Forced rivalries. Every single team coming to the Stadium of Light and putting eleven men behind the ball and treating it like they’re in the final of the FA Cup. Losing against Doncaster in front of 40,000 fans for Jermain Defoe’s big return, and then losing to relegation-threatened Cheltenham. Four years in League One. QPR’s goalkeeper scoring a header in the last minute against us. Alex Neil fucking us off to watch Stoke play whilst he was still employed by the club, then coming back with his side and beating us 5-1 at the Stadium of Light. Michael Beale and his burner account. Plastering black and white shite all over the Black Cats Bar, rolling out the red carpet for the mags and having to live with the embarrassment. That was for us. For those who kept on buying their season tickets and travelling up and down the country to watch us play at some proper shitholes, sometimes getting beat and having to trudge all the way back. For those who had to suffer relentless piss-taking from fans of other clubs because we had no comeback - as we all knew they were right, and we were fucking shite. For those who, despite Sunderland being a League One club, filled the Stadium of Light for a game against Bradford on Boxing Day and turned London red and white on four separate occasions. For those who still bought their season tickets during the Covid season out of pure loyalty to the football club. For those who hounded shite owners out and backed the good ones. For those who have supported Kyril Louis-Dreyfus, Kristjaan Speakman, and their staff because they believe in the project. For those who didn’t lose sight of the bigger picture when we were trying to completely revamp the image and culture of the football club. For those who lined the streets of Sunderland and truly got behind ’Til the End. For those who have spent thousands and thousands and thousands and thousands and thousands of pounds to devote themselves to this football club. For those who kept the faith. For those who couldn’t be there with us in person but were definitely there in spirit. For those who are young enough to have had a choice but, for whatever reason, fell in love with Sunderland AFC. The future generation of this football club, carrying our message along with them over the coming decades. For those who care. For those who cried happy tears as Sunderland finally put to bed the misery of the last eight years. For those who will be there next season in the Premier League and won’t falter at the first sign of struggle. That was for you. That was for all of us. Fucking enjoy it. You deserve it. We deserve it.

🇪🇸🌪️ No striker in the world has more dribbles per 100 touches, or a higher ball-carrying frequency than Eliezer Mayenda (Sunderland, 20) vs Championship Strikers, per 90 : ◎ xA per 100 passes – 1st ◎ Chance creation ratio – 1st ◎ Progressive carries – 1st ◎ Accelerations – 1st ◎ Ball carrying frequency – 1st ◎ Dribbles per 100 touches – 1st ◎ Offensive duels won – 1st ◎ Progressive action rate – 1st Premier League-bound 🔴⚪️ 📊 datamb.football

I tell you what, that Santa Claus has got real presence about him

🗣️ "We have an entire economy based on immigration but a population that doesn't want immigration" @RoryStewartUK and @campbellclaret on why Britain's finances never seem to get better.

@ALS_Fanzine Any spare tickets knocking around?

Got the nod

It’s not rocket science

Too good to go down

Could all the Joneses please slow down and let David Moyes keep up

He’s a football man

33 years ago today, Sunderland suffered First Division relegation at Maine Road. But just before half-time they scored twice in 4 mins, giving their 15,000 travelling fans hope. The noise is incredible. Limbs are everywhere. This is football at its best.

City’s title? Fuhgeddaboudit

@mrjakehumphrey @TFTimeMachine

In 1981, a non-descript, small bungalow on the edge of Norwich, 5 minutes from my house, welcomed a new tenant. The people living here now are likely oblivious to the significance of this bungalow, sitting among other identical houses in this small cul-de-sac. The new guy would have arrived here likely feeing anxious. It was his first step in single-seater racing, miles from native Brazil He needn’t have worried. He won the RAC & Townsend-Thoreson Formula Ford 1600 Championships that year with the local Van Diemen team. He had pressure to return to Brazil & the family business, but, thankfully he carried on racing. Then, 30 years ago today, he lost his life at Imola, and we were denied the talents of one of the greatest, most inspiring #F1 drivers ever seen. However, Rugge Drive, in 1981, will forever be the place Ayrton Senna’s journey in European single seater-racing first began. Here’s the house now with a simple yellow daffodil from my garden. 💛

‘The King’ Charlie Hurley, 1936-2024. Our Player of the Century ❤️