Roker Rhymes: A So-So Trip To The Shores Of Swansea

If I was to be a little paranoid, I would be starting to think by now that this feature might be a bit of a curse for the lads...

Through every fault of my own, I didn't write these weekly poems every week last season, and when I did, they were generally about defeats. I honestly think that I can remember one positive poem, perhaps two at a stretch.

And, of course, it's still ongoing this time around. Worry not, I'm not about to dive into a rant about our form, or the manager, I am of the opinion that our result wasn't all that bad, I'm just saying... If we don't win soon, the poems are going to have to stop, for all of our sakes!

And without further ado...

Be calm, Sunderland fans, one and all,
And listen to, my spirited call.
Just remember that, a draw away,
Doesn't always spell, a terrible day.

It's a tough old league, the English top tier,
Packed with worries, doubts and fear.
So even though, they are new to this game,
A draw at Swansea, doesn't warrant too much blame.

I know we keep saying that, on another day,
We'll take our chances, make the opposition pay.
But surely it can't be far from right,
That opposition's net bulging will be a welcome sight.

So Saturday, and our long trip away,
We upped sticks and went to Wales for the day.
Our support in fine voice, all merry and gay,
We almost scored straight up, from Paddy O'Shea.

And then the game was kind of on a par,
But the Swans had the best two chances by far.
A skip inside, Sinclair made of our men toast,
And we were all relieved, to see his strike hit the post.

Then god knows how, but Graham missed,
A header that most could have scored pissed.
And at the other end Gyan decided not to pass,
With a chance open for Colback that could be scored by a lass.

The second half was pretty tight stuff,
And to be honest, our frontline was finding it tough.
There's plenty speculation, about what's wrong with Gyan,
I think we need to let him know, he's still the main man.

More than once, his touch let him down,
And the usually happy Ghanaian, was hit with a frown.
So Wickham came, to take his place,
And looked quite tidy, with power, and pace.

But as the game just petered out,
We were left ruing a lack of striking clout.
And started up, the speculation,
Of what Bruce might do, before the window leaves the station.

A big day, is Wednesday, for me, you, us all,
As we wait to see which striker, Bruce has called.
Crouch? Cisse? Carlton Cole, I'll bet,
Just somebody, please, who can find the net.

We've all got a rest now, in international week,
Although the thought of watching England, is rather bleak.
But it gives the lads a chance, to think and to rest,
And come back to prove, that Sunderland, are the best.

So onwards and upwards, let's sing and let's shout,
And, for now at least, forget about Bruce out.
You can throw away any banners, put them firmly in the bin,
And trust the decisions of our hero, of that man, Niall Quinn.