Observations:

• A glorious, sunny 25-degree day set us off right as we got on a coach at Sheffield Arena to head
  to Wembley. I was also crushingly hungover and running on very little sleep. Good.
• It was my first trip to Wembley, old or new. Very impressive.  The electricity of 30 thousand Blades
  on “Olympic Way” only added to my excitement, nerves, and overall feeling of needing to vomit.
• After soaking up the Wembley atmosphere, my Dad and I hit the tube to meet up with other
  “exiled Blades” from around the world to soak up some pints.  4 pints later, the nerves were settling.
  Amazingly I was somehow “enjoying myself”.  It wouldn’t last.
• The walk back up to Wembley was quite simply a spectacle. Blades fans in full voice (and full of booze)
  drenched in the London sun.  Goosebumps.
• Perched high up in Wembley, my Pops and I had a birds-eye view of what was an open 1st half, but
  one with few chances of note. 0-0 at half. I could handle that.
• The match burst in to life in the 2nd half, with Huddy smacking the woodwork on 47 minutes.
  They would continue to have the better chances, with the Blades clearing the ball off the line
  twice, and ‘keeper Steve Simonsen making 2 great saves.  Off to extra-time, somewhat luckily for us.
  Maybe luck was on OUR side this time? Feeling confident now.
• Both teams went for it enough in extra-time. Hearts were in mouths for all of it. But alas, it was going
  to come down to penalties. Of course it was.
• The whole journey hinged on this shootout. Worth it or not? Elated or devastated coming home?
• Huddersfield won the coin toss and decided to shoot in front of their fans, opposite us.
• Although it’s all a bit of an emotional blur, I know for certain I was physically shaking from the time
  Huddersfield’s Tommy Miller stepped up for the first penalty. He missed.
• So did the Blades Lee Williamson. Then they missed again. We scored. 1-0 after 2 pens each.
• We were in control. Then, they missed again. It was Brazil in Copa ’11. Here was our reaction,
  thinking it was in the bag:

• Well to bring us down from that high, Matt Lowton missed the penalty that would have put us up 2-0.
• Huddersfield then finally scored, 1-1. But we were still in the driver’s seat if we scored out 4th.
  We didn’t. Andy Taylor, brought on in the 120th minute, solely to take a penalty,  hit the post.
  All up in the air once again.
• They scored their 5th. In what seemed like seconds we’d gone from feeling like we’d done it to being
  a miss away from losing.  Unbearable. *holds back vomit*
• We scored! 2-2 after 5 penalties, sudden-death time. When it gets to this point, it really is an advantage
  to go first. A tiny bit less pressure… if that’s possible.
• They score, 3-2. That’s it, we’re going to miss. We score 3-3. Breathe. For 3 seconds.
• They score, 4-3. We score, 4-4. They score, 5-4. We score, 5-5. They score, 6-5. We score, 6-6.
• JESUS
• At some point in all of this I looked around at the Blades fans surrounding me. All as nervous and
  utterly gripped as I was. Something special to share that, like a family in many ways.
• Not to get too over-dramatic, but  a kid about 10 years old looked at me with this wry smile
  and all I could do was smile back. We’re in it together either way kiddo. But please, get out NOW!
• They score. 7-6. Our last outfield player,  Defender Matt Hill… scores! 7-7. What now?! Everyone’s gone.
• Oh right, time for the ‘keepers to shoot. Of course.
• I CAN’T TAKE THIS.
• Their keeper Alex Smithies steps up… Simonsen gets a piece. YAA… And then you hear it. The wave of
  sound from the other end of the ground. It takes half a second to travel across Wembley. But it’s
  unmistakeable. And painful. It slips in the side of the net. Stunned silence from 30,000 Blades.
• Simonsen, the hero in the 120 minutes and the beginning of the shootout now has to score his penalty
  or we’re done.
• He steps up… and then it comes again. that wall of sound crackling across the Wembley pitch,
  up the stands and in to my heart like a stake. Simmo skied it. Dropped to the floor in agony along with
  the other Blades players.
• I could only turn away and slump down, holding my face in my hands. Other than one guy bashing away
  at his seat in anger, you could pretty much hear a pin drop. And, of course, ecstatic Huddy fans
  across the stadium. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. I think I did a combination of both. I couldn’t
  even bare to look at my Dad, who has endured this for 23 years longer than I have. Poor bastard.
• Thoughts of next season filled my head. Lowton and Maguire will be gone. Quinny too.  That will
  be the last of Simonsen with us… what a way to end it. What a waste of a trip. All this for heartbreak.
• But then, something pretty special. the Blades players dragged themselves off the pitch, made a beeline
  for our end and clapped the travelling support still basking in the sun, but feeling ice cold from head
  to toe. Little anger, tons of disappointment … and in unison, applauding their heroes who had just let
  them down. Again. The hair on the back of my neck stood up. I’d read in an article on the plane over,
  “we are a sum of our experiences”… and that came back to me in that moment, because THAT had been
  an experience. I’d never been more proud to be a Blade.
• See you in League One again next season *shudder*

1) My Heart- for being able to handle that emotional rollercoaster

2) My Dad- for sharing the experience with me and being able to deal with this for all these years.

3) Sport- for providing the emotions and experiences we all need. It’d be nice if they went our way
once in a while though, wouldn’t it?

Up The Blades