Sheffield Wednesday.
Ugh. Anyone who lives in Sheffield and supports United or Wednesday absolutely dreads this game. And if they don’t, they’re lying. Win, and it’s everything. Lose, and you wonder why you put yourself through it. A draw? Probably the best outcome for everyone.
I wasn’t expecting to be sat here writing this entry with United still in the bottom three after 15 games, but here we are. Still, perspective is everything, and it could be much, much worse. Take Sheffield Wednesday, a massive historic club run into the ground by a lunatic owner who came into this horrific game adrift at the bottom and in administration. With United and Wednesday both entrenched in the bottom three, it’s a sad indictment of the footballing city where this Godforsaken sport all began.
Pre-match.
The Wife, our niece, her mum and I made the short wet walk down the road to the famous old crumbling stadium, with my stomach on a 1,200rpm spin cycle. (Did I mention today was my birthday, too? Great.)
A full, bouncing Hillsborough is a horrible place to play football, and the Owls supporters definitely delivered a hostile welcome outside the away end, no doubt buoyed by the removal of the aforementioned lunatic owner. A tricky situation successfully navigated, we went in. Nerves shredded.
“My god, I feel sick.”
The match.
It’s fair to say the atmosphere from the home support in the ground could’ve got the better of us in the opening ten minutes. However, it’s what happens on the pitch that truly counts, and United started well and deservedly struck first.
Celebrating goals in derby matches is always a bit of a blur. You momentarily lose any awareness of your surroundings, thoughts, and personal space. So when Tyrese Campbell scored the Blades’ opener after ten minutes, the vociferous away end lost their minds. Me included. Some good work from United midfielder Jairo Riedewald winning the ball back on the edge of their box before laying off to fan favourite Callum O’Hare, who slipped it through to Ty, and he easily placed it past Wednesday ‘keeper Evan Horvath. Get the FUCK in. 0–1. Unitedites in dreamland.
Buoyed by the early goal, United took full control, with Wednesday struggling in possession and losing duels all over the pitch. The Blades should’ve made it two near the end of the first half, after a crossed ball in found veteran striker Danny Ings unmarked at the edge of the six-yard box, and he smashed it home — only for the assistant to put his flag up. Bugger.
It mattered not, though, as United saw out the rest of the half comfortably.
“I’ll take it.”
The second half began with United again fully in control, and it was soon 0–2 Blades. Sydie Peck stuck a leg out in the Owls midfield to win the ball back and send Tyrese Campbell away and through on goal, and he easily slotted home, again — his third goal in four matches against Wednesday. Some boy.
Game over? Almost. United had been dominant. Dominance that could, and should, have resulted in a few more goals for the away team. Substitute Tom Cannon (more on him shortly) missed a gilt-edged one-on-one chance when clean through, and debutant Patrick Bamford tried to turn one home with an audacious back heel, but to no avail. Wednesday continued to huff and puff, and tried to turn the game into a scrap, but they never got near us.
And so, to Tom Cannon. An expensive failure of a signing, with a single Blades goal to his name, and now a ridiculed figure amongst most United fans. The same Tom Cannon here who, as the game approached stoppage time, curled a beautiful shot from 25 yards into the bottom corner to make it 0–3, and empty three sides of the old stadium. The goal from the young beleaguered United striker sealed a deserved victory. Whatever happens in the remainder of his Blades career, today he’s joined the small group of United players who’ve written their names into Steel City derby history. Good for him.
The eventual full-time whistle was met with joyous celebrations, chanting, dancing, and outright jubilation from the away end. It had been as dominant a derby performance as we’d seen in years from United. There can’t have been many Steel City derby matches where the home team fails to register a single shot on target in 90 minutes.
Down and out Wednesday may be, but a win is a win.
“Campbell again olé, olé!”
Post-match.
The jubilant scenes in the away end were soon mirrored on the pitch post-match, with Chris Wilder and his former enemy Patrick Bamford leading the celebrations. Like last season when we won at Hillsborough, this was a team fully united with its supporters, if only momentarily. We had come in to our famous old rivals’ house and absolutely played them off the park.
Winning these games is brilliant, but today’s result also means we’re still in touch with the teams above us going into a crucial Christmas period. There’s still plenty to fix, and we’ll probably still struggle against the better sides in this division (for now), but two clean sheets in a row and four points in the last two games after the start we’ve had cannot be understated.
The wet walk home uphill didn’t seem half as taxing after that result, and overall, it had been a fucking good day. Happy birthday to me.
Up next in my away-day travels: Leicester City. See you there.
An extra big LIKE this week
psssst derby day with mother in law is a whole new world of torture man.. great read as per!