Bantams’ faith is repaid as Hanson heads City towards Wembley final

Perhaps Bradford City’s club chaplain, the Rev Paul Deo knew what he was saying after all in urging supporters to do a bit of forward planning to beat the rush following the events of January 8 in the first leg. He is obviously a very wise man.

It pays to listen to the clergy and while the bells are most definitely not ringing for the claret and blue, they most certainly are for the claret and amber. Expect them to be chiming for several weeks yet in the diocese of Bradford.

For Bradford City are at Wembley. It’s official, confirmed. Brilliant, glorious reality on a winter wonderland of a Midlands night.

Marvellous, stunning, storybook ...... Insert your appropriate phrase of choice here. It probably still will not do one of the most staggering cup runs in English football history justice, or come close for that matter.

Perhaps the succinct sentence on the night belonged to the most erudite of commentators in Martin Tyler, who spoke about the achievement at the final whistle: ‘Flying in the face of footballing logic.’ That will do nicely.

We all thought surely City could not do it again, could they? But they did and how.

A fanzine called entitled Heroes and Villains was doing the rounds outside Villa Park ahead of the game and to a man, City’s cup heroes of 2012-13 were befitting of the former term. Regardless of what went on during the second leg.

But they proceeded to build on their reputations even more. We should not have been surprised.

It doesn’t happen very often that David slays a Premiership Goliath once, yet alone twice in Arsenal and now Villa. Throw in a third top-flight side in Wigan for good measure as well.

This night in Birmingham tops the lot, mind. Birmingham may be famous for its Bournville chocolate, but it wasn’t guilty pleasures, more guilty defending that was the only thing that will have been worrying Villa boss Paul Lambert ahead of the game.

More especially the soft centre stuff from the back four shown in a first leg, which will have ranked among his lowest points in football. And it proved his side’s undoing once again.

The City faithful sung about the best trip they had ever been on in the build-up to kick-off as they eyed a magnificent seventh installment of a remarkable cup adventure. Maybe more in hope than in expectation, with the first half suggesting the joyride may end.

After plenty of home pressure by a flag-waving, pumped-up crowd, Christian Benteke, he of the litany of missed chances in the first leg, had his redemptive moment, proof that good things come to those who waits.

A quality cross from Joe Bennett – he of the defensive disappearing act at Valley Parade – dissected the they-shall-not pass wall of claret and amber, personified by messrs McArdle and McHugh which proved so unbreachable against Wigan, Arsenal and Villa – with home supporters puffing out their cheeks in relief amid the intense cold.

City’s attacking moments were fleeting, but a collective intake of breath arrived moments before the interval with Nakhi Wells, who has conjured up a fair few moments of magic on his own thrilling odyssey, curling an effort inches wide in front of the Holte End. So close.

But come the second half and normal service was resumed as City’s players upped the ante again.

Patched-up James Hanson, barely able to kick a ball due to a toe injury in the past fortnight, summed up City’s gutsy, character-laden with a strike that will be savoured for years on 55 minutes.

A set-piece from Gary Jones, yet again, was met with the meatiest of headers from a lad who was ploughing his footballing furrow at Guiseley not so long back – with the lanky forward making a mug out of a regular Dutch international in Ron Vlaar after rising above Villa’s club captain.

A stunned second city audience were still coming to terms with the hammer blow when Hanson missed the most golden of chances when he give Ciaran Clark the slip before heading off target. His rueful expression said it all afterwards and you just prayed City would not pay for that moment.

You would have thought the clock would have clicked oh so slowly for the 6,500 City punters in that final half hour.

But their men of steel held their composure and provided warm comfort as welcome as a slug of malt on a freezing winter’s evening.

Speaking of alcoholic beverages, it was almost champagne corks that were being popped when Garry Thompson’s effort knocked on wood seven minutes from time.

Interspersed with cries of “We’re going to Wembley’ came more cutting choruses from the away contingent of of ‘You’re getting sacked in the morning’ to Lambert, who will have nightmares at the very mention of Bradford wherever his managerial trail meanders in the future.

The odds on him sticking around at Villa are certainly shortening by the day, the hour even.

Hope briefly flickered when Andreas Weinman lobbed in two minutes from time after Matt Duke raced out of goal, just as legions of gutted claret-and-blue supporters were streaming for the exit and suddenly time did seem an eternity.

But the evening was Bradford’s, with the tears shed by redoubtable captain Jones, shared by thousands in the away end.

History is made, fittingly just down the road from Molineux where City’s Premiership crusade was clinched back in 1999.

And now Wembley ...

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