A Real Connection between the club and its fans. Long may it continue. Stronger together.
Still on holiday mate, I was visiting Will a few doors up from you.We gave the furniture removers a hand to load your stuff in the lorry, surprised you were getting all new furniture. Thank me when you get homeRealising before Christmas we weren't going to be in a relegation scrap, each match after that for me was no pressure, just see how far this team could take us and yes we very nearly did it
Even the playoffs were stress free for me. TM and young lions made a very pleasing change from the previous six seasons.

Got back half an hour ago, were absolutely knackered, you could have left the good stuff tho.Still on holiday mate, I was visiting Will a few doors up from you.We gave the furniture removers a hand to load your stuff in the lorry, surprised you were getting all new furniture. Thank me when you get home![]()

Still on holiday mate, I was visiting Will a few doors up from you.We gave the furniture removers a hand to load your stuff in the lorry, surprised you were getting all new furniture. Thank me when you get home![]()
On the flip side, the experience of the play off semi and final was enough to convince my Dad to get his 1st ever season ticket at the age of 75. He makes a 100 mile round trip for every game.for a selfish reason and there will be loads more like me,stood in Wembley last year at full time singing Oasis with my mate thinking "for all the s**t we've sat through, sat in a 3 qaurter empty SOL when it would've been easier to just walk away and give up, I deserve this moment". I don't see me more or less as any other fan or judge anyone, but that was my personal opinion. People crawling out of the wood work I'd not heard from in years starting a phone conversation with "Ar-reet mate, can you get tickets for Wembley".
Positive memories.
The whole f**kin lot of the campaign just gone.
On the flip side, the experience of the play off semi and final was enough to convince my Dad to get his 1st ever season ticket at the age of 75. He makes a 100 mile round trip for every game.


Thanks for the comments abut me helping people with tickets, etc. During this period I helped organise tickets, transports, meet ups and, best of all, the pre-match pub at Wembley. It's all a massive pleasure and I've only been a small part of it tbh, loads of people chip in without ever getting a mention. They prefer it that way as there are those who come on to cause trouble and target people, I really don't care so become a convenient focal point.
Anyway, memories.
My word, so many and all fantastic.
Here's my first and, tbh, one of the best in shortened form. Arranged to meet the lads from Gateshead, Sheffield, Hastings, Bristol, etc, in Reading town centre then the bus to the ground. It was my birthday and I pictured backslaps, selfies and pints from everyone. Instead I got stuck at work and had to go straight to the ground. I went into the club's Jazz Cafe, at the ground. expecting to have a birthday pint with other Sunderland people who I'd probably know. Not a soul ffs!
So went there alone, drank alone and went in the ground alone.
I stood alone and watched Simms crumple to a heap, saw him taken off and heard the collective groan of our away support. Reading, at the time, were unbeaten at home and could've gone top two. I was as low as could be then found a great pal, Grumpy Old Man from RTG, in the disabled section. Above us were excecutive boxes and some ponce acting the big man with his tarty bejewelled slapper. I caught his eye and started winding him up just at the right time as Roberts cracked in his first. Billy Big Bollix puffed his chest out, flashed his Rolex and waved an imaginary wad just before the second went in. He really started to pound the glass now
My mocking went into overdrive to the point whereby stewards were sent to deal with me.
I asked why the Reading supporters hadn't heard the referees second whistle, to signal the end of the minute's silence, and carried it on throughout the match. I thought that was funny and, thankfully, so did they and they walked off laughing. I looked up at Mr Bigshot who's lass was trying to pull him away from the front of the box. As the goal of the season went in he turned away and left the box without a glance. To her great credit the lass smiled and waved before following him.
So from such a dismal pre-match birthday the night turned out to be an absolute classic ...
... putting some clownshoe back in his box, night with Grumpy and three wonderful goals.
Money can't buy nights like that.