Inside the incredible day Sunderland ended their eight-year journey and made all that pain worth it

Raise a glass and tell them that Sunderland did it. Tell them all about it, because they won’t believe it.

Tell them about Luke O’Nien leaving the pitch on oxygen and running down the touchline with his arm in a sling to celebrate an hour later. Tell them that we should have been behind inside two minutes but somehow Anthony Patterson clawed it away and, no, it wasn’t quite as good as Monty’s but I tell you what, it wasn’t all that far off.

Tell them about Trai Hume’s tackle, the one that had you wincing and roaring and believing all at once.

Tell them that we don’t talk about typical Sunderland anymore or ask why it’s never us because now somehow it is always us. Tell them about 94:35, how Sunderland started finding ways to win and then just never stopped. Tell them that Enzo Le Fée is Sunderland and Sunderland for good.

Tell them that in the end it really was worth it. That Sunderland’s eight years in the wilderness is over. That their club and their city is on the rise again. Tell them about how this was one of the greatest days of your life, even if for so long it looked like the wait would go on.

O’Nien had gone off after two minutes and it was an injury that badly disrupted Sunderland’s build-up play. For half an hour or so, they just couldn’t get going. Sheffield United were good, powerful and quick. They pressed and won duels and pushed Sunderland back, the chances not necessarily flowing but a sense of inevitability growing whenever Gus Hamer drifted infield and picked up the ball. Some turn of pace it was, Sunderland’s own corner in a second becoming their undoing. Some pass, taking three out of the game in a second. Some finish, too.

Then Harrison Burrows volleys into the bottom corner and you think, well that is probably that. That sinking feeling, that emptiness deep in the pit of your stomach, has been growing and now it settles. It’s going to be a long afternoon and it’s horrible, but it’s also OK. This team have been great and they’ve given us so much and today is just not their day. The opposition are just a little bit better, deeper pockets and a much deeper squad. We dreamed of something special but we knew it could go this way. Football rarely has time for romance and so we’ll suck it up and we’ll go again.

Besides, this isn’t really suffering. Not when you've been where we’ve been, seen the things we’ve seen. We’ve been to Rotherham and shipped five and been to Bolton and shipped six. We’ve lost with the very last kick of the game here and at that point we thought it wouldn’t ever be worth it, couldn’t ever possibly be worth it. We’ve been knocked out of a tinpot trophy at Scunthorpe and been outplayed at Cheltenham. Knocked out in the first round of the FA Cup and then again and then again. We watched the Stadium of Light hollow out, the Roker Roar now just a faint echo of the past. It all became a chore, an obligation. We were angry and then we were numb. So no, this doesn’t really feel like the end. It’s rough but really, it’s OK. It’s not our time but it’s coming and for now, that’s enough.

And then the big screen says there’ll be a check and you’ve watched enough Premier League football to know that this is going to be good news. The referee’s explanation is probably sound enough but his microphone isn’t great so you strain and pray you’ve heard it right. He’s just ruled it out, hasn’t he? You suspect this love affair with VAR will be brief but, right now, it’s everything.

Things just haven’t happened the way they’re supposed to of late and maybe it’s happening again. Sunderland start to play. They’re not great and they’re not really testing the goalkeeper but they’re up the pitch and they’re in it. Le Bris has switched Ballard and Mepham, giving Sunderland a little more power and intensity in their build-up play. He brings on Patrick Roberts even though his calf is in a state and Roberts drives as only he can do when on song. Mayenda picks his spot and Sunderland are level and they just keep going. Hamer is injured and Brereton Diaz comes on and then he’s injured. Ahmedhodžić gets injured and he’s off the pitch and Kieffer Moore, who has been pretty good really, inexplicably passes it straight into the feet of Tommy Watson.

Normally you’d say nah, no way. The boyhood Sunderland fan, about to leave for Brighton and so booed by some a few weeks ago, running at goal deep into stoppage time. It never actually happens like this in football and certainly not to bloody Sunderland. Well, at least, that’s what we used to think.

You wait for Watson to smash it towards the top corner but instead he just unfurls the most delicate, precise finish. It rolls slowly but inevitably for the bottom corner and you have just enough time to think oh my god, they’re going to do it. And it’s going to be worth it.

All those days you thought you’d had enough, all those long trips that brought no points, no joy. They were worth it to be here for this, to see Sunderland take over again.

So raise a glass to those we lost along the way, those we held tight for a Wise Men Say for the ages. Thank them for introducing you to this quite ridiculous club, this way of life. Tell them that Sunderland are back, and it has never felt so good.

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