Court jester turns to Wise sage

Ferguson will not under-estimate him, since when has a manager ever seemed to embody a club's pugnacious attitude so perfectly? Never mind the end of an Arsenal treble; how about the start of a Bermondsey quadruple - the Cup, play-off promotion, Europe - and momentary popularity? Heck, it has taken Wise just six months to conjure up something akin to a footballing miracle.

Now, beating United would be the biggest one of all. The bookies already have this down as the most one-sided Cup final of the lot with United already just about unbackable at 1-12, odds which don't seem too unreasonable when you think of, say, Danny Dichio versus Ruud van Nistelrooy and then reflect how Millwall's subduing of Sunderland in the Manchester rain was a case of 'never mind the quality, just feel the passion'. Yet these are Wise's kind of odds.

The man who is a game away from becoming the first to win the Cup with three different clubs, after his fabled triumph with Wimbledon and the two with Chelsea, was asked if victory would be a greater surprise than when his Crazy Gang Dons did for Liverpool in 1988.

"Of course it would. United are one of the ultimate clubs. We are definitely underdogs for this one, chaps. Jeeesus, we are underdogs," he smiled. "We'll have a go, though. We won't lie down." With Wise, 37 going on 21, you can still guarantee nothing less. He seems to have the knack of squeezing much out of journeymen players and his own performance yesterday stood as a symbol of these 100 per centers.

First, having lost two key men - Paul Ifill, whose run and shot had set up the splendid Tim Cahill's handsomely struck 26th-minute winner, and captain Kevin Muscat - before half-time, Wise's relatively cool head in reorganising the side amid a good old-fashioned Cup maelstrom proved critical.

Then, having been brave enough to quickly substitute full-back Robbie Ryan, who was beginning to get routed down his left flank during Sunderland's early second half resurgence, Wise himself later had no option but to keep hobbling around for the last 20 minutes after getting gashed across the knee by a clumsy challenge from Paul Thirlwell.

It seemed he could barely run yet he kept popping up to make a clearance here, a pressure-relieving pass there or, as he put it himself, just doing his best to "get in the way" of Sunderland's late, desperate charge. When McAteer got sent off in the dying minutes for his second foolish foul, Wise could have rubbed it in. He didn't; his words of genuine sympathy to a departing foe demonstrated his other face.

In the second minute of injury time, his last act was to shepherd the ball down to the opposition corner flag and take a theatrical tumble under pressure. He won the free-kick as his marker, George McCartney, could only rage impotently. It summed up just how he and Millwall had seemed just that bit too streetwise for Mick McCarthy's men all afternoon.

The explosion of joy from the Lions' fans at the final whistle put the seal on a day which would have restored the faith of even those who have dismissed the Cup as a faded treasure. Forget United-Arsenal; this is where the greatest glory of the competition still lies, with two teams and two sets of supporters for whom victory meant the world, not just the prospect of yet another umpteenth final. The game was rip-roaring; the occasion was even better, unbeatable.

And at the end of it all we had one extraordinary fairytale for fans whose name has been for too long associated with more nightmarish stuff. "They've be impeccable ever since I've been here," said Wise, paying a generous tribute.

What Millwall are doing feels not just a reinvention of an image but also an offer of inspiration to other smaller clubs. Think of it; in recent years, they've been maligned, plagued by hooligan problems, been in administration and faced oblivion. Yet their fans were last night laughing on the trains about going to Cardiff . . . and then to Barcelona. Then how about Milan?

"No, never in a million years would I have believed all this could happen," said Wise. Anything seems possible now. Wait until a nation now starts finding their tale romantic and wills them on to beat United.

Cue the chorus: "We are Millwall, everyone likes us . . ."