There are those who suggest the oft-revered magic of the FA Cup has been lost in modern football and to some extent, there may be some truth to that sentiment.

Memories of Ronnie Radford and Ricky Villa fade in the minds of those, dare I say, old enough to have witnessed them first-hand, while grainy highlights of such poignant moments are not quite stimulating enough to get excited about anymore.

In this modern-day era, matches are sliced up into context-free moments and consumed in a way where the importance of the game takes a back seat, as people with the word 'content' somewhere in their job title extract gifs and memes and leave a hollow, barely-remembered result to be scrawled in a book and stuffed in a library somewhere.

In a few years' time, possibly even days, few people will remember the way Kevin De Bruyne artfully took the ball around Heurelho Gomes to score the third goal of the match and the scoreline itself, despite the fact it was record-equalling, will be the issue of debates between neutrals in years to come, who had simply tuned in because it was more appetising than whatever was on ITV.

"Was it five they scored?" They'll ask quizzically.

"I'm sure it was six..." "Was it not seven?" "Who knows?" "Who cares?"

Furthermore, there are those will remember little more from the encounter than the rage of Pep Guardiola in the post-game press conference, as he was (rightly, in my opinion) pressed about the issue of whether or not he had accepted less-than-ethical payments from City's Emirati owners, who seem to be ploughing money into the club like a stoker on an old steam ship, furiously shovelling coal into the flames to prevent their vessel from becoming stagnant and marooned.

In fact, my colleagues in the press may do well to recall more from the occasion than a misguided Manchester City fan bursting into the media area to complain that he hadn't been able to read about his team enough in newspapers throughout the season, while they were actually there, in real life, scoring six goals behind his back.

And yet, despite all of this, it is a day I personally shall never forget and one that Watford fans will remember for the rest of their lives too.

Sure, there wasn't a "GERRARD!" moment like in 2006 or a shock from the head of a not-quite-so mercurial talent like Wigan’s Ben Watson had produced in 2013 before staggering, corpulent wealth stamped on any notion of competition and teams like Watford, West Ham and Wigan could give the likes of Manchester City and Liverpool a run for their money.

But there were flags and singing and theatre and pageantry and little “pinch-yourself” moments that let you know Watford had actually got to the final for the first time in 35 years, and that that in itself was a big enough deal.

After all, more than 700 teams had entered the competition - to be one of the final two remaining sides ought to be a source of immense pride and there was not a Hornets' fan in the yellow half of Wembley Stadium who would tell you otherwise. Even though their side would go on to be humbled, this would still be unequivocally their day to remember.

Whether it was Annie Mac niftily slipping Z-Cars into her set prior to kick off, Elton John's children stood arm-in-arm with Troy Deeney or Jose Holebas shouting at a linesman for not awarding him a throw-in, Watford were stamping their own idiosyncratic mark on the occasion and the fans were determined to enjoy it, irrespective of how their team performed.

On the pitch, the goals flew past Gomes from all angles - he rarely stood a semblance of a chance - as City's entourage of mega-stars made a mockery of the tournament's heritage of famous upsets, by perfectly demonstrating all that is harmful about the way money has influenced the game, while in the stands an opposite reaction occurred.

The City fans, who looked almost lethargic about the prospect of their side becoming the first ever team to complete a domestic treble, were treated to a hair-raising display from their opposition counter-parts, who stood in proud defiance, with flags and voices raised alike, as they rallied against the riches and showed what football is really about - the spirit of community and standing firm together with your team, regardless of their ability or fortune.

So, while some may argue the cup has lost its magic, I say to them, ask a Watford fan what their moment of the season was and I believe you'd be hard-pressed to find one who would not, in the blink of an eye, suggest that standing shoulder-to-shoulder with their fellow Hornets, in a swarm of yellow and black, singing for their team, their community, their people and their family was anything other than truly magical.