Well, the time has finally come, the season is finally over, and you will no longer have to put up with me wittering on in poetic form. And what a season it has been. I try to avoid even the most common of cliches, but it really has been something of a roller coaster ride for us Black Cats fans, from the lowest of the low with Mr Bruce, to Martin O'Neill and a reinvention of cup fever.
But, of course, you already know all of this. You were also along for the ride. So, how can I make the story of our season stand out from the crowd? Well, I can make it all rhyme (well, most of it), and hopefully raise a little smile to help you through those post-season blues.
So, for the final time this season, without further ado, ladies and gentlefolk, welcome along to Roker Rhymes.
It all started so brightly, all that time ago, way back when.
We were all bubbling with optimism, looking forward to things starting then.
Our squad had new additions, we'd signed players from Man yoo,
And the woes we had suffered before, no longer left us feeling blue.
A draw away at Anfield, was plenty to be happy about,
Despite a very rocky start, there was still plenty for which we could shout.
One-nil down but still in the game, I envy you if you were there,
When the beautiful Sebastian Larsson, scored a volley hanging in mid air.
Then of course it was the Mags, in our first game at the Stadium of Light,
And once again under Brucey, we slipped away without a fight.
Things didn't really improve either, despite us hammering Stoke,
And our team of potential heroes, were really starting to choke.
It's difficult not to look past the boss, for our early season form,
When frankly piss poor performances, had started to become the norm.
However according to the manager, it really of course wasn't his fault,
But something had to be done, the poor performances needed to halt.
A crippling decline at Wigan, was the final nail in Bruce's coffin,
We needed someone with more about him, we needed a football boffin.
And so came in Martin O'Neill, the Irishman that we all craved so,
And his instant transformation of our squad, was quickly put on show.
He only included one new player, Bruce's signing too, James McClean,
And my how the young man intoduced himself, came bursting onto the scene.
From then on we didn't look back, teams were brushed aside with ease,
And all of a sudden this football lark, was looking like a breeze.
Of course our biggest win in that period, came on our very own ground,
And it was Man City the visitors, this time around.
As the final seconds ticked by, our players bent double on the half way line,
Ji had just enough in the bag, to keep his composure just fine.
As the ball hit the net, and Sunderland had won,
It got too much for one fella, who needed a taste of Ji Dong Won.
He won't forget that in a hurry, it's probably why he hasn't scored since,
But for that one day only, Ji was our hero, our savoir, our prince.
Then of course came our cup run, as we battled past one team then another,
Putting to the sword, the Peter and the Middles of Boro.
Before our tricky test against Arsenal, that we passed with relative ease,
And a trip out to Wembley Stadium, was within distance enough to tease.
But as ever, it was the blue side of Merseyside, and David Moyes who ended us,
As we had two bites of the cherry against Everton, but they vanquished us with no fuss.
It was a disappointing end to the adventure, but also looks good for next year,
When hopefully we'll go at least one step further, and have a Wembley date to cheer.
Unfortunately, our players have been on holiday since, and our season kind of died,
Our performances were poor, we looked devoid of passion, fight and pride.
But next season is Marty's first fully in charge, when he can bring his own players to the club,
And we can fill the stadium each and every week, remember, don't watch the game in the pub.
These are exciting times to be a Sunderland fan, but I'm sorry for anything I have missed,
I haven't even mentioned the second derby, or the whole depressing Asamoah Gyan twist.
The improvement of Lee Cattermole, Nicklas Bendtner, or my love for little ginger Jack,
Oh come on summer, hurry up, we want out football back!