Newcastle 2-1 Liverpool (CUP FINAL)

&c

Nick Pope.

Kieran Trippier.

Fabian Schar.

Big Dan Burn.

Tino Livramento.

Bruno Guimaraes, captain.

Sandro Tonali.

Joelinton.

Harvey Barnes.

Alexander Isak.

Jacob Murphy.

Callum Wilson, Joe Willock, Emil Krafth, substitutes.

Eddie Howe, manager.

This is the group that did it, the team that ultimately went to Wembley and turned up on the day.

Think of all of your Newcastle United heroes.

The local lads who gave absolutely everything to the interminably lost cause - the Alan Shearers, the Bobby Robsons, the Peter Beardsleys.

Those who came in from further afield and immediately understood what it meant to be part of this club - the Kevin Keegans, the Les Ferdinands, the Rob Lees.

The mercurial geniuses who just might, you thought, have finally delivered that final magic ingredient that would have brought a trophy home - the Tino Asprillas, the Philippe Alberts, the Laurent Roberts.

Think of all of these players and wonder how the stars never aligned, for an unbelievable 70 years without a domestic trophy, 56 without any silverware at all.

In one fell swoop, this magnificent lot have done what all of your previous heroes never could.

Now don't get me wrong, my love for what came before isn't diminished in the slightest by the current squad and manager finally, FINALLY winning a cup.

I make the comparison simply to accentuate the achievement, to contextualise the adulation that will forever be bestowed upon this team, this manager.

The mood swings were wild in the lead up to this one, as a fan base I'm sure, but certainly from a personal point of view.

Earlier in the week I was telling Liverpool supporting colleagues that I had given us a 5% chance before losing Gordon, Hall and Botman, but that I'd downgraded that to less than 1% subsequently.

And yet something strange and unusual happened as the week went on.

I started to feel, not confident, but somewhat less pessimistic, and that is not a feeling I'm used to.

And then in the hour before kickoff, when asked how I was feeling, I said something previously unimaginable prior to a Cup Final - "I think we can do it".

Seems the entire team had the same feeling.

From the very start they came out and did what I had hoped they would, something Newcastle never do at Wembley, which is turn up.

There were no shrinking violets, no nerves, no overemotional exhaustion on display at all as we got into Liverpool and never let up for the entire game.

Tino Livramento in particular looked as though he'd had his Weetabix early on, our stand-in left back testing stand-in Liverpool right back Quansah with some early driving runs.

Any fears that this would leave Salah wide open were allayed, Tino restricting him to a grand total of 0 shots, 0 chances created and 0 touches in the box in 90 minutes for the first time in his career.

Tino's defensive effort was bolstered by both Big Dan Burn (impenetrable at the back) and Joelinton (absolutely monstrous even by his standards, in a new man-marking, midfield sweeper role).

And Big Dan Burn, England's Big Dan Burn, was the one who got the party started on the stroke of half time.

Having already met a few corners, in large part because he was being marked by one of the smallest players on the pitch in Alexis Mac Allister (later confirmed by Arne Slot as a deliberate strategy), the lad from Blyth rose to meet a perfect Kieran Tripper delivery and drove a header down and right into the bottom corner from range.

As for Trippier, he was back to his absolute best, playing on through obvious discomfort in the second half in a performance that rolled back the years, and hopefully satisfy the ambition that brought him here as the figurehead signing from Atletico Madrid.

Two players went almost quietly about their business all game - Fabian Schar and Sandro Tonali.

Joelinton's deep role freed Schar up to go roaming, harrying and pressing in the classy way that only Fabian Schar can.

Tonali, meanwhile, looked born to this, casually and effortlessly dominating the midfield, before showing he's not above a bit of classic shithousing when untying his lace in stoppage time in order to tie it again.

One of two positions seemingly up for grabs ahead of the game was in nets, and Nick Pope got the nod.

Though he had few saves to make, he did make one superb one handed stop to keep the score at 1-0, and came sweeping out of his goal on a couple of occasions.

In the other uncertain position there was some debate about whether Harvey Barnes would continue at left wing, or whether the West Ham game was a decoy and Howe would go for the Big Joe Little Joe dovetail.

In the end, Barnes got the nod, enabling Joelinton to go on an absolute rampage in the deepest midfield role.

Make no mistake, this was an absolutely world class performance, the icing on the cherry on top of the Joelinton redemption arc cake.

Barnes, too, played his part with an unusually direct performance, preferring to drive out wide onto his left foot rather than cutting inside.

On the other side, Murphy worked hard but looked a bit nervous and/or overexcited, blammying a shot well wide a teammate to his right - at which point I said he was bound to score or set up Isak.

Isak did what world class strikers do when they aren't getting on the ball, and stuck it in the back of the net when the chance did come his way.

In fact, he did it twice in the space of a few minutes, the first being somewhat controversially ruled out for offside, Bruno in an offside position and deemed to be in the keeper's line of sight, despite Kelleher making the initial save following which Isak tucked home.

Clearly unhappy with the decision, the ice cold Swede responded in the best possible fashion after Livramento crossed and Murphy nodded back across goal (just as the prophecy foretold).

Let's see, am I missing anyone? Oh yes, there's one more player to cover, someone who, if you listened to the chatter earlier in the season, wasn't ready to be captain of this football club.

Someone who was too emotional on the pitch to be captain, and don't forget he's shocking at winning coin tosses.

Well, step forward our silverware lifting captain, the mercurial midfielder who joined with the club in relegation danger and immediately bought in to what it means to pull on the black and white stripes.

Step forward Bruno Guimaraes.

He was everywhere, biting into tackles, winning free kicks, spraying the ball about, yes, fannying on in dangerous positions which led to a late, panic-inducing consolation for Liverpool.

But more than just what he did on the pitch, he embodies everything that fans want to see in a Newcastle player and a Newcastle captain, and I'm sure I'm speaking for most of us here.

Never more was this more evident than when he pulled his two predecessors as captain to the front of the mob to lift the cup with him, Kieran Trippier and Jamaal Lascelles.

It was a simple gesture that said everything about the togetherness of this team.

As Newcastle fans, we've often been accused of being insular, of not liking southerners or foreigners.

We all know that's bollocks - ask Les Ferdinand, Nobby Solano, Rob Lee or countless others.

The players we take to heart are the ones who appreciate the weight of the shirt on their backs, who know what they're representing when they pull it on, and nobody could accuse Bruno of not being absolutely committed to our cause.

Now here's the one reference I'm going to make to our owners.

They've put millions into the club, they've bought players, they own all the shares in the club, but this isn't their success, it's ours - the long-suffering fans, the players who've given everything, the staff working behind the scenes.

The best summary I've read of the issue was from journalist Oliver Kay, who said when the final whistle went, he wasn't thinking of Saudi Arabia, he was thinking of Newcastle (I'm paraphrasing but that was the gist).

And so, finally, finally, we had our day in the sun.

The horrifying thought that arose in my mind when Liverpool pulled one back in the 90th minute never manifested itself (I truly believe that if we'd lost if from there, we'd have never won anything and we must surely be cursed).

All of the rhetorical questions around what it would be like when we finally won something were answered.

We're in the UEFA Conference League play offs as a minimum next season now, but that won't be enough for Freeman of Newcastle Eddie Howe, the greatest Newcastle manager of modern times.

He'll have us pushing as hard as possible in the last 10 games of what looks a favourable run in.

But now, regardless of what happens for the rest of the season, we've got something tangible to look back on.

Thanks lads.