Well, well, well. Wellety, Wellety, Wellety.
A lot has happened since I blessed you with the now infamous “The Season is Dead” article, and I thought I would pop back for some lovely insight into the final day of the season, with the season very much firmly alive.
When I said the season was dead, it wasn’t exactly the most outlandish of predictions, was it?
Just a month or so prior, I had waxed lyrical about the squad and about Tony Mowbray, and loudly proclaimed we would be finishing fifth at the end of the season. We lost three games in a week afterwards, culminating in the humiliation at home to Alex Neil’s bald Stoke City side.
It was that result that led to that article, and honestly, after that Stoke game, did you really think we would be heading to Preston with a chance? If you did, fair play. Your name must be James Reay.
We’ve established now that whatever I say, the opposite happens, so I’ll leave the Preston game well alone as I’m not getting the blame for this.
A word though, for the team over the last few weeks. Getting the result at Burnley was one thing, beating Norwich was another and then the win at West Bromwich Albion was pretty much extraordinary to be honest. Heading to the Hawthorns with no central defenders and no strikers as such, and getting that result really was impressive.
A word too for Joe Gelhardt, who in recent weeks has shown why half the league wanted to sign him, and shown just how much he’d have been if, as planned, he’d been paired with Ross Stewart. A shame, ultimately, but fair play to him, he looks rejuvenated.
The win in the Midlands, and the late winner over Birmingham ensures that we have something to play for on the last day.
Preston don’t, and nor do Middlesbrough, who we need to do us a favour over Coventry.
What do I think will happen? I’m not saying. Use your imagination.
Will it be typical Sunderland, and results go our way, but we draw? Or will we get the win we need, and other results not go our way? Here’s a spoiler, none of those scenarios are happening…
Let’s just say, come 5pm next week I’ll be dusting the address book off and buying endless mints. Run. It. Back.