The second period started much as the first one had, with Shrewsbury on top. By 56 minutes, it seemed as though it was only a matter of time before they scored. We were pinned back in our eighteen yard area, all our players throwing themselves in front of tackles, fighting as hard as they could. We chased and harassed, battled and scrapped but still the Shrews kept coming. Then, almost at exactly the same time as a round of applause for the 56 started to ripple amongst the fans in the know, the pressure abated. Did the Shrews tire? did Messrs Stacey and West decide enough was enough and we’d proven our worth? Whatever happened, from that minute on we got ourselves back into the game and instilled belief in our fans that we might just win this bloody trophy after all. To be fair, we did save it by beating Chelsea so it was only fair we took it home once all was said and done.

Rheady could have put us two up when none other than Elliott Whitehouse turned provider, supplying the same pulled back cross he did for Matt Green against Grimsby. Instead of a tap in, Rheady had a drive to complete but instead fired just over. 2-0 would have killed the game off, instead not long after the big man came off. He got a rapturous applause and rightly so, although I don’t think the big open spaces of Wembley suited his style of play.

It was clear what Danny wanted to do now, game management. There was 30 minutes on the clock when Ollie Palmer came on, 26 when Harry Anderson got his Wembley stripes, but we were going into management mode. The ball began to travel back across the defence more. Alex Woodyard turned away from play and slowed it down more too. When we’re on it, and I mean really on it, we’re the best in League Two at managing a game. There’s fewer matches with more pressure than Wembley cup finals, but we stuck to the game plan, offering the Shrews less touches of the ball. One moment had Sam Habergham looking terrified as he slipped, potentially gifting the Shrews a run on goal. Instead, the ball cannoned off their player for a throw in.

When they did get a touch, they looked dangerous. I liked Nathan Thomas and Shaun Whalley, both players who looked to make things happen. I suppose, begrudgingly, Nolan is pretty handy too. We always knew he was a good footballer, but as the game wore on he began to let that trademark mood of his drop, eventually picking up a booking for a petulant foul. Once he got that, you knew his head had gone and he wouldn’t be effective. I’m not sure he had a meaningful touch following his yellow card. Same old Nolan.

In fact, Shrewsbury didn’t get on the ball much after it either. 86 minutes; Nolan booked. 95 minutes plus a few seconds; City win the Checkatrade Trophy. Those final 20 minute or so passed without incident, bar bitten nails, clenched bums and the odd tear, and that was just Alan Long.

On reflection, yes we were lucky but we also played incredibly well against a side more used to tussling with Blackburn and Wigan than Lincoln City. Remember also, we lacked three of our first team players due to being cup tied and have Josh Vickers injured. There’s little doubt one of Wharton or Wilson would have played, so we certainly lacked two first team players, if not three. That is crucial to remember, especially as Shrewsbury fielded virtually the same side that beat Oxford in the League on Easter Monday. Aside from the commentators with blue and yellow shirts on, few would be able to spot which side were League Two and which weren’t.

Elliott Whitehouse was official Man of the Match and he’s certainly one of a couple that could have got it. For me, it had to be Michael Bostwick for his unending bravery, his fearless leadership and fearsome tackle. Mind you, it wouldn’t be easy to pick a player who didn’t do well. Luke Waterfall was also excellent against some pretty tough centre forwards, Luke and Alex took the time on the ball they needed in the middle of the park, but restricted the Shrews midfield wherever possible. I thought Matt Green worked really hard too, when you’re as all-action as him the last thing you need is a bigger pitch, but he coped remarkably well.

What happened after the final whistle is history, as they say. I felt a bit for Nicky, the screen cut away from him holding the trophy aloft and few cheered as he raised it, only for it to come back on as he passed it to Danny. It is the latter who gets the headlines, but the former is every bit as much a part of this success as anyone.

Now we have to put the game to bed and move on, just like we did in the weeks leading up to it. At the end of the season is time for reflection, time for reliving the memories and relishing the moment. After our cup final last year against Arsenal our form suffered and we can’t be letting that happen again. I must admit, I can’t see that happening, because Danny and Nicky won’t let it. People will keep the memories from Sunday with them forever, but I can guarantee tomorrow morning the Port Vale video will be on the screen and not one person will be thinking about Wembley.

I’m not a Checkatrade denier, but we park it and move on so that in two moth’s time, we’re back at the home of English football for yet another of those wonderful memories we keep creating.

HELP MAKE ME A WINNER, JUST LIKE THE IMPS

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