Champions of Europe - we know what we are!

Fiorentina 1 West Ham 2  (Europa Conference League Final)

It's off to the final via a flight to Munich on Monday and then a five-hour train journey to Prague on Tuesday. Matt and Lisa, there without tickets sadly, report that in the Old Town Square the famous astronomical chiming clock is being regaled with chants of "You've only got one song!" By some miracle my pal DC has found a contact at Uefa and come up with a pair in the posh seats for which we are both truly thankful.

Matt and Lisa have of course already been to the most important game of the week in Prague, a 0-0 relegation play-off second-leg between Pardubice and Viagem Pribram (formerly Dukla Prague, whose away kit, as immortalised in the Half-Man Half-Biscuit song, is sometimes worn by Matt to Hammers' matches).

On the day of the final we have a hectic sightseeing schedule. It starts off with meeting Matt and Lisa at the Castle (an area of historic buildings immortalised by Kafka and not a pub), where we meet a friendly Fiorentina fan who also likes the Hammers and has a "fortune's always hiding" tattoo. We then walk to the famous Charles Bridge (where one statue seems to have a supplicant West Ham fan praying behind bars), move on through the Old Town Square which is full of West Ham geezers drinking beer in the sunshine, and on to lunch at Pizza Nuova with Danny, Issy, Tony and Phil, followed by a wander around the art deco splendour of the Municipal House restaurant. 

This is followed by picking up the tickets from the hotel and a trip to the Cathedral Church of Saints Cyril and Methodius, to see the museum in memory of the seven commandos who died in the crypt after assassinating Reinard Heydrich the author of the Final Solution and heroically fighting off their Nazi occupiers in 1942. Well, that puts football in perspective. We don't have time to fit in the Kafka Museum as frankly supporting West Ham is Kafkaesque enough.

At the Eden Arena we find ourselves enjoying corporate hospitality as DC spots James Corden and our pal Big Joe, who is going to Australia the next day, as you do. The pre-match entertainment would certainly satisfy my fellow-season ticker holder Nigel as it's a load of middle-aged blokes playing air guitar to AC/DC, Nirvana and other guitar giants.

It's a small stadium with a cracking atmosphere as the West Ham fans sing "West Ham are Massive!" It's disappointing to see some empty empty in the Fiorentina end, though the Viola fans do make a splendid racket with their drum and chants. This final means something to both sets of fans. Moyes has made two big calls, bringing in Emerson at left back in place of Aaron Cresswell and preferring Czech mate Vladimir 'Robo Cop' Coufal to Thilo Kehrer at right back.

From the kick-off it's evident that the Fiorentina players will go down for minutes at the slightest touch, encouraged by the animated touchline antics of manager Italiano, while Antonio is getting a lot of heavy treatment from the defenders. Some idiots in the corner start to throw plastic glasses at Fiorentina players and Biraghi is struck by a thrown vape that draws blood. The West Ham players appeal to their own fans and an announcement goes up to stop throwing objects. Long-term bans are deserved for the culprits.

Rice has had a shot just wide, but it's a nervous start by the Hammers with Declan man marked, Amrabat dominating midfield and Fiorentina hustling for every ball. This is attritional stuff and no-one has time on the ball. Still, finals are seldom great games and the thought occurs that when the players tire someone like Paqueta might get to show a bit of class. Emerson makes some decent overlaps but the first half is poor, and at the end there's a let off when Kouame heads against the post and Jovic nets from an offside position. Luckily VAR intervenes.

Zouma has to depart with injury and on comes Kehrer, who performs well. West Ham get the break needed in the 62nd minute as Bowen chases a throw-in and the ball hits Biraghi's hand. The referee is surrounded by Fiorentina players as he goes to the monitor, but gives the penalty. Benrahma shows great coolness after a long delay to send the the keeper the wrong way and the bank of West Ham fans in front of him explodes with joy. Said goes to stand on the hoarding, arms aloft. Could this be it at last?

But the Irons' lead only lasts five minutes. Emerson loses a headed duel and the ball falls to Bonaventura, who reacts sharply to shoot past Areola. At this point I'm convinced we'll lose, as La Viola look a decent footballing side and soon Mandragora is putting a great chance just wide from the edge of the area.

JARROD BOWEN'S ON FIRE

But this Moyes side has resilience and team spirit. A long ball sees a towering header from Soucek tipped past the post by Terraciano. The game looks to be heading towards extra time until the 89th minute. A lose ball in midfield falls to Lucas Paqueta, who pays a brilliant instant through ball to Jarrod Bowen. There's an agonising pause before Jarrod hits it just over the keeper's leg and into the corner as the West Ham end explodes. 

David Moyes is channelling David Pleat with a dash and jig on to the pitch. The subs are on the grass too as Jarrod rushes into the corner with a knee-slide. The two Italian fans next to us walk out in disgust, not knowing that West Ham are quite capable of blowing a lead. There's a VAR check but Bowen is definitely onside. 

"West Ham are Massive!" echoes around the stadium, but it's a tremendously nervous eight minutes of added time. And it was only meant to be five minutes. Ogbonna comes on for Antonio to try and bolster the defence. Fiorentina pump balls into the box. Fornals makes a couple of panicky clearances. Their keeper is coming up. Areola comes out for a final cross, misses, but it's a goal kick as the ball drifts out. And then comes the whistle after 98 minutes. Blimey. 

Forty three years of hurt is over. David Moyes is on the pitch as an army of subs and staff race for the far corner of the stadium. No-one can quite believe it. It's not been a great game, we haven't played well, but somehow we've done it. 

What a moment for the club and 60-year-old Moyesy. He's been unfairly derided all his career for not winning anything apart from the League One title with Preston, though he did get Everton into the Champions League for one season and reach an FA Cup Final with the Blues a well as regular top six finishes. At Brighton the Irons fans said he didn't know what he was doing. But now he's a trophy machine and is pumping his fists into the night air. 

In these days of corporate football the big clubs seem to regard winning trophies as routine. But the outpouring of emotion here is a refreshing antidote and the celebrations last forever. Declan Rice is being carried on the shoulders of Ogbonna and celebrating like a man who surely can't join a small club from Highbury. Mark Noble is on the pitch in tears, the backroom staff are all there as are James Collins, Carlton and Joe Cole. David Moyes is there with his 87-year-old dad. "Champions of Europe, we know what we are!" sings a heaving mass of claret and blue. 

Viborg! Silkeborg! Bjorn Borg! FCSB! Anderlecht! Larnaca! Gent! AZ Alkmaar! Fiorentina! We gave your boys one hell of a beating! 

No one under fifty in the crowd has ever seen West Ham win a major trophy. A heartfelt "One more year, one more year, Declan Rice!" goes up. Said Benrahma and Pablo Fornals get their own chants. "Jarrod Bowen is on fire!" comes across very clearly as the players and fans pump their arms in unison, though the lyrics might not be suitable for primetime BT Sport viewing. Declan Rice dances with his kid nephew Jackson.

And on the pitch is an arch with "West Ham" and "Winners" on it, not two words that are commonly associated together. David Moyes comes up first to receive his medal, getting a hug from David Sullivan in his claret blazer. Then it's the players' turn to walk past the trophy and kiss it. Finally Declan Rice steps up to hold the trophy and rank with Moore and Bonds in West Ham history. He moves to the front of the team huddle and lifts the trophy to a hail of ticker tape and a massive roar. The PA plays We are The Champions.Then it's Bubbles and a dash to the fans. 

A lot of solid professionals are finally getting rewarded with medals, like long-standing servants Angelo Ogbonna and Michail Antonio, who has carried our attack for four seasons, plus non-playing subs like Aaron Cresswell, who must have been gutted to be left out, and Manuel Lanzini.

Amid the mayhem its the little moments that linger; Vladimir Coufal and Tomas Soucek clad in Czech flags and bringing on their kids, Moyes putting his winners' medal round his dad's neck and Michail Antonio sitting alone in the victory arch just trying to take it all in.

It's an emotional moment for DC in the stand too. He spots a tall man and asks, "Oi, Big Boy what's your name!" It turns out his name is Ludek Miklosko. He obligingly poses for selfies before presumably nipping over to nearby Moscow for a late-night lager. 

On the mini-bus back we meet another former Hammer, Bobby Barnes. He and Tony Cottee have been out in the square earlier in the day mingling with the Hammers fans. Barnes lives in Essex and is now with Uefa's ethics committee (isn't that where most of our fans live?)  and tells me how much the West Ham family still means to him. 

It gets even better back at DC's hotel as we're joined by Matt and Lisa from the fanzone and Fanis, the ecstatic number one Hammers fan from Athens, who has supported the Irons ever since his dad once worked on the docks in London. When I tell him that I saw West Ham win the FA Cup in 1975 and 1980 he says it is like touching history, which makes me feel like the Acropolis of East London.

DC goes up to another Hammers legend, David James, who is there as a technical observer and for some reason is carrying an Action Man figure. He proves to be a really nice, articulate fella. He tells is that the football romantic in him hopes Declan Rice stays, as the highlight of his own career was doing something that had never been done before, winning the FA Cup at Portsmouth.

The only PL teams that have won trophies this season are Man City, Man United and West Ham. Over a beer or two we all discuss what this victory means to the Hammers and decide that although it's massive in terms of attracting players to a club that has won a trophy and is now in the Europa League. At half past two or so it's time for bed as DC and myself have to catch a train to Munich at 9.40am. As I walk down the street to my room disembodied cries of "Irons!" echo from the windows above. What a night. It's still hard to take in but we know what we are. Champions of Europe. 

PLAYER RATINGS: Areola 6; Coufal 7, Zouma 6 (Kehrer 7), Aguerd 7, Emerson 7; Soucek 7, Rice 7, Paqueta 8, Benrahma 7 (Fornals 5); Bowen 9, Antonio 7 (Ogbonna n/a).