It seems only a few weeks ago, I wrote an article about how good we now were. That's because it was only a few weeks ago we we were. For whatever reason, we've not been that good recently, but tonight it ends and we're back to WIZARDRY. I promise. 
I've been guilty of being a bit unreasonable and falling into the trap of expecting us to win every game, like one of those absolute deluded spoilt utter fucking bellends with a home counties accent who rings 606 when Utd come 3rd and demand everyone is fired into space and genocide committed against the players and their families. This is the curse of our Jekyll and Hyde season (see diagram) - We started ugly and were frankly crap for a bit, then we've been pretty good for ages. Had we adopted a pattern of win 2, lose 1 all year, then we'd probably have taken defeat with a more sanguine shrug of the shoulders, but when we've had long good runs and long bad runs, it's all a bit more melodramatic. Me included. 
The irony is, tonight, might just be the day for the cautious solidity of our recent games. Sunderland haven't got a lot to play for, but their season is alive enough and their recent history of calamity enough motivation to mean they're going to want to put all doubts to bed and seal a play-off berth. They've got a score to settle, having possibly unjustly lost to us at Bloomfield and are under a bit of pressure from the more, er... 'demanding' members of their fanbase.
I frankly have no idea how we're going to go tonight but it's going to be a different test than it was against Rochdale and friends. They're not going to set out to stop us, but back themselves to score more than us and as such, maybe the tactics that didn't work three times against sides who aren't like Sunderland might work against a side that is. You can't get more like Sunderland than Sunderland I guess. I'm not sure. I'm uncertain about what the best plan is tonight to be honest.
I frankly have no idea how we're going to go tonight but it's going to be a different test than it was against Rochdale and friends. They're not going to set out to stop us, but back themselves to score more than us and as such, maybe the tactics that didn't work three times against sides who aren't like Sunderland might work against a side that is. You can't get more like Sunderland than Sunderland I guess. I'm not sure. I'm uncertain about what the best plan is tonight to be honest.
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Then the team sheet is out and, blimey, Neil certainly has spun that roulette wheel. In come Turts, Husband and most excitingly, Ethan Robson. A player with no goals or assists to his name doesn't seem an obvious catalyst but we've seen stuff we liked in him, all be it ages ago. Can he grasp this chance? Has he been begging Critch to play for weeks, just to show him what he can do? What's the formation? Not a clue...
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We're off and bizarrely ifollow is offering a choice between commentary on Accrington vs Pompey or silence. Sullay seems to be central, Ward on the right and Pool sitting quite deep. We spend the first three minutes mostly defending apart from a toe poke forward to no one from Robson. McGeady miss-hits a free kick as a siren wails in the wider Sunderland environs. The bigger the ground, the more weird the atmosphere is.
We defend some more. Here's a thing. Every single player is wearing an undershirt on our team. Why not just make long sleeved kits? Is Neil dressing them now I wonder? Is this some sports science thing about keeping your arms warm? Pool randomly get a corner from absolutely nothing. I admire the Archibald Leitch lattice work in the stand behind the goal. The corner comes to nothing at all and eventually the ball rolls out of play. Critch trudges across and knocks it back, looking like a man walking his dog kicking a ball away that comes into his path grumpily. His kicking style is curious, a bit like you'd expect a politician to be, awkward, not very effective.
This is looking very much like 4-4-2 at times. There's the most fuss ever about taking a free kick from deep. It takes about 3 wayward passes to get the ball in the right place, then the ref blows and has it retaken. Eventually it's nodded away after Jimmy finally lofts it in. We do some of that passing at the back that we all love so much and then finally give it away. We look we might break, but (and you'll never believe this, Turton checks back.) Eventually, after a long spell, Husband plays it from the back and the keeper comes and gets it. At least we've got a bit of the ball now.
Sullay has a break and plays it to Yates. He dances but a tackle takes it off him. We pass, pass, pass again and Husband lofts, Robson chases and away the ball rolls, over the line. When we haven't got the ball, it looks very much like a 5-3-2. We pass it about and go back to Maxwell. Sullay has a bit of space, but there's no one to pass to. Robson plays a raking ball but again, over the line it goes. Ward wins it in midfield, plays it to Jerry, Jerry has done a different run though. It's very much like that.
Sunderland clip one over the top, O'Brien stretches but it's a tame effort, where it looked as if he might have chipped him. Jerry gets a bit of space with a trick, slides in Turton, Turton skids a low cross, no one is there.
Critch bursts into applause. I like to think that he's just witnessed his ultimate football image. Some of us like passes, some of us like goals, some of us like flying saves, but our impish one is brought to his feet by a good bit of pressing by Grant Ward. Unfortunately, the camera doesn't reveal what Critch makes of Ward's next action, harrying McGeady on the touch line, following him, not giving his space to breath, deflecting his cross up in the air, then watching the ball down and completing the clearance. Neil probably needs oxygen after that.
Again, we spend ages over taking a free kick. Eventually the topknot god decides just to pass it backwards to Ballard who boots it into the stand. To be fair, I might sound critical so far, but literally nothing has happened in the game and we've had more control than them. It's been cagey.
Sunderland muster a cross, Wyke twists and leaps but heads it way over and wide. They manage a few more, but find Thorniley's, then Husband's heads. We play a nice ball to Sullay who instinctively cuts it back first time and we win a corner. Nothing happens except one of their big lads goes down and Dougall hits it into the top tier. The Sunderland player looks in pain and somewhat uncharitably, my main thought is that I don't fancy injury time at all, not wishing to extend this match at all, such has been it's turgid nature.
Sullay turns his man, feeds Yates, but it's just half a yard too early. Sunderland get called offside. Then, my lord, we have a shot! A shot! It's a long ball from Maxwell, Sullay chases, the defender wins, but it takes an awkward bounce (or possibly Sullay does get a nick), sits up nicely for Yates who smashes a volley straight down Burge's throat. We then follow up the shot with a genuinely inventive attacking move. Sullay plays the ball of the game, a lofted cross field pass to Turton. We work it well, very well, Sullay having a couple more good touches, but Husband puts a terrible ball in and the move is over.
Sunderland make a chance, a cross from the right, Wyke looks to have beaten Ballard but the ball ends up in Maxwell's hands.
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This is either dreadful or 'a fantastic tactical battle' or both. It's not exactly end to end at any rate. We've definitely had the better football, long periods of possession and passing, but they've looked more incisive, eschewing possession for getting it into the box and using what we haven't got, which is genuine presence up front. Put it this way, if this was an early season game, you'd be screaming at them to do something (both teams) and wondering why no one seems to want to grab the initiative. With so much at stake and Sunderland needing a spectacular implosion not to reach the play offs, it makes more sense. Still a bit shit though to race home, slam my tea down and then get served a game where neither side seems to especially want to win.
C'mon POOL!
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There's no surprise at all that Critch hasn't changed it. I decide to leven my misery by looking forward to more of the same. We'll unlock them sooner or later. They're a load of lumps and we're wizards after all.
Wizardry is in short supply as Sunderland win a corner, it's flicked away, but Max Power takes it down on the edge of the box, drives it hard and Maxwell makes a very good stop, flinging himself low to his left and getting firm hand to it.
Sunderland play a very untidy ball, Robson is on to it, his control lets him down, but he slides in, keeps it alive, Garbutt picks it up, the move still might be alive, but then the ball is behind Sullay and it's cleared.
Sunderland seem to have decided to have a go, several times they stretch us with deep balls, the Mcgeady half magics through, half gets a lucky deflection, then he blasts it over. The ref gives a corner though and from the corner, Maxwell has to collapse and scoop the ball of the line from a Wyke header. It is a very good save.
Sunderland are playing with more pace, they're taking throws much quicker, hitting the ball forward earlier. We react with patient play. Ward and Turton work a shooting chance, Turton blasts into a defender and we've got a corner. In it comes, it's nodded away but wait, here's Sullay. What the actual fuck? He's lashed it, you can barely see the ball as it explodes from his boot, it's got a white hot comet's tail behind it, it's blasting past the keeper, it's nearly bursting the net. It's a piece of absolutely fucking magic.
I FUCKING LOVE YOU SULLAY KAIKAI.
Sunderland put pressure on down the flanks. They win a corner. That goal though. They win another corner. It was unreal. Perfect body shape, perfect execution. We clear the corners. The bring on Ross 'very big' Stewart. We break, when Sullay is on, he's the best player we have, the best we've had for ages. He spreads a clever ball to Ward, he's in, but then he isn't and instead he sweeps a cross that is cut out before it reaches Yates.
Mcgeady makes a horrible little foul, Ward is streaking away, McGeady doesn't just clip him, but turns as he does, making sure Ward feels the contact. We're looking nice on the break now. Husband spreads it for Ward, he can't quite control it. Sullay kills a long ball dead and lays it for Robson who misses the run of Yates.
Then Sullay goes down. Then Sullay goes off. I'm absolutely gutted. All year, he's shuttled up and down the left, where he doesn't belong, then finally he goes in the middle, scores the goal of the season, looks to be in pure piss taking, sheer magic, no one can touch him form and then he crocks himself. I actually could sob for the lad. I really could.
Demi comes on. Sunderland loft a ball to the back of the box, The Sunderland no 5 is all on his own, he heads it down and across, someone gets a touch, Maxwell makes an astonishing save and somehow we're still a goal up. Can we go back to the first half now. I'm on very much on edge.
We have a lovely spell, keeping Sunderland pinned back, relishing the space that has opened up. Dougall scuffs a shot, but we win it back and build another move, we work it with such intricacy and Husband goes on the overlap, points exactly where he wants it, gets it then, then loops it past the far post and out.
It goes back to the same pattern, Sunderland trying to bully their way through, us heading away and closing down. Grant Ward deserves a bonus for the way he chases Mcgeady down. Ballard gets a battering, but stands up to it. I decide Luke O'Nien looks like he's won a local schools competition to play centre half. He just looks too small.. Ward deserves another bonus for his work in the other direction, bursting down the right, winning a free kick. The free kick bounces about and is cleared. Robson plays a lovely ball back in, Demi is free, his cross isn't the best but we win another corner. C'mon Pool! The corner comes to naught, but a minute later, a brilliant little cushioned header from Demi sets Yates free, he's got two with him, but he goes between them and slams in just past the post.
Sunderland have a shot after good hold up play from Stewart. It's not that close, but it's terrifying. It starts absolutely pissing down. It's not that Peter Kay fine rain that soaks you through, it's that God's wrath mental rain that causes a flash flood. Sunderland seem to be immune from the offside flag. A dinked ball needs a frankly incredible header from Dan Ballard, back peddling, looking beaten then kind of falling back and jumping at the same time to take it away from the two or three Sunderland players queing up to bury it.
Turton loses it. He knows it and he fouls to slow it down. They take the free kick quickly and look away anyway, so Ballard charges out and doesn't even think about the ball. Heroic stuff. The rain has eased and then come back with heavenly vengeance. Garbutt lofts it, Robson runs on to it, holds his man off, he has it under control, but not quite decided what to do, will he shoot? Burge closes the angle and he changes his mind, squares it to Jerry, but the indecision shows in a timid pass that is never going to reach the sniper.
At the other end, it's lifted in, Stewart nods down, shit, Mcgeady is in, he pulls the trigger, but from nowhere, Thorniley slides across the greasy turf and deflects it away. More balls come in, more clearances are hammered away. Somehow the ref gives FIVE MINUTES of extra time from nowhere. Then, he doesn't let us make a sub. COME ON POOL! Then Maxwell makes another outrageous save, a flick header, he takes a step, he springs like a panther and claws it away. It is as stunning a stop as Sullay's goal was a goal.
Yates feeds Ward. Ward who has been magnificent today, literally can't move. He's barely hopping, he's completely hobbled and Kevin Stewart is finally allowed on. Again Sunderland get in. The pull it back across goal, Husband runs into it, it's going in... except it isn't and it rolls past the post. Lee Burge comes up. The keeper coming up! Where has this game come from. IT's fucking wonderful. The corner swings in, we head away and
Maxwell comes, gets gloves to it, but can't hold it, it's his first error of a brilliant night, and we hack it away anyway. It's chipped in again, Gooch throws himself at it, Ballard is there again. Corner. The keeper up again but they hit to the near post, with the luminous yellow shirt at the far stick - there's a decent header, it's over the top, not by much but then.... the sweet, sweet sound of the whistle.
YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!
Fucking hell. What a win! Critch actually looks happy for once. Not even he can contain the emotion here. Sullay can walk, which is good and the impish one ruffles the enigmatic geniuses hair, then gives thumbs up to whoever is in the stand. He looks absolutely made up. The twinkle is back.
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The second half was biblical stuff, everything the first half wasn't. The same pattern is true of both periods, we played better football, they were more direct, but that was magnified in the second half. Maxwell gave one of the best performances I've seen from a Pool keeper in I don't know how long, 4 or 5 magnificent stops. The centre backs were incredible, especially in their last ditch work, Grant Ward was simply superb and Sullay's goal. That goal. I might get it tattooed on my face.
If I was a Sunderland fan, I'd be concerned that their plan A looked hopeless and their plan B (lump it to Stewart) looked far more effective. On balance, objectively, being fair, at the end of the day, they probably merited a point, but fuck that. They also seemed to own the linesman and be allowed to hit our players in the face, so there's no reason to get all gentlemanly about it is there? They'll be in the play offs. They just need a kick up the bum.
Anyway enough of them, it was magnificent. Not the return to super sexy football perhaps, but a performance full of character, heart, endeavour and one moment of sublime skill from a player who deserves that because, for all people doubt him for what he isn't, he's just about the only one who tries that sort of stuff and that is exactly what we need in amongst the effort, the shape, the ball retention. All of that is grand, but without the unpredictable magic of a Sullay Kaikai, what sort of a game is football?
Take a breath. Savour it. Magic.
onward.
utmp
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