“The Clarets are going up!” - Part One - A day at Wembley.

After a few days of reflection, our Wembley triumph is finally sinking in. The shock is now beginning to subside and the realisation is now that we will be playing a full season amongst the top flight of English football.

Since Monday, the temptation to attach the words “Premier League” to anything Burnley related has been too hard to resist.

It started as I returned home in the early hours of Tuesday morning and drove past Premier League football ground Turf Moor. Since then it’s become such an addiction that it doesn’t even matter whether the object has any connection to the club, as I now, for example, have a Premier League toaster and do my business in a Premier League toilet. And I don’t mean Ewood Park.

As well as the obvious excitement of playing against Manchester United, Liverpool, Chelsea and Arsenal, we all know that the fixtures against Blackburn Rovers will be the first we all look for when the fixtures are released in June. I can't wait.

Until that day in just under a month’s time, each and every second will be spent reliving moments from our triumph at Wembley.

The day itself began early, as the alarm buzzed at half past four on Monday morning there was no attempt to hit the snooze button. Up within seconds and dressed in Claret and Blue within minutes, I was ready to make the trip of a lifetime.

As the Claret convoy of coaches pulled away from Championship Turf Moor for the last time its incumbents fell silent as we all sat still and once again dared to dream.

It seemed every car that flew by that morning had Claret and Blue flags and scarves hanging from their roofs and windows, while a quick stop at the services on the M6 toll was more like visiting a Burnley Football Club refugee camp.

As the Wembley arches came into view nerves began to jangle. I felt sick as the coach slowly drew into the car park, the giant curves now towered over us as I suddenly began to realise how gut wrenching it’d be to head back north without promotion.

The approach to kick off was spent soaking up the atmosphere on the steps outside Wembley as we drank, sang and enjoyed the sunshine.

Then the time came. The immense pride of seeing us line up on the Wembley turf was followed by ninety minutes of pure joy and ecstasy. Once again the way we defended was perfect as we sailed through the entire playoffs without conceding a single goal.

Wade Elliot’s goal was one good enough to grace any game. His instant shot into the top-left corner from 25 yards was passed straight into the net at pace leaving Paddy Kenny with no chance.

Like Steven Thompson and Martin Paterson’s goals in the previous game against Reading, the moment Wade's wonder strike hit the back of the net will never be etched from the memory.

Neither will the scenes at the final whistle as the Clarets returned to the top flight for the first time in thirty three years.

Tears rolled down my face as I hugged my family around me. With the brief moment I then had to myself I tried to come to terms with what had just happened. I couldn’t. This was too good to be true.

Through my now red eyes the trophy was lifted by Steven Caldwell to the chorus of thirty six thousand Claret’s in full voice.

It was a moment never to be surpassed.

We had done it, Owen Coyle had done the unthinkable and guided us to the promised land.

The chant as we bounced out of Wembley was “Burnley are back”

Apologies, Premier League Burnley are back.