People have said the future is orange. WHU proved this to be incorrect yesterday.
I have to say that i dont really remember much of the game as it seemed to fly by and i was physically and mentally knackered by the end. What i do know is Blackpool outplayed us, and but for some snatched finishing in the first half, could of gone in two one up. If Kevin Phillips rather than Ince’s boy had those chances he would of put at least one away.
So instead, i’ll concentrate on the day. We met at Liverpool Street, at around 10:30 in the morning. With about 10,000 other Hammers. We managed to get a pub, that didn’t have thousands in, for a spot of breakfast and some morning refreshment. After a tube ride in which i saw about 30 Blackpool fans, we arrived at Wembley, where as usual everything becomes a Q. So we queued to get in , and queued and then walked on the broken escalator, and then queued for a beer (4.70 ? Really ?), and then we geared up for the main event. Sam had picked what he considers to be his best team, so it was up to us to keep our part of the bargain.
Our support, as usual, was top draw, BUT, the guy behind me was an arse, and just kept slagging of all of our players, constantly. This resulted in me having a word, which led to his brother literally trying to kick my head off. So, after this got sorted, we scored, and life was good, especially for me as plank boy behind had focused on CC for most of his ire. At half time, the brother wants to buy me drink. Mad times indeed !
One of our group had tickets in the Blackpool end , and had to retire to the pub at half time, as the Blackpool fans dont play well with others it would appear.
The second half we did play a little better, but i really thought we were going for extra time after the young boy Ince equalised. Then as the game was almost settled into a draw, up pops Ricardo Vaz Te to “score when he wants” to net the winner. The 4 mins of extra time was too long for me, and i had to sit down, exhausted.
Post the celebration was got back to Liverpool street, to a have some more refreshments, and watch the Chelski game. As you can imagine, seeing Mr Lampard lift the trophy, brought a tear to the eye of everyone in the pub.
Then off home, for a well deserved rest. MOTM: My liver
Some photos of the day.