It was a moment to be savoured. It gave us a badly needed lift, but it's temporary, and put a smile, after all the pain, onto the worn and drawn faces of hardened City fans, completely destroyed by the week's events. We still hope for the best or that it's not as bad as it seems but we're preparing for the worst.
I can't think of any time when the reality of debts and gross mismanagement have hit home and blown apart a club so dramatically. However that's due to the smokescreen and never ending bullshit (sorry, there's no other apt word other than spin) the club have put on us.
Sam, The Modern Day Pied Piper, lead everyone a merry dance as the business spiralled out of control because there was no control. Sure, he wasn't helped by stadium delays and other factors but, more than anything, this is a terrible tale of what can go wrong when a dictator runs any company and allowed to do it unchallenged and how he damn well likes.
City's well being and future undoubtedly hinged on one premise alone, a new stadium and the riches it may bring. We put all our eggs in one basket but cracked and smashed them long ago. Major projects never run smoothly but it became obvious that so many were caused by the club never submitting plans on time, changing them and unable to produce a viable business plan, the last bit they still haven't done.
However we were always told to Keep The Faith, anyone who didn't believe was shouted down and branded as not a true Cardiff City fan or part of The Family. The Family being apt because, sometimes, it felt like the Mafia.
Of course, there was a huge pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Start the stadium and there's £10M-£15M for the team, there were always those mystery American investors ready to flood us with money and promise after promise after promise. The fact that promises stopped being turned into delieverables long ago seemed irrelevant, we wanted to believe, we had to believe as so problems were swept under the carpet as club, owner, officials and fans alike all seemed to be in complete denial they actually existed.
We clung and held on limpet-style to that faith and belief until it all came crashing down everywhere this week. Nobody is to blame for that, Cardiff City has been a horrible club to support all our lives and always let us down. This time felt different. With two promotions, a famous FA Cup victory, a never to be forgotten day at Millennium Stadium and the club buying, rather than selling, we'd never had it so good.
And good times they were but how reality bites. The dream's over lads, it's a bloody nightmare.
On Tuesday, supporters reeled with the tip of the iceberg news that the club had failed to pay its incredible (and so obviously out of control) £750,000 monthly wage bill. "Don't panic" said Chief Executive David Temme, "it's just a clerical error, it's happens to the best businesses". But it doesn't David, Cardiff City is nothing like a best business and I honestly can't think of the last time Temme said anything convincing or with a ring of truth to it in public.
By the end of the day, that clerical error, "nothing more", converted into the poorest and vaguest piece of p.r. ever - it should win an award - with the official website announcing simply that the new stadium work was delayed yet again, it was now August or September (cleverly, they omitted to which which year this would be) and that, ominously, the club was reviewing it operations.
From that moment on, the collapse has been truly astonishing and shocking. Even those who always feared trouble ahead were left stunned. Wednesday saw Sam Hammam admit that auditors were at the club reviewing accounts, looking to cut costs. By evening and into the following day came rumours of a boardroom rift with Michael Isaac offering to pay wages and Sam declining and then, the night, brought us, and the club, to its knees.
Lennie insisted no players would be sold before this game. Given his track record with predictions, you just knew there would be. With players being touted and hawked around like home clear out items on E-Bay, late night brought the crippling news that Captain Graham Kavanagh - maybe not the best but certainly our most influential player - had been sold to Wigan for £350k (which could rise depending on events at Wigan) and, on the dubbed Black Friday, deals were being hammered out for at least 8 other players. That was for starters.
Sam Hammam admitted being a buffoon - he's being far too kind - and that there was financial mismanagement. The master of the over-statement had, indeed, now become master of the under-statement. Bigger Than Barcelona? We may be about to become as Bad As Barry.
Details of that financial mismanagement now emerging are horrific. Allegedly, Sam's own company took loans passed onto the club with extra interest, loans were taken out to clear other loans, players on Premiership style wages and bonuses and the very generous dividends claimed by Sam for his 'expertise'. Not bad for someone who told us first time that he met us how he would pay his own way and even buy his own match tickets for games eh?
What I don't doubt, amongst the carnage and chaos, is that Sam genuinely meant well and wanted the best for the club ... as well as himself. But he got his business model so wrong and out of control and when he didn't, he made it even worse. That's irresponsible and indefensible. Being in total denial about the gravity of our problems, and making them worse, is what has brought about the complete mess now unfolding.
No wonder the usual pre-match chat was not about laughs and banter although we did manage to speculate (i) how many players City should sell before Andy Campbell should be considered for a place on the sub's bench (ii) which youth destined to become first teamers in the coming weeks should we vote in as Player of the Year (iii) how we turn the lights off when we leave the game and (iv) how many had put money on the 7/2 odds on City to go down set by national bookmakers completely unaware that the certain sale of more players and likely administration make it odds on. In truth, we were a self-help group on a mutual counselling session. I've never seen beers drunk more slowly.
Walking up Sloper Road, programme sellers were bombarded with quips that they should keep the money as their wages, fans wondering whether they should buy more copies to sell on E-Bay if it is City's last home game before going bust. The programme itself had our dear deluded Lennie issue this classic, "if you're reading this programme at the game, you're obviously a Cardiff fan unless you're from Sheffield". Ali got the emotions of the day spot on as the tannoy system belted out, "I hate you so much right now".
Inside the ground, the 2:50pm regular rendition of Men of Harlech was the most muted ever with nobody singing it, few clapping along to it. All eyes were on the director's box and out came Steve Borley sitting next to Michael Isaac very much wanting to look like a saviour and prospective owner with a 'you won't miss me in this' huge bright yellow scarf.
David Temme sat behind them presumably telling people that the business plan is still on course, the latest filed accounts of £29.6M debt happens at the best run businesses and Father Christmas really does exist. Surely, it was a clerical error that saw him installed as City's Chief Exec? There was however no sign of Sam even though he was known to be at the ground with some saying how he was jostled by a few outside.
The tell-tale sign was a policeman standing next to the dugout. The self-proclaimed street fighter had sneaked in there, apparently wearing a scarf over his head and sporting a Cardiff City jacket instead of his usual overcoat. The street fighter also left and went home early.
It was with some irony that with auditors present, the crowd was announced as 12,206, with 300 or so Sheffield fans. It looked sparse in many areas and I bet I wasn't the only one who thought it looked much smaller than previous crowds declared at 11-12,000. Not a bad crowd for a funeral anyway. There'll also be big crowds banging on the doors of Ninian Park next week as creditors will want their monies now.
Anyway, for what it's worth, let's talk football.
City ran out as one. They went to the centre circle as one and waved and clapped every part of the ground, the crowd cheered and applauded them back. Players knew it was probably their last Cardiff match, the crowd knew it too. I'm not ashamed to say I had tears in my eyes and the heaviest of hearts. The week's events have hit me hard, affected me bad but I knew there's plenty like me.
City managed to kick-off without selling anyone else (or did they?) so there were two changes from the team well beaten 2-1 at Sunderland last week. Ginge Collins returned after a 1 match sending off ban replacing Tony Vidmar whilst Joe Ledley was asked to fill Graham Kavanagh's boots in central midfield. Danny Gabbidon was made Captain. I don't know if he gets a pay rise for that but if he's not being paid anyway, it didn't matter.
Both sides went into a pre-match huddle, City's lasting much longer and it seemed fitting.
The line up for the Cardiff City Selling Stakes was therefore Alexander, Weston-Collins-Gabbidon-Barker, Langley-Ledley-Inamoto-McAnuff, Jerome-Thorne. Subs were Bullock-Fleetwood-Vidmar-Warner-Williams and Hammam I guess.
Sheffield United came to Ninian Park in 8th place, 2 points off the play-offs with an excellent 8 away wins and 3 draws in 17 away days this season and having proved their credentials after Arsenal needed 2 games, extra-time and penalties before finally knocking them out of the F.A. Cup in midweek.
Neil Warnock's side included Paddy Kenny in goal, a defence including Chris Morgan (the first player to expose Neil Alexander's failing to come for crosses when he scored tow free headers for Barnsley a couple fo seasons ago), Danny Cullip and Jon Harley. Other notables included Phil Jagielka, Andy Liddell and Luke Beckett.
The first half was as poor as they get. The atmosphere very subdued after the initial chants of "Oh Sam Hammam is full of sh*t" and the defiant "Ooh ahh Graham Kavanagh", "You are my Cardiff" and "we're the greatest team in football" had died down. Conditions didn't help, it was sunny bit bitter, a string wind blowing down the pitch from Canton Stand to the Grange End goal that The Blades were attacking.
City worked and tried but looked a little disjointed and unorganised, only to be expected in a week where so badly disrupted, and Sheffield were abysmal. Their sole tactic was unimaginative route one style and ralgex was being handed out to the crowd dealing with neckache from watching the ball pumped into the air and balls into City's box being a flood of up and unders. City's defence with Gabbs and Ginge marshalling are far too good for that and had no problems, they barely broke sweat.
Sheffield had one realistic shot at goal, it seemed fitting that a 25 yard free kick was hit over the Grange End roof and away to Cardiff Bay. That was bettered when one of their defenders, under no pressure, smashed the ball out of the ground between Canton Stand and Bob Bank and over the railway tracks. Maybe they were sub-consciously preparing us for life back in the lower divisions.
City had some half-chances. Peter Thorne snapped a shot wide on 2 minutes. Ten minutes later, without notice or warning, he walked off, spoke to Lennie and Terry Burton and was sent down the tunnel. Shouts went up of "what the **** is going on?".
Some suggested he had been sold just before the game, others joked a helicopter was landing in the car park for him (as happened the day before with Kav) but Lennie said he had a hamstring pull. Although Lennie had striker Stuart Fleetwood on the bench, he didn't fancy too young a strikeforce so opted to partner Cameron Jerome with midfielder Lee Bullock.
City's best moment came midway though the half where a terrific goalmouth scramble saw two close range efforts blocked and as Richard Langley clipped the ball back across goal, Paddy Kenny's attempt to tip over saw him push the ball onto his crossbar instead before being put behind.
Half-time: CITY 0 SHEFFIELD UNITED 0 and the teams went off with Ali playing The Clash's Armageddon Time.
The game was a mere sideshow given current events, it was difficult to whip up too much passion and, ok I'll admit it, I stayed under the Grandstand for the first 20 minutes talking to other lifelong diehard City fan who will always be there no matter what. I think those of us in that category are more pragmatic about events, we won't disappear, we just pray the club doesn't.
In that time, with City now enjoying the wind behind them and realising Sheffield were in dire form, they knew the game was there for the taking and went for it. They deserve all the credit, respect and plaudits that they had after the most traumatic of weeks.
It was a one way blue tide towards Sheffield's goal, the longer the game went on, the more City believed. There was only going to be one winner, it was just a case of whether City would find the goal they play deserved.
Lee Bullock, quiet overall, tested Kenny early, the excellent Jobi McAnuff fired wide from 25 yards after a great run, Cameron Jerome who had the Blades defence in panic whenever on the ball saw one effort blocked, another put wide and Paddy Kenny make the luckiest of saves with his legs, Joe Ledley put an effort over. Crosses and corners with purpose were being sent in but Sheffield were hanging on.
It was frustrating, almost as frustrating as ref Dermot Gallagher's performance. The bald headed one, at times, seemed to carry on with the Millwall ref (that infamous Jones fella) finished off with inconsistent and controversial decisions. At least four times, a City player was fouled with the team enjoying good advantage but play was stopped, Sheffield did enjoy the benefit of some generous free-kick decisions, Jobi McAnuff was victim of a callous late challenge but the offender was spoken to then James Collins was booked for an innocuous offence. It was spoiling the game, but, fortunately, not the result.
Not long after Ali announced the crowd but, for the first time, didn't include the name of Sam Hammam in thanking us for our support, it was time to temporarily party.
With quarter of an hour remaining, and Sam long gone, Jobi McAnuff showed the skill of the
day to bring down a high dropping spinning ball with one touch and instantly ghost past two defenders in the area, his low ball was blocked by a defender but ran to JOE LEDLEY who swept home from 8 yards low in style.
It was entirely fitting that a local boy, a City fan, a youngster, someone replacing Kav scored the winner and he knew what to do. His only thought was to charge to the Bob Bank where he went always went to watch City as a kid and celebrate with the fans. The rest of the team joined him, it was a magnificent moment and we relished it.
With a goal behind them, City got more confident and even better. Whether sapped by their FA Cup replay or not, Sheffield were clearly second best, outplayed and well beaten, they knew it. Junichi Inamoto had a shot blocked, Richard Langley almost finished a sweet move by firing inches over with Kenny beaten. With two minutes remaining, Cameron Jerome came off to a standing ovation, Fleetwood had a run out.
The crowd were buzzing and singing away as if promotion to the Premiership depended on the win, the atmosphere was electric and stirring as those passionate chants for the club and of defiance rang out from all parts of the ground.
Final whistle released all the pent up emotions of the week. The roar was enormous and so were the player celebrations. Big, beaming smiles everywhere, Gabbs and Ginge dancing and hugging with each other, players clapping and waving to all parts of the ground again and one or tow like Chris Barker personally walking around the ground to wave in front of all sections. And yes, I was gone again, a grown adult in the company of adults and I was tearful and couldn't look at them. How many of those players we see next week at Coventry is highly debatable but it would seem many will only set foot inside Ninian Park again playing for other sides, the team and essence of the club about to be dismantled piece by piece.
For the record, City remain in 20th, three points above relegation with a better goal difference with a game in hand on many that could, in theory, see them climb to 17th. It all seems completely academic and futile. For supporters only interested in watching football, that's probably the most tragic part of all.
Report from FootyMad
An amazing display of resilience and character steered the Bluebirds to a deserved victory.
Even without skipper Graham Kavanagh, the cash-strapped Welsh club more than matched a United side who had held Arsenal to an FA Cup stalemate in midweek.
After a battling opening period, City upped the tempo in the second half and it was Joe Ledley who scored the all important winner.
City suffered a severe blow after just 13 minutes when Peter Thorne left the field to be replaced by Lee Bullock. The former York midfielder went upfront to partner Cameron Jerome.
Jerome showed plenty of endeavour backed by strong vocal support from the home fans, but apart from a cross from Richard Langley that was pushed on to his own bar by Blades keeper Paddy Kenny, there was little to suggest they could prise open the visitors defence.
United had the benefit of the strong wind and they sent numerous high balls into the City danger area to make use of that advantage, but new skipper Daniel Gabbidon and James Collins were strong at the heart of the defence.
City's first shot on target came in the 47th minute when a weak attempt by Bullock was easily gathered by Kenny, but the Bluebirds piled on the pressure and Kenny was forced to punch clear as Cardiff made use of the strong wind.
A cross by Chris Barker was met by Bullock but his glancing header drifted wide of the post.
City scored the goal their second-half performance deserved in the 75th minute and it was made by dangerman Jobi McAnuff.
He jinked and turned wide on the left before crossing low into the six-yard box. The ball was hacked clear but only to Ledley who thumped a left-foot shot into the corner of the net from 12 yards out.
Neil Warnock sent on Alan Quinn and Simon Francis in the closing minutes in an effort to rescue a point but City held firm.
External reports
Wales On Sunday
Western Mail