If, like me, you’re drawn to the headline “Gyan admits: I left Sunderland for the cash!”, you’ll be dusting down the fitting, if innumerate, chant “There’s only one greedy b******”.

Then you’ll scour the article, at Ghanaweb.com, for the killer quote. “I did it for money.” “I left to make myself richer.” “Stuff Sunderland; gimme more money and I’m anyone’s.”

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Were Newcastle United the last team to go down as heavily at home as Manchester United did today and still win the title?

Well that was in 1908, when we hammered the Mags even more comprehensively – 9-1 – at St James’ Park and they just shrugged it off to finish top anyway.

Things have changed in football. Surely after today’s mauling by Man City, 6-1 (going on 9-1 from what I saw of the procession of City chances following Jonny Evans’s correct sending off), United’s odds on keeping the Premier title will lengthen a bit. Probably already have.
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Why has Pete Sixsmith abandoned non-league football, the paqes of Salut! Sunderland, his cat Samson and – just days ahead of Bolton away – the intensive psychological training considered essential for those planning to attend SAFC games?

What are we to read between the lines of a mysterious text message sent from what was meant to be a secret location detached from the British mainland?

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Whatever the French can do, the English do better. Or just differently.

You heard earlier this week about Clément Koch’s black comedy for the Parisian stage, entitled and set in Sunderland and owing something to his observations while a student at Durham.

Since Salut! Sunderland‘s piece appeared – see here – it has been in The Times and Independent and on the Today programme – Sunderland apparently described there as being on Teesside – as well as on Ready To Go and the Newcastle pages at not606.com

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This is a headline from the BBC website today:

Reputation preceeds me – Sunderland midfielder Cattermole

I wouldn’t mind betting Lee has already been in touch to complain. Perhaps a yellow card is in order for someone in Auntie’s team.

More seriously, the world is clearly coming to an end if the BBC has made illiteracy a condition of employment.

The link, which includes an interview in which Lee insists he is not a dirty player but a victim of his reputation, is here. The headline may well be corrected as time passes.

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Sunderland have been rubbishing the weekend talk of Steve Bruce’s job being on the line with Martin O’Neill poised to take over. I am inclined to believe the club’s version, as filtered through the Sunderland Echo and Journal sports staff, that his job is – as of now at any rate – no more in danger than the Queen’s. But that doesn’t mean we’re all happy bunnies. This is not our first Dear Steve of the season. Andy Nichol is a stern critic of the way SAFC too often do things and would dearly like Steve to pay heed to his thoughts (adapted here from a message to the Blackcats list) as a nervy Sunday afternoon at Arsenal approaches …

Dear Steve,

I will be there – living in London I’d struggle to find an excuse. But the harsh fact is that we are not worth watching – workmanlike yes and, who knows, we may even grind out another 0-0, but with only Sessegnon to provide any hope of some creativity/flair it’ll be backs to the wall all afternoon.

No Bendtner either. We’re one-paced and lacking in width and God knows what formation you’ll be putting out.

I have been reduced to wondering out loud with the question: “4-6-0 anyone?”

Could we be in for a repeat of the Brighton debacle?

I am sorry, Steve, but regardless of where we finish this season, we’re one ugly team.

All the best,

Andy

Images: V Tonelli

Now if only it could be Sunderland’s play taking Paris by storm. That for all their Qatari gold, we’d gone to the Parc des Princes and walloped Paris Saint-German 3-0 to proceed still further in the Champions’ League.

There’s the fantasy. Here’s the reality, or Sunderland as presented on the Parisian stage.

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With unforgivable lack of loyalty, my younger daughter supports Liverpool. She was born in Bristol, but that’s no excuse.

Even less loyally, she bought my wife as part of a birthday present a copy of the book How To Wean a Man Off Football, by Ronni Ancona and Alistair McGowan. What is she trying to do to my life?

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Image: Andrew Fogg

Fortified by a trip home to the North East – no football, sadly, but to be at the retirement do for the Northern Echo‘s brilliant columnist Mike Amos (click here for more of that) – and by renewed acquaintance with pork pies, sausages and the like, I thought this thread on the Blackcats list deserved a wider audience …

As is often the case, our own Jeremy Robson chipped in with the opener. Whenever football’s thin on the ground – and let’s face it, internationals don’t really count – other topics crop up. What follows is not much more than a taster of the full thread; I will post the rest if there seems, as it were, to be appetite. And I am sure what is pictured above would be sent straight back by many Mackems, especially the steeped-in-nostalgia folk who belong to the Blackcats list …

Jeremy:

* It’s a very slow Blackcats day. Has nobody got any pease pudding crack or pasty stories or owt?

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The mischief makers are at work already. Jeremy Robson naturally found ways of interpreting the Niall Quinn announcement in a quite different way than presented by SAFC …

There has been a widespread discussion following the news that Niall Quinn has stepped down as Sunderland chairman to pursue other duties. Much of this debate is about the truth in the statement. But in reality, can a man in Ellis Short’s position actually afford to tell the whole truth?

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