It will never be topped. The Julius Caeser hotel, O'Henry's in Kilburn the day before, and my mate Seamus getting booted up the arse by some Redneck for singing "so fucking easy" outside Wembley.
I went to every round, Sunderland and Arsenal on my own because I was convinced that we'd win it. I have the tickets saved for posterity in a framed picture along with a shot of three of us holding the cup at the end of season bash.
Talking about the possibility of attending the Europa League Final if we got there, one of the young 'uns was incredulous that I wasn't bothered if I missed it. But then they never experienced 1994.
