But actually it’s the Hammers who hit back. With 64 on the clock, full-back Paul Konchesky’s misjudged cross from the left wing floats over a flailing Reina to land in the Reds’ goal.
Kopites in the stands and watching around the world go through the rituals as the next 25 minutes elapse: a prayer, crossed fingers, a shout at the television screen.
“Just score, Liverpool. Please just score.”
As the amount of added time to be played is announced inside the stadium – four minutes – Gerrard has little left. An energy-sapping contest on a hot near-summer day has left its mark.
So when a clearance comes out towards him more than 35 yards from goal, he decides to just thump it.
“My best ever goal,” Gerrard will later write of what follows, which is a hugely ambitious attempt to score.
His connection with the ball is perfect, lacing it with speed and power through the crowded area and, incredibly, aimed exactly into the bottom left corner.
“If my legs hadn’t been riddled with cramp, I would have brought the ball down and tried to build an attack,” Gerrard continues in his subsequent memoir.
“I was a long way out. Too far to shoot, surely? Come on! Be realistic! There had to be too many bodies in the way? But the cramp made up my mind.
“I looked at the ball. ‘It’s set decent,’ I told myself. ‘So have a go, try to hit the target. Nothing to lose, Stevie.’”
The fatigue is such that his celebration is limited to a delighted and relieved tap of the name on the back of his shirt. The name this final will be known by.
Into extra-time.
Liverpool’s goalkeeper has, in his own words, been ‘rubbish’ up to this point of the match, but his moments come too.
Reina produces a vital reaction save to tip Nigel Reo-Coker’s header onto the post and out. Marlon Harewood skews the rebound wide and the 3-3 scoreline leads to penalties.
In the shootout, Reina makes three stops, with the last, from Anton Ferdinand, confirming it will be Liverpool FC etched on the famous trophy for the seventh time.