A good game, a great day out and - most importantly - a historic result for the club. It's funny how time alters your perspective about a particular game. I remember back then it was the 'Worthless Cup' and the competition was widely derided by all concerned. Fergie had slated it and Wenger had fielded a bunch of total no-hopers in the quarter final, who we promptly trounced 4-0. However, now the League Cup is once again seen as a handy trophy to bag early doors - and only ever won by the Big Four (bar Boro a few years back) - that day's win has taken on much greater gravitas with the passage of time. At that time, we were in a relegation battle in the league, while Spurs were on a great run of form. In all honesty, I didn't rate our chances, and neither did many of the pundits. Drove up to Cardiff with my sister from London to meet my dad. Wasn't it absolutely chucking it down? Yes, it was, that's why they had the roof shut. The rain didn't dampen the party vibes among rival fans in the streets around the stadium and the closed roof seemed to bottle the atmosphere within the Millenium when we got inside. I was sat miles away from my family on my own. The stadium was so huge, I couldn't even find my dad and sister with a pair of binoculars. Game got underway and it was clear both sides were pretty evenly matched. Anyone remember why Tugay wasn't playing? I believe Flitty was suspended and I remember thinking it was a match too far for one Mark Hughes Esq in midfield !!!! Thankfully the old bruiser proved me wrong. Magic Matty Jansen scored the opener - how sad to realise now it was to prove the pinnacle of his doomed career. Spurs were full value for their equaliser and arguably edged the rest of the game, but it was King Cole who scored the vital winner with a very cute finish. I remember the late penalty appeal and even though I was sat about half a mile up in the Stevie Wonder seats (couldn't see sh*t!), I instinctively KNEW it was a cast-iron spotkick. We really owe Graham Poll a debt of gratitude for stuffing that one up. The final part of the game dragged on interminably and I recall a group of fans sat to my left chanting "15 minutes till we win the Cup," "12 minutes till we win the Cup" and so on. I was sure they were tempting fate and Spurs would score to take it into extra time. That wasn't to be the case thankfully and we held on to win. I remember Souey - who I still have huge affection for - looked incredibly proud to have guided Rovers to a trophy. His "This is a GREAT day for the little club" post-match comments still give me chills. On the way home there were horrendous traffic jams all the way back to London. All the Spurs fans looked thoroughly miserable - it was great!!!

I'm glad I'm not the only one who has such fond memories of this match. IMO it was the most thrilling rollercoaster of a Rovers game this decade. I felt like I had aged 10 years in 90 minutes by the end of it. In fact, it is the second most amazing football match I have witnessed live in my life .... second only to Real Madrid 2 Barcelona 2 at the Bernabeau Stadium. THAT'S how good it was. I remember meeting my dad at the train station near Loftus Road (was it a mid-weeker? I think so). It was the first away match he'd been to in London - and what a game to choose! From memory we were on a truly horrible run of form. I believe we had lost three matches on the spin and had been routed 4-0 by Liverpool at Anfield. I remember having that horrible feeling in my gut that if we lost that game to Fulham we would be relegated. It was as simple as that. We got off to a great start with a phenomenal raking pass by Tugay that Cole paggered into the net (I think it ended a particularly long goal drought for him). However, by half time it had all gone predictably t*ts up and I remember seriously contemplating another season in the Championship over my half-time brew. As the second half got underway I remember my dad saying, "Souey must have torn a new arsehole for this lot, look at Tugay go!" And it was true, the Turk was steaming into every challenge and chasing the ball down all across the park like a man possessed. I'd never seen him compete that aggressively before or since. The score was eventually tied at 3-3 and my fingernails were bitten raw, but a draw STILL wasn't good enough. We simply HAD to win. Cometh the hour, cometh the man, and it had to be Steadinho to score the winner. He thrappled the ball home with a wonderful half volley. I remember he came and stood right in front of us away fans, clenched his fists by his side and just screamed in pure ecstasy at the Rovers faithful. I'll always remember the look of pure euphoria on Stead's face - in that moment I came as close as I ever will to understanding just how unbelievably brilliant it must feel to score such a vital goal. The final 15 minutes or so seemed to last an agonising eternity, but we held out. There was an explosion of pent-up relief as the ref finally blew up. Adrenaline was buzzing around my body and I remember being unable to get to sleep until about 3am that night. Just writing about it now has got me pumped up!