It was ill-conceived, it was badly-born and it has had development problems throughout: no wonder this season's FA Cup spawned such a monster of a final. Boring? Boring makes it sound interesting. To think that the BBC was panned for losing the broadcast rights and for replacing Cup Final Grandstand with My Fair Lady. "One-nil to the BBC," we say.
They must have been laughing like Smash Potato robots in the boardroom at the Beeb. The rest of us were crying into our £10 - is that all? - souvenir match programmes. We thought of better days, of better names. Of Stanley Matthews, of Jimmy Montgomery, of Ricky Villa and Norman Whiteside. Each one gave us a reason to cherish the FA Cup.
Then 1999 came along. Manchester United, the holders, decided not to bother defending it. Then the FA moved the third round to December. Then they cancelled replays. Then they let a "Lucky Loser" in. Then they played the semi-finals at Wembley. And then we were given one of the worst matches seen anywhere for a long time.
So now we have the hopefully short-lived memory of another botched David James catch, another slice of Gareth Southgate Wembley woe, and another Roberto Di Matteo cup final goal. His first had been a beauty, the dipping, 30-yard strike over Middlesbrough's Ben Roberts three years ago. It was the fastest goal ever in the cup final, 42 seconds. In dramatic terms, Saturday's effort could equal it only in the scale of relief it brought us. Di Matteo's 73rd-minute thump was the football equivalent of having a bad tooth removed. It spared us penalties - or to be precise, the half hour of excruciating, goalless extra-time that would have led to penalties. Maybe Southgate was getting his disappointment in early. He didn't fancy another missed one.
Southgate, like Alan Shearer before him, must be glad they are tearing the Twin Towers down. For the next three finals, to be held possibly at Cardiff's Millennium Stadium, Wembley can be pushed into a far corner of the penalty-taker's mind.
It is with the earnest optimism of the fool or the zealot that in that time it is to be hoped the FA Cup can rediscover the magic that made it magic in the first place. It is our game - remember that, all of you who are laughed at for following Finn Harps or Distillery with passion - not Sky's nor millionaire players' who receive testimonials, or who sell coveted tickets on the black market, and the FA Cup is, or was, special because supporters turned up in all sorts of weather to cheer on hopelessness. At least the hopelessness wasn't sponsored by Coca-Cola.
But that is where we are now. Dennis Wise probably thinks the 39 steps is the name of a book, but he was the last FA Cup captain to walk up them on Saturday. Wise clutched an infant nearly as small as him. We didn't need this exclusive sentimentality.
As Wise ascended, the tannoy informed us that this was the "AXA-sponsored FA Cup". It didn't say that AXA is a French insurance company or that insurance is the biggest scam going. When Wise picked up the cup, the ribbons were not blue and white, they were blue and white with AXA everywhere.
You get called a clown for holding this kind of view. Unrealistic, they say. Spurned as a romantic. Naive. Where would we be without sponsors, they say, without Sky?
Well, without £10 programmes, we suggest. Without Frank Leboeuf earning £30,000 a week - that's £1.5 million a year basic - to come fifth. Without the cheapest seat at Hillsborough costing £17. Without Newcastle United directors ejecting fans who are not rich enough. Without Martin Edwards worth £90 million or more. Without Pierre Van Hooijdonk and his ilk. And without Andy Gray.
Plus, are we not mistaken, was the FA Cup not special before all this? Was it not one of those increasingly few occasions when fragmented communities came together, if only for an afternoon? Did it not matter? In itself?
Because it doesn't any more, not unless you've failed to reach the Champions' League and have to qualify for Europe. Otherwise Marcel and the garcons might just hop on the next Eurostar.
But then this is what the big clubs wanted. Set aside the League Cup - sorry, Worthington Cup, and you must because the big boys don't care about it - and either Manchester United, Arsenal or Chelsea have won the last 10 major English trophies. Five FA Cups, five Premierships. You have to go back to 1995, to Everton and Blackburn Rovers, to find different names. It's the New Establishment carve-up.
Equality is a concept now. In fact, sorry for even mentioning it. Year on year it will get worse. Slowly the competition is being demolished.