It was in Tian’anmen Square or on the Great Wall that the seeds of the latest contribution to Who Are You? were sown. The Thomas Cook top sort of gave it away that Dan Wild* was a Manchester City fan. He may be the first classics and ancient history graduate to visit China with a tour group and leave without seeing the terracotta warriors (it was an additional part of the itinerary, not included in the holiday he and his wife, Lesley-Ann, had won). Dan offers a bowdlerised version of Niall Quinn’s Disco Pants, thinks it’ll be 2-1 to City or 4-0 to us on Sunday and welcomes the Eastlands revolution and all those dirhams …

So, are Citeh the truly Manchester club or does everyone overdo the idea that most United fans couldn’t even place it on a map?  

I don’t think people overdo the idea. There are, obviously, a heck of a lot of United fans in Manchester, but (owing, alas, to their success) the vast majority of fans come from far and wide and most of whom without a doubt will never have seen a live game, many of whom probably won’t even have been to England! City lack the global fan base, hence us regarding ourselves as the ‘local club’ where most fans will have been to games live close to the city. 

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Did anyone else see the RTE Sport headline? It read:”Niall Quinn plays down forthcoming losses.” And it frankly sent me heading towards apoplectic rage.

How many more defeats are we to play down, Niall, I wanted to ask.
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Back to normal business – ie worrying about our own problems – we question the wisdom of clamouring for Steve Bruce’s dismissal but caution Sunderland AFC against taking future support for granted …

The man behind me, in row 31 of the East Stand, was calling for Steve Bruce’s head before the first half was over against Fulham.

In the second half, I heard – well, couldn’t fail to hear – him shout: “You’ve half an hour to save your job, Bruce.”
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Pete Sixsmith looked for something positive to say about the excruciating bore draw against Fulham. He looked, you will not be surprised to hear, in vain. You would do your own looking in vain if you wanted sharper analysis of our present malaise …

The gents’ toilets in the East Stand is a pretty good place to test the post match feelings of those refined and cultured Red and Whites who frequent that august structure. After a famous victory, it is buzzing with laughter and joy. After a humiliating defeat it is a place of doom and gloom. After horrible games like Sundays, it is a place of almost sepulchral quiet.

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Arsenal fans** will probably not care a hoot, but this part of Salut! Sunderland hopes they have a championship to toast at the end of the season. As for us, the next few games, mostly at home, will define our season, admits Steve Bruce. In how many recent years have we heard a similar refrain? Is it time for Sunderland AFC – and perhaps especially Niall Quinn – to realise the extent to which our collective patience is being tested? …

Whatever they are not, Sunderland fans are realists.

No one looked at the arrival of Ellis Short as owner, or Steve Bruce as manager, and thought: “That’s it. A top four place is there for the taking. This season.”
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Another game against lowly opposition, another failure to show ourselves to be in a different class. Colin Randall endures last-ditch heartbreak – and a missed golden opportunity to win for a change – at Fratton Park

Sorry Niall, sorry Steve: if only you had taken the players on a pre-match inspection of the away end at Portsmouth last night: primitive toilets and catering, narrow steps and a shockingly congested exit path at the top of the stand …

It might have stopped them putting in another ultimately inadequate performance of the kind that threatens to lead us back to the Championship – where such conditions are the norm.

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Niall Quinn has reason to remember Nov 20 1997. It was, if my memory is correct, the last time Sunderland managed to win at Portsmouth and his was the first of four goals in a superb 4-1 victory.

Thirteen years on, Niall has asked fans to show patience and support despite – or perhaps because of – the present appalling run of defeats and draws. And he cannot be faulted for doing so: booing the team as they leave the field after a rotten display is one thing, getting on players’ back from the first misplaced pass is another (especially in our case, given how many misplaced passes we have come to expect).
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Niall Quinn and Steve Bruce are apparently the guests on Goals on Sunday, on Sky tomorrow. How will they explain away this humiliation? Colin Randall is still apoplectic after another shambolic away performance …

“Appreciate,” gloated the lippy teenager in blue as she walked past the Sunderland end on the way back to her front-row seat after a wander into the concourse nearly stopped her seeing the fourth goal.
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Sunderland supporters are known for their complete objectivity and generosity of spirit.

So let’s offer congratulations to Arsène Wenger’s team for bouncing back from defeat at the Stadium of Light – how pleasing it is to write those words – to brush aside Standard Liège.

And there’s another trophy heading the Gunners’ way, or more accurately a Gooner’s way. This one takes the form of Salut! Sunderland’s modest prize for what it considers the best Arsenal response to our criticism of Wenger’s post-match comments, which appeared (in context and out of it) haughtily dismissive of SAFC.
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Niall Quinn famously wrote: “I learned my trade at Arsenal, became a footballer at Manchester City, but Sunderland got under my skin. I love Sunderland.” From Colin Randall’s mini-profile, we see that the Sunderland chairman’s powers appear to know no bounds. For as long as it may last, he’s even got us thinking well of Chelsea ….

One ofthe best things you can say about Niall Quinn has nothing strictly to do with the outstanding football he played for Sunderland, the way he has conducted himself as chairman or even the magnanimous donation of the entire £1m proceeds of his SAFC testimonial to hospitals in Sunderland and Dublin and an orphanage run by a pal in Calcutta.

It is that you know instantly he’s the sort of bloke you’d enjoy having as a friend, or even as an occasional acquaintance with whom to share a drink or two.
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