£100k a year on a cryo chamber only Martin Bain used
Part two of the Netflix documentary lifts lid on chaos Ross faced at Sunderland
IT was the moment when The Office met The Wolf of Wall Street — and the makers of
Sunderland ’Til I Die had their opening scene. Forget sport, this Netflix hit is a tragicomedy classic and
Sportsmail has been given exclusive access to all six episodes of the highly anticipated second series.
Where to start? Scene one. For it sets the tone for a show that is subtly underpinned by the friction inside a dysfunctional football club.
Charlie Methven, then Sunderland’s new executive director, is addressing staff in the summer of 2018, shortly after he and majority shareholder Stewart Donald had arrived at the recently relegated League One club, two southerners promising to re-engage with a disenchanted fanbase.
One of their first moves was to appoint Jack Ross, now Hibernian manager, who had just won the Scottish Championship with St Mirren.
As the Sunderland-supporting producers admit, they knew Eton-educated Methven was ‘TV gold’ from the moment they met him. He looks like a gentrified Del Boy, often acts like David Brent and has the furious, unashamed ambition of Gordon Gekko. And for all that, he is likeable.
‘This business was planning to lose £30-40million per year — it is a failed, f***ed-up business,’ declares Methven to staff, whose discomfort leaps from the screen.
‘And unless you guys understand that, you’ll never make it in this world. This was f***ed, 100-per-cent f***ed. It was on track to becoming the first large club to ever go properly bust.’
Methven proceeds to deliver a cutting appraisal of his new workforce and a triumphant assessment of himself.
‘I’ve inherited a fragmented, disillusioned, disunited team which has been leaderless,’ he says. ‘They need to see me doing things. They need to see and understand what “good” looks like. Stewart might not admit it but he looks to me for the “big vision”.’
Cut to Methven and the stadium DJ and his instruction to make the music before kick-off more like ‘a massive rave, a bit Ibiza’.
One member of staff rolls her eyes when Methven delivers a ‘Together Stronger’ speech. She later says he sometimes ‘oversteps the mark’. That episode ends with the employee carrying belongings to her car having been made redundant.
Donald, too, is unimpressed by the state of the club’s finances and the staff left behind by previous owner Ellis Short, the American billionaire.
‘It’s the biggest mess of a business I have ever seen,’ says Donald. ‘All these meetings (between staff)… number of ideas? Zero. Number of follow-throughs? Zero. This is typical Sunderland.’
During one meeting, he demands to know why they are paying £100k a year for a cryo chamber. He is informed that no players use it but, occasionally, former chief executive Martin Bain used to pop in to help ease his bad back... You shouldn’t laugh, but you do.
As with the first series, the access is far-reaching and the story it generates is real — this is no in-house promo and the club had no editorial control. Executive producer Leo Pearlman, of Fulwell 73 Productions, tells Sportsmail: ‘Our show was made for the vast majority of people who support their club through thick and thin, the majority being thin. ‘No offence to the Man City documentary or some others, but those were celebrations of great clubs winning everything with very little adversity — 99.9 per cent of sports fans globally have absolutely no connection to that. ‘I can’t really understand the arrogance and ego of believing that something that is self-funded — and is effectively a multi-part promotional piece — is going to have any interest to anyone, even your own fans.’
As part of their mission to reconnect with the community — and they are initially successful in that regard — the new owners visit social clubs across Wearside.
‘This place was an absolute s*** show,’ Methven tells supporters at one gathering. ‘The finance department didn’t know where the money was. It was deal after deal where Sunderland had been shafted. They just sent a cheque to a rich man (Short) in Florida.’
Come January, however, Donald himself is acting on impulse and ignoring the warnings of others when it comes to investment.
Sunderland are in the hunt for promotion back to the Championship and, during a transfer summit, Donald states that losing top goalscorer Josh Maja would leave them looking like ‘a bunch of numpties’.
He is later in his office when a television news flash reveals that Maja — out of contract in the summer — has rejected Sunderland’s offer of a new deal. ‘F***ing hell!’ he screams.
Maja subsequently joins Bordeaux for around £1.25m (it was reported as £3.5m at the time). Cue an angry phone call to Donald from manager Ross, who feels he has been left in the dark. ‘It was the best we could get,’ says Donald.
The final hours of deadline day arrive without a replacement striker. Wigan want £2m for Will Grigg. ‘Silly money,’ Donald tells head of recruitment Tony Coton over the phone, and Ross agrees.
‘He’s not worth any more than the offer you’ve put in,’ the manager tells Donald. ‘Please don’t go daft. He’s not worth it.’
What follows is Donald’s descent into desperation, albeit, you feel, motivated by the right reasons, for he knows the team need a goalscorer.
Wigan, though, have upped their demands. Donald finally returns with a staggering offer of £3m rising to £4m. ‘It doesn’t make financial sense,’ pleads head of football Richard Hill. Grigg signs with minutes of the window to spare, setting a new League One transfer record.
‘I’m resigning as chairman next December,’ says Donald. ‘I can’t f***ing do this again. This club is going to kill me. I can’t afford to pay for the pizzas we’ve ordered now!’
The following scene shows Grigg missing a string of chances in a 1-1 draw at home to Blackpool.
By the time of Sunderland’s appearance in the Checkatrade Trophy final at Wembley in March, it is apparent that Methven has serious doubts over Ross.
The Black Cats are clinging to a 1-0 lead in the second half. ‘He’s got to change it,’ scythes Methven from the directors’ box, before yelling towards the touchline: ‘Change it!’.
His partner intervenes. ‘Sweetheart, you have to calm down,’ she says. Methven is having none of it. ‘This is so us, we cannot f***ing string a good match together.’
Sunderland lose on penalties and Methven wants Ross to ask some ‘tough questions’ of himself. In hindsight, it is a surprise the manager survived until his sacking earlier this season, especially given what followed.
The Black Cats missed out on automatic promotion but were back at Wembley come May for a play-off final against Charlton.
By now, Donald was having reservations about his own ability to run the club. ‘We might not be able to financially finish this project and we need to recognise that,’ he says. ‘We get an investor or we have to sell.’
Promotion, then, would have been welcome. Again, though, they are beaten, the slow-motion footage of Charlton’s 94th-minute winner feeling a bit like the iceberg — you know it is coming but there’s nothing you can do about it.
As Donald leaves Wembley, a supporter asks him: ‘Are we ever going to be good, mate? I just want a bit of hope, are we ever going to get there?’
As of today, Sunderland are seventh in League One. Methven stood down in December and Donald is desperate to sell his stake. Grigg, meanwhile, has one goal from 20 league appearances.
Donald and Methven landed with a ‘big vision’. Little did they suspect their biggest success would perhaps be on the television.
‘Sunderland ’Til I Die’ Season 2 launches on Netflix on Wednesday April 1.