THE only thing which evaporated faster than Swindon Town’s hopes of promotion was the rate at which its supporters deserted Wembley yesterday evening.

It had been a day of hope, promise and tentative expectation among the Town fans, most of whom were in the capital to soak up the atmosphere more than five hours before kick-off.

The trains ran (where possible), the Tube ticked over and the motorway sucked every vehicle into the capital right on time, but it was the players who failed to turn up.

The £5 pints in plastic cups, the £8 burgers, the rain: none of it dampened the spirits of the Town faithful, who were focussed on singing over the televised Premier League football and their day under the arch.

Much of the talk pre-match had been about edging a close match, but there was unfaltering optimism. The allure of Wembley and the promise of Championship football had them all under a spell.

More seasoned sports journalists would have taken it in their stride, but a modest crowd of around 48,000 did more than take my breath away at kick-off.

Town were heartily clapped on to the field for their warm-up routine, which slowly built and built, until the pyrotechnics let the stadium know it was showtime.

As they had all day, with their singing in the streets and tales of Town success in years gone by, the supporters played their part and brought Jay Collett’s highly-anticipated mosaic to fruition.

‘STFC’ was spelled out by 8,000 fans on a sea of red to give the players that final push they needed, that final reminder an entire town was behind them, both here and 64 miles away in front of their television sets.

But the mosaic, the hope, the dreams soon faded.

Within 15 minutes Town were 2-0 down and Preston’s travelling support were literally bouncing on their seats. The sea of red was silenced.

There were pockets of noise, but the Lancashire support was relentless, fuelled by the colossal display being played out by sharpshooter Jermaine Beckford.

By half-time the press box discussions turned to what instructions Mark Cooper would be issuing to his troops in the dressing room, if any.

Istanbul and Liverpool’s Champions League victory was mentioned, if I am honest.

There was little sign of a change in the tide in the second half and with Beckford’s hat-trick, there was talk of when the Town supporters would start to file out, ending this nightmare in West London and beating the traffic home in time for Match of the Day.

Those supporters on Twitter compared it to boys against men, but were defiant in seeing it out to the bitter end, determined not to beat their coach drivers back to their seats.

With five minutes to go, they couldn’t hold off anymore, and the sea of red began to gush out of the exits, leaving behind nothing but despair and a discarded mosaic in their wake.