February 2011 Archives

It is difficult not to feel a little despondent about Sunderland at the moment because no matter what sort of spin you try to put on it, three back to back defeats is difficult to accept.

The fact things could get worse before they get better is of little comfort either. Three successive losses could so easily come five if you consider the fact the Black Cats' next two games are away at Everton and Arsenal. That is followed by a home game against resurgent Liverpool and a trip to Manchester City.

So suddenly, that European push is faltering, and even the hope of a top eight finish looks as if it could be in jeopardy. The Wearsiders are wobbling and they could be about to take a nasty little tumble just as the finishing straight moves into view.

Last week I wrote of my despair at what football has become, how I'd lost faith in managers, players and football club owners, how I'd fallen out of love with a beautiful game turned ugly.

But on Saturday, at St James' Park, a little of my faith was restored. Not all of it, but enough to make me remember why I fell in love in the first place and that is a start.

Surely it is too early in my life to feel so disillusioned? I'm too young to be cynical, but I've been bruised, battered and spun around by events at Newcastle United to the point where I think I might have fallen out of love with football.

It isn't just what has happened at St James' Park since I became a sports reporter ten years ago, although that clearly hasn't helped, it is everything the game has become. From Sepp Blatter and Fifa to the conniving, money grabbing agents who get rich off the talent of others.

From the hype and hyperbole of hours of Sky Sports coverage, to the constant failures of England's preening, pampered stars. From greedy, arrogant and selfish players to dishonest owners, via self-serving managers and deluded, irrational armchair fans.