Chapter 12

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The Wembley clock hit 17 minutes. The entire section of Reds fans got up on their feet and a roaring and thunderous applause echoed around Wembley Stadium. It was like a beautiful ripple effect as a small section of Tottenham fans began to clap, then before you knew it, the whole stadium was shaking with applause.

The gesture was immeasurably thoughtful, I could not thank those Liverpool and Tottenham fans enough. 17 was Dylan's old shirt number, and I'd seen a few statuses on Facebook and a few tweets on Twitter about how everyone at Wembley should create their own tribute on FA cup final day, to pay their respects to a fallen hero, a son, brother, player and fan.

And from there on out, the eleven Reds on the pitch played with that pride and passion and belief that they'd had about them all season. Except this time around they had that fight that had slowly fallen into urgency against Galatasaray. The team had been too busy trying to defend against Drogba and Sneijder that they forgot about Drogba's diving tactics. A single, unfair and controversial penalty that the Ivorian had tactically won was what helped the Turkish team to progress in the Champions League. That's probably what hurt the most to come out of this failure, knowing we couldn't win the treble in Brendan's first season; but we sure as hell could give it our all for the double.

Daniel Sturridge's volley late on in the first half and Glen Johnson's header in the 90th minute of the game secured the FA cup and made sure it was ours.

Sturridge's goal was perfection. From about 30 yards out, Suarez took a shot at goal in which Hugo Lloris parried out to an unforgiving Daniel Sturridge outside the box. He lashed the ball into the back of the net superbly, lulling the monotone chants of the Tottenham supporters.

It was all tension and nerves from there on out. Spurs had a few chances late on in the second half, but not enough to break our defence. A couple of shaky corners and shots from outside the box were all we had to worry about; we managed to keep Adebayor, Bale and company quiet for the full 90 minutes.

The only part of the stadium that was bouncing emphatically on the 90th minute was the Red half. We'd practically shut the Tottenham fans up with Glen Johnson's header from an utterly peerless ball into the box from our captain Steven Gerrard. It was practically the last move of the match, all action was at our end of the pitch. Johnson was roaming free about 40 yards away from Gerrard, just about playing off the shoulder of Jan Vertonghen, almost in a strikers roll. And why not?! We were 1-0 up and defending well, why not roam free and take advantage of Tottenham's extremely high defensive line? And with that ball from Stevie, Glen's surprising towering header over a star struck Vertonghen and the ball flying past a confused Lloris and hitting the back of the net made sure we'd secured the cup and silenced the white half of Wembley for definite this time.

When the final whistle echoed out after Tottenham kicked off again, deafening applause and cheers rang out throughout the stadium, I celebrated with Jay, Lexa, Aaron and my parents who'd been given tickets by the club for todays occasion and I was so overjoyed that they could revel in this success, but also experience this tribute from the Reds to their son with me today. A celebration of his life, almost. Because winning the FA cup had always been his dream. And it had happened in the perfect manner.

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Sorry it's short :)

Dedicated to Anfield_rose <3 thanks for votes chum x

Stay tuned :) vote, comment, fan.

littlekopiteluu xx

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