The pub was half full with Arsenal fans and about twenty Town. We DID get the back room, but only because Jamie set the Sky Q up in there.
For the first twenty minutes, I wondered if we'd been fed a pony. Where was the attacking gusto, the neat interplay? Sunderland barely jogged but their passing was slick and we desperately held them at bay. I got nervous watching Hladky try and pass to Woolfie at the back. It all seemed very naive from us. Chappers was off it, they were on us in a flash when we tried to bring it out.
Then, slowly, it happened. A Broady run and pass, a Morsy dogged fight in the centre, a Luongo body swerve and we started to come to life. True, George was on his own up front and finding him was like trying to find Private Ryan; it came with its fair share of bullets and long, hopeful punts.
The goal came at exactly the right time. An element of fortune, perhaps, but Broady's reluctance to celebrate was class, even though the pub erupted and did it for him. 1-0 at half-time, yet it came with the lack of conviction that we'd deserved it. Perhaps it was harsh but the general feeling was one of 'got out of jail' rather than jubilation. It all seemed a bit dangerous.
Second half, beer replenished, that stupid advert Sky sneak in just before the start roundly booed, we were off. And boy, were we off! We suddenly looked like 'end-of-season-Town' again. Hirst broke clear from a sublime Broady through ball and pumped it over Patterson. This time, lager flew and I fear the cleaners might have a job tomorrow morning. 2-0 at probably the most difficult away trip of this side of Christmas. It should have been three when Chappers turned on halfway and, to a chorus of groans from those who felt he should have run with it, hit the face of the bar. As Hirst galloped in for the rebound, his right leg cocked like a Golden Lab next to a lamppost, he fell from the challenge of Ballard and we were up, screaming at the flat-screen, convinced it was a pen. We missed Broady's follow-up which caught Ballard's hip and dribbled through to Patterson.
Faces turned red when the ref turned it down. One bloke shouted something that rhymed with Blunt. But the Three wise men weren't playing, and Sunderland, grateful for the let-off, went back to their strange walk/jog passing and movement. Jack Clarke fell under challenges both real and imaginary. Roberts tried taking the whole left side on by himself. They then had a player sent off for a crude challenge on Davis as he flew past.
Aside from their goal, which someone said Luongo should've been marking, and the Alamo in the last 13 minutes of extra time, which seemed generous given we'd both made subs and JD had been down for about 4 minutes, we held on and the Mckenna song was blasted as the whistle went, forcing several jubilant Arsenal fans to enquire who the F we were singing about.
It was a funny game. Both teams looked lethargic for long periods. Perhaps fitness takes time to grow once the season starts? I don't fancy us for top 6, not unless our proposed new signings have a bit more pace about them and are good to go. A few thoughts in conclusion based on the game:
1) JD and Burgess played well, Woolfie was immense. I do worry about Hladky in goal though, despite him making some good saves.
2) Harness got involved but isn't a long-term option, not in this league. Ditto Freddie, who should have squared it to Ball for that third chance.
3) We will get better as the season progresses, but if Sunderland are the benchmark for the play-offs, I'm not convinced by them this season. We might need patience as the team finds its feet. Defensively, we look pretty good though, and we're good at counter-attacking teams.
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