Sleep, Bookings, Stansfield & Blues Are Off To Wembley!

A long and frustrating game ended gloriously as Birmingham City booked their place at Wembley, seeing off Bradford City in the process.

On Saturday night, my head hit the pillow and I slept.

A minor cold, largely caused by my last excursion to St.Andrews had begun to dissipate. Blues had won again. I’d enjoyed a lovely home-cooked Valentine's dinner with my wonderful partner. And to top it off, I got a lengthy lie-in. For those with young kids, I’m sure you’ll understand.

It quickly counted for little. The boiler went. The oven went. Teething and squealing took over our life. I’d had painfully little sleep in the two nights preceding the game and found myself wolfing down a cup of tea for a caffeine boost before running out to meet my brother on Tuesday evening. It was the equivalent of sticking the big man up top for the final 10 after seeing a one-goal lead become a 3-1 deficit.

Things didn't improve much. Leaving an hour and 20 before kick off should be plenty of time. It wasn't. We're half hour till kick off and haven't made it past Heartlands. Parking is even more difficult than usual. We're told the queues to get in are horrendous. And yet, somehow, at 08:11, I've found a seat, which definitely isn't my designated seat, to watch the game as intended – from kick-off.

Make it worth it, please.

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Ten minutes in and nothing has happened. Well, if it had, I wouldn't have seen it thanks to the bloke slightly taller than me stood right at the front of the concrete with a giant black hood over his noggin. Fortunately, a woman moved to the front to find a seat and gave me the chance to move back a few rows. Better view of the pitch too.

But the game was crap. From memory, Alex Cochrane blazed over and Jay Stansfield turned a forward pass from Ben Davies into a control and strike. We weren't giving anything away, but we looked leggy and were sloppy against a well organised, highly motivated Bradford City side that showed real energy and tenacity yet were happy to allow the game down at every opportunity.

We lacked the usual zip and purpose in our play. We were slow in moving the ball, weren't making the same level of forward runs. Meanwhile Bradford are on the front foot from a mid-block position, quick to get out and condense the pitch with the wing-backs stepping on and the back three sticking together as a unit. They weren’t leaving themselves open, which made the direct route less effective, yet were sharp in stopping our short game.

Yet the big frustration was the time wasting. Now, I don't blame Bradford. You gotta do what you gotta do. Silence the crowd. Get them anxious. Take your time and get your breathers in. And so they set up for every goal kick by bringing Shepherd, I forget his first name from memory, back to play short despite having no intention of giving it. So Walker puts it down. Then pushes Shepherd on and moves the ball again. And he wants for his team-mates to get into position. Then waits some more. Then kicks it. Almost every goal kick or deep free-kick took 30 seconds.

The referee took note and after the fourth occasion, he had a word with goalkeeper Sam Walker. I'm standing amongst the crowd thinking “okay, he's registered it, he'll do something soon". He didn't. It happened again and again. By having a word with him, you’ve give us more justification for when it happens again. Book him.

And here’s my big pet peeve with it all. Why it time wasting only deemed time wasting when a team is leading? We’ll have to watch so much of it at 0-0 and 1-1 yet the moment we take the lead, Allsop or somebody else is getting booked. It even happened against us when Fernandez was booked about 20 minutes in for Peterborough. It’s maddening.

And I don’t blame Bradford at all. It was working for them and they deserve credit for it. I was frustrated. The crowd noise suggested I wasn't alone. And had they gone ahead when Jamie Walker nodded down for Brad Halliday, they'd have deserved it. Ben Davies you absolute hero.

We continued to plod away. The key pass, the attempted sharp one‐twos and other bits in the final third weren't coming off at all. Then Gardner-Hickman, who looked a little rusty on his return to the side, beat his man and won a free-kick. Kieran Dowell takes and... he’s produced better. But the ball is punched back out to him and he dinks it to Stansfield who controls on his chest and FUCKING YES!!!!

Jay. Fucking. Stansfield.

That kid has stepped up time and again. Wrexham on his debut. Those penalties. Barnsley. Charlton. Stevenage. Now this. And what a goal. On the chest, first time volley. Come on!

Who are ya. Who are ya. Who are ya. What a waste of money. What a waste of money. Twenty million down the drain, Jay Stansfield scores again.

We lead at half-time.

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The second half begins and I'm not sure how, but having been split during the first half, I'm stood with my brother and stepdad. Great stuff. But where did everybody else go? It can't have been that bad!

It's still scrappy but the pace has noticeably quickened. Wait, are we singing Que Sera? What are we doing? Hoooooold on. I don't care that this is a different Birmingham City. It's still Birmingham City. Don't get singing that until the job is done.

Scott Wright sends Stansfield into the area and he beats Shepherd, gets goal side of Romoney Crichlow-Noble and it's got to be a penalty. He's made no attempt to play the ball and landed on Stansfield. Ref. Ref. Lino. Oi. It’s a pen. Blow your whistle. Shit, Stansfield is still down. He’d normally be up and remonstrating by now. Loves an argument that kid. This isn’t good. Oh fuck, they've scored.

I didn't see really see what happened and haven't looked back yet (as you can probably tell by the state of this report). But the noise is now coming from the away end as attentions turn to Stansfield and Walker is calling on the physios and referee.

I sympathise to a point with the officials. It's a bad call. It happens. But the optics are bad for him. He's not done anything about the time wasting. He's not given what looked a stonewall penalty from my view directly level with the incident. They've just equalised having broke from that moment. And the fan favourite and goalscorer is now being stretchered off the pitch. Rightly or wrongly, he's the centre of the attention.

The crowd were already awake. Now the feral nature of this working class fanbase is alive.

Alfie May is on. Ethan Laird is on. Keshi Anderson is on. Time to step it up a notch. Or not. We've got more pace and athleticism but we're also now being hurt by a genuine threat from our opposition. Graham Alexander isn't daft. He's tweaked something. Both sides are forced to defend their boxes. Ryan Allsop gets into it with somebody and Paik Seung-Ho shoves their lad away with decent force. Go on Paik. Dowell finds Willumson after patient play but the shot is weak.

How long lino? Ref! Book him. 1. 2. 3... 20. 21... How are they getting away with this? Fuuuuuuuuuck me. I don't lose my head often at football matches. I did here. It’s such a simple solution to such an obvious thing.

Willumson is slowing down. Dowell is sloppy. Even Iwata and Paik are picking up the bug. Klarer is trying to drive forward. Laird is being tripled up on. May is rusty. Dykes is on. We need to do something.

Laird is in down the right and plays early for May. Near post save. Better. Corner and Willumson is in down the right. Laird touches it as Davies lines up to shoot but it’s blazed over.

Laird wants to run but there's no space. Klarer swings one in. Willumson wastes an opportunity or two. Paik and Cochrane can’t find the right angle. Iwata is keeping it simple. Laird doesn't cross and gives it to Iwata and he won't cro.... ooooo, he’s put it in. Dykes. Dykes. YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!! LYNDON DYKES!!!!!!!

I don't know how to describe the feeling of knowing as soon as I saw Iwata cross it and Dykes step forward, Dykes was scoring. And what a header. You fucking beauty.

Now please, for the love of God, stop singing Que Sera.

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Shepherd goes up top. Grant Hanley replaces Willum Willumson. Lyndon Dykes is now on the left of a 5-4-1 / 5-2-2-1 with Keshi joining Laird, who looks absolutely battered after an 80 yard run.

The oles last about 5 seconds. May is through but doesn’t risk it. Paik is taking the piss down the left. Just keep the ball. Dykes can't quite send May in. Anderson is through, ah, he's playing safe. May is working his socks off but nothing is coming off.

Whistles ring around the ground as the 11 minutes of injury time are up. Yes, 11 minutes. Thank you for wasting time Bradford, here is your reward aa you make up that time and try and get another goal. Ahhhhhhhhh. Anyway, come on ref, blow up. Good lad Crichlow-Noble. Haha, Alfie just started tying his laces up to block the ball. Que Sera Sera. I give up at this point.

The full-time whistle blows.

Fuck it.

QUE SERA SERA!

WE’RE OFF TO WEMBLEY!