A Memorable Day at Wembley
A young boy, no older than seven, boarded a train from Stockport on a Saturday morning with his father and one of his dad’s friends. Another person joined them in Wilmslow, asking the child when he found out about the Wembley tickets. It turned out that he had suspected a trip to London all week after hearing whispers at home. As they talked about the day ahead, the child displayed a shy excitement, reminiscent of the feeling we all once had when going to a big football match.
This was the first time he was witnessing Manchester City at Wembley. It was also his first visit to the capital. Although City has played at Wembley 33 times since the FA Cup semi-final against Manchester United 15 years ago, there is always a first for someone. With Pep Guardiola’s tenure, there have been 23 games at the national stadium, now 24 with a final later this month. It is no wonder that thousands of red seats were visible in their end. Following City is an expensive hobby.
These days may not be as frequent when Guardiola departs, but the lad will surely remember this over all others. The match against the Championship’s form team who knocked out Arsenal in the last eight was a nerve-jangler. The afternoon exploded into life late on.
Dramatically, City came from a goal behind with 11 minutes left – a stunningly venomous Finn Azaz strike – before substitute Jeremy Doku bailed them out 180 seconds later.
Still time for more, Nico Gonzalez, a man who has failed to convince Guardiola, thundered in a winner from 25 yards with three minutes left – the spectacle of which had captain Bernardo Silva channelling his inner Nobby Stiles. The domestic Treble is still on, still in their sights – even if this was supposed to be a serene passage to a record fourth consecutive final.
Southampton were stumbling out of the Premier League this time last year with a measly 12 points, started this season horrendously, but are upwardly mobile. It feels like a club reborn, palpable excitement at what Tonda Eckert has built since his appointment in November. City goals were a deflection off Tom Fellows and then a wonder hit. Not a great deal Eckert could plan for, there.
But plan he had. Expertly so. At one point, Guardiola stood with hands raised to head as John Stones – midway into Southampton’s half – surveyed the scene ahead of him. Tight, compact, no real passing lines and a back six who were adept at jumping from position to nick quick ball.
Stones attempted to break the first line, which can only have been eight or nine yards, between the opposition defence and their midfield. It required the surgical precision of 2023 Stones, the roving Stones, not the somewhat rusty ‘26 version who has featured in one game since Valentine’s Day.
The move broke down, as many did in an attritional first half that only served to highlight a chasm between City’s preferred team, playing alongside each other every week and in a smooth groove, and throwing together the current second string, all of whom are shy on match minutes.
Some of them, a profligate Omar Marmoush included, did their chances absolutely no good whatsoever. For that, 33-year-old Eckert deserves credit. A back six out of possession but a slight tweak on the low blocks that City have faced so many times across Guardiola’s tenure.
Rather than both wingers filling in as extra full backs, Eckert only used one to perform that dual role. Fellows dropped back to take care of Rayan Ait-Nouri’s progressive runs. And instead of Leo Scienza following suit on the other side, central midfielder Caspar Jander became a defender instead.
What Southampton gained from that decision is Scienza’s threat on the break, loitering menacingly, playing cat and mouse with City’s right back Matheus Nunes. Indeed, Scienza – the Brazilian who once slept on a basement floor while struggling in the Swedish fifth division – stroked past James Trafford early on, only to be ruled offside. The Saints end did not realise for a good 30 seconds, still jumping deliriously when the semi-final had restarted.
There felt an air of optimism from a fanbase largely made up of those who had not been around for their only FA Cup trophy in 1976, when Manchester United were downed. Each tackle was roared, every headed applauded. Jander knocking Phil Foden off his stride, Nathan Ake needing to throw himself at Fellows as he galloped clear. Guardiola’s team, narrow themselves, appeared to be cancelled out by a side whose unbeaten run beforehand stood at 20, dating back to mid-January. On current form, this could well become a league fixture again in a few months.
Tight and cagey, bordering boring, cameras panned to a couple of City supporters who had drifted off in the north London sun. Guardiola demanded a response from his players, Marmoush courageously foiled by ex-defender Taylor Harwood-Bellis at the last and Ait-Nouri finding more room on the left.
Too often City chose the wrong final ball or didn’t inject energy with enough purpose. A superstitious Guardiola will have noted that Southampton dramatically halted the 2023 Quadruple, Nathan Jones inexplicably knocking them out of the Carabao Cup.
As Foden wrapped his foot around an effort to balloon into the stands, Guardiola visibly recoiled and immediately sent for both Doku and Savinho. That shot had been Foden’s last act and he is highly unlikely to now start any further games before Thomas Tuchel names England’s squad for the World Cup. The drop off in form and confidence since Christmas has been staggering.
Peretz stopped a Savinho effort, while seconds later Guardiola was running in James Trafford’s direction to hail his intervention as Southampton broke dangerously. A game of football had broken out which must have at least awoken sleeping supporters up – only for TV cameras to pan to a snoozing man of a Saints persuasion.
Guardiola sent for Erling Haaland and Nico O’Reilly, a decision he would rather not have had to make. Then the unthinkable. Azaz span and smashed past a despairing Trafford, only for Doku to dribble across Southampton’s box, creeping in via a Fellows deflection.
Still time. Three minutes left, Gonzalez fancied it. Fancied it and thundered it, the net almost blown off its hinges. Memories, but not how you might have first envisaged.
