Hull City: The FA Cup Final 5 years on

The “magic of the FA Cup” is something of a cliché these days. It’s almost as overblown as the “death of a once great competition” stuff we hear every year. It always has been a special tournament though and remains so despite the apathy of some unambitious clubs and fans. 

If you ever doubt that – get to a final. Feel your legs shake as you approach Wembley. Try to get through “Abide with me” without shedding a tear. Imagine the pride in seeing the players walk out in the sunshine (if it’s not 25 degrees in the shade it doesn’t count as a Cup Final Saturday) in your colours.

Five years on, I still can’t believe we did that. Hull City in the FA Cup Final. It’s not “Roy of the Rovers stuff” because frankly, despite the hostage crisis’, kidnappings and attempted murders, Roy of the Rovers isn’t that unrealistic. When I fell in love with the FA Cup as a kid in the 80s – Hull City being in an FA Cup Final was more unlikely than the Queen getting hammered on Champers pre-match, streaking across Wembley and nutting Vinny Jones.

We’d made the 6^th round in 1966 and lost to Chelsea and then lost to Stoke at the same stage in 1971. In 1989, we lost famously 3-2 in the 5^th Round to eventual winners Liverpool in a thriller at Boothferry Park after leading 2-1. Our record in the competition from that point was frankly embarrassing. I’m not sure it will ever get worse than the day we lost at home to Hednesford in 1998 in front of the Match of the Day cameras. Man is closer to travelling to the moon by car than we were to an FA Cup Final at that point.

The club turned around in the early 2000s under Adam Pearson’s ownership and was taken to new and unprecedented heights by Peter Taylor, Phil Brown and Steve Bruce. The story is beautifully told by fellow City fan Richard Gardham in his book The Decade which you can grab from Amazon or Waterstones in Hull. You all know the gist though, 3 promotions, Play-off final, Premier League, Relegation, another Promotion, more Premier League... Yet through all that, Cup glory remained elusive with another quarter final loss the “highlight” as we were cheated by those dirty Arsenal b******s at the Emirates on the night that little scumbag Cesc Fabregas spat at the great Brian Horton. Being there was not as much fun as it had been the previous October.

Then came 2014. The previous two seasons City had received “easy” home draws in Round 4 and contrived to lose to Crawley and Barnsley respectively. So, little was expected as Steve Bruce took a second string side to Middlesbrough (generally an unhappy hunting ground) in January. Aaron McLean and Nick Proschwitz scored and took us through to a meeting with Phil Brown’s Southend United at Roots Hall. That was a fantastic away day with two beautifully taken Matty Fryatt goals capping it off. Then came Brighton away on a Monday night on the telly. Yannick Sagbo’s late goal salvaged a replay and goals from Curtis Davies and Robert Koren saw them off, just, at home in the replay. That set up a meeting with Bruce’s former club Sunderland at the KC in front of a slightly disappointing crowd of just over 20k. City swept them aside 3-0 with a thumping Davies header, a fantastic goal by David Meyler and a third from Fryatt set-up by Mackem’s captain, leader, legend Lee Cattermole.

Making Wembley for a Cup semi-final broke new ground for City whose only other appearance at that stage had been way, way back in 1929. I watched the draw on the concourse at the stadium after the game along with plenty of others. Potential opponents where Arsenal (again), Manchester City or holders Wigan Athletic (now of the Championship) and League One side Sheffield United. When City drew the League One side people cheered, jumped and hugged. Opportunity was knocking. Going in 2-1 down at half time at Wembley in the semi, only my knees were knocking. How “Typical City” would losing to a lower division team be, and bloody Sheffield United at that, when presented with the greatest opportunity in our history?

Fortunately, Davies banged a few heads together in the dressing room, pinned a few players to the wall, threatened a few more with knee-capping or worse and City produced a masterful second half performance to win 5-3 sort of comfortably. Sagbo equalised Jose Baxter’s goal in the first half before Stefan Scougall gave them that half time lead. Fryatt poached another equaliser before Huddlestone scored a magnificent third, Stephen Quinn stuck one in against his old club and Meyler sealed it on the break in front of the City fans. Jamie Murphy’s late goal was mere consolation. Hull City were in an FA Cup Final.

I couldn’t believe it on the eve of the game and I still don’t really believe it now.

I watched the pre-match pleasantries in a daze. I’ve seen this play out on TV every year (bar the one on my wedding day) since I was 7 years old and being a part of it was surreal.

City lined up: McGregor. Chester, Bruce, Davies. Elmohamady, Livermore, Huddlestone, Meyler, Rosenior. Quinn. Fryatt.

Only Quinny’s inclusion surprised me. I’d barely digested it when City won a corner at the opposite end of Wembley. Quinn’s ball was met by Huddlestone on the edge of the box and James Chester turned it in. It was unbelievable. Just a feeling of euphoria I’ve never felt in football. As good as the Play-off final was, that win at Arsenal, winning at Spurs, beating Liverpool and Man Utd – as good as that all felt, that was next level. An out-of-body experience. Looking down on a scene of utter joy and disbelief.

Just when we thought life could never get any better than that, the post kept out Bruce’s header from Quinn’s cross and Curtis Davies tapped in the rebound. The resulting celebration left me exhausted. Genuinely struggling for breath in the Wembley heat. What on earth were we watching?

Shortly after Kieran Gibbs nodded Alex Bruce’s goal-bound header off the line. When I’ve watched the game back since, this is as far as I make it. We win 2-0 and go home with the trophy.

Sadly, you know the real story. Santi Cazorla buried a cheap free-kick in front of the City fans before half-time, Laurent Koscielny taped in from close range from a corner our players insisted never was and then in extra-time, Aaron Ramsey bagged a winner. Sone Aluko had a glorious chance to take it to penalties but found neither the empty net or a team-mate.

I went away devastated but incredibly proud. Not only had we reached a Cup Final but we gave Arsenal an almighty scare. We were exhausted in extra-time. Having to use subs early didn’t help. They brought on two pairs of fresh legs in extra-time in midfield. It was too much. I won’t say it doesn’t matter, that would be a massive, massive lie. I wanted to win more than any game I’ve been at. But losing didn’t take away from the achievement. It never will.

The club is unrecognisable five years on. The support that day was unbelievably good. Even though this played out amidst the fight to retain the club’s identity (remember the on pitch demo after the Sunderland win) the support throughout the whole run was brilliant. City has been a club of ups and downs its entire existence. The lowest point was the battle to remain in the league in 1998. The highest peak was May 17^th 2014.

The eyes of the world are on that game. Imagine tens of millions of people rubbing theirs and trying to fathom a score-line of Arsenal 0 Hull City 2.

I hate Kieran Gibbs.