... but mock anyone who believes in fairies. I noticed someone, this week, saying some team or other have the 'Indian Sign' over us. There are always mentions of bogey teams, fate and everything from hoodoos to voodoos ... ... people believe in lucky routines, lucky underpants and even 'lucky pisses' when they're watching on TV Of all these things the only thing that bothered me was people saying it would be 'typical Sunderland' to lose in front of a big crowd, or after a win against a big team, or in a vital game, etc etc etc. That's seen quite rarely now as we've won six in a row, at Wembley, in play off games, etc. Have we shaken off our jinxes or do you still believe ... ... personally I'm looking forward to our game against Plymouth and a lucky rum as it's a maritime town.
Well I believe in the Stanhope fairies! Does that make me stupid? Dont answer, I know I am already, but them fairies are laughing with me
I don't believe in anything daft but I do think for many years we had a knack of shooting ourselves in the foot when it mattered. We were on a downward spiral for a long time and it felt like anything bad that could happen did happen. Shortly after Dreyfus took over all that was banished. It's impossible to have anything negative hanging over you when we play so well and positively and everything is set up for a bright future.
Don't believe in fairies but Santa Claus I believe is the main man. As far as Jinxes go....in life you make your own luck.
I'm sure I once read that Rodwell started 40 odd games for us, and out of all of those starts,we won..... one. Now not sure if that's a jinx, but if you're one of the other players that believe in Jinxes, (loads do apparently), then it's a state of mind of "well, we're f**ked already" before a balls kicked.
Santa might only turn up once a year at Christmas, but that's still a better appearance record than Rodwell.
We only lost the 92 cup final because of my cousin Barry's chewing gum! He chewed gum in the first cup game, and because we won, he wrapped it up and took it home to chew again in the next one. This repeated until we were in the semi, but then disaster struck. When Byrne scorred the winner, Barry shouted with delight, and the chewwy fell out of his mouth and was stepped on by another supporter. He still scraped it up off the floor and took it home to consider what to do. There's some debate in the family whether he decided not to chew it at the final, or whether he washed it and did chew it, but washing must have washed the luck out of it, but either way, that's why we lost (apparently)
As I left Wembley, that day, I vowed never to wash, shower or bathe until we won there ... ... sadly the four lads I went with all stopped going with me, for various unexplained reasons, so I ended up travelling to the Wycombe game alone
None of this nonsense for me as long as I'm wearing my red socks on a match day. It's utter bollocks as we've probably lost as many as we've won whilst wearing them but I still do it. Mind it's not the same pair that I've had for 60+ years, it's a bit like Triggers broom.
