I’m one of those people who turns notifications on during the transfer window. I don’t want to miss anything and it just makes it all a bit easier.

Yesterday, the notification came. The one I knew was coming and had still not quite prepared myself for. “He lived the dream and we all wish him well in the next chapter of his career’ and despite all that mental preparation, there was still a lump in my throat when I realised this really was the end.

Dan Neil did not break into a Sunderland side full of confidence or momentum. He emerged when the club was crumbling, when belief was low and direction felt uncertain. A young, local lad from South Shields trying to find his place at his boyhood club while everything around him seemed to be falling apart. A light in Sunderland’s darkest days.

League One is not kind to young players. It is physical, relentless, and brutally honest. There is no protection and very little patience. Mistakes are magnified and reputations offer no shelter. Neil learned those lessons early, in hostile away grounds and in games where expectation outweighed quality. He took responsibility when it would have been easier to hide and kept turning up when others came and went.
In a team searching desperately for stability, he became a constant.

He understood what it meant to play for Sunderland, and more importantly, what it meant to the fans. That understanding never needed explaining. You could see it in how he played, how he carried himself, how he responded when the pressure rose. This was never just a job. It was personal.

That connection was clearest in the moments that mattered most. The night against Coventry, the way he celebrated with the crowd, not as a performance but as a shared release. It felt like recognition of what the club had endured, of how far it had come, and of what promotion truly meant. In that moment, it wasn’t Dan Neil the player that stood in front of that crowd, it was Dan Neil the fan marvelling at the sea of red, white and ecstasy.

To captain Sunderland back to the Premier League felt fitting. A lad who had seen our club at its lowest, leading us back to where we belong. Promotion was not just success. It was validation. It was his dream.
That is why this departure feels different. It feels like the end of a chapter rather than the loss of a player.

Dan Neil saw his boyhood club through its lowest point and came out the other side as one of the shining lights of the recovery. Through managers, rebuilds, and constant uncertainty, he remained. When so much else changed, he did not.
I did not just watch Dan Neil play for Sunderland. I watched him grow up while the club tried to find its feet again. I watched him become a true representation of Sunderland itself. Scarred, stubborn, and still standing.

So when the club wrote, “He lived the dream and we all wish him well in the next chapter of his career,” it landed heavier than most. Because it was true. He lived it fully. From the club’s lowest point to lifting the trophy that welcomed us back to the Premier League, he did not skip a single step.

That is where the lump in the throat comes from. Not just because he is leaving, but because something else is ending with him. A shared journey. A stretch of years that shaped both player and club.

Players come and go, Dan Neil left a mark.