Michael Beale is sucking all the joy from supporting Sunderland - and I don't really know how

Join me as I try to navigate my way out of a Michael Beale-created malaise and learn how to enjoy supporting Sunderland like I did before.

When you’re writing about Sunderland or any football in general really, it’s ultimately a simple enough thing. You take your carefully considered opinion, do some analysis, and present some facts to support it.

And that’s what I have been doing for nearly 15 years now. Readers have often disagreed with me, but no one will have ever been able to say I hadn’t backed up my views.

This one is different, though. It’s more difficult. There isn’t even any rationale, never mind analysis. In fact, not only is there not any rationale, but it is also going to be downright irrational – and I know it. It’s also going to be the most heartfelt piece of writing I have probably ever done on Sunderland.

Because, here’s the thing: I’m struggling, badly, with Michael Beale.

I know, I know, it’s too early to judge. Beale hasn’t had time to really get his way of playing over to the squad, he’s still learning about his players and results and performances haven’t been all that bad really. Let’s at least wait until we see what the squad looks like after January, and all that. All perfectly rational.

But, as I said, rationale does not live here. All those things above are in my head, but when it comes to Michael Beale, my head doesn’t seem to be in charge. It’s a feeling, a horrible one, a saddening one, and one I just can’t seem to kick no matter how hard I’ve tried – and I have tried.

The main problem I have is that it becomes harder with every passing day. There is just something about Beale that deflates me and drains my enthusiasm to depths that are generally reserved for the bleakest of times in the Sunderland story. He drains it faster than I can replenish it at the moment.

It’s not about results either. Beale has lost three of his six games, including a 2-1 defeat to Ipswich on Saturday. It was a decent enough performance and one from which I had few real complaints. The result was probably decided by Adil Aouchiche much more than it was Beale.

IMAGO / PA Images

The truth is, though, that even had Sunderland won the game, the feeling of dejection I have on all things Sunderland right now would not have gone anywhere. It didn’t after beating Hull and it didn’t after beating Preston.

It doesn’t go away when I read or write up his pre-match comments or his post-match thoughts. It doesn’t go away when I see a teamsheet announced. It doesn’t go away when I am watching games and, in truth, it doesn’t go away even when Michael Beale’s Sunderland score.

From the moment he was appointed I have just felt an inescapable malaise, like waves against the shore, constant and unending. He’s affecting me like the dreaded Dementors in the Harry Potter stories.

“They glory in decay and despair, they drain peace, hope, and happiness out of the air around them,” JK Rowling wrote of her creation.

“Get too near a Dementor and every good feeling, every happy memory will be sucked out of you.”

It’s a remarkably apt description for the effect that Michael Beale being at Sunderland is having on me.

I mean, he’s doing nothing wrong really. Seven points out of 15 isn’t a disaster, especially given a notoriously hectic festive period, some tough games and most of them being away from home. He’s talking positively about Sunderland, and his team selections have been okay.

I am sure he is a nice guy as well and one who has worked very hard to get where he is and is just wanting a chance to further his career and be a success. I know all that. I just feel something different, and no matter how much I try to rationale it away I just can’t shake it.

How do you articulate a feeling, though? I’m a middle-aged man with autism who has had a stutter all his life. It’s fair to say that articulating feelings is not my strongest suit. Indeed, it frustrated my partner so much that early in our relationship she gave up asking me directly and just played Billy Joel’s Tell Her About It on repeat until the penny dropped that she’d like a little more emotional openness in our conversations.

Perhaps I should start with it in its most simplistic form and take it from there: Supporting Sunderland brings me no happiness right now.

That has nothing to do with results, either. I’ve never had any problem deriving happiness from supporting Sunderland. I’ve always been the eternal optimist and found a way to believe. Even through truly dark days.

It’s also got nothing to do with any frustrations with ‘the model,’ the lack of an established striker or the complete and utter mess the club made over the Wear-Tyne derby.

In fact, I like the model, understand it’s tough to find quality strikers as no one wants to let them go, and am happy to accept Kyril Louis-Dreyfus’ apology on the derby stuff as long as there is some accountability somewhere.

It’s nothing to do with Mowbray leaving – I think it was probably the right time to be honest. It’s not a reaction to appointing an underwhelming manager. Lord knows in 37 years of supporting Sunderland I have seen plenty of those without them provoking this kind of reaction. It’s definitely nothing to do with the players because I love them. I think Sunderland have some really exciting and likeable young footballers.

It has nothing to do with expectation either, if you’re wondering. I thought Sunderland would finish between 8-10th in the Championship this season. I’ve seen little to dissuade me from that and I’m okay with it. I can wait for promotion. Just another step on the journey, a journey I was enjoying.

It’s just that since Beale arrived, despite everything staying the same – same players, same system, same results, same frustrations – the fun has gone. Win, lose, or draw, the fun has gone. Had Sunderland beat Ipswich rather than losing, I might not have been as angry afterwards, but I’d certainly not have been hopeful or joyous either.

IMAGO / PA Images

And that hope is important, especially as a Sunderland fan. This is a football club built on hope and daring to dream. I’m finding Michael Beale to be a natural inhibitor to both of those things.

In fact, since he arrived I have found my outlook on all things Sunderland has become the inverse of what it was.

I used to feel very connected to the club, now I feel disconnected. I used to feel hope out of hopelessness, now I feel hopelessness where hope should be aplenty. I used to watch Sunderland lose and find positives, now I watch Sunderland win and see negatives. I used to feel like I was on a journey with my club, now I feel like they have left me behind.

In all honesty, I feel bad for feeling that way. I feel guilty, I feel sad, I actually feel like I’ve lost a big part of myself somewhere within it. I certainly don’t want to feel like it, I just don’t know how to get past it, how to find my way out of the fog. Worst of all, I’m feeling like a bit of a sh*t supporter because of it.

But I also feel bad because, ultimately, Beale is doing nothing wrong. He completely deserves a fair chance, of course he does, and I have to be the first to admit that he’s not getting one from me. It’s not that I don’t want to give him it, I just don’t know how at the moment.

I don’t trust his words, I don’t rate his track record and I am not enjoying what he is delivering. There is something about his manner that feels very patronising too. Then there are the little things… the way he calls OUR club ‘MY team’… that really grinds my gears. The way he stands on the touchline with his hands in his pockets looking like a naughty schoolboy summoned to the headmaster’s office. The way he’s managed to find a way to publicly blame players for every one of HIS defeats.

These are all my problems, though, not his. He’s just being himself and fair play to him. They’re my obstacles to overcome.

I desperately want to, so I am going to have to figure it out somehow. I want to enjoy supporting Sunderland again and I want to feel that connection back. Truth be told, until Beale walked in the door, that connection felt stronger and more joyful than it had for years. I want that back.

Can it come back with Beale at the club? I don’t know. I hope so. Well, as close an approximation of hope as I can muster at the moment. I certainly don’t think he’s going anywhere anytime soon. In fact, I suspect Kristjaan Speakman still hasn’t even stopped patting himself on the back yet for appointing someone who’s a perfect shade a grey and speaks fluent LinkedIn.

With a bit of luck, Michael Beale goes on to become an enormous success at Sunderland and I find a way to enjoy it all again. In the meantime, I suspect I'll just have to endure. At least Sunderland have prepared me well for it. 

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