PLAY- OFF FINAL STEVIE

BIG MATCH VERDICT

STEVE BRUCE did not want to be at Wembley. No, the genial Geordie with the Midas touch wanted to be anywhere but north-west London yesterday.

In Bruce’s ideal world, Hull City would already have been promoted to the Premier League. They wouldn’t have needed t he play-offs.

And he would have been sitting on his self-confessed “fat a**e” in some Caribbean or Portuguese bolt- hole, mulling over his next trip to the fridge for his favourite “tin of lager”.

Instead all that has happened is that his celebrations have been delayed by about three weeks.

And boy, will that cool one taste good when the big fella opens the door, sees the light go on and gets to reach inside.

Estimates on the value of this Championship cup final range from £160million upwards. But the fact is that this is the bare minimum clubs can expect to receive.

If they can stay among the elite, the prize is so much bigger.

All it has done is ramp up the importance of these fixtures to a level that would send any manager’s blood pressure soaring. But the game is about the glory. There is romance without the finance.

The neutrals would have been hoping Sheffield Wednesday – and their magnificent support – found a way to join the ranks of Leicester City in ending 16 years of hurt.

It has been that long since the Owls of anguish were heard at Hillsborough and they dropped out of the big-time.

That road has been a lengthy one. And it is one that they will keep on travelling. In truth, they were markedly second-best.

If it had not been for a collapse in the latter stages of the campaign, Bruce might well have fulfilled his wish. But in the end this was billed as a game where Premier League experience was pitted against a team bristling with potential matchwinners.

Backed by his controversial owner, Bruce ( right) had banked on the knowhow of players such as Michael Dawson, Tom Huddlestone, Jake Livermore and Curtis Davies proving sufficient in the toughest league in the world.

They had to quell the threat from the likes of Fernando Forestieri, Gary Hooper and stifle the promptings of a born-again Barry Bannan.

As it turned out, the general value of that was to prove decisive. All over the pitch.

Hull just had too much. In defence, midfield and attack.

There might be those who look at Hull’s achievement and remain largely unimpressed by it.

But following that late fall from grace this season which cost the Tigers a shot at one of the automatic promotion slots, Bruce and his players had to re-group. And therein lies the genius. Don’t f orget, i t was t he silver-haired boss’s silver-tongue that persuaded the likes of Robert Snodgrass and the rest to take a chance on him in the unfamiliar footballing hot-bed of east Yorkshire.

Not only that, the club had to recover from the demotion 12 months ago but also from the disappointment of missing out during the assault course that makes up a 46-game season. The manager had to fund a shortfall in the budget. Of around £25m. And then instil in his players the drive and the determination to get back in amongst it.

But this is a man who was schooled by the best psychologist of t hem all, Sir Alex Ferguson. And he has graduated with honours. After all, this was the fourth time that he had found himself in this division.

And now it is the fourth time he has inched, clawed and scrapped his way out of it.

Perhaps now the likes of Bruce will get due recognition for being what he is. Despite our fascination with foreign coaches, he is very good at his job.

The only problem is, when he reaches into that coolbox in a week’s time, he may not be grabbing a tin of lager as much as a tiger’s tail.

The likes of Jose Mourinho, Pep Guardiola and Jurgen Klopp are waiting – and they are armed and dangerous.

But first, let us at least allow him that welcome drink.