I have long been able to at first confuse, and then annoy, people in Oxford by referring to myself simply as a ‘City’ fan. When I ask for the City result, I am hit with any number of random scorelines from across the country. This is partly because I am simply not used to the need to clarify – back home ‘City’ is enough – and partly out of my own stubborn adherence to the habits of a lifetime. Down here, the assumption is usually that I have been tempted by the Sheikh’s billions into donning the sky blue of the ‘Etihad’. If not then perhaps Norwich, Birmingham, or, in the case of my misguided neighbour from the South West, that I had decided to join the Cider Army and follow Bristol City as they bump along the bottom of the Championship. Even Swansea has come up. It never occurs that it might be Bradford City I’m talking about. At least, it never used to.
Now I think the days of having my claret and amber scarf get me mistaken for a Harry Potter enthusiast are behind me. We have been on the world stage this week – even if our time there was spent getting absolutely hammered (I mean this in reference to the score on Sunday, but it’s probably a pretty accurate description of the state in which most city fans spent the weekend). When I got back to Oxford I half expected one of the hordes of tourists I was fighting through to recognise my shirt. Maybe they would want to ask me how James Hanson generates so much movement in the box when the rest of the time he’s about as agile as the Rad Cam. Or why our Chairman Mark Lawn looks so much like a marshmallow.
That, along with countless Bradfordian daydreams of an improbable Europa League run, proved to be a fantasy. Nonetheless, in the days following our high-profile obliteration I have tried to take the pragmatic, philosophical view. So were outclassed in every conceivable way by a team operating on a plane that Gary Jones can barely even dream of. So our first and last shot on target was a tame effort in the 88th minute. So it was a record margin of victory in a League Cup Final (I’m going to end this list before I get upset again). So what? I have seen my beloved local side play at Wembley in a major cup final. I have seen them beat three premier League sides. I have seen our ground full for the first time in a decade.
And yet. As I sat on Sunday night in a strangely quiet London boozer, surrounded by fellow City fans ruefully nursing their pints, it was difficult not to look back with regret on what might have been. We were so close. Probably closer than we’ll ever be again in my lifetime. You can’t walk away from Wembley having seen your team get pumped without experiencing a sense of acute devastation, no matter the achievements that have gone before. In spite of the obvious gulf in class, we had beaten Wigan, Arsenal and Villa – I couldn’t help wondering at the start of the weekend if we couldn’t go all the way.
I got a train down on the Saturday morning so my first task was to cut through an all-consuming post Wahoo fug in order to get to the station in time. The week had been spent absorbing every piece of build-up and media analysis it is possible for a human being to read or watch. Biographies of Edward Gibbon didn’t get a look in unfortunately – Oxford life was postponed for the purposes of the biggest football match of my life. Walking through the tunnel and out onto the stand at Wembley really is an unforgettable experience, especially when you’re greeted by 30,000 Bantams. It’s worth remembering that our highest attendance in modern times was the 24,000 we had at Valley Parade against Arsenal, making Sunday one of the biggest ever gatherings of Bradford City fans. The giant banner remembering the 56 who died in the 1985 fire was a poignant reminder of how far we’d come. The last half hour became an opportunity to show our gratitude and pride in a team that had come so far, when the game was gone and all that was left to do was to ‘sing yer heart out for the lads’.
But now that’s done, and the media will go back to covering Torres’ new hairstyle. Meanwhile there’s a job to do. We’ve got Dagenham and Redbridge on Wednesday, and we could really do with the three points.
