The fourteen year period since Everton’s last cup final appearance has had its ups and downs; relegation dog-fights, a Champions League endeavour thwarted by the man considered to be the greatest referee in the world, the heart-breaking exit of one of the most promising products of our youth academy and seventh, seventeenth and fourth place finishes in consecutive seasons. We thought we had some silverware during ’99 season, but realised that it was actually Francis Jeffers doing an FA Cup impression. From Duncan Ferguson’s enforced exit in ‘98 to Dan Gosling’s 118^th minute winner against Liverpool this season, it is fair to say that the club has taken its fans to all extremes of football-related emotion.

As Mike Riley blew his whistle at the end of extra time in this season’s FA Cup semi-final, the heart-breaking defeat on penalties to Fiorentina which ended last season’s impressive UEFA Cup run was preying on the mind of most Evertonians. The country’s two best central defensive partnerships had frustrated the comparatively unimpressive attacking players on show and now it was down to spot kicks.

Fingernails steadily decreased as Tim Cahill timidly approached the penalty spot in front of the daunting Manchester United fans. There was nothing timid about the shot, however. Unfortunately, it blazed high over the crossbar into those gleeful fans that, by this point, could practically smell the quintuple which they have bizarrely been harping on about since the beginning of the season. At the same time, painful memories of penalty misses from Yakubu and Jagielka came hurtling back to the on-looking Blue-clad army.

Cahill’s blushes were spared, however, as the other Tim, Howard, denied his old club with a relatively easy save from Berbatov’s infamously weak effort. Perhaps it was arrogance, laziness, an off-putting look from Howard or merely a lack of concentration which caused the Bulgarian international to stroke the ball towards the grateful American as softly as an animal lover might stroke a new-born kitten; whatever the reason, it re-ignited Everton’s Cup dream which was further fuelled by Leighton Baines’ rocket of a shot.

A further Howard save from Rio Ferdinand’s almost-as-pathetic-as-Berbatov attempt paved the way for Everton captain (and former “Fergie’s Fledgling”) Phil Neville to further compound the misery for his old club. A post-aided goal for Vidic and calmly hit success for James Vaughan left Anderson with the unenviable task of keeping his side in the competition. This he did with aplomb, meaning that the responsibility to finish things off for the Toffees was left to lifelong Evertonian, Phil Jagielka. It takes a lot to step up to take the penalty which will book your team a place in the final of football’s most famous competition; even more so when your last one sent your team crashing out of Europe. Jags, however, applied a further coat of blue tinted varnish to his now seemingly untouchable Player of the Season bid with a calmly struck effort which put talk of an unprecedented quintuple firmly to a cosy (and I like to think lavender-scented) bed.

Although fingernails were by this point in worryingly low supply for Evertonians worldwide, the party commenced amid an entirely futile sea of Man United team selection complaints. In truth, to claim that the team fielded by Ferguson was inadequate does a great disservice to the highly talented players on show at Wembley. Although not the most exciting 120 minutes of football, (thanks in part to the stop-start nature of Mike Riley’s questionable refereeing style,) the likes of Macheda, Welbeck, Gibson and the Da Silva twins caused Everton a considerable amount of concern with their slick passing and that ability to create huge amounts of space which has become so typical of Manchester United’s play in recent years.

Indeed, it cannot be ignored that it was Ferdinand and Berbatov who had their penalties saved, rather than any of the younger players. Sir Alex Ferguson has an amazing depth of squad and any hopes of achieving the quintuple could not be realized without utilizing such an abundance of talent. If ever there were an exception to the old adage of taking one game at a time, it would be in the case of Manchester United’s pursuit of three wins in different competitions within the space of a week.

Even if the likes of Ronaldo and Rooney (who incidentally spent most of the match against Porto hobbling around the pitch wincing like a puppy shot with a paintball gun) had played, it would have been with the knowledge that they have another match to play within the next few days. The risk of them subconsciously trying to conserve their energy for such an important fixture was too high for Ferguson to take. Manchester United does not have some divine right to win every competition in which it competes, as certain fans and even pundits appear to think. That it was Everton who proved its downfall, however, gives me more than a little cause to snigger every few minutes.

Such an expectation of silverware at Manchester United means that failing in any one competition raises all sorts of questions- in this case, questions about team selection, the state of the pitch (which all four teams had to play on this weekend,) and the “influence” of David Moyes on Mike Riley. (I say this in inverted commas because Moyes has at no point described Riley as a Manchester United fan, as so many sources have recently claimed.) But those involved with the Red Devils can pose interrogatives all they like; come May the 30^th, Wembley will be a beautiful Blue sea, and having waited fourteen long years for it, I’m going to enjoy every single second. We do not “expect” silverware to magically appear at Everton, but I can assure you that we will relish this opportunity to win some like a big delicious FA Cup flavoured hotdog.

Emma Pursey