From ecstasy to agony on a day Coventry turn Wembley Sky Blue

From ecstasy to agony on a day Coventry turn Wembley Sky Blue

For 30 beautiful seconds, everything went flying in the Coventry end, as Victor Torp looked to have sent the Sky Blues into a second FA Cup Final.

Tony, from Spon End, surfed down two full rows, sending this long-suffering Cov fan’s glasses shooting into the gangway. They call it ‘limbs’ these days, those explosive moments where supporters just lose it in celebration.

That term was light years away the last time City were at Wembley for the FA Cup, when Keith Houchen’s diving header stunned Tottenham 3-2 in the 1987 final.

As Tony dusted himself down, retrieving the somehow intact specs, technology intervened: this was one comeback too VAR. Haji Wright was offside by a whisker, so Torp’s strike did not sink Manchester United 4-3 after all.

Callum O’Hare had pumped Torp’s chest in a resuscitation-style celebration but, for the City faithful, everything switched from heart-stop to heartbreak.

United were just as insipid in the stands as on the pitch, the Old Trafford club comfortably outclassed when it came to support.

City’s full 36,000 allocation saw the Sky Blue Army firmly on the north London march.

Coventry band The Enemy’s We’ll Live And Die In These Towns was belted out pre-match, while all United could offer was John Denver’s Country Roads. The late hitmaker was an ‘Old Trafford regular in his songwriting heyday’, quipped one unimpressed wit.

 (Bradley Collyer/PA Wire)
(Bradley Collyer/PA Wire)

At 3-0 down, the whites of every City fan’s eyes spoke volumes: what if they don’t even land a punch? At 3-3, Wright sent the game into extra-time, and we Cov kids into a mix of delirium and disbelief.

Andre Onana drew City ire for the worst kind of penalties antics, before Antony goaded the Sky Blues fans rather than celebrate victory. City fans were stunned that global superstars would choose taunting over introspection.

Just 10 years ago, City were homeless and on the brink; just seven years ago in League Two; now, under Mark Robins (left), back punching their weight. The Wembley Way walk after penalty heartache turned into a stroll down memory lane. This beguiling club is not just about wins and losses, more best mates and loved ones, some with us, many sorely missed. Our City, our Ghost Town, with two cathedrals and one Jaguar factory — you’re damned right it’s where we’ll live and die.