Were my expectations too high?

Not really. I didn't assume that Europe was within our grasp.

I didn't predict that we were going to finish in the top 10.

No, I was cocky enough to think that maybe we would do well enough to avoid the nerve-shredding battle against relegation.

That'll teach me for getting above my station.

So what now? Well, actually I'm at a loss.

The usual unstinting belief that we will pull through has all but vanished.

And as for the rallying cries or the calls for the team to stand up and be counted, quite frankly, I'm sick of hearing and reading them (particularly my own).

As for the matches, well I'm finding it hard to (a) motivate myself to go through it all over again, and (b) to concentrate on what's going on in front of me.

In fact, instead of taking in the game I'm distracted by the radio, waiting with bated breath, biting my nails and hoping that scores elsewhere can give me some small shred of hope.

Now I'm not sure what difference I think listening to other games will do – after all, shouting, chanting and supporting my own team hasn't had any affect.

Wishing, praying and pleading has also brought no significant results, so why should putting in an earpiece magic up the desired result?
Well it probably doesn't, but at this stage in the game I'm willing to try anything.

I've been thinking that maybe the key is to expect nothing and then, when they deliver a woeful display, it won't hurt so much (then again, maybe not).

In truth, probably the only thing I can do is sit, hope, keep everything crossed and wait until it's all over.

Of course, the waiting isn't easy – mind you, nothing about supporting Sunderland is ever easy.

Still, that doesn't excuse some of the woeful displays we have had to endure this term.

It's all very well hearing them calling for the fans to get behind the team, or players vowing to put things right, but all the soundbites or paper talk in the world doesn't add up to a single Premier League point.

Fans can back players to the hilt, but only they can put this sorry mess right – not that I'm holding my breath for any of them to deliver on what they keep promising in print.

So the anxiety trip that is following the Black Cats continues.

And no doubt we will be back to do it all again next season.

You just wish that, for once, things would go to plan and we could have a season in the top flight to be proud of (there I go again, getting ideas above my station).

Still, we live in hope – you have to, don't you ..?