Sunderland's first Europa League night was unprecedented - but it wasn't entirely unfamiliar
Sunderland beat AZ Alkmaar 1-0 in the Europa League on Wednesday night.
Did any of us really believe we would ever see days like these? Through the purgatory of League One, the repeated play-off misfires, and the drizzle of Netflix tears, the prospect of Sunderland ever so much as sniffing European football felt miserably laughable. There is a reason that a certain fanbase just up the road sang about an absence of Mackems in Milan with such cocksure conviction.
And yet, as unprecedented - in a modern sense - as Wednesday night was, there was an air of familiarity to the spectacle. UEFA’s pre-match anthem might have made for a grandiose addition, and there was certainly a touch of the uncanny about seeing the governing body’s branding plastered across every flat surface in sight, but truthfully, so much of the occasion felt unequivocally... Sunderland.
There was the crackle of the air on the walk through town beforehand, the acrid waft of red flares and the mounting, rabid bellow that met the arrival of the team bus. There were the packed terraces half an hour before kick-off, the teeth-shattering thump of “Ready to Go” ebbing into the usual heart-swelling rendition of “Can’t Help Falling in Love” - so loud it could probably be heard all the way over in Graceland.
And so, in some ways the scenes might have been bigger than before - the tifo rising multi-layered like a monstrous pop-up book, the fireworks careering off into the mild Wearside night - but in others, this was a projection of pride and identity for which Sunderland have had more than their fair share of dress rehearsals in recent times. From Coventry City in the play-off semi-final to West Ham upon their long-awaited return to the Premier League, right through to the first derby day of last season, the foundations for a night like this have been in place for quite a while. This was just an amplification for a watching continent, the next logical step on a dizzyingly illogical journey.
On the pitch, things started nervy. Robin Roefs had about 70% of possession on his own in the opening exchanges as AZ Alkmaar simply refused to press him, and Enzo Le Fée nearly gifted the visitors an opener on a velvet pillow with an uncharacteristically wayward moment, but slowly, steadily, the Black Cats settled, and as they did, the home faithful began to bay for blood. Every turnover in the final third, every crunching reducer - even Kevin Danso’s speculative thunderbolt from the next postcode over - were cheered with gladiatorial verve. When Le Fée then struck the post in the midst of the storm, there was general sense of bemusement as to how the hosts weren’t ahead.
Perhaps Regis Le Bris’ men relinquished a measure of control in the name of pageantry. There was more midfield pinball than we’ve become accustomed to of late, and in turn, there was an opportunistic openness to Sunderland’s attacking endeavours too. Prior to the interval, they did just about everything but score.
The second half brought a resumption of the cut and thrust. Kees Smit slithered an effort wide of the upright, Wilson Isidor lashed a strike into the Roker End. Then Alkmaar found their rhythm a little and Sunderland, in turn, lost a little of their bullishness. Le Bris’ response was to ready Brian Brobbey, bullishness incarnate.
Before the Dutchman had a chance to enter the fray, though, the Black Cats made their first scamper forward in a while, Le Fée was tripped in the box, and the little magician picked himself up to bury the resulting penalty. Uncork the bedlam - a first European goal in more than half a century scored by a man who bought into Kyril Louis-Dreyfus’ unthinkable pipe dream earlier than most. And then Brobbey came on. Kick a team while they’re down, Regis.
But there would still be frightening moments to weather. Only a combination of Roefs and Danso and Dan Ballard, in no particular order, prevented a certain Alkmaar equaliser as Sunderland threw anything and everything on the line in a bid to preserve their slender lead. Up the other end, Brobbey combined with fellow substitute Nilson Angulo to produce a series of incalculable misses that only became remotely amusing in the wake of the final whistle.
The Echo has launched a new WhatsApp SAFC Channel to bring the latest news, analysis and team & injury updates direct to your phone. Simply click this link to join our SAFC WhatsApp channel.
In the end, however, this was the kind of performance that we have witnessed Sunderland chisel out time and time again domestically in recent seasons. They fought harder, for longer, and with a greater ruthless streak than their opponents - and eventually, they earned their just rewards.
But Wednesday was about more than a result. It was about the Stadium of Light, under the lights, realising a destiny it never knew it was meant for. How could it? When the Geordies, backed by their sovereign wealth fund, beat a bunch of Championship also-rans and gloated by taking a photograph on the pitch, or when Chris Maguire scored that hat-trick and celebrated nose-to-nose with Lee Johnson, what right would anybody on Wearside have had to suggest that memories like this lay ahead?
For years, Sunderland have been the butt of jokes, their fans conditioned to embrace a kind of grounded pessimism. Lately, that has all changed. And while it is true that their presence in the Europa League this season was wholly unexpected, if Wednesday night was proof of anything, it is that they have already created enough spectacle and done enough legwork under Le Bris to make themselves at home on this new, exciting stage.
Your next Sunderland read: Trai Hume's brilliant response to a 'crazy' few years at Sunderland and message for squad