At half-time in the 2014 League Cup final, Sunderland led Manchester City 1-0. Yaya Touré equalised with a casually brilliant 30-yard clip 10 minutes after the break, and City went on to win 3-1. City, we now know from the independent commission, were at the time involved in a prolonged and calculated act of cheating, while Touré, the leaks in Der Spiegel suggested, was being paid via a dual contract to disguise exactly how much City were spending.
Although precise details were left to the appendices, the commission’s report refers to payments “not recorded in an employment contract … but instead recorded in a consultancy agreement”. Had Sunderland won, they would not merely have ended a 41-year wait for a trophy but would have qualified for the following season’s Europa League. It’s possible, of course, that the strain the extra games placed on the squad would have led to relegation in 2015, rather than the familiar trope of sacking a manager, in this case Gus Poyet, midway through the season, and surviving thanks to a bump under his successor, Dick Advocaat.
But it’s also possible that the greater exposure brought by European football, the surge of positivity engendered by unfamiliar and unexpected silverware, may have led to Premier League consolidation, stability and semi-regular European qualification. Should Sunderland feel cheated? Of course they should, just as those who came second behind Lance Armstrong should feel cheated; just as Liverpool and Arsenal should feel cheated over the League Cup finals of 2016 and 2018; just as Stoke should feel cheated over the 2011 FA Cup final; just as Manchester United should feel cheated over the Premier League titles in 2012 and 2018 and Liverpool should in 2014; just as every club who played in the same competitions as City between 2009 and 2018 should feel cheated.
But does that mean the 2014 League Cup should be taken from City and awarded to Sunderland? These are two different questions, and it’s probably best to deal with the latter first – and this, unfortunately, is where subjectivity is unavoidable. I can’t speak for other Sunderland fans but, personally, I wouldn’t want it.
Perhaps this comes from never having seen my club win a major trophy. If it happens, I want it to be pure. I want images that will be remembered down the generations, like the highlights of 1973 – Ian Porterfield’s goal, Jim Montgomery’s save and Bob Stokoe’s celebratory skip across the pitch in mac and trilby.
I want the surge of adrenaline when a goal is scored, the agonised wait of injury time, the rush of the final whistle. I want tears and hugs and community and togetherness, all the things my dad’s generation banged on about. I want to get drunk and sing on a train.
Extract — continue reading at the source.
