Jack and Loz at Wembley - Blog 82

Date: 26th May 2018

Opposition: Aston Villa

Score: 1-0 (or 0-1 as Villa were, inexplicably, the "home" team)

Weather: sweltering. This was Fulham's day in the sun in more ways than one

Atmosphere: a White Wall 38,000 strong became a White Army fighting as one with our team. We had their back in the first half, we roared them on to victory in the second and we struggled, as they did, to keep our emotions in check after the final whistle. No matter what lies ahead, being part of the Fulham Family on the day we went to Wembley will rank as one of the best days of all of our lives

MOTM (football): there was only one Captain, Leader and Legend on the Wembley pitch on Saturday. Tom Cairney led from the front, scored the goal and rallied his troops when they needed it. As he lifted the cup he looked, as we all did, jubilant, radiant, slightly exhausted and a little bit shell-shocked. We take back every criticism from earlier in the season, every aspersion cast. Tom might not be a Fulham captain in the manner of Danny Murphy or Luis Boa Morte, he might not be Fulham from boyhood like Marcus or Sess, he might have to rely sometimes on his faithful Lieutenant Kevin McDonald but he is a true Fulham captain, a Premier League captain and a fantastic footballer. And in terms of footballing skill on Saturday there Ain't Nobody who came close.

MOTM (non-football): Saturday's victory, and indeed promotion to the Premier League, was a team effort in every way. We don't hear much from the people behind the scenes at Motspur Park but we know the men who let their feet do the talking would be silent without them. This is an accolade for players, staff, fans and families alike. We did this together

Pub: we drank Prosecco out of the bottle sitting on a bollard on Wembley Way and bubbles have never tasted so good. Later we went to Alice's House in West Hampstead and made some new Fulham friends.

12 days is long time. It's not as long as 43 years but it's a long time to exist in a keyed up, nervous, excited state. After the victory over Derby, Fulham fans' productivity dipped, sleep became scarce. Waiting to buy Wembley tickets was stressful, buying them was very stressful! Waiting for them to arrive in the post was, for some, even worse! But Wembley Eve finally came around and it really was the start of the most wonderful time of the year. Fulham family members were flying in from all over the world, others were trying decide which white shirt out of a collection of dozens to wear, nails were painted black and white, souvenirs from the 1975 Cup Final were found and dusted off.

If Friday night was exciting, Saturday morning was even better in a slightly nauseous kind of way. We have all watched matches at Wembley on TV and some of us have been there supporting England or watching another club. But nothing prepares you for going there as a Fulham fan supporting our beloved team: getting off the tube and seeing the Wembley arch loom large above us, walking down Wembley Way as part of a torrent of white. And nothing in the world could prepare us for walking out through the concourse to our seats and taking our places as two small bricks in the enormous White Wall. The noise, the sun, the feeling.

Tom led the team out with his usual jaunty gait. They looked calm and confident. After the National Anthem (was anyone else so nervous they got the words mixed up?!) came the huddle. The only huddle as Villa's captain is apparently too arrogant to realise the importance of team spirit. After the huddle came kick off and after kick off came a consummate half of football from Fulham. This wasn't the best we've seen them play recently but they played the right way to be the better team - they took advantage of the short, wet grass and the acres wide pitch. They played out from the back, they kept possession, they probed forwards while keeping a tight defensive line.

The one thing Villa did well all game was defend and so it was a case of unpicking the defence rather than carving it open. Mitro's force, AK's speed, Fredericks’ skill all combined to snip away at the defensive stitches, to pull apart the old, worn threads holding Villa together. When the goal came it was a special one: the blast forward from Stefjo which in another team might have been speculative, the control and vision from Sess and the perfect finish from Tom.

The noise from the White Wall when the ball hit the back of the net was like something for which you normally need ear protectors. And the emotion was like something you feel on the day you get married or when your child is born.

It would have been good to have been 2-0 up at half time but even though we didn't manage that we felt secure in the knowledge we were the better team, aided and abetted by Villa adopting the unusual tactic of time wasting while losing. Much was written and said before the match about Villa’s experience of big games in general and playing at Wembley in particular. No one likes Jn Ty except for his light fingered family and several WAGs who should know better but it is impossible to argue with his reputation as a defender of the highest quality. However, as we noted after Villa came to (and lost at) the Cottage in February, T**y is well past his prime. He can still read the game like an expert but he can’t play it like one. A past master against Fulham’s pass masters stood no chance.

Villa’s other supposedly good player is Jack Grealish but as he divided his game time between rolling around on the floor (a position in which it’s hard to play football) and attempting GBH on TC we weren’t impressed.

The second half was a prelude to meteorological events in London later that evening: there was a storm to weather. But we were 45 minutes from the Premier League and Tim Ream and Marcus Bettinelli made it abundantly clear to Villa that Thou Shalt Not Pass. Villa won some free kicks in dangerous positions but did nothing with them. Sess remembered his left back roots and was helping out in defence and KMac was, as so often, in the right place to deflect Villa's best chance into Marcus's arms.

Even after Denis's red card the panic which we saw towards the end of closely fought games earlier in the season was absent and if anything it was Villa who were overplaying and losing control. Our hoofing tactics as the clock ran down were a little undignified for the Premier League team which we were by then but combined with Mitro and Sess's keeping the ball in the corner routine they were highly effective.

Whilst there was calm from the men in white on the pitch, things weren't quite the same in the Wall. Despite what we were seeing, holding on for 25 minutes with 10 men protecting a 1 goal lead seemed an unlikely proposition. But this was not the naive team of early in the season, or the team who conceded Brentford's 94th minute equaliser only a couple of months ago. This team has been honed and seasoned to win. Slav's game management, Tom's leadership and every players' execution was perfect. The subs played their part with Kalas shoring up the defence and Norwood adding some control and Christie some pace just when they were needed.

When the final whistle finally went we felt relief as well as ecstasy: for the best team in the Championship to have failed, to have fallen at the final hurdle would have been heartbreaking and the consequences don't bear thinking about. The celebrations which began immediately and went on long into the night were all the sweeter because they had been so hard earned and were so well deserved. In some ways, because we had concentrated so much on the special nature of the occasion we were unprepared for the monumental result and it's going to take a while for it to fully sink in. But that was some match, some goal and some result. We did it the hard way but we did it with style.

Wembley Musings:-

- not only did the clappers contribute to the atmosphere and wind up the opposition but they also made excellent fans for fans on a boiling hot day

- the stage thing took ages to put up!

- also, how far did the team have to go to collect the cup? Imagine climbing all the way up there after you’d played 97 minutes of football in 25 degrees!

- the karaoke at the end was terrific but Mitro managed to be late for his own song!

- as amazing as it was to watch Fulham at Wembley we couldn’t be doing with these big stadiums all the time. Even on level 2 we were miles from the pitch. Can’t wait to get home to the Cottage!

- how fantastic must that day have been for those fans who were at Wembley in 1975. We have no doubt Saturday was worth the wait!

In surely any sport other than football it’s always best to finish first and win the gold. But because of the way the Championship works it turns out it’s actually best to finish third. Thanks to QPR, Brentford and Birmingham we had a day out at Wembley that we will never forget. The Championship is a fantastic league and we have really enjoyed visiting new grounds and meeting real fans of other clubs. But 4 years is enough. We are going back to where we belong.

It had been brilliant to be part of Fulham Football Club this year. The togetherness of coaches, players, owners and fans as we have single mindedly pursued a single goal has been a joy. Now a new adventure awaits and it will be a spellbinding one. What can the serblime Slavisa Jokanovic achieve in the Premier League with his free-flowing, frenetic, fantastic football? With Tom Cairney to lead us and Ryan Sessegnon ready to step into the spotlight at his side, with Tim Ream, Kevin McDonald and Marcus Bettinelli willing to do their hard, unglamorous but essential jobs in a harder league and maybe a bit of Mitro magic to add to the mix the answer is a lot. After all, Slav is the man who has changed the definition of Fulhamish. Yes, it still means expect the unexpected and if anything can go wrong it probably will. But now it also means the ability to play football with both style and grit, with both flair and fight, with both courage and class.

We can’t wait for August. We are Fulham. We are Premier League.