I was at Wembley Stadium on May 14 (my eldest daughter’s birthday), 2011 to see Man City win their first trophy for 35 years.
A late strike by Yaya Toure was enough to beat Stoke City 1-0 and spark some joyous celebrations in the blue half of Manchester.
I had the chance of two tickets and the opportunity to accept was made even more appealing by the fact that my aunt Eunice was offering to put up my son Sean and myself on the Friday and Saturday nights.
Eunice was no blood relative really. Her widowed mother had married my dad’s father when he became a widower. She and dad were brought up after that as brother and sister, and became quite close.
I had never actually met her until May 2011 although we had spoken many times on the phone. She lived at Farnham in a lovely house with a massive garden, well named Great Oaks.
Her third husband was a leading light in the Yellow Pages organisation and they had been together for over 40 years when he died a couple of years before I met her.
The previous two marriages had been brief – one divorced and the second died young – but she had been completely devoted to Tim, the third husband.
My son Sean travelled with me and we were treated like royalty. She was a proper character and despite failing eyesight was lively, knowledgeable and great company.
Of course on the Saturday morning we bade farewell for the day and travelled into London and on to Wembley.
I’d purchased the tickets from a friend on the Cumberland FA and we had very good seats among the City fans. It was the first time I’d been to Wembley since the ‘new’ stadium was officially opened four years earlier.
Sean was there for the first time and we were both impressed, but of course the result made it even better.
We got back to Farnham for a meal, a few drinks and a really pleasant catch up with some wonderful stories from Eunice’s time in Cumberland when she and dad lived with the newlyweds at Egremont’s Wood Bank.
She used to ring dad on a fairly regular basis and the next time she rang him was full of the visit we had made.
Sadly it was the only occasion we met and the next time I was at Great Oaks was to attend her funeral in 2013.
Rather poignantly Sean and I were back at Wembley that year, too, when City lost out to Wigan Athletic. But instead of Great Oaks it was a bed and breakfast in Paddington.
