The road to Wembley starts here

The build up to our play off final destiny is finally reaching its climax.

This week has been long and arduous. What began with pure excitement and expectation following the trip to Reading has slowly become diluted by firstly nerves and then fear.

For the last few mornings I have woke with a sort of nervous paralysis that has made me physically unable to move until all possible eventualities have vigorously run through my mind.

The dull ache that now sits in my stomach is perhaps only comparable to the feeling a swift boot to the testicles brings.

This is pressure and I’m only going to be watching from Block 126, row 39, seat 87.

As I sit here now words that have flowed all season are suddenly hard to come by. I feel reluctant to write anything that may tempt fate.

All I can say is that I hope the Burnley squad have returned from their Portuguese training camp as men of war ready for a classic battle of the roses.

There is no doubt Sheffield United want this as much as us. They’ve sampled the sweet tasting goods the Premier League has to offer and will be spurred on further by the sour taste of Carlos Tevez’s goal scoring boots.

They will not be softened by West Ham’s oversized charity cheque of recompense and now we’ve reached this stage, our Claret and Blue kit also synonymous with the Hammers will become a goading red rag waving right in front of the noses of Blackwell’s raging bulls.

It’s not that I fear the Blades as a footballing side or think we’ll lose. Like I’ve said before I never go into a game thinking we’ll get beat anymore. It’s just the cruel nature of the “what ifs” that creep inside your mind; the bad penalty decision, the dodgy offside, the unjust sending off, all which if given against us may see us fail to recover.

I think all of the Wembley related Claret and Blue merchandise, from official kits to knock off t shirts, flags and scarves to jester hats, the hastily written newspaper pullouts and pristine match day programmes, it makes me sick to imagine them all becoming a commemorative token of an unsuccessful playoff bid.

There is no doubt that in the ten days since we conquered at the Madejeski I have let my nervous excitement manifest into irrational thoughts and fear. I guess you may have done the same. It’s hard not to go through all the emotional ups and downs when you have so long to wait and only one thing to think about.

Despite all the crazy connotations and tricks of the mind I still believe that come Monday tea time we will be in the Premier League.

As the hands of the clock painstakingly tick towards Monday’s 3pm kick off time, all we can do is let the faith carry us to victory.

Tonight is the night the first few of the 36,000 Clarets will begin their pilgrimage to Wembley.

Over the bank holiday weekend fans from all corners of the globe will gather under the arches to unite in a Claret and Blue roar when the teams stroll out onto the pitch at ten to three in little over 72 hours time.

The streets of our small East Lancashire town will be vacant as the world’s eye turns to the richest match in football.

The players huddle before kick off will produce an intensity unlike anything you may ever feel again.

Take a second savour the moment and then believe, because if you do that potentially unsurpassable feeling will easily be beaten on the other side of the referee’s whistle.

The promised land awaits, let’s just hope the Wembley arches can transform into a Claret and Blue rainbow, complete with a Premier League pot of gold at the end of it.

Keep the faith.

Burnley will be back.