When the semis were completed, I thought the prospect of a United-Chelsea final was about the most horrible thing I could imagine, and no possible outcome was really that satisfying.
I was wrong.
I wanted United to win, mainly because although not my favourite club by a country mile, they have at least earned their position at the top table of the game, unlike their opponents. Plus they don’t have quite as many odious characters at Chelsea, who field at least nine per game.
And win they did, so no London club has yet lifted the trophy, giving us the chance to be the first. To add icing to that cake, Drogba was sent off for a petulant slap, Ronaldo missed a penalty, Terry missed a penalty which would’ve won it, and Anelka missed the decider.
If Ashley Cole had missed a crucial one too, then the night would’ve been perfect, all things considered. But the man who betrayed a club to seek money and trophies goes home empty handed from this season, in the knowledge that his replacement at Arsenal is proving to be more capable and a damn sight more popular.
We don’t miss you, Ash, not one iota.