Advances...

A second trip to Wembley is on the cards - Hull FC's defence outstanding in the 16-22 victory over the Bradford Bulls in the Challenge Cup and propelling them into the semi-finals. There was someone on crazy, whacky commercial station KCFM this morning suggesting that Hull City's promotion to the Premier League will result in dramatic reductions in crime, raised educational standards and a city full of aspirational youngsters that spurn drink, drugs and twocing in favour of working hard and earning so much money that the whole of Hull can be rebuilt out of gold within a week. So, cripes, if FC manage to get their hands on the Challenge Cup again surely the entire universe will have no choice but to start to revolve around us?

Wembley...

This, if you'll excuse the bad stitching, is the view we enjoyed at Wembley. It looked somewhat different inside the stadium come kick-off...

And pretty magical come the final whistle...

Hull - a city of winners...

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I have a bag full of pasties and crisps and my clothes are all ready to jump into in the early hours of tomorrow morning before I head off to Wembley. It'll be a great day.

I couldn't have missed such a significant moment in the city's history now, could I? But I'm really there for my dad, who would have given anything to have seen a player in black and amber crack in the goal that took his beloved Tigers into the top flight for the first time in their history. Everything is crossed in the hope that another dream is about to come true. Readers based in Orlando can watch the game here.

Wembley? Hull City? Been there, done that...

In 1986 - when I was 'between' building sites - I was an extra in Mark Herman's short film See You At Wembley, Frankie Walsh, which was about a football-mad bridegroom whose wedding day coincided with Hull City reaching the semi-finals of the FA Cup. I only remembered this again last night (though as write this I'm thinking I may have mentioned it here before), jolted by the fact that M's cousin has a birthday party taking place on the Saturday of the Championship playoff final (poor thing, she's very concerned that everyone will be on London on her big day). And I hadn't realised that Mark Herman was the director until I imdb'd the title. It was, I've since read, Herman's thesis short when he was a student at the National Film and Television School and won an Oscar for best student film. I'm in it for around 0.025 seconds, walking out the back of the south stand at Boothferry Park. It was on BBC2 way back when. I think I'm right to assume that some of the 36,000 Hull City ticket allocation for the final has been put aside for those of us that endured all the hanging about between takes. Or maybe I'll just have to make do with the kudos of making a fleeting appearance in an Oscar winner and the memory of stale sausage rolls eaten in a shoddy catering caravan.

Winning city...

Well done Hull City. To Wembley for the first time ever in a history spanning 104 years with a resounding 4-1 victory (6-1 on aggregate. Blimey!) over Watford. My dad followed the Tigers in excess of 50 years and endured six decades of frustrating on-field antics, getting through the hard times by reminiscing about the glory days of Bunker's Hill, the nigh-sexual experience of watching Raich Carter fly down the wing and the almost success of the Waggy-Chillo days (1970-71, cor, that was a year. Having sat in front of the South Stand on the small boundary fence that ran around Boothferry Park during that season, those games are probably amongst my earliest memories. It all went wrong. With one eye on spending my leisure time down the Boulevard I remember ripping a team photo in half in a childish huff). By the dawn of the new era at the KC Stadium, dad was too ill to haul himself along to watch the start of the renaissance. He'd have enjoyed tonight's glorious shenanigans, which, if a city's fortunes are linked in any way to that of its sports club's, could well be the moment when Hull and its people moved from alsorans to fully-fledged winners. Indeed, when the goals started pouring in I felt incredibly proud on his behalf. And all this coming from a rugby fan (we are tantalisingly close to having three, yes three, professional top flight sports clubs). Be nice to go to Wembley to watch the Tigers roar but the day - and indeed tonight - is for the fans of the Tigers who have been there throughout the dark days. You deserve it, you bloody magnificent winners. Altogether now...we are Hull, we are Hull, we are Hull...

Winners...

Watched the first half of Hull City's victory over Barnsley in Blackies club, in Brough. Lots of oohs and aaahs and applause as the game unfolded on the big screen. And lots of comments about the tufty unkempt turf over at Oakwell Road. I listened to the second half on the radio in the car - the Tigers coming away 1-3 winners and shifting up to second place in The Championship. Father would have been overjoyed, having suffered a lot of barren, frustrating years as he slavishly followed a club that rarely repaid his faith. Three games to go. Lots of twitchy bum moments for fans between now and the end of the season, I should think. The prefix to the game was a meeting about the new play. I felt like a writer again for a short while, as I feverishly spluttered out my barely-formed plot, ably supported by several pages of notes. Anyway, a positive chat that made me feel good. Keep the whole of 2009 free for now - if all goes according to plan the play will be performed at some point next year.

Match of the day...

Despite being raised on a diet of Saturday afternoons sitting on the boundary fence at Boothferry Park back in Hull City's glorious Waggy and Chillo era, when I imagined that Ian McKechnie was Superman and Frank Banks could do no wrong, I'm not really a football man (too many PE lessons picked to play in goal took their toll). Still, glory seeker that I am I went to watch the Tigers' ongoing charge towards the Championship playoffs yesterday, witnessing a rather tame and never really in doubt 2-0 derby victory over relegation-threatened Scunthorpe. For a derby with a fair bit at stake for both clubs it was a rather boring, incident-free experience with barely a shin kicked in anger and the crowd, briefed by manager Phil Brown to create a hostile environment for the visitors, were much nicer than I remember footie crowds being in the past. Be nice if City can hang in there for the rest of the season.

Pitch invasion...

If Hull City are after a new talisman as they head into the business end of the season, they need look no further than me. Just a couple of hours before tonight's victory over Burnley, I was reprimanded for walking on the rather nicely coiffured pitch (I was there for a photocall). As I headed diagonally across one corner of the field, there was a loud shout from the far side of the pitch. "Get off!" By which point, my journey forwards was equidistant to my journey back. So I just kept walking. An extremely popular move with the ground staff that I like to think helped the victory. Of course, if it had been a Hull FC game I wouldn't have dreamed of walking on the pitch.