IT is a crying shame that it had to end with so much rancour and recrimination.

That the fans who once sang "Cheer Up Peter Reid" and worshipped their saviour should turn against the man.

That after seven-and-a-half years that saw Sunderland become an established Premiership club, Reid's reputation should be so tarnished by a protracted parting.

For as the Reid reign is dissected today, it will not be forgotten that he was a driving force behind the Wearsiders' remarkable revival after decades of near-ceaseless under-achievement.

Given seven games to steer Sunderland away from the Second Division in 1995, Reid not only saved his new club from relegation - he led them into the Premiership just 12 months later.

While it was chairman Bob Murray and his fellow directors who were responsible for the stunning Stadium of Light, ultimately Reid was the man who brought the huge crowds to the new ground.

He built a team with verve and elan but hewn from the same granite that spawned Reid the player: hard-working with an indefatigable spirit.

Yet in the end, it was Reid's inability to move with the footballing times that triggered his and Sunderland's decline.

Hubris, the Greeks called it; bloody-mindedness is a term that is more universally recognised.

But whatever word one uses, what is indisputable is that Reid's unforgiving nature and at times baffling faith in his methods played a huge role in his spectacular downfall.

Nicky Summerbee, Allan Johnston, Chris Makin, Stefan Schwarz, Thomas Helmer - all have discovered that Reid is not a man to cross.

Summerbee and Johnston, the wingers whose regular supply of crosses fed the goal glut that inspired Sunderland to promotion in 1999, soon departed after falling out with Reid.

Helmer, who won 68 caps for Germany in an illustrious career, made just two blink-and-you-missed-them appearances for the Wearsiders.

Schwarz, another widely-respected player with a glittering CV, was involved in a massive bust-up with Reid last season; he has not played for the club since then.

But this is not a time to dwell on the low points in Reid's tumultuous time in the North-East.

Instead, one should remember that Reid brought back something that had been missing from Sunderland's fans for many years: a sense of pride.

At a time when Newcastle United were riding the Kevin Keegan rollercoaster, Sunderland were heading for virtual oblivion.

Within a year, Reid gave his club's fans something to smile about - even though his rather dour public persona did not hint at the transformation he was performing.

He masterminded Sunderland back-to-back wins at St James' Park - both 2-1 victories after falling behind to Newcastle - and even led them to the nosebleed-inducing heights of second in the Premiership at the start of last year.

But it had long been apparent that Reid's influence was beginning to wane.

The decline hit its nadir at the same St James' Park just over a fortnight ago, when Sunderland might as well have walked on to the pitch waving a white flag for all the opposition they provided Newcastle.

That, in the eyes of fans who were becoming increasingly alarmed at their club's plight, was one game too many; one cringing embarrassment too far.

When the axe fell on Reid last night, it was with Sunderland facing another relegation battle.

This time, though, they are haunted by the drop from the Premiership that the Black Cats have graced with some distinction for more than three years.

The club that Reid has left behind is in much better shape than the one he inherited.

And for that - through all the rancour and recrimination - Sunderland fans must be grateful.