Glad to oblige with John Aizlewood's very enjoyable article:
THE INEVITABLE post-match pitch invasion involved the unusual sight of police horses on the Carrow Road turf, but for the most part it was a good-natured, albeit stupendously loud, affair. Norwich City will be at Wembley next week, while Ipswich Town will be at MK Dons next season.
But in order to sip from the Premier League Holy Grail once again, Norwich must dispense with Middlesbrough a week tomorrow. Their latest vanquishing of their local rivals was hardly perfunctory, but it was certainly straight-forwards. Victory was about more than mere pride, but in the glow of victory, there was pride by the Fenload. “On the big stage, big players step up to the plate,” explained City’s impressive young manager Alex Neil, whose arrival in January transformed early-season underachievers into genuine contenders. “That’s what happened today. We’ve a 50-50 chance of going up but if any team can do it, it’s mine. There’s a lot of expectation here but I thrive on it. The fear of failure of letting my employers and the supporters down drives me.”
A playoffs loser as manager of Millwall, Sunderland and Wolverhampton Wanderers, the sanguine Ipswich manager Mick McCarthy trod wearily familiar ground. “Right now, I just want to go on holiday, but when I analyse this, I’ll know I couldn’t be prouder of my players. I’m sick but I’d feel the same if we’d lost at Wembley. Look at how Middlesbrough and Norwich celebrated: in a week’s time, one will be as sick as a seaside donkey.”
Unafraid to embrace potential hubris, before kick-off City went to town on Town. Yellow and green flags were provided, former scorers against Ipswich were paraded, the PA volume was pumped up and the on-pitch announcer was in a state of advanced hysteria. Yet, in a wretched first half, Ipswich hardly looked like a side who had failed to win in Norfolk in over a decade or away at all since March.
Although Ipswich had a surfeit of vim and swagger they had a deficit of quality and Norwich’s early rabbits-in-headlights showing went unpunished. Ominously for the visitors, the only first half chance went to Norwich when Russell Martin’s 20-yarder flew past goalkeeper Bartosz Bialkowski, only for Paul Anderson to hack clear.
In contrast to the stagnant first-half, the second was an explosion. Ipswich surrendered possession too cheaply, too near their goal. Wes Hoolahan played in Nathan Redmond, who span around Luke Chambers. His shot beat Bialkowski but not Christophe Berra, who palmed the ball to safety. The centre-back was dismissed. Hoolahan sent the penalty to Bialkowski’s right as the Pole flopped left.
“No point analysing it,” shrugged McCarthy. “Stonewall penalty and sending off. Of course he should have pulled his hand away, but we’re hot-wired to stop the ball going into the net.”
Ipswich’s 10 heads failed to drop and 10 minutes later, they were level. Teddy Bishop slung in a hopeful free kick. Daryl Murphy headed it down. For an instant John Ruddy in goal hesitated and centre-half Tommy Smith nipped in and gleefully tapped home. Could Ipswich hang on and march to Wembley? They could not. Four minutes later, Martin Olsson’s cross-shot was parried by Bialkowski into Jonny Howson’s path. The midfielder squared for the untracked Redmond, who calmly slotted City’s second under Bialkowski.
Now Ipswich were broken and when Jay Tabb squandered midfield possession, Redmond ran through a tiring defence. Smith missed the through-ball, Cameron Jerome reached it before Bialkowski and guided City to Wembley.
From there, City kept their cool, kept the ball in Ipswich’s half and avoided anything calamitous. It was enough. In truth, it was more than enough.
