“At a little before quarter to five on 5 May 1973, Ken Burns raised his left hand into the air, lifted his whistle to his lips and blew. Across Wearside, there was a scream of relief. At Wembley, Bob Stokoe got uncertainly to his feet, adjusted his trilby on his head and set off on an uneasy jog towards Jim Montgomery. On the terraces, fans who had been whistling desperately for the end for at least 10 minutes could at last celebrate. And amid it all, my dad always said, he felt a shaft of sadness as the realisation struck that football could never be this good again.” Guardian – Jonathan Wilson
