The Diary

16 September 2005: Sunderland - Wonderland Or Blunderland?

If it?s Saturday, it must be Sunderland ? and yet another of those ?must win? games we spent so much of our time NOT winning last season, hence that awful nerve-shredding last-day predicament. For this one we?ll be travelling courtesy Dave Holloway and his merry men, and because of the distance involved, the day promises to be long, long, long. I can only hope that the result will make everything worthwhile in the end, as it?s a tedious trip, and an awfully big expenditure of money ? for some, more than they?ve rightfully got. And that, kiddiwinkles, brings me onto my next football-related thought.

Those of you than can, remember the Seventies? Yes, tick the box for endless strikes, power cuts and all the rest of it, but, in its own quiet little way, that decade also saw the birth of popular movements that still endure, various campaigns for ?real? foodstuffs/drinks of whatever description, for example. Most famous of all was that for ?real ale?, which performed wonders in encouraging small independent brewers to prosper, while also persuading the drinking public there was a tasty alternative to the gassy, tasteless muck the big boys purveyed in their fruit-machined and jukeboxed licenced premises. Sure, there?s the present perception of such enthusiasts as bearded, patched-elbowed, dog-eared notebook-carrying teachers and social workers (they?re sometimes accused of the heinous crime of folk-singing without due care and attention as well!) who, if not literally having the words ?nerd? or ?geek? emblazoned on their chests and illuminated in garish neon lights, certainly should have. That?s the stereotype, sure, but many present-day beer drinkers turned connoisseurs have ample cause to be grateful to the movement?s pioneers.

The same applies to the so-called ?Campaign For Real Bread?, yet another issue that insinuated itself into the public?s mind around the same time; again, the aim was to wean folk from the tasteless sawdust that passed for a sliced loaf, usually emanating from a national chain. It certainly succeeded; just walk around the bread counter of any big supermarket these days and you can purchase ?the staff of life? in just about any shape or form you care to name. Those pioneering days have long-since passed into the realms of history, of course, but unless I?m very much mistaken, the concept has now taken on an entirely different form: A nascent ?Campaign For Real Football?, would you believe?

The reason? Easy, my growing perception that some supporters, especially in the Premiership, have finally cottoned on to the fact they?re paying heavily through the nose for a ?product? ? how I hate that word, ditto the phrase: ?a matchday experience? ? that?s vastly-overpriced, and thanks to a select few sides possessing enough (hyper-inflated?) financial muscle to purchase big in the transfer market, makes for a contest that?s predictable to the point of tedium. It?s now the middle of September and already, we know who will probably win the Prem. Thirty or so years ago, you could perm any side in the top six or eight to win it ? and still you might be wrong. Newcastle supporters, normally happy just to watch eleven black and white striped shirts drying on the line, have already voted with their feet: gates at St. James?s Park are reportedly well down on the norm this term. As are season-ticket sales ? for the first time in yonks, there isn?t a waiting-list for one at Sat. James?s Park. The same applies to Liverpool ? twenty or thirty years ago, getting hold one of those precious ticket books was literally a case of stepping into dead men?s shoes, but not any more. But the best indicator of massed disenchantment with the beautiful game has to be that coming from just about the unlikeliest source you can think of ? Chelsea?s followers.

As their recent Premiership triumph was the club?s first since 1955, when they won the First Division trophy for the first time in their entire history, you?d have thought they would be deliriously happy with the Stamford Bridge scene right now ? but they?re not. I?d guessed something was in the wind when the club resorted to advertising our game at Stamford Bridge on their local equivalent of the Metro a few weeks back. Also, as we now know, the gate that night was well down on the norm. And Chelski?s response to the then rumblings of dissent? The prices were made public well in advance during the close season, and were allegedly in line with Prem prices elsewhere, so, in effect ?tough?. I would find that response faintly insulting were it me on the receiving end. It?s a bit like a faithful husband or wife, not wealthy by any means, steadily bringing into the family unit the hard-earned money that ensures survival, being suddenly deserted for someone with an income measured in telephone-number figures, a flashy sports car, a thundering great yacht, and a second home on the Costa Brava. Or one on the Black Sea ? you pays yer money, and all that rot.

Sure, the expenditure of a thousand quid or so will readily buy you a season-ticket at Stamford Bridge these days, and several thousands more an executive box and/or corporate hospitality package that will delight your clients, whoever they may be, but what price those whose love for the club grew from childhood?s formless mists, those patient faithful who genuinely supported the club ?when they were crap?? I?m willing to bet that back in the distant days when the West London club were well and truly out of the limelight, mightily unfashionable because of a hooliganism problem that resembled a running and malodorous sore, and zillions in debt as well, the club?s bean-counters would have welcomed what some might now term ?the great unwashed? with open arms. Suddenly, and especially since the arrival of Abramovic on the scene, because of the swingeing increases. such loyal people are no longer made welcome at Stamford Bridge. They?re well rid of the hoolies, of course, but the others, respectable but impecunious Londoners whose whole lives revolved around following their side, both home and away? Well and truly priced out of the market, they are, and no-one at the club gives a tuppenny toss, it would seem.

But things have now progressed even further: the dissent has taken on a much more organised look, and the worm finally turned. Unsurprisingly, the bone of contention is a mirror-image of what I?m hearing from the lips of our own followers, the perception outlined above that previously loyal supporters are now being frozen out by swingeing price rises. Boy, are they angry down there. Last Tuesday evening, Chelsea?s Champions League gate versus Anderlecht was a piffling 29,575, 411 fewer than Sheffield Wednesday?s League Cup encounter versus Leeds the same night - and there?s more.

News in yesterday?s Guardian that what?s called the ?Chelsea Supporters Group? ? a joint venture involving every major Chelsea fanzine and website, apparently ? have now launched a protest campaign against current ticket prices, ?45 for members, ?48 for non-members. According to the blurb, in recent weeks, they?ve been absolutely inundated with correspondence from supporters fuming about recent pricing policy, and the club?s recent ticket advertising campaign: they?re now jointly urging the club to cut ticket prices. Their militant stance would suggest that should their urgings not produce tangible results, and soon, this is only the start.

And, just in case we?re all getting complacent, hear this. At the time of writing, we?d only sold 1,800 tickets for tomorrow?s game, a number that?s well down on previous occasions we?ve played ?em. I?m also given to understand that The Mackems have encountered similar problems themselves, and they too will register a ticketing shortfall. That means admission on the day, for once. I can only hope our football club didn?t have to pay up front for their whole allocation (normal custom and practice for the Prem) because if so, tomorrow is going to be an awfully expensive day for them. And if that?s the case for Sunderland, what about Blackburn? Our next away fixture, and one that?s normally popular with our travelling faithful. Will that game also be boycotted because of inflationary ticket prices? If anything, it?s that one, plus trips to both West ham and Boro which will give us a pretty accurate pointer as to what?s happening at our very own football club. People, fed up with being taken for mugs year in, year out, are finally voting with their feet. I?m not going to say ?I told you so? outright, but what?s currently happening out there is certainly an issue I touched upon yonks ago. The remainder of the season should prove instructive, n?est ce pas?

So what?s the team news for tomorrow?s Wearside marathon, then? The Horse appears to have done something awful to his fetlock, and will therefore probably be kept sidelined in some leafy paddock, somewhere. Well away from any glue manufacturers, I hope! Will Tommy G get the bullet for his errant ways versus Wigan, I wonder? And will new-boy Curtis Davies finally get his chance to shine? The Great Brain pined all his scoring hopes on Earnie this time, I wonder? I reckon Darren Carter will be suffering from a bad case of deja-vu tomorrow ? last season, he spent three months on loan with McCarthy?s mob, and helped them get promotion. In fact, during the close season, he nearly ended up a Mackem, but plumped for us instead. All together, now ? ?Bless!? One puzzling note, though: according to one account, The Great Zoltan has been suffering from what?s described as a ?dehydration problem? and is rated doubtful for tomorrow. Er ? hang on a mo, isn?t that the prime reason they all take frequent swigs from those dinky little plastic bottles containing so-called ?isotonic sports drinks?, to stop the condition developing in the first place? So what do they do in the Hungary side that?s so radically different, then?

As far as The Mackems are concerned, tonight?s scuttlebutt is they have three on the sidelines, still - Stephen Wright (knee), George McCartney (hamstring), Colin Healy (knee) and Kevin Kyle (hip cartilage). The bad news? Defender Alan Stubbs has been declared fit after recovering from a bout of concussion. Mind you, ?Im Indoors reckons he?s about as old as The Fart! They could also be parading new midfield signing Christian Bassila for the first time. Predictably, both managers have emphasised the urgent need to get points form this one, Robbo making it clear he wants to use the occasion to finally plug the multitudinous defensive gaps that have appeared in our side of late. One other thought: should they lose tomorrow, Sunderland will become holders of what has to be the most unwanted record in the Premiership, losing six opening games on the bounce.

And there?s more. Defeat for them would also equal the previous worst ever start in the top flight, that set by then-First Division Leicester back in 1983-84. BP, that is ? ?Before Premiership?. As things stand, they?re also on track for their own worst-ever Premiership start. And finally, just one more encouraging note to cheer you all up ? tomorrow?s referee, Alan Beeby, is not only on his first-ever season in the Prem, tomorrow will be his first-ever game in charge at that level! As we all know from these things, such inexperience could turn out to be a blessing in disguise for us, but should the guy be easily intimidated by ranting and raving managers, players, or whatever, his newly-promoted whistle-toting presence could backfire something ?orrible. I wonder if Tel?s going to bring that referee stress-doll of his with him on the coach tomorrow? A little voice inside tells me it may be needed badly come the final whistle.

Yet another Albion player to make the journey from The Hawthorns to The City Ground ? Russell Hoult, on loan for a month, it would appear. Now considered third in the pecking order, I can only assume the idea is to give the bloke some badly-needed first-team games, thereby finally establishing his overall fitness for the fray. Or not. Oh, well ? his presence in front of the old onion bag, even for such a short time, might prove to be the factor that saves Megson from being the unwilling recipient of a P45. Given all the other stuff that emerged about his personal life not so long back, it might also serve to take the heat out of that situation a little for all parties concerned.

And finally?.. Remember Sorrento? No, not the Italian place just down the coast road from Anglo-Italian opponents Salernitana, the Aussie football club, Shaun Murphy and all that jazz. It?s very near the end of their season Down Under, right now, and the club we temporarily ?attached? ourselves to when visiting last summer is still stuck neck and neck with Perth for the title. Unless things have changed drastically over the course of the last few days or so, you still need a crowbar to separate the two ? it really is that close. And get this, pop-pickers - on the very last day, who do Sorrento get to play? Yep, their deadliest rivals, Perth SC! You really couldn?t make it up.

 - Glynis Wright

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