After their day in the sun, skint Pompey now face oblivion's icy embrace

Pompey's last waltz was drawing to a close in the tunnels beneath Wembley Stadium.

Kevin-Prince Boateng, the guy who choked when glory beckoned, slipped out through a side-door, a child in his arms.

Behind him Petr Cech, the Chelsea goalkeeper, talked about how he delayed his dive to the last second to scramble Boateng’s mind as he ran up to take his penalty.

Above him, a television screen was showing a You’ve Been Framed special.

As Boateng left, a sheep was chasing an old woman through a graveyard. A couple of old ladies fell off a camel, a car rolled off a cliff, a kid was dragged through a puddle upside down on a swing.

The Portsmouth players walked past. More images of people’s misfortunes flickered on the screen. Laughter filled the wide corridor.

David James, the Portsmouth keeper who had kept his team in the FA Cup Final with a series of brilliant saves, disappeared into the drug-testing room.

Like Boateng, he ducked the aftermath of defeat. He found a mazy escape route to the team bus and avoided the cameras and the notebooks. Peter Storrie, the face of Portsmouth’s descent into hell, walked through a couple of times, though. The guy’s got front. You’ve got to give him that.

He’s a consultant at Fratton Park now apparently. A consultant in what exactly no one seems to know. How to run up £120million of debt, maybe.

Andrew Andronikou, the Portsmouth administrator, lingered as well. Perhaps he was hoping someone might ask for his autograph again. Nobody did.

Like Storrie, he looked a little too pleased with himself for someone involved with a club that can see the floor of the canyon rushing up to meet it.

Saturday was Pompey’s last day in the sun for some time. Don’t kid yourself by thinking anything different.

One day Wembley and the ­television cameras. The next day a date with oblivion and its icy embrace.

Avram Grant has done a fantastic job in the short time he has been in charge but he won’t be there next season. Maybe that’s why the Pompey boss was smiling too when he walked past the dressing-rooms on his way to the bus.

While everything else at Portsmouth is sinking to the bottom, somehow Grant has managed to float to the surface, his reputation enhanced.

That smile won’t last long, though. He’s joining West Ham next week. Working for David Sullivan. Frying pan. Fire.

Grant lumbered over to where Florent Malouda was talking to some reporters. He clamped his hand on Malouda’s shoulder. Malouda ignored it. Grant pressed harder. After six months at Pompey, Malouda’s the closest thing to stardust Grant’s seen for some time.

A few of the other Portsmouth lads stopped to talk. Most of them said they loved the club but wouldn’t be here next season. Frederic Piquionne talked about “the problem” at Pompey as if the debt was the sin that had no name. Aruna Dindane was the same. He’s probably heading for Panathinaikos. Even Greece’s debt crisis isn’t as bad as Portsmouth’s, apparently.

Michael Brown was next out. Good lad, Brownie. Spent most of the match trying to get close enough to Frank Lampard to knock seven bells out of him.

When he couldn’t get Lampard, he got someone else. Anyone else. Daniel Sturridge only came on in the 90th minute and Brownie managed to boot him before full time, too. Sturridge was outraged, just like Ashley Cole, Michael Ballack, Didier Drogba and Lampard had been outraged before him.

Brown didn’t think it had been that kind of match. “It was a normal cup-tie game,” Brown said. “Nothing over-physical.”

Nothing over-physical? Trying telling that to Ballack. The German was lucky his leg wasn’t broken by an horrific first half tackle from the shy and retiring Mr Boateng.

It was typical of the Portsmouth FA Cup fairytale really. It was told by angels with dirty faces.

Now the fairytale’s over and Portsmouth await news of a buyer. With a bit of luck, the Premier League might actually decide to meet the bloke before they declare him a fit and proper person.

They didn’t bother to do that with the last one, the Saudi Arabian chap that no one’s quite sure ever actually existed.

You’ve Been Framed was still on the screen when Brownie took his leave. Someone congratulated him on the birth of his son and his new son’s name.

It’s Ritz. Something Portsmouth won’t be putting on for quite some time.