Slipperduke
The Camden Cad
After a wait of 69 years, Portsmouth finally lifted the FA Cup again after a tight, but composed performance against a spirited Cardiff City side. In the year of great FA Cup shocks, there was nothing left for the Final which went very much according to the form-book. Portsmouth, like a prize fighter against a young rookie, simply out-boxed their opponents with a determined, but careful performance. They were worthy winners.
Without a single member of the 'big four' in attendance, there had been fears in some quarters that this would be an underwhelming final but, though the second half was a little subdued, Wembley was still packed to the rafters with 90,000 fans determined to make the most of what could very well be a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Their passion and noise was a marked contrast to last year's clash when Chelsea and Manchester United half-heartedly wrestled in front of glory-saturated fans who saw the old cup as a mere trinket in comparison to their greater ambitions. This was an old school FA Cup Final from the days when it meant as much to the victors as a league title.
Cardiff City lined up with their third loanee goalkeeper of the season, Peter Enckelman, who was hoping to win himself a permanent deal, but on the basis of this flappy, nervous performance, I would suggest that David Jones looks elsewhere. The big Finnish stopper played as if he'd been dared to go through the entire final without actually catching the ball. Every cross, every free-kick, every corner went the same way, punched into the middle distance. It created a series of opportunities for Portsmouth, who eventually broke the deadlock when Enckelman found John Utaka's 37th minute cross too hot to handle and Kanu mopped up the mess.
Cardiff actually started the game much more impressively than their top flight opponents. They moved the ball around well, finding Paul Parry with a series of early, direct balls that had the Welshman repeatedly bursting through on goal with poor Sol Campbell trailing in his wake. Unfortunately for Parry, David James was in defiant mood and kept him at bay with some smart clearances. Peter Whittingham caused Portsmouth problems with his set-pieces and Joe Ledley was in inspired form, drawing a number of fouls from his harassed opposite number, Glen Johnson. Make no mistake, Cardiff did themselves proud.
Without the cup-tied Jermaine Defoe, Portsmouth approached the game with caution. N****wo Kanu was left on his own up front allowing Harry Redknapp an extra man in the middle to stifle Cardiff. For a time, his team found it difficult to give the vintage striker any support at all. Niko Krancjaer and John Utaka started deep, but when they pushed up, supported by the full-backs, Pompey always looked superior. Lassana Diarra showed Arsene Wenger what he'd missed out on with an excellent display, linking up with Niko Kranjkaer for one move that was so breath-taking it deserved a goal for aesthetic value alone. Redknapp had never reached an FA Cup Final either as a player or as a manager and he clearly had no intention of letting the opportunity slip away. Portsmouth were organised, efficient and occasionally capable of some lovely football.
The roar on the full-time whistle was a rasping, primal scream of delight from supporters more used to relegation battles and mid-table mediocrity than glorious victory. It showed the world something that has perhaps been forgotten in recent years. It showed that football is not just about money and it's not just about superstars. It's about supporting your own club through thin and thinner, it's about never losing the faith, never allowing yourself to sink into depression. It's about always believing that one day, somehow, your moment will arrive. For Portsmouth, that moment is now.
Without a single member of the 'big four' in attendance, there had been fears in some quarters that this would be an underwhelming final but, though the second half was a little subdued, Wembley was still packed to the rafters with 90,000 fans determined to make the most of what could very well be a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Their passion and noise was a marked contrast to last year's clash when Chelsea and Manchester United half-heartedly wrestled in front of glory-saturated fans who saw the old cup as a mere trinket in comparison to their greater ambitions. This was an old school FA Cup Final from the days when it meant as much to the victors as a league title.
Cardiff City lined up with their third loanee goalkeeper of the season, Peter Enckelman, who was hoping to win himself a permanent deal, but on the basis of this flappy, nervous performance, I would suggest that David Jones looks elsewhere. The big Finnish stopper played as if he'd been dared to go through the entire final without actually catching the ball. Every cross, every free-kick, every corner went the same way, punched into the middle distance. It created a series of opportunities for Portsmouth, who eventually broke the deadlock when Enckelman found John Utaka's 37th minute cross too hot to handle and Kanu mopped up the mess.
Cardiff actually started the game much more impressively than their top flight opponents. They moved the ball around well, finding Paul Parry with a series of early, direct balls that had the Welshman repeatedly bursting through on goal with poor Sol Campbell trailing in his wake. Unfortunately for Parry, David James was in defiant mood and kept him at bay with some smart clearances. Peter Whittingham caused Portsmouth problems with his set-pieces and Joe Ledley was in inspired form, drawing a number of fouls from his harassed opposite number, Glen Johnson. Make no mistake, Cardiff did themselves proud.
Without the cup-tied Jermaine Defoe, Portsmouth approached the game with caution. N****wo Kanu was left on his own up front allowing Harry Redknapp an extra man in the middle to stifle Cardiff. For a time, his team found it difficult to give the vintage striker any support at all. Niko Krancjaer and John Utaka started deep, but when they pushed up, supported by the full-backs, Pompey always looked superior. Lassana Diarra showed Arsene Wenger what he'd missed out on with an excellent display, linking up with Niko Kranjkaer for one move that was so breath-taking it deserved a goal for aesthetic value alone. Redknapp had never reached an FA Cup Final either as a player or as a manager and he clearly had no intention of letting the opportunity slip away. Portsmouth were organised, efficient and occasionally capable of some lovely football.
The roar on the full-time whistle was a rasping, primal scream of delight from supporters more used to relegation battles and mid-table mediocrity than glorious victory. It showed the world something that has perhaps been forgotten in recent years. It showed that football is not just about money and it's not just about superstars. It's about supporting your own club through thin and thinner, it's about never losing the faith, never allowing yourself to sink into depression. It's about always believing that one day, somehow, your moment will arrive. For Portsmouth, that moment is now.
