Stepping back in time to a winter wasteland

WITH my hair getting a tad long I decided to calm my derby nerves last week with a pre-match haircut prior to our trip down the A19 to Middlesbrough.

The barber jokingly asked if I wanted a Flock of Seagulls style and walking around Teesside an hour before kick off I started to think I should have taken him up on his offer.

Strolling through Boro town centre and towards the ground with my short back and sides I don’t think I’d have felt out of place if I’d had shoulder pads in my jacket and Adam Ant make up on.

It’s as if the town of Middlesbrough has given itself the mantle of preserving the 1980s as some sort of heritage project.

Due to the huge amount of chemical plants on Teesside, the Smoggies’ minds appear to be trapped in some weird time-warp.

Despite their chemically-influenced brains making them out to be the world’s greatest fans, their ground was half empty and so Sunderland were given their biggest allocation at the Riverside Stadium since it opened. Some 4,000 souls made the journey south despite freezing temperatures. I had two pairs of socks on but my toes are still thawing out four days later.

Boro see the game against Sunderland as their biggest rivalry in football, which somehow manages to wind up a small minority of our support enough to get the fisticuffs going. Maybe it was those brave enough to get the train down for a pre-match beer instead of the safer option of the club’s free buses that were causing the tension or maybe it was the 80s theme of the day that caused our fans to revert back to fighting on the terraces, sometimes amongst themselves.

One other theory is that it was more entertaining than watching what was happening on the pitch. Only a goal from the hosts in first-half stoppage time and an equaliser from us in its closing stages livened up two average teams playing below average football.

The end of the match provided one of the most interesting aspects of the day as our players made their way to the Sunderland end to show their thanks for another afternoon of excellent vocal support. With the temperature dropping even further, Pascal Chimbonda decided he couldn’t be bothered to stay outside any longer and despite being clad in gloves and tights, made his way for the tunnel.

Our brick outhouse-shaped centre back Nyron Nosworthy headed towards the wimpy Frenchman to drag him over to thank the fans that pay his recession-busting wages, only to be involved in the embarrassing situation of having to square up to him. Rather than engage in fisticuffs, Chimbonda did the sensible but gutless thing of running away to the warmth of the dressing room.

After the game the police decided that they’d lock Sunderland’s supporters in for 15 minutes for safety reasons. What they don’t realise is that it simply lets simpletons keen on a ruck congregate around the area that’s easiest to pick on. Unfortunately for the police, they hadn’t banked on manning the doors to the Riverside fire exits and a few of our followers headed out early to meet up with some of Teesside’s least friendly fans. As the police desperately tried to catch up they decided to further indulge in the 80s theme, as a scene that looked like a cross between Keystone Cops and Wacky Races ensued with baddies chasing, er, more baddies.

It’s a nightmare that the police encourage all of this by treating it as a derby. Barely any Sunderland fans genuinely care about beating Boro, although with a win and a draw against them to add to our thrashing of Newcastle in October, our record in the big North East games is impressive.

Thankfully I left unscathed, barring my frostbitten feet. Maybe a pair of good old 80s Doc Martens, or even miners’ boots, would have kept me a bit warmer than my Stan Smiths. Maybe the seemingly outdated locals had a point after all...