I'm a football romantic and after Wolves' 5-0 demolition of plucky Doncaster I'd like to believe that despite the cup's supposed decline, the famous silver guerdon still has a little sprinkle of enchantment left in it...
I love the Cup, always have done. The passion, the giant-killings, the butterflies during the draw and the (ever-so-slight) possibility of getting to Wem-ber-leeey. People still talk of the famous Hereford/Newcastle upset before my time in '72, but even in my thirty years there have been some stunning clashes for the fellow romanticizers to behold. One of the first football matches I can recall in detail is the Crystal Palace 4-3 win over Liverpool in 1990, then there was the Wrexham 2-1 victory over Arsenal a couple of years later. My personal favourite has to be the amazing penalty shoot out in 1995 between the then-top flight Sheffield Wednesday and my beloved Wolves. Somehow we won 4-3 despite being 3 down - Wednesday’s keeper Kevin Pressman memorably getting his weight behind the ball to score the best penalty ever! And after the last round, Notts County, Burton, Crawley and Stevenage are waving their giant-killer flags high and proud. Add the Liverpool versus Howard Webb, sorry I mean Man Utd (+ Howard Webb) game to that list of cup classics and there's still life in the old silverware yet.
With its magic still sparkling, who's to say Mick's men can't grace the hallowed (and churned up) turf of North London come May? Ok, it’s a long shot and perhaps our efforts should be focused on our fight for survival , but if we can get past Stoke which is certainly winnable, well, then what? Who knows, but we’d only be a few games from the final and we've already shown we can mix it with the big boys this season should we draw any of them from the hat (which for the record is actually a moth-damaged velvet bag).
So dare we dream? Yes. Can we win it? Yes. Am I slightly mad? Maybe. But what would be the point in going into such a longstanding competition that has fed us countless David vs. Goliath outcomes over its magical history, if we didn’t think we stood a chance? The magic of the cup lives on, well with me anyway – here’s hoping it can live on with the men from Molineux too.