It is parochial in its intensity, local in its focus and short-sighted in its importance, but it is the only game that matters in the North-East.
The Tyne-Wear derby has few rivals. Every club likes to think its derby is the special one; unique in its significance and who can argue against them.
Every derby is important, special and passionate for those whose bragging rights are at stake.
But for me – and I was not born, bred or raised in the North East – this is one of the best for the sheer “perched on the edge of the cliff” sensation that comes with the build-up.
Anyone who has sat in the middle of a Newcastle vs Sunderland game and felt the tension, sampled the hatred, tasted the sweetness of victory or swallowed the bitterness of defeat will know what I mean.
For the Newcastle and Sunderland fans reading this, there will be some who have already started to feel a little queasy, the pulse will start racing, your body temperature will rise. It’s alright, open a window, you can come back to this when you’ve calmed down!
Before the corresponding fixture last season I sat on a wall and gathered my thoughts – it had been a late finish the night before – and suddenly found myself in the middle of the tribal warfare.
I’ve covered countless North East derbies, but I’d normally been in the comfort of the press room discussing the drama before it unfolded on the pitch. That had its moments.
The local Tyneside and Wearside press packs have their divisions on this matter and there is little camaraderie, before or after kick-off.
The hacks from the Sunderland Echo glare, as the boys from the Newcastle Evening Chronicle circle . As for the Northern Echo and The Journal – my old paper – there are Sunderland and Newcastle fans sharing desks and offices.
Thankfully, it has never come to blows, although I’m told it has come close on occasions. Most of the national journalists were born in the North-East and have their loyalties accordingly.
This time I wanted more fresh air so I was outside when things began to crackle. It started with a few boos and jeers in the distance. A few inaudible chants. More and more black and white shirts began to surround me. The boos and jeers grew louder. I had no idea what was happening, but I should have guessed.
Sunderland is only 12 miles away from Newcastle and is linked by the same Metro system, as well as train network.
Several hundred Black Cats had used public transport to get to the game and, flanked either side by police in riot gear, they were being escorted from Newcastle Central Station up to St James’ Park.
The atmosphere was hostility and defiance brought to the boil. You could see both sets of fans wanted to get at each other – and so did the police who were impressively swift in snuffing out any hint they would.
The threat of violence was palpable. It always is. Tindersticks and matches spring to mind. We can only hope the police keep a lid on it again.
It was magnificent and abhorrent at the same time. For two days of the year on derby day, there is nothing more than hatred, yet it is not so long ago that fathers would take their sons to Newcastle one week and Sunderland the next.
As someone from outside the region, I know the people of Newcastle and Sunderland, Northumberland and Durham, share far more in spirit, outlook and humour than they would care to admit. The North-East can be seen as a whole. Not that I would dare say as much on Sunday of course.
Sat outside St James’ Park – yep used it again – last season it was defenders versus invaders, Roundheads vs Cavaliers, the Mods (Geordies) versus the Rockers (Mackems), regional jealousy and rivalry fused with historical grievances.
This is about more than just a game of football, yet the result is all that matters 90 minutes later. Just ask those Sunderland fans who endured last season’s 5-1 defeat on Tyneside.
Then there is the national picture. Newcastle and Sunderland are probably the two biggest under-achievers in English football and that has helped attach far more importance to the derby than other clubs who have bigger things to worry about and celebrate.
They should have won far more between them, yet Newcastle have not lifted a piece of major silverware since the Fairs Cup in 1969. As for their last domestic trophy, you have to go back to the FA Cup in 1955.
Sunderland lifted that prize in 1973, but an entire generation of supporters has had nothing to celebrate other than promotion back to the top tier of English football.
League titles belong in the distant past and so the battle for local supremacy is a trophy both clubs fight for each year.
For former Sunderland manager Steve Bruce, it was defeat to Newcastle at the Stadium of Light back in August that pushed him towards the exit door.
After last season 5-1 defeat on Tyneside and their failure to beat the enemy on their own territory, the defeat at the start of this season was too much to take. There was also the small issue of Bruce being a Geordie too.
However, if you ask most Newcastle players, that 1-0 win was the game that launched them on their way to a surprisingly successful campaign that will see them entertain their rivals this weekend sitting sixth in the table.
Newcastle are ten points better off than Sunderland in the league, but lose at St James’ Park – oops that’s a third time – on Sunday and they won’t feel like it. This weekend, nothing else matters.
