The FA Cup. Part 17.

Sunday, 09^th March 2014

Sixth Round Proper

Hull City v Sunderland AFC

KC Stadium

Hull

HU3 6HU

K.O. 2.00pm

Half time 0-0

Final score 3-0

1-0 Curtis Davies  68 mins

2-0 David Meyler  72 mins

3-0 Matty Fryatt  77 mins

Attendance 20,047 (away 3,877)

Miles travelled approximately 380

So, here we again, it’s the 6^th Round, the quarter finals, and the powers that be have decided that we will have one game on the Saturday and three on Sunday.

Arsenal v Everton ITV Sport Saturday KO 12.45pm

Sheffield United v Charlton Athletic BT Sport Sunday KO 12.00pm

Hull City v Sunderland ITV Sport Sunday KO 2.00pm

Manchester City v Wigan Athletic BT Sport Sunday KO 4.00pm

You won’t know this but the first train out of London to Sheffield had an arrival time of 12.32pm while the first train out of London to Hull had an arrival time of 1.37pm (which would give me a massive 23 minutes to get from Hull Station to the KC Stadium) while the first train out of Sunderland to Hull had an arrival time of 1.05pm giving them 55 minutes to do the same journey.

I will leave it up to you to draw your own conclusions has to how we football fans are treated.

4AM! AGAIN! Chocolate biscuits and a Pot Noodle for breakfast sometimes all you need is MSG and I’m not talking about Madison Square Gardens – which ironically isn’t square or a garden and I should know cause I’ve been there – or the Michael Schenker Group – who frankly you should be listening to now instead of reading this rubbish.

By 05.30 I’m on my way and driving up the A1. Oh look “Black Cat Roundabout”, it’s a sign, it’s a sign, it’s a road sign… Ha! Ha! Ha! No man or road junction is an island except maybe this one.

There was almost no one else on the road. The sunrise was absolutely jaw dropping. RAF bases flashed by and before I knew it I’d missed the junction for the Humber Bridge, which meant going into Hull the long way around, which meant I travelled into Hull along the north bank of the Humber estuary and under that bridge.

As I drove into Hull and under that bridge the sun blazed down. The calm waters glinted in the rising haze. The place oozed with the sense money, lots of money, you could feel it, it felt just like London or Liverpool, I knew I was driving into somewhere special, somewhere that was comfortable with its place, its history, its time, to the left of me was industry, in front, then above, then behind me was that bridge, while to my right the water disappeared into the distance, then “Killing Joke” Love Like Blood came on the CD player and it hit me like a sack of shit.

http://youtu.be/TnpwuRlXbhk  (I’ll leave it up to you to find the lyrics).

I sailed into an empty Hull, people walking dogs to and from the paper shop, joggers, traffic lights stopping traffic that wasn’t there, the KC Stadium looked so cool as it leered out of the wasteland to my right. I parked the car in that massive car park in Walton Street and the stewards let me in for free.

Now, because of the lack of traffic I actually parked up at 08.45am. So, erm… nothing to do but kill SIX HOURS in Hull on a Sunday morning.

Taking full advantage of a bright blue sky and an empty Hull I set off towards the ground to do the photo thing. The KC Stadium is set in the middle of parkland. It is the future. Children’s play areas. Modern Sports halls. Massive open parkland. I think back to Walsall and how we could have had something similar to this instead of building that stupid awful shopping mall next door which now stands half empty. What a waste. One day all football grounds will look like this. I was warming up to Hull and the KC Stadium very quickly… as was the weather...

As I stood there taking a photo of an open gateway into the stadium a steward said to me, “Would you like to come and take a proper photo?”  You know the rest… Ha! Ha! Ha! The sprinkler system painted rainbows all over the pitch, one, two, three, all that was missing was Zippy, a pink hippo and a six foot talking bear.

I said my thanks and continued on my way. As I made my way around to the other end, I saw another open gate and the very same thing happened again. All I thought about was taking photos of an empty ground from the other end. As I stood there taking a photo I became aware of someone walking towards me in my view finder that had stepped from the stands.

This person and the steward spoke while I continued taking photos before expecting to be thrown out. The person in question then walked over and introduced himself. I told James my story and before I’d even got close to finishing he said, “I’ll take you in the dressing rooms so you can get some photos”.

What happened next happened so quickly that 24 hours later as I type this up, it is all still a bit of a blur. James had 3,000 bright orange clackers to place out for the game. He took hold of the stewards 2 way radio and tried to contact another member of staff. He then led me in the opposite direction to where he should have been working taking me down a corridor into an office space where Hull City staff were busily working away on today’s game.

James introduced me to Ben. Ben then took me on a guided tour of the ground. Straight back out onto the pitch and around to the dug outs, “Sit there and I’ll take your photo” said Ben, as I sat on the bench while holding the ITV microphone, CLICK! “Stand there and I’ll take your photo with Hull in the back ground” He continued, as I stood on the side of the pitch with the home end behind me, CLICK!

Ben is a walking talking history of Hull City FC who gave up one dream job to do this. Through this door, out of that door, into that room, exit a different one, who, why, what, where, when, my head was spinning, more photos of me in places I probably shouldn’t be, CLICK! CLICK! and CLICK! again…

Of all the days to be having a bad hair day (I shall pause while you all insert your own punch lines to your own jokes… Finished? May I continue? You’re very kind…). If it’s good enough for Kevin Keegan then its good enough for me.

I kept trying to think of smart questions to ask while all the time trying to remember where I’d been and what I was being told. I just wanted to lie down in a dark room… hahaha…

All too soon Ben and myself were saying our goodbyes. We exchanged contact details and went our separate ways.

At this point you need to understand something. When I first bumped into James and when I was introduced to Ben, neither one of them knew anything about this blog. They did what they did because they thought it was the right thing to do. It was an instinctive reaction. It wasn’t until towards the end of my time with Ben that I mentioned this blog and how anything said to me stays with me and doesn’t go in here.

We did have a good chat about Matty Fryatt. I was really looking forward to seeing him play again. He is an Ex Walsall Youth player coming through the ranks. We always knew he was too good for us. He holds the record for the fastest Walsall goal, he holds the same record at Leicester City whom we sold him to. Ironically enough, I’m sure he made his Walsall home debut against Sunderland coming off the bench – we lost. As much as I’d to see him play at Wembley, today I’m a Sunderland fan.

All the people I mentioned Matty Fryatt to only said positive things about him, which was nice. Seems you can take the player out of Walsall FC but…

With my head still spinning and laughing like a drain I went off into town to do the post card thing.

Oh God. I forgot to mention, the phone boxes in Hull are white. I think Dr Who has taken the threat of nuclear war a little bit too far by painting them in anti-flash white, unless it’s someone with a Vulcan Bomber fixation.

As for the city centre, Hull is a classic case of the buildings that survived the blitz are beautiful while the buildings that replaced them should ironically be blown up. Still, it’s not as bad as Coventry. I spent a good 90 minutes in the city centre.

Did you know that the English Civil War started in Hull? Neither did I. It was at Beverley Gate, I went there, it’s in the town centre.

A quick trip into McDonalds for coffee and to catch up with Chris and Keith via texts before making my way back to the ground.

By now it was stupidly warm, to warm for a coat.

A quick visit to the club shop where I managed to buy everything that I went in for, now that was a surprise.

I dumped everything in the car and slapped on some expensive stink, Brut 33. If it’s good enough for Kevin Keegan then its good enough for me (anybody got any Dentyne?).

Here are some other things you probably didn’t know about today’s game. Apart from the thousands of clackers that were being placed on the seats to help create noise and atmosphere, “Subway” were supplying free subs in all parts of the ground where it was possible to do so, while the “Beverley Brass Band” were performing outside the main reception and damn good they are too. While finally Hull had priced the tickets as follows.

Adults £20

OAP’s and 16-22 year olds £15

Under 16’s £5

Under 10’s £1

Into the Dugout Bar to meet up with Keith before making our way into the ground. Considering he’s in a bright orange shirt with all of his sponsor details on it, he’s a bloody hard bloke to find. We had another chat about his fund raising and how some of the donations he’s got from clubs have already been snapped up.  www.justgiving.com/keith-raymond/

By now it was really warm, it wasn’t hot, but we were in danger of needing sun tan lotion. The sun was all over our end and we spent most of the game shielding our eyes from the sun.

The atmosphere inside the ground was electric. We were in the 7^th row towards the corner near the Hull fans and it was great. The noise. The songs. The banter. If only I could understand what they were saying and singing…

The game kicked off and it moved at a cracking pace. Neither team really took control of the game. Lots of shouting without really saying anything, if that makes sense.

Sunderland for whatever reason decided that shots were a bad idea and walking the ball into the net was a better one. I’ve never really understood why teams do that. I cannot tell you how many times I heard Sunderland fans shout “shoot”. It was almost like a running joke and it continued for the whole of the first half.

While down at our end Hull completely stuffed it up when Fryatt the Walsall donkey reject missed an absolute sitter. Six yards out, a glancing header, and he put it wide. It was a let off for Sunderland.

The game was a good honest 50/50 tussle. With nothing special happening apart from the occasional dodgy decision from the Ref, a bit of play acting from a Hull player and Matty “the donkey” Fryatt missing that sitter.

Then it happened, PENALTY! Larsson took the standing leg of Aluko as he tried to spin the other way. It was such an easy foul to win and give away. A classic case of sucker punched. A lesson for every young footballer to study.

Aluko then gave a second lesson for every young footballer to study with a truly shameful penalty. Am I being unkind to Ustari who saved the penalty? It takes two to tango, but it helps if at least one of them is wearing a dress. Stand on a chair, jump off, flap your arms really quickly. Did you fly to The Moon? I promise you got closer to The Moon than Aluko got to scoring. TAXI!

The rest of the first half continued to its natural and neutral conclusion. Sunderland still wouldn’t shoot and Matty Fryatt was the only real threat from Hull.   

The second half continued where the first had left off. We all baked in the heat. The noise level made its way to eleven and both teams promised more than they delivered.

On a positive, I’ve got next Tuesday and Wednesday off so bring on the replay.

Sunderland really do keep the ball well. They pass it well. Good off the ball the movement. Pass it and move and then it all grinds to a halt and they start moving sideways and then backwards, it’s just like watching England and that was their un-doing. They have no one up front willing to take on the defence and no one willing to shot. Maybe they should get some Americans up front, they’re good at blindly shooting at anything.

On 68 minutes Hull finally broke the dead lock. They won a nothing free kick almost in the corner, over came the cross where it was met by Curtis Davies who headed the ball back in the direction from where it came and into the corner. A classic finish. Three sides of the ground simply erupted. I hadn’t realised just what this has meant to Hull.

Four minutes later and they did it again. Hull caught Sunderland on the break. Cattermole had the chance to snuff out the threat but somehow managed to completely stuff up the tackle on Meyler, which left Meyler with a straight run on goal from just inside the Sunderland half.

Hysteria. Pure and simple hysteria. Everyone in the ground knew it was over.

Five minutes later and Sunderland imploded along with Cattermole who for whatever reason decided to pass the ball direct to Fryatt, this wasn’t just a bad back pass this was a direct pass, he might have well have chipped his own keeper. The Ex Walsall Youth goal scoring machine Fryatt kept his cool and passed the ball past the advancing keeper, just like I always knew he could… WHAT!?

If Cattermole can play in the 6^th Round of the FA Cup then so can my goldfish. He will either come back and play a blinder for the rest of the season or that is his career over.

Stewards and Police started to form a Day-Glo barrier around the pitch. You have to admire their stupidity. Do they really believe that they are ever going to stop a pitch invasion. Let them have their moment of glory. Let them run on the pitch and sing and dance and simply soak up the moment. They have just got through to an FA Cup Semi Final at Wembley (don’t get me started on that…). They are 90 minutes from the FA Cup Final.

I made my way to the back row of the stand to take more photos of an empty stadium and a full pitch. Suddenly there was a massive roar that came from inside the stadium somewhere. The kind of roar you get after a minutes silence. It was the roar of the waking of a giant beast. It was the Cup draw. Thousands of Hull fans had stood watching the draw live on the TV screens in the concourses.

Hull City v Sheffield United.

Manchester City/Wigan Athletic v Arsenal.

HA! HA! HA!

You could almost hear the sighs of despair from the FA. But this is EXACTLY what the FA Cup means to US, the football fan. A chance for our little unglamorous team to get to Wembley and win the FA Cup.

I found myself out side taking photos, soaking up the vibe, Police surrounded the Sunderland coaches and eventually they would get their escort away from Hull. I slowly made my way back to the car. Hull players were outside signing anything thrust at them. Sunderland staff loaded the coach with the bags I’d watched them place in the dressing room earlier. The car park was almost empty and I finally made my way home at 5pm.

I made sure I went over the Humber Bridge. Bloody hell fire, it’s not until you get close up to it that you realise just how big it is, OR HIGH! The only two facts I know about the bridge is that when it was built it was the longest single span bridge on the planet and because of that the two towers are pointing in different directions because of the curvature of the Earth.

A nice and easy trip home with a sunset that would make Turner weep with joy. In fact if Turner panted that sunset you would have to study it at school before being dragged off to a museum somewhere to look at it, presuming some businessman hadn’t bought it for the price of a hospital wing before hanging it in a room where no one can look at it. WHAT!?

I got home, parked the car, kettle, TV, porn machine, then it hit me. How the hell am I going to get a ticket for the Semi Final?

While in other news. St Margaretsbury won 2-0 and are also in the Charity Shield Final. Hemel won 1-4 away and are still the best team in Europe. Sutton Utd won 1-2 away and are in 3^rd. While Kidderminster continue to get it wrong, 0-0 away, sack the new manager, Chairman quits, acting Chairman also not happy and have slid down the table to 10^th.

STOP PRESS!

As I was finishing this off last night I was made aware of a story that had been posted on the Walsall FC web site.

WPC Julie Skidmore lost here battle with Cancer. She was the local “Bobby” walking around the pitch on match days at Fellows Park in the 80’s. She was well fit and even if she was a copper, you would. I don’t know anyone of mates that didn’t secretly fancy her.

http://www.saddlers.co.uk/news/article/julie-skidmore-fund-raising-march-2014-1386598.aspx

Here is link to a charity walk that has been set up, from Walsall FC to Port Vale FC.

http://www.justgiving.com/Helen-Baker10/

Here is a link to a page on “Up The Saddlers”. If you ever need to know why some Coppers aren’t just Coppers then here it is.

http://www.upthesaddlers.com/bb/viewtopic.php?f=2&t=44023

I’m not asking you or telling you to donate because times are hard and money is tight, but I am expecting you to read the posts. I promise it will make you smile.

Noggin xx

The FA Cup. Part 16.

Saturday, 15^th February 2014

Fifth Round Proper

Sunderland AFC v Southampton

The Stadium of Light

Sunderland

SR5 1SU

K.O. 12.45pm

Half time 0-0

Final score 1-0

1-0 Graig Gardner  49 mins

Attendance 16,777 (away 859)

Miles travelled approximately 290 (not including the 425 miles)

STUPID!

Yeah. That’s the word. If you ever needed proof that the people who run the game don’t know what they are doing then there it was. Frankly, they couldn’t run a bath.

The FA Cup 5^th Round draw threw up some interesting ties. Once the replays had been played the two ties that stuck out like a sore thumb were Brighton v Hull and Sunderland v Southampton.

Brighton and Hull are approximately 280 miles apart while Sunderland and Southampton are approximately 320 miles apart giving fans a 4 hour 30 minute and 5 hour 30 minute journey time respectively.

So what do the powers that be decide to do? Show them live on TV. Not at a normal time, but 7.45pm on Monday and 12.45pm on Saturday, respectively.

If you still haven’t figured it out yet, it would mean that any Hull fan would need to leave Hull at 2pm at the absolute latest on a Monday, giving them an approximate returning home time of 3am Tuesday. While Southampton fans would have to leave at 5am at the latest on Saturday morning. 

Here is the full draw with the TV times. Draw your own conclusions.

Arsenal v Liverpool   BT SPORT Sunday KO 4pm

Brighton & Hove Albion v Hull City   BT SPORT Monday KO 7.45pm

Cardiff City v Wigan Athletic

Everton v Swansea City   ITV SPORT Sunday KO 1.30pm

Manchester City v Chelsea   ITV SPORT Saturday KO 5.15pm

Sheffield United v Nottingham Forest

Sheffield Wednesday v Charlton Athletic

Sunderland v Southampton   BT SPORT Saturday KO 12.45pm

It’s Friday 14^th, it’s 4.15pm, I’m in Barnet, it’s still raining, I’m still soaked from my last delivery in Kilburn, my phone starts to ring. I answer it. It was Chris from Sunderland AFC. We chat. God! He talks more than me (I shall pause while you all insert your own punch lines to your own jokes… Finished? May I continue? You’re very kind…) I felt an instant attraction to him. He’s as bonkers as me. Brilliant!

Before we hang up we arrange a meeting time and place for Saturday, Chris also offered me his parking space for the day. Here comes that big fish from St Margaretsbury.

By the time I’d finished work and get home it’s close to 9.30pm and I finally stagger into my bed at 10.30pm.

3AM! My alarm goes off and I wake up with a big smile on my face like I used to do when I was a boy knowing my favorite toy was waiting for me exactly where I’d left it.

A quick look online to find a post from Jason on the IMFC Football Forum stating that Tom Finney had died. *SIGH!*

4am and I’m leaving. A quick short cut past the oncoming floods. M11. A14. A1. A1(M). The Moon looked good. The miles fly by. The 80’s compilation CD takes me to a place along time past. My mind starts to wonder. First loves. Loves lost. The dreams I had shattered, the hearts I broke and vice versa. THAT girl. The ONE. I wonder where she is now. Married? Kids? Happy? I hope she’s happy. I hope she’s not out there somewhere thinking of me. What a waste that would be. Strange the things that go through your mind…    

Wetherby arrived a lot sooner than I thought it would. I quickly dived into the services, before continuing north bound.

8.45am and I’m racing into Sunderland. Because of the lack of traffic every landmark I’d looked up before travelling is flying by, a few miles later and I’m completely disorientated.

9am. I arrive at The Stadium of Light. It was the same view I’d seen all those years ago with Walsall. Security stopped me. I explained who I was, who Chris was and the parking bay number. I park the car and while taking photos of some people on the roof of the stadium Chris arrives.

A few minutes later and we’re in his office drinking coffee. If he’d had been a girl I’d have kissed him. I tell him my story while he tells me his. I want his job. Not here but at Walsall FC. He’s truly living the dream.

I tell Chris the same thing that I’ve told everybody else that I’ve spent time with, “Anything you say to me, stays with me and doesn’t go in the blog”. We continue to gossip like it’s a newly invented Olympic sport.

We come from different generations but we see the game in a surprisingly similar way. Maybe the future of football is in safe hands after all.

As a side note, during E Mails to and from each other over the last two weeks, I just happened to mention that my new Depot Manager is from Sunderland and a fan. While we chatted in his office Chris started to rummage around before handing me an envelope full of match day programmes and signed photos for my Depot Managers son. I know were on the coast but how many fish do you think I need… SLAP!

As the time moved towards 10.30am we made our way to the Main Entrance where Chris had arranged to meet up with Keith. Keith is doing the same as me, but he’s doing it for charity. His wife has MS so Keith is raising money for MS.

Once the introductions had been made Chris took us into the stadium and a tour of the memorabilia before taking us down to pitch side and the dug outs. God that stadium looks big when you’re at pitch level. Back up into the maze of corridors that never end – did I just see a white rabbit with a pocket watch…? Door after door after door, Chris opened everyone and made sure Keith or I went through first, not once did he go through first – yes Chris I was watching – eventually we emerge into day light in the Black Cats bar which is a massive bar area behind the goal taking up the whole width of the pitch.

Chris showed us around the ground like a proud father showing of his new born. Sunderland staff went about their individual duties. Everyone knew their place. Everyone knew what to do. No one spoke. That familiar well-oiled machine that I’d witnessed before.

Chris whispered something to another member of staff, within seconds the staff member had returned with, match day programmes, tickets for the South Stand right behind the goal (Row 5) and vouchers for food and passes so that we could get back into the bar at half time and full time. OK! Enough with the fish.

Chris went off to do his usual duties for the day and other Sunderland staff came over and introduced themselves. The staff members that spoke to us basically put themselves at our use. They were falling over themselves to help, to be friendly, to be honest, it wasn’t that slimy Americanized nonsense that you sometimes bump into, it was people just genuinely wanting to help.

While Colin was telling us about Jimmy Montgomery who should walk up, only Jimmy F*****G Montgomery (and yes it does state that on his birth certificate). We did the photo thing. I also asked about Tom Finney and should we have a minutes silence instead of a minute’s applause.  We all agreed that people should stand still and shut up. The only problem is that the decision had already been made to have a minute’s applause. More nonsense that clutters up the game.

I popped back into the empty stadium to take more photos. Stewards started to take their posts. TV crews ran around making final touches.

The KO was fast approaching. I went back to the car to pick up my ticket and get some cash from the cash point. Hemel Hempstead anyone?

Once back inside the Black Cats Bar I continued to listen to Keith and why he was doing what he was doing and the other adventures that he’s had while raising funds for MS. I wish I’d had thought about doing this for charity. I must be honest, I felt pretty daft for not doing so.

Eventually Keith and I went off to find our seats. I was originally up in the West Stand. While I remember, Sunderland had capped the prices for the game at £15 for adults £5 for OAP and Kids. Another nice touch from a club that didn’t have to do it.

The teams arrive, that stupid handshake, the minute’s applause for Tom Finney and we’re all ready to go.

The game kicked off. Southampton fans were making all the noise. They had bought about 500-ish fans. The ground was empty. Sunderland are going through that classic case of Cup Final fatigue, there is only so much money to go around. They have Arsenal away next Saturday which has sold out. It’s a shame that the 5^th Round takes the hit.

The game itself was like a gynaecological examination - wide open with no penetration. The first half whizzed by, with nothing really happening with nobody or team willing to take the game by the scruff of the neck, which was a shame, because the team that did it would win it. It was literally there for the taking.

Half time arrived and I went back up to the Black Cats bar. Where did all those people come from?

I looked up at one of the dozens of large screen TV’s hanging from the ceiling to see Jake Humphrey talking to whoever he was talking to in the studio, then I heard him say – while talking about the small crowd – something along the lines of, “Something has to be done”. Mr Humphrey you are a TIT!

Here is a solution straight away. Stop putting games on at 12.45pm. Go back to the top of this blog and start reading it again. I spy with my little eye something beginning with “Mobius Strip”.

So the FA has a product that they think they can sell and make a profit. Fine. TV companies want to buy the product because they think they can sell advertising space off the back of it and make a profit. Fine. So far so good.

The problem arises when the TV companies decide when the KO is. Suddenly, TV companies are not showing games that are taking place, they are moving KO’s in the hope of attracting a viewing audience in the hope of making money, it doesn’t matter about the fan who will continue to go to the game when the TV cameras are not there. All that matters is the hope of making money. By doing that they then start forcing games into TV schedules where they simply don’t belong. The fan who goes every week, now find themselves in the position of trying to get to a game at an unnatural time for a KO, so, the crowd is a lot less than it should be, would normally be, which results in some presenter on TV complaining about the lack of a crowd. Mobius Strip anyone?

But I guess no one really cares. The FA hope to make money. The TV companies hope to make money. The clubs hope to make money (TV revenue). This is not investment in the game of football. This is not even prostitution because that is a straight transaction of funds for services rendered. In my opinion, what is happening to football is gambling.

While all of that is going on, the fan struggles to get to the game.

No one likes us

No one likes us

No one likes us, we don’t care

We love football, we love football

No one likes us, they don’t care…

While I’m up in my ivory tower, remember Leon from BT Sport? He wasn’t at the game today. They’ve cancelled that road to Wembley thing that they were doing. They have four rounds left, 5^th, 6^th, Semi Final and Final. Draw your own conclusions.

I missed seeing Leon today. He was a constant. Seeing him at the games was like looking at a jigsaw puzzle when you’ve only got a few pieces left, you knew you nearing the finished picture. I shall miss him.

Before I leave my ivory tower here are some facts and figures for you.

Next Saturday is Arsenal v Sunderland. Adults £35.50 OAP’s £15.50 Kids £10.00 Travel £? Car? Coach? Train? Food, drinks, match day programme, souvenirs.

The following, SUNDAY! Man City v Sunderland League Cup Final. KO 2pm. Tickets £40.00 £56.00 £72.00 and £100.00 Coach £40.00 Train? Hotel? Food, drinks, match day programme, souvenirs. Day off from working the following Monday? Do you know how difficult it is to get from London to Sunderland on a Sunday evening/night?  What happens if it goes into Extra Time?

So, if you were a Sunderland fan. Could you afford to do what they have to do AND still make it to a 12.45pm KO…?

I didn’t hear what Mr Humphrey offered as a solution. Did he offer one?

After failing to meet up with Keith at half time, I decided to use my complimentary ticket for the second half. What a view. Row 5, aisle seat. The only problem was it was raining. Standing in the rain is one thing, sitting in it is another. Back up into the West Stand and my front row seat.

What a bugger, smack bang on 49 minutes Graig Gardner hit a screamer of a shot that clipped the underside of the bar and hit the back of the net before the keeper started to flap at it like a long skirt being blown around in a summer breeze. I promise you’re closer to the ball now then he was then.

I leapt out of my seat like a die hard Sunderland fan. Well that worth getting up at 3am for. I cheered and clapped like my life depended on it. What a goal. If only I’d have stayed in Row 5. D’OH!

If the first half was open then then how do I describe the second half? Both teams just went for it. Both teams wanted to win. It wasn’t the best game, but neither team sat back, simply a good entertaining game of footy. Sunderland could have and maybe should have been 3 or 4 up.

Both teams had chances to finish the game off. Neither did. Southampton started to get more of the game. They started to get more of the chances. I started to think about the possibility of a replay. They were never going to win it, but they did look like getting an equaliser.

Towards the end of the game Southampton had two very clear chances to win the game. They didn’t. Lambert in particular missing a chance that frankly was easier to score than miss. An open goal 2 yards out and he put it over the bar. So, that’s him playing for England in Brazil this summer then. WHAT!?

Southampton pilled on the pressure. Then more pressure. Sunderland just couldn’t clear their lines. One final corner resulted in the keeper going up for it, 22 players all in and around the Sunderland box. Don’t tell me the FA Cup doesn’t mean anything, don’t tell it’s lost it’s magic, 22 professional, international, players desperate to win, to get through to the next round of the Cup. Please don’t tell me it doesn’t matter, because it does. THIS IS THE FA CUP!

I sat there watching through my fingers. The thought of a replay filled me with fear. Another one of those, I know that I can’t make it to the replay moments. If the ref doesn’t blow for full time I’m going to run on the pitch and blow the whistle myself. Ironically I missed the finally whistle because I was busy thinking about Southampton away. Suddenly everyone stood up and cheered. I almost burst into tears.

While I remember, around 70 ish minutes, Southampton’s Steven Davis had the ball about 10 yards inside his own half and about 5 yards from the touchline. He hoofed a diagonal ball up field as the advancing Seb Larsson left his foot in the air. He bought his foot down on the right knee and shin of the planted right leg of Steven Davis. We all cringed. Seb instantly apologised to Steven and Steven just shrugged it off as he continued to move up the pitch. I have not seen the TV footage of the game and I don’t know if it got picked up or mentioned, but both players did the right thing especially Steven Davis.

(If I’ve got the players wrong I will happily correct my mistake).

After the game I made my way back to the Black Cats bar. Keith had already left because he was booked onto an early train.

I watched the seagulls take over the stadium eating up all the waste food that had been left on the floor. The grounds men started to work their magic on the pitch. Seeing a pitch without the goals is still a strange sight.

As I stood there drinking my coffee, people watching, up rocked Chris. He really is as bonkers as me. He really does see the bigger picture. We chatted more about the plans that SAFC have for their future. Presentations are made to Sunderland fans from Ex Players. They really do get it.

Chris then gives me another tour of places that he didn’t have time to take me to earlier. Corporate boxes. Hospitality Suites. Back out to look at the pitch. Quinn’s Bar, which was still full of people eating, drinking, watching TV, making plans for the future, it doesn’t matter what future, what matters is that were spending money there and not somewhere else. We even found a Walsall FC shirt in a frame.

We finally staggered out the ground at 15.45 only to be passed by the Southampton team coach, which looked stunning, in all the excitement of the day I’d forgotten to take photos of Southampton’s arrival.

I said my final thank you and goodbye to Chris before going into town to do the post card thing. He even offered me a lift into town. Next time I’ll bring a trawler to take all the fish home with me.

I got back to my car at 16.30 a quick stop off at the BP garage around the corner and by 16.45 I was on the way to Cumbria to pick up my daughter.

As I travelled towards the A66 I saw the Southampton team coach leaving Newcastle on the A69. Walsall FC on the M25 anyone?

At 392 miles I got to Cumbria at 19.15 and by the time we got to our hotel I just crawled into bed somewhere to close to midnight for my own good.

We finally got back home on Sunday 16^th, at 16.15, 716 miles later and I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

Finally, let me give my last thoughts to Keith and his wife. As I mentioned before, Keith’s wife has MS. Keith raises money for MS by doing things like this. I wish I’d have thought about doing this for charity. It’s a little too late for me to do anything about it now, but it’s not too late to give you this. Here is a link to Keith’s charity page.

www.justgiving.com/keith-raymond/

Its well worth a visit just to see some of the items that have been donated by some of the clubs Keith has been to.

Noggin xx