Not much to toast after punch-drunk effort

IT PROMISED to be a great weekend.

Last season we twice frustrated City, at home we were only beaten by a dire referee and a dodgy penalty, at Eastlands we were a messy goal away from a deserved draw. This time round with our new squad, things promised to be even tighter. Even the sun was making a rare summer appearance as I walked up to the Stadium of Light.

By 4.45pm there were dark skies ahead and this seemed to be mirrored by events on the pitch as we sunk to a depressing 3-0 defeat. To make matters worse, I had to spend most of the game alone after my mate was thrown into the Stadium of Light’s cells for the afternoon, meaning it was a sobering day watching us being picked apart by Mark Hughes’ men.

The heinous crime that left me all alone was all Newcastle owner Mike Ashley’s fault. For some reason football supporters in England aren’t trusted to be able to drink alcohol and watch football at the same time, so it’s now against the law.

That’s fair enough, although it doesn’t quite explain why pubs do such a roaring trade showing matches without any major trouble occurring and why there is rarely any violence at the bars inside the stadium.

During Newcastle’s enjoyable defeat at the Emirates, a certain black and white-clad fat man appeared live on national TV in the seats, pint in hand, to watch his down and outs being humiliated. Whilst most chairmen would show a bit of dignity and respect for the law, Ashley simply downed his lager in one, much to the delight of the surrounding fans. Impressive drinking skills, but was he ejected from the stadium? No. It’s a relief we’ve someone with a little more class in charge of things here.

I shudder to think of the day that Niall Quinn turns out in the away end clad in red and white, downing pints of Guinness in an attempt to seem at one with the fans.

Assuming that if a multi-millionaire chairman can drink on the terraces, my mate carried out his own experiment and sneaked a small bottle of wine through the turnstiles and also managing to get in with a child’s ticket. Having passed himself off as a 12-year-old girl instead of a 26-year-old man, he then began to sneakily sup whilst watching us start the match brightly. Needless to say, unlike Ashley, he was carted off within minutes and dumped in a cell, where officers told inmates that we were leading from a Danny Collins goal rather than the painful truth.

By full time I was wishing I’d spent the afternoon locked up instead of enduring a heavy home defeat, which admittedly looked worse on paper than it did in the flesh. In the first half we passed well and shaded the game, but Stephen Ireland netted on the stroke of half time and it proved crucial timing. We came out in the second period and looked lacklustre. I’ll not dwell on the rest.

It seems to have been a Jekyll and Hyde start to the season. Brave against Liverpool, excellent at Spurs and poor versus Manchester City. I’m just waiting for the real Sunderland to come out and put together a consistent run of performances as well as results. It’s going to be a long wait for our next game with a break for the ridiculously early international matches, but Wigan away should present us with a chance to add to our points tally in our next game.

My only worry now is that after the first three fixtures we find ourselves in the relegation zone. The last thing we need is to be playing catch up from the beginning. There’s a lot of work to be done, but thankfully after our transfer window spending it’s a case of moulding experienced Premier League players into a top flight cohesive unit rather than trying to do the same with players from the Championship. I’ll drink (safely) to that.

Martyn McFadden www.a-love-supreme.com