‘The club was finished’ – inside Sunderland’s TV drama

A groundbreaking television series that chronicled the club’s turbulent 1996-97 campaign has come to mind now that Sunderland has returned to the Premier League. It attempted to capture the changing nature of football while also causing heartache.

“Men against boys”, railed an incensed Peter Reid as his Sunderland side trailed visitors Wimbledon by two goals at half-time of their December 1996 match.

“Throughout the pitch,” “all. Weak, he continued, leaving the dressing room after urging his guests to “get on with it.”

Only a few minutes into the first episode of Premier Passions, the expletive-filled diatribe provided an eye-opening introduction for viewers of BBC One.

Reid continues to cite that rant as saying, “Every now and then, you’ve got to get into players.” However, it wouldn’t work if you practiced it every week. I’m not that stupid.

When I see the lads, I still laugh at it despite how brutal it looks.

The television program, which aired in February and March 1998, also covered how to capitalize on the commercial opportunities opening up as the game’s top flight, then known as the Premiership, gained acclaim as the club prepared to leave its adored Roker Park home after nearly a century.

When a letter from the BBC proposing the production landed on the desk of Lesley Callaghan, the club’s head of PR, she and the board saw it as an opportunity to document a “historic moment”.

After the Taylor report regarding the Hillsborough tragedy, it seemed like something significant was happening with the expansion of the Premier League, TV deals, and the construction of new grounds. It gave me an opportunity to participate in that.

” We all felt there would never be a bigger story to tell. Everyone put in a lot of effort to help the club and the city.

The club floated on the London Stock Exchange to raise money for the Stadium of Light, which was being constructed at Monkwearmouth, where blackened miners had toiled for decades before their colliery was shut down, according to Sir Bob Murray, chairman at the time and current life president.

” It was a very testing time. Roker Park had no future. Because of the emotions it evoked, it was difficult for people to comprehend, but I was aware of it.

“We only turned over about £4m and were losing money. Even though Roker had about 22, 500 seats, we only sold out in the Roker match against Newcastle and Manchester United that year. No training facilities were present.

There to cover those storylines on behalf of the BBC – which had full editorial control – was director John Alexander, born only a few miles away in the County Durham town of Peterlee.

He explains, “The people I worked with assumed Sunderland to be my club.” I didn’t know a lot about football, though.

“But it’s so much a part of that area that I said I’d love to do it because I knew it was never just going to be about the sport. The fans, the location, and everything else were all involved.

Reid says his fears soon vanished after initially he was hesitant to let cameras enter the dressing room.

“They were a good crew, great lads. Some of the scenes that feature me entering the players are due to the company’s ability to produce quality TV, I suppose.

There were other instances where I was quite measured and tactically wise, [but] it just serves to illustrate my approach.

Alexander recalls a “cat and mouse” encounter with the manager, who he believed might not want to be “put under the microscope.”

“I met Peter and he was great, telling us we could have whatever we wanted.

We promised to put a microphone on your overcoat so we won’t have to interfere with you the first time, and we said that’s to make things as simple as possible. He didn’t, of course, wear his coat.

“Then half-time comes at a game and we’ve been promised we can go into the team talk. We entered the door, and he literally said, “You lot can get out for a start,” about ten seconds later.

Alexander, who was in charge of a small team of two researchers, a cameraman, and a sound engineer, realized that “this can’t go on; you can’t trust us.”

“After that we had to have a conversation, saying if we didn’t get the access it really wasn’t going to work and we weren’t out to stitch him up.

I can remember him saying, “I hope you’re not just going to have me effing and jeffing the entire time.”

The 50-minute episodes, which started in December 1996 with the club in mid-table, also featured staff and supporters as Sunderland moved into the bottom three, hampered by injuries to Niall Quinn and Tony Coton, who had both been injured.

According to Alexander, “as the weeks went on, the results began to take a little nosedive.” “But there was a certain point where everyone realised there was no going back.

“And actually everyone started to realize that this was an opportunity to show people their commitment when things were going against them and that decisions weren’t quite what the fans’ perceptions were. That transparency ultimately succeeded.

Approaches for forwards Ronen Harazi – jokingly referred to as ‘ RoboCop ‘ because of a metal rod in his leg – and Jon Dahl Tomasson proved fruitless, while a late-season deal for Chris Waddle was branded a” panic buy “by a supporter on camera.

Vice chairman John Fickling, who was trying to show they had no lack of ambition, went through a list of missed targets, including Rangers’ Paul Gascoigne and Manchester United’s Andy Cole and Paul Scholes.

Reid acknowledges that those inquiries were inconclusive.

Murray acknowledges that “no money was left over.”

You haven’t got any money running around [for players] to build a stadium like we did. You’ve got banks and building contracts having to be paid. Every month, there was a significant cash outflow.

The final day of the season was spent watching Sunderland fight.

But their fate would be decided by another meeting with Wimbledon and a 1-0 loss at Selhurst Park saw them tumble back into the First Division a year after being promoted as champions, despite their 40-point tally – a then-record.

Reid was “shell-shocked” by the situation, which left him twice as a league winner while he was playing for Everton.

I’m not a moron. I had a few sleepless nights worrying about it and I was conscious of the share price, but I always thought we had a good chance]of escaping]. “

Callaghan, who later became a club director, traveled to a BBC headquarters in London with Murray and Fickling because they were eager to watch all five episodes.

She says, “People take the mick out of Bob for the boardroom discussion about gold taps for the executive toilets.” But he laughed along in the same way as the fans. “

The musical accompaniment, which included a voice-over from Peterlee-born actress Gina McKee, was a church-like choral arrangement in a nod to supporters who view the game as akin to a religion.

When the series was broadcast in an after-the-watershed slot, Reid says his players – and family members – tuned in.

The lads hammered me, I thought. That’s how I put it, I have plenty of stick.

“The only time I got into trouble was with my Auntie Mary, God rest her soul, who was a staunch catholic. She did, in fact, give me a telling off for my language.

The production is remembered fondly by everyone involved and praised for helping the club win new supporters.

While Roker Park’s stands were often half-full, today there is a waiting list for Stadium of Light season tickets despite the ground’s 48, 000 capacity.

Before leaving Sunderland in October 2002, Liverpudlian Reid once more led Sunderland to promotion in 1999 and two consecutive top-tier titles.

Given the limitations and squad youth, he says the campaign featured in Premier Passions was “possibly the best achievement.”

“It was a brutal league and it caught up with us. He explains that it was just a matter of trying to escape through the hatches.