Setting off at 5:40am on the coach, through sleep-deprived eyes, my dad and I knew that today was something very special. We were one game away from our rightful return to the Premier League.
After seven hours of discussing who we thought should be in the line-up, a long queue at a service station in Leicester for breakfast, and pulling over because the luggage compartment was open, we arrived at Wembley, and it all sank in - this was it. With nerves and excitement building, we followed the Red and White Army into the unknown, took our seats, and waved our red-and-white flags, with nothing but faith in this special team.
Sheffield United opened the scoring in the 25th minute, with Tyrese Campbell making it 1-0 to the Blades. Before we knew it, they scored again, as I reiterated to my dad, “’Til the End,” with hope still in my heart. VAR came to the rescue to keep it 1-0, and Sunderland were back in the game.
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Of course, in Sunderland fashion, ’Til the End was taken literally, with the Black Cats going on to equalise with a stunner from Mayenda and then a 95th-minute winner through local lad Tommy Watson, as a fitting and unforgettable send-off to his boyhood club.
The Sunderland end erupted as Tommy glided it into the net, and the Roker Roar could be heard all the way back at the Stadium of Light.
As calls for the final whistle grew, we nervously stood in bewilderment at what had just happened. Had we done it? Seconds away from promotion, I turned to my dad, knowing what it meant to him, to me, and to every Sunderland supporter.
The final whistle blew after what seemed like an eternity, and the Black Cats were victorious. Cries of passion erupted as Sunderland returned to where they always belonged: the Premier League. We looked on in awe of our beloved club, sang until our voices cracked, and watched in amazement as Sunderland lifted the trophy.
Eight years away from the Premier League. Back-to-back relegations. Four years stuck in League One. All the pain was lifted on 24th May 2025.
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The coach back consisted of exhaustion, dead phone batteries, and just a sheer desperation for sleep, but none of it mattered. We were Premier League.
Pulling back into the Stadium of Light, home sweet home, after such a long journey felt so special. I had visions of all the emotions my dad and I had felt in this stadium: from frustration to heartbreak, the tears had now been lifted with the full-time whistle at Wembley, and Sunderland were back.
Sunderland AFC is an incredibly special club that gets under your skin. Sunderland ’til I Die or Sunderland ’til it kills me, it has given me memories with my dad that I will cherish forever. Ha’way the Lads.