Bromley book EFL place for first time after sinking Solihull Moors in shootout

It is a popular misbelief that there is a first time for everything. But there are, undoubtedly, first times for some things. And, come August, that will be the case for Bromley. After 132-years of under-the-radar existence, they will contest the English Football League.

Some things even happen more than once. The Bromley goalkeeper, Grant Smith, for example, has rounded off a season by exiting the National League before. Yet whereas 12 months back, Smith was falling down the relegation snake with Yeovil, a pair of penalty shootout saves – first from Tyrese Shade and then Josh Labadie – gave Bromley a firm foot up the promotion ladder.

And so, all that remained, with the 10th penalty, was for the captain, Byron Webster, to complete a personal triptych. Webster, twice previously promoted at Wembley in playoff finals, dispatched his strike. Suddenly all was well in Bromley’s world.

It was cruel on Solihull – when are spot-kicks ever not – who had played a vital role in whipping up a three-part drama more than worthy of the occasion. First, came an amuse bouche of an opening, sedate, a tad cagey, but not unwatchable; next a high-octane, chaotic middle act; then, finally, the tensest of conclusions.

Bromley twice led, the National League’s record-goal scorer Michael Cheek scoring either side of the half. Moors twice levelled, via Joe Sbarra and then the captain, Jamey Osborne.

Bromley are, at times, not overly pleasing on the eyes. Will manager Andy Woodman care? Not one jot. His precisely distilled blend of pragmatism; an ability to swerve defeat; and short, sharp, blow-your-opponents-apart bursts, has been refined over three years.

They crave control, which they just about gained early on here, without ever actually threatening much by way of critical intervention.

Then, slightly ahead of the scheduled interval, part two commenced. Until that point, the Moors manager, Andy Whing – 12 months ago employed at his friend’s sofa warehouse – paced his technical area twitchily. Arms folded. Arms back open. Sit down. Stand back up again.

View image in fullscreen Michael Cheek celebrates scoring Bromley’s second goal of the game from the penalty spot. Photograph: Nick Potts/PA

But when James Durkin – son of the former World Cup official Paul – deemed Cheek’s contact with the foot of the centre-half Alex Whitmore above board, Whing experienced a moment of complete clarity. Unsurprisingly, his remonstrations were to no avail. Cheek, as is to be expected, then finished calmly.

Woodman, a trademark cap plonked on his head, hands deep in pockets, had remained near frozen until then. He has been here before, winning the FA Trophy two years ago. He has also twice experienced post-season heartbreak.

But on Cheek’s strike rippling the net, Woodman joined the near 20,000 Ravens dancing delightedly.

At the break, Whing loitered waiting for Durkin. He remonstrated further before disappearing into the Moors dressing room brimming with fury and fire. Some of that, it seemed, osmotically transferred to his players who rapidly levelled via the worthiest of scorers.

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Sbarra had, owing to a heart defect picked up by a routine scan last March, not trained for six months. It was far from certain that he would ever play again. And yet here he found himself, at Wembley laying off for Tahvon Campbell. Smith kept the initial effort out, but Sbarra followed up, finished, and hurtled towards the small, yet dedicated, pocket of delirious Moors supporters.

Their goading of the “cockney boys” lasted 10 minutes. With no danger apparent, what should have been a simple back pass by Kyle Morrison was more blue than undercooked. A wild swing of Nick Hayes’s right leg wiped Cheek out. The resulting penalty was a formality.

Despite again trailing, Moors kept their chests puffed, and soon Osborne levelled. Inexplicably, Bromley allowed him to drift forward and strike from 20 yards unaccompanied. It proved costly.

As time ticked, the flow faded. Possession was traded, sometimes cheaply. Twice in extra time, the Bromley substitute Alex Kirk struck the woodwork. Eventually, their relentlessness – a word pinned above the exit to Bromley’s Hayes Lane dressing room – prevailed.

Now the hard work commences. Bromley must take up their artificial pitch for a start. Will they mind? It seems unlikely.

Finally, to those who sniff at Wembley hosting occasions such as these, save your sinuses. Full seats? Perhaps not. Full hearts? Most definitely.

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