The Lads went to Kenny, as apparently it's known, and simply weren't allowed to do what we do best, losing 2-0 and thus missing out on a trip to Wembley for the final.
On the night, with two unchanged sides, Luton did what they're best at while not allowing us to do what we're best at. A carbon copy (almost) of their goal on Saturday, from their first corner about the same time into the game, was followed by a second as we again failed to clear at the end of the first period.
We threatened to shoot but only managed to hit the roof most times, and those that were on target were comfortable for their keeper. A game too far to end a season that's been, in the main, very enjoyable with some of the sparkliest football we've produced in years, some spectacular goals, and some spirited togetherness - but another, crucial, away win was a bridge too far....as was the draw that would have sufficed, but never really looked a possibility.
Despite repeating to myself constantly since Saturday "these playoffs are a bonus, a free hit, they don't matter" the possibility that we might, just might, repeat last year's heroics lay, ever- present, just beneath the surface. I even treated myself to a Semi Final Special haircut this morning, courtesy of Judy's Backyard Salon, and the words "oops, I've left the guard off" were only uttered once. The bus journey was interrupted by a stream of good luck messages from fans of other clubs (including the Boro), and straightforward compared to that necessary for some - back from Benidorm on the morning of the match? Well played, Gilly.
While we're on, here's a few more reasons to go for promotion... Southampton, Swansea, Cardiff, Ipswich, Plymouth.... plenty of discussion on that subject on the bus, and the nervous excitement came more and more to the fore the closer we got to Luton.
As for the ground - well, the staff were brilliant in a working environment that would be declared unsafe in any other industry, and we had some great craic with them over our pre-match libations. It was unallocated seating which can be a recipe for upset, but not tonight, cos we're sensible sorts. We turned out in our pale blue kit in an attempt to invoke our inner Man City - but it didn't work.
Patterson
Hume O'Nien Gooch
Ekwah Neil
Roberts Diallo Pritchard Clarke
Gelhardt
..and a bench of Bass, Lihadji, Alese, Anderson, Ba, Michut, and Huggins.
We faced away from our fans and Luton set things away - immediately showing how it was going to be by hitting it long and high. I'm not going to moan about that - if it was what we're good at I'd expect us to do it. However, for whatever reason, it worked far better than it did on Saturday. We did have the first real chance when Clarke was upended (no change there) but Pritch put the free kick well wide. The opening period was virtually identical, with a goal after a similar amount of time, but, unlike Saturday, we never really recovered from it and the pattern of play remained unchanged. We just couldn't get the ball down for any meaningful amount of time, although the TV watchers were quick to point out a "definite handball" in their box a few minutes after the opening goal. Apparently the ref thought their man couldn't help it because he was falling over - since when does that matter?
Perhaps the ref, allegedly a Prem official, was a bit stumped that he didn't have VAR to make his decisions for him. Come to think of it, I don't think this ground has enough three pin (square) sockets for VAR to be an option.
Anyway, we scampered about, showing stuttering, brief glimpses of the tippy-tappy, fast flowing side we know we can be, but could only muster a misshit shot from Joff at the end of it. Amad was crowded out of the areas he likes to work in, making Roberts way less effective than of late. Luton might have been sporting fewer headbands, but they were just as big and far better at being big - although it has to be said that some of the things those big lads fell over because of wouldn't have disturbed Jon Stead. The yellow for Luke was a bit harsh, as their bloke was clearly pulling his shirt, but the foul was given by the linesman a few yards away and the yellow by the ref thirty yards distant. Poor officiating in my view.
We were under pressure every time they plonked one into our box, and we had to endure more hairy moments than a hairdresser's floor. Luke had to boot one out of sight immediately after Hume had kicked it off off the line, then Patto did well to push an effort away. A header went beyond his reach but wide as we prayed, in vain, for the ball to nick off down the other end. As halftime approached we hoped for a bit of Amad magic, but what we got was a straightforward cross and firm header - at the wrong end. The two added minutes were more of the same, but we broke out of defence and Gooch powered forward to set up Amad, only, for once, the magic to desert him and the shot flew wide. Such had been the pressure on our back line, I expect our dressing room during the interval probably resembled a scene from Rocky.
We just hadn't been at the races, and needed to change something to find a place at them.
No changes for the second half, and it was nearly the end almost immediately when Luke played a rotten one to Patto, who in turn scuffed it to Morris - but he showed all the composure of an angry drunk and blasted it off target. Lucky, lucky, lucky, Lads.
While we upped things a bit (or perhaps it just looked that way because we were attacking the closer goal), we constantly ran into a determined, and large, Luton back line. We had a couple of shots that went wide or high, or were gathered by the keeper - but at least we were getting the efforts in, unlike the first half
Twelve minutes into the half, Alese replaced Pritch and went to left back with Gooch going right as we reverted to a more standard back four. However, it was Roberts who produced some sterling defensive work after Alese bedded a Hume attack by conceding a corner. Twice he got it away from near the line as we were forced to deal with more set pieces. Gooch continued to try and get forward, which meant that the Amad/ Roberts partnership looked like being more productive - but there were so many Luton legs in the way that Roberts had to skip past a dozen of them before dragging a shot wide. No room to play, so we gave up on Joff, replacing him with Michut in 64 in an attempt to find some killer passes into the Luton box.
A handball, when their man clearly tipped it up in the air 39 yards from his goal was deemed OK - do they not count when the man is lying down, just like the first half non penalty? I give up, I really do.
Huggins and Ba replaced Neil and Gooch with about quarter of an hour to go, but every break in play was taken as an excuse to trot over to the bench for a drink. There were plenty of opportunities for this as their players started the "game management" bollocks - feigning injury, kicking the ball away, that sort of thing. We did win some corners on our right, which gave the home support in the nearest greenhouse to indulge in some pretty unsavoury behaviour towards Amad.
It was clear that we'd need something spectacular to get the goal to draw us level, but Luton denied us the space to produce it. Roberts and Amad tried but failed several times to work a shot coming in from the right, and Clarke was running into brick walls on the other side.
Four added minutes were announced, which seemed a bit mean, we won a corner which Patto galloped up for, but they cleared and broke forward - but messed up the chance for the absolute killer.
Being only a couple of rows from the front, I couldn't see the closing stages. The announcer (not the hyped up lunatic who'd been doing the teams, but the lass who did the legal stuff) announced several times that going on the pitch after the game was wrong and everybody should stay in their seats. So the stewards, with a good number of new ones appearing, climbed onto the edge of the pitch in front of us - and the pitch vanished. We were losing 2-0. Why would we want to run onto the pitch? Luton were off to Wembley - why wouldn't they want to celebrate? Get in front of their fans.
Of course, when the whistle went, home fans from everywhere else were straight onto the field. A few applauded our fans (appreciated, thanks), the majority danced about in celebration, but quite a few came and gave us abuse - with no sign of any meaningful intervention by the stewards. The polis, who'd remained in their correct place and facing us, were told in no uncertain terms that the match commander needed to have a serious word with whoever "manages" the stewards, and they did tell us that looking into the unsavoury behaviour towards Amad would "be escalated." Perhaps not selling tickets in the greenhouse nearest the way fans to people who were clearly off their heads would help.
Anyway, enough moaning. Luton deserved to win on the night and over two legs. I'm now torn between wanting them to get tonked in the final, meaning we'd have to return to their fetid ditch of a stadium, or hope they win so we can pass them next May.
We learn, we move on, we get our injured players back, we hope Man U can manage without Amad, and we come back stronger next season.
Man of the Match? To be honest, nobody was allowed to reach the level of performance we've become used to - well done Luton for that - but at least Roberts gave us some nearly moments - more than anyone else- late on. He can have it, although I doubt he's that bothered.
See you next time.
