Last night, we gathered in our thousands to watch our lads show us what it really means to fight ’til the end.

After 120 minutes of tense, cagey football, it all came down to one final, unbelievable moment. In the dying seconds, Dan Ballard rose above the crowd and powered home a header. Just like that, Sunderland are heading back to Wembley.

In all my years following this club, home and away, I have never experienced anything like it. The eruption in the stands was beyond anything I have ever seen. Screaming, crying, clinging to anyone within reach. A raw, shared outpouring of disbelief and joy. Just half an hour earlier, it had all felt so far away.

Walking up to the ground, the streets were lined with red smoke and hope. Fans stood shoulder to shoulder, chanting, believing. You could feel it in the air. The Roker Roar was alive on Wearside, echoing through every street and alley as we made our way to the turnstiles.

Strangely, I felt calm as I stepped into the stadium. A quiet sense of possibility, but also a flicker of acceptance that maybe this would not be our night. Friday was great, and that’s enough. Then, just as I was settling into that stillness, Dance of the Knights roared through the speakers and the night truly began.

Everything had been thought through. The tribute to Jimmy Montgomery. The towering Black Cat at the Roker End. The fire surrounding the pitch. Even the advertising boards had been shifted. Every detail pulled us in and reminded us that this is our home, and we are not done yet.

I try to stay neutral when it comes to our stadium announcer, but on a night like that, it is impossible. Rory Fallow was outstanding. From the moment the gates opened to the final whistle, he was with us every step of the way. Lifting us, leading us, urging us to give everything for the team.

On a personal note, I am proud beyond words to see him doing something he is not only brilliant at, but clearly loves. As a fan, my matchday is better because of him so thank you.

Then came the 90 minutes. Intense, scrappy and difficult to watch. Coventry were strong. They kept the ball well. In the 76th minute, they broke through. It felt like a punch in the stomach.

The rituals began. Prayers. Salt. Superstition. Anything to tip the balance. The thought of extra time, with our players already looking spent, made Friday night feel like it might be as good as it would get.

But Regis was not done.

As extra time ticked on, something shifted. The lads found a second wind. They pushed forward. They dared to believe. Le Bris brought on Leo Hjelde. Maybe he’s thinking of penalties, maybe Hjelde has a hidden talent.

And then, in the 122nd minute, it happened.

Enzo Le Fée stepped up to the corner flag. My dad and I looked at each other and said, as we always do, “We never score from corners.”

The ball flew in, hit the crossbar, bounced… and landed in the back of the net. Dan Ballard.

The stadium exploded. I think there was even a flare in the East Stand. I was standing on my seat, crying, hugging strangers. At one point I think I ended up a row in front. It is all a blur.

But I know this: we are going to Wembley. And it feels incredible.

That moment, 122nd minute, Enzo Le Fée corner, Dan Ballard header, will live forever.

A moment that belongs in Sunderland’s history. A moment worthy of the magic of the play offs.