At this present moment in time, Tony Mowbray’s cherubic Sunderland squad is reminisce of a child’s laser tag birthday party; there is plenty of youthful energy, somebody seems to be picking up a minor bump or scrape every five minutes, and the weapons – despite looking the part – are seriously lacking in live ammunition. You would also assume that there is an abundance of sugar-adjacent treats kicking about somewhere, but that’s probably more to do with the manager than his playing staff.
On December 30th last year, a desperate Everton recalled striker Ellis Simms from his loan stint at the Stadium of Light. Twenty-nine days later, Ross Stewart’s Achilles fell off during an FA Cup clash with Fulham. It was a fitting timeframe given that to most Sunderland fans, this felt like a zombie apocalypse, but just a little bit worse.
As I sit here and write this article, eight months further down the line, neither one of these players has been adequately replaced. Granted, the adorable Joffy Gelhardt was drafted in on a temporary agreement from Leeds United for the second half of last season – although he ultimately proved about as lethal as a pool noodle in a jousting contest – and Sunderland have swooped to bring in attacking prospects Luis Hemir and Eliezer Mayenda (the former being dropped for known non-striker Bradley Dack after one start, and the latter, in the Mackem tradition, sustaining an injury before the ink was dry on his contract), but still the club head into these final, fraught throes of the transfer window woefully under-prepared in a vital area of the pitch.
Factor in the loss of talismanic loanee Amad Diallo, and whereas last season’s improbable run to the play-offs felt like storming the Bastille with a spud gun, this time around is more akin to going over the top with a cardboard cut-out of a water pistol. It speaks volumes that the Black Cats recorded their first win of the campaign last Saturday with 17-year-old midfielder Jobe (a stylised mono-moniker in the vein of Cher or Howard from the Halifax adverts) leading the line come the final whistle. He may have scored a brace against Rotherham United, but this is not sustainable.
It is made doubly irksome by just how generally positive Sunderland have looked otherwise. Two defeats in three matches might suggest a sluggish start to the new season – and in some respects, the table doesn’t lie – but so many of the Black Cats’ problems feel as if they would be solved by the presence of an effective striker. Heading into the weekend at this fledgling stage of the campaign, Mowbray’s side rank fifth in the division for expected goals, 23rd for expected goals against (which, believe me, is a good thing), and second for average possession percentage. In other words, they are keeping the ball, creating chances, and giving away few opportunities in return. All they are lacking is somebody to put the ball in the back of the net.
How much longer that will be the case remains to be seen. Certainly, there is confidence within the club that a striker will be located, bundled into a burlap sack, and unveiled, blinking and only slightly dazed, at the Academy of Light before the transfer window guillotines shut. If reports from Ukraine are to be trusted, then that process may already be somewhat close to its conclusion. After weeks of speculation, journalist Igor Burbas (delighfully fun to say, by the way) claims that an agreement has finally been reached between the Black Cats and Zorya Luhansk for versatile forward Nazariy Rusyn.
Because that’s the thing here – in recent weeks, Mackem TwitterTM (sorry, Elon lad, nobody is calling it ‘X’) has been a pretty gloomy place. At times, it has put the ‘doom’ in ‘doom scroll’. As exasperation has flared so have pessimistic tempers, and to an extent, that’s fair enough. Expectations have burgeoned in line with the wild feats of last season, and supporters just want what is best for the club.
But on the pitch, in particular, there are reasons to be hopeful, and reasons to believe that this boyish, exuberant team are just a piece or two of the puzzle away from everything snapping gloriously into focus.
As such, my message for now would be this: things will come good, don’t panic. Unless, of course, we get to 11pm on Friday and Sunderland still haven’t signed a proper striker. In which case, feel free to panic as much as you like. Hell, I’ll even join you.
