THIS FIXTURE, LAST SEASON: Balotelli and Kolarov enjoying a full and frank exchange of views regarding the taking of a set piece. Two grown men. 2 min: A fairly shapeless beginning to the match, although it's worth noting that Sunderland have enjoyed as much possession as the champions so far. And we're off! City get the ball rolling, in front of a not-particularly-full-looking City of Manchester Stadium. Perhaps there's a big queue at the pie stand. Do people still queue at pie stands at football? With their rattles? And ration coupons? Right here, right now, right here, right etc. The teams, soundtracked by the cutting-edge sounds of 1999, take to the stage. They shake hands, smile, and we'll be off in a wee minute or two. Anyway, MBMs don't have enough Golf Satire for my money. Golf Satire, anyone? "Ah Scott," sighs Roy Allen. After the most wonderful sporting event imaginable last weekend, you're now back to mundane reality in the shape of diving, pouting, flouncing millionaires 'performing' in front of baying, seething mobs. Actually, there are some similarities. After 40+ years of dedication I'm on the verge of falling out of love with football. I seem to spend more time reading legal documents than match reports, assessing players on the basis of their morality rather than their footballing ability. Year by year the soapy suds of the Premier League get more and more depressing. Is this the game to pull me back from the brink of desertion? Let's hope so. I could do with a five-goal thriller, and with the possible exception of Liverpool, City are the most unpredictable (read porous and currently a wee bit hapless) side in the league. Make us believe again, people. Make us believe. Referee: Lee Probert (Wiltshire) Sunderland, starring former City winger Adam Johnson, make one change with Carlos Cuellar replacing Titus Bramble, effectively an extra man: Mignolet, Gardner, O'Shea, Cuellar, Rose, Johnson, Larsson, Colback, McClean, Sessegnon, Fletcher. Subs: Westwood, Campbell, Kilgallon, Vaughan, Meyler, Bramble, Saha. Manchester City, who are without captain Vincent Kompany: Hart, Zabaleta, Richards, Lescott, Kolarov, Milner, Toure, Barry, Silva, Tevez, Balotelli. Subs: Pantilimon, Nasri, Dzeko, Aguero, Rodwell, Clichy, Toure. This, therefore, promises to be quite an event as the English champions look to get their (relatively) shaky start to the season back on track. The match kicks off at 12.45pm. Still, City will be wary of taking their opponents today for granted, and not just because Sunderland took them for four points last season. Martin O'Neill's side are unbeaten, with striker Steven Fletcher scoring goals for fun. City meanwhile have only won once in their last six matches, have let in 18 goals this season, and made a nine-course tasting menu of their last home match at the City of Manchester Stadium, a deserved 3-1 win over QPR, but one which wasn't quite as easy as it should have been. But no. That didn't happen, did it. City scrambled a desperate point in that Sunderland game. The Black Cats were 3-1 up with five minutes to play, thanks to two goals from Seb Larsson and Nicklaus Bnedtner, but Mario Balotelli and Aleksandar Kolarov both scored in a 60-second blast, and the spoils were shared. At the time, it looked like the jig was nevertheless up for City - especially as Manchester United won at Blackburn Rovers a couple of days later to go five points clear, and Roberto Mancini's side were to capitulate at Arsenal the following weekend. It seemed like Sunderland - who had also picked City's pocket on New Year's Day with a late goal from Ji Dong-Won - had done as much as anyone to ensure the Premier League trophy stayed at Old Trafford. The second stanza of that theme tune - The Magic Trumpet by Herb Alpert and his Tijuana Brass, go on, give it a whirl - is peppered by a jaunty xylophone trill. It's the sort of music perfect for footage of clumsy buffoons desperately trying to stay on their feet as they perambulate down a pavement covered in marbles while carrying two buckets filled with water. Oo-er, don't spill a drop! And it could quite easily have soundtracked Manchester City's travails last March, when they lost at Swansea City, only just beat Chelsea at home, drew at Stoke, and then dropped two more points at home to Sunderland. Welcome to Granadaland for FOOTBALL. Simple, straightforward, say-what-you-see, does-what-it-says-on-the-goggle-box titling. Life would be so much simpler if television stations flagged up their fare in this no-nonsense, old-school manner. I'd watch. The practice could be rolled out to other walks of life. The supermarket, for example, where one could purchase GIN, GIN DILUTER and RAZOR. Don't worry, though, Samaritans, there'd be no danger of slipping into a blue funk, because the theme tune to FOOTBALL is by Herb Alpert.