Set Pieces - Sunderland Fans. A Tribute.
Author: warthog / Date: Monday 4 August 2008
Charming, erudite, intelligent, knowledgeable. None of those words can be used to describe Sunderland fans. Once more, the slum dwellers of the North-East embarrass themselves.
It’s that time of year again. The new season approaches, the natives are getting edgy, summer’s rubbish as usual and T-W is invaded by a bunch of spotty, obnoxious, educationally subnormal chavs, who struggle to put two words together. Yes, the Sunderland fans are back.
It first started in 2006 with the ludicrous idea that Sam Allardyce would swap a club with three consecutive top eight finishes for one which had, once again, suffered Premiership disgrace. Oh how we laughed! Not that the visiting peasants shared the joke, but then they’d lost their dole money at the bookies when Sam stayed put – as anyone with an IQ above room temperature knew he would.
It helps if one learns from experience, but that takes a measure of intelligence that’s notably lacking in the hovels of Wearside. So when Jussi Jaaskelainen was linked with a move to the Stadium of Light, the clueless hordes were back, spouting the same old drivel – but that’s what you get for putting PCs in job centres (computers we mean, not the constabulary, although they’ll be there as well, to stop the staff being mugged.) Over twelve months later, the spacktards are still snivelling about the article that appeared here, in response to that foray. If you can’t take it lads, then don’t dish it out.
Finally last week, for the first time since Bob Stokoe sprinted onto the Wembley turf in his dirty raincoat in 1973, the wanabee geordies had something to cheer about, when Sunderland signed El Hadji Diouf from Bolton. This could be seen as a coup, but not by anyone normal. Diouf declared his intention to leave the Reebok some months earlier, in anticipation of interest from Europe’s top sides. Pitching up at a club that’s lower down the football pecking order than Hartlepool must have been something of a shock. Oh to be a fly on the wall when the next discussions between the player and his agent take place.
In some ways, it’s a good match. Diouf on his day, is a very fine player, but Bolton fans were always uneasy with the darker side of his character. There will be no such qualms in Sunderland. Spitting, drink-driving, smacking your bitch up and lying on the floor for extended periods are not just acceptable norms, but required behaviour in the city that never washes, although on the streets the latter trait is due to excessive consumption of alcopops and not the desire to win a free kick.
Of course the excitement is understandable in a region where not much happens. Time didn’t so much forget Sunderland as stick two-fingers up at the place before sprinting down the A1. The Mackems are getting giddy about football because there’s nothing else to do there. Not that it will last. Niall Quinn and his bunch of pikeys won’t put money into the club forever. After all, there are only so many drives you can tarmac.
Eventually it will occur, even to them, that there isn’t a hope in hell of getting a penny back from their ‘investment’ and they’ll be off like a shot, leaving the club with the most hideous stadium in football to liquidation and lower league oblivion. The supporters who’ve attached themselves since Roy Keane arrived will be off up the road to watch football at St James’ Park, as they used to do.
There is little that’s new in the beautiful game. Now and then, events suggest change, but it rarely happens. Sunderland’s cerebrally challenged mob can mouth off all they like but it doesn’t disguise the fact that there will only ever be one significant club in the North-East of England and that’s Newcastle United.
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