Monday 15 April 2013

The Day We Painted Wembley Blue

A crowd of 43,842 in a stadium with a capacity of 90,000 would at first glance appear to make for quite a subdued atmosphere, but there is an air of excitement in Wembley. The Football League Trophy is a competition frequently denigrated by the football fraternity, a Mickey Mouse cup, or in it’s current guise, the Paint Pot cup. But it’s not everyday as a lower league supporter that you get to follow your team to Wembley.

And so it was that Southend United, the team I have supported since I was 12, found themselves in the Johnstone’s Paint Trophy Final at Wembley. From an average home attendance of 5,036 Southend would be supported by some 31,000 people in their first ever Wembley final appearance, and in the weeks leading up to the big day it certainly felt like the whole town was going to be there.


After a fun packed, or should I just say packed, train ride up from Rayleigh (thanks Greater Anglia!), we arrived at Wembley Park station, and even from the steps at above Wembley Way the national stadium loomed large ahead of us. After meeting our friend up from Exeter, we joined the river of blue clad Shrimpers making their way up Wembley Way (I refuse to call it 'Olympic Way') with the Stadium growing ever larger in front of us. Once inside, the concourses are easy to navigate and wide so even with thousands of fans it's not too tricky, and after a swift pint and some grub we made our way up the steps into the arena itself. Emerging from the enclosed interior blinking into the daylight, the vastness of the stadium really hits home, especially from the third tier.


From our lofty position we can see a sea of Southend United supporters filling the stands below us and stretching out around the curve of the stadium, this is one of those times that gives you goose bumps. It takes the half hour or so until the teams emerge to really take it all in, and then the teams do run out, to a roar of noise and then line up for the national anthem, something you've seen countless times watching the FA Cup final on TV but it's a truly spine-tingling moment when it's your club, your players, your fans singing it.


The build up to the final had been far from ideal for Southend, with Paul Sturrock the man who had got Southend to their first Wembley final, unceremoniously sacked less than two weeks before the final with former Hull boss Phil Brown installed as his replacement. He doesn't exactly endear himself to the Southend fans with his Wembley team selection, picking left-back Anthony Straker on left wing, and Bilel Mohsni (centreback/striker/winger) in centre midfield. It sets a tone of frustration that will last the rest of the afternoon, and for me much of the coming few days.

Southend start off sleepily and Crewe, Southend vanquishers in last season's play-offs, take a spectacular lead from a well worked corner in just the 5th minute. Then in the sixth minute the much smaller Crewe support break out into applause for their absent no6, Adam Dugdale, whose 10 day old son had died just days before - an applause joined by the vast majority of the Southend support. While Southend have their moments, an ironclad penalty not given in the first half, a goal ruled out for offside & a goal-line clearance in the second half, there is only ever one team likely to win, and Crewe ease to a well deserved 2-0 victory.

And as the Blues dejected players trudge up the Wembley steps to collect their runner's up medals, the stands quickly empty, while we make a point of staying long enough to applaud the players efforts, we leave before we have to see Crewe's on-pitch celebrations. A journey home that is even more stressful than the one coming to the Stadium adds to my sense of frustration, so that by the time we arrive home, irritated and tired, my overwhelming feelings are negative.

It's taken a few days for those feelings to subside before I can look back with wonder at an amazing day in Southend United's history, to fully appreciate the feelings of walking up Wembley Way, walking into the stadium for the first time, singing the national anthem and seeing my team play on the hallowed turf along with an incredible 31,000 others. Those things I will never forget.

 

Wembley, we'll see you in another 106 years - and we'll take the coach.