“Redemption Arc Complete” — Sunderland AFC Have Returned!
Being a Sunderland supporter on Tyneside is a little bit like the dekulakization of the Russian population under Stalin: essentially, people whom he considered a threat to the Soviet state needed to be dealt with accordingly, and were sent to Siberia. In this scenario, we are the peasants and Newcastle United fans are the OGPU, otherwise known as the Soviet Secret Police. Because that’s how we were viewed and treated.
You have to go about your business quietly around these parts. A knowing nod here, a secret handshake there, and the unveiling of a Vaux badge to the trusted few you knew to be of red and white persuasion. In truth, though, there are more than a few Sunderland fans in my part of town, and sadly, I haven’t quite managed to remain under the radar.
A couple of children I know (to be fair, top lads, but they’re only six and eight, and should know better) give me dog’s abuse on the school run regularly. It’s a source of regret to me that it’s not the done thing for a thirty-eight-year-old man to respond in kind with a volley of vitriol which has been finely honed in the playgrounds of Northumberland, where I was often the lone red and white voice. I’m also friends with their parents.
Yet we all shared the same itch: to throw off the shackles of tyranny and shout from the rooftops about Brian Brobbey, Régis Le Bris, Granit Xhaka and all. That was until approximately 13:05 on 22 March 2026, as the second half got underway and we realised we’d once again been gaslit into thinking we would end up being sent back home with our tails between our legs. In many ways, it was a classic Sunderland fan trait that we’re all guilty of: being lulled into a false sense of insecurity.
We should’ve had faith. Deep down, we actually did… didn’t we? Sunderland exploited space.
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