As I make my way to the Stadium of Light on Friday evening there is part of me expecting the 'town bridge' to have been replaced by a replica of the Humber. That the pillars of Penshaw Monument are adorned in black and gold - you know, just to welcome the travelling contingent from Hull.

There is, however, no truth to the conjecture that Michael Beale, at half-time, will re-enact the famed team talk delivered on the field of play by Phil Brown in the midst of a defeat at the Etihad.

Levity to one side, it does beg the question as to just what prompted such a monumental lack of awareness. Whereas once, clubs would be innovative in ways to ensure as little welcome as possible, within the rules but on the border of the spirit, it is hard to find anything comparable from the annals of football history. 

Two weeks have passed, speculation abounds about how exactly we arrived at a degree of farce unavailable through any pantomime or comedy. From the oft espoused references that the empowered of clubs don't care, understand, or both, all the way to an agent provocateur who, once the dust has settled, may be able to dine on the Tyne ad infinitum. 

Me, I still can't land on any conclusion. What is evident, however, is that whilst this incomprehensible sequence of events may be fresh in the memory, it is not the first time that Sunderland have allowed for an impression of contentment at being an extra of the main feature and oblivious to their starring role. 

In the North East of England the club is one of the ‘Mitchell brothers’ – the giant of Grant, the portend of Phil – who is who you can decide, yet often, internally, they come across as barely Billy. 

A desire to be liked, even loved, but coexisting with an anathema to being the recipient of respect, even fear. A trepidation in acquiring confidence just in case it is perceived as arrogance. 

The greats of the game – player, manager or club – do not care for popularity. Certainly not at the expense of success. They strive forward with little consideration for ‘likes’ to bring a contemporary feel. There is focus and fortitude that coexist with ethos and standards. And little to no reflection is offered to any begrudges, often those who occupy the space for the also rans.

There is a lot to admire about what has transpired over the last 18 months. Promotion followed by a play-off position. Whilst the primary architect of the latter has left the scene - his public inferences, arguably at least, overstepping the mark - he has left a style that was often effective and certainly entertaining.

 

READ MORE: KIERON BRADY: The silver-lining from Sunderland's derby defeat

 

The role of Beale should not be to implement sweeping changes in an attempt to satisfy personal preference, but merely to opt for slight alterations that can make positive differences. He, like any manager, will always feel that reinforcements across all areas would be of benefit, but this is not anything to resemble a utopia.

He will have, in accepting the position, verbally complied with the terms and conditions, the spoken small print that is reflected in the age of recruits and their weekly remuneration.

All that said, football is not as binary as the modern game may dictate. You can succeed in adversity. Behind the scenes can be somewhat chaotic whilst running alongside is a functioning side that is detached from the financial decision makers and the corridors of power.

Players, generally, are far too self-engrossed to worry about events in the stands or any deterioration in a relationship between others in and around the club.

And that, in the main, is a good thing.