Some wins feel tidy. Some feel deserved. And then there are the ones like this. The ones you drag out of the fire with your bare hands. Swansea’s 2–1 comeback over Wrexham was not pretty, not calm, and definitely not comfortable. It was the kind of night that reminds you why football still gets under your skin no matter how many times this club has put you through it.
Vitor Matos summed it up straight after the whistle. “It was a really emotional game like we all expected.” And he was right. You could feel the tension from the first minute. The crowd was restless, the players were a touch tight, and the whole place felt like it was waiting for something to spark.
Instead, we got a gut punch. Cameron Burgess, under pressure, nodded into his own net. A horrible way to go behind, especially in a derby. But even at 1–0 down, you could see Swansea were the ones trying to play. Wrexham had their moment, but they did not want the ball. They did not want the game. They wanted to hang on.
Swansea did not let them. We kept pushing and probing, even if the final ball was not quite there. It felt like one of those nights where you dominate everything except the scoreboard. But then Zan Vipotnik finally got the break we had been begging for. A deflected strike, scruffy as anything, but absolutely earned. The roar told you everything. Belief came flooding back.
From there, the whole stadium shifted. You could feel the energy rising. It was the kind of collective shove that only happens in football when thousands of people decide they are not accepting a draw.
Then came the moment. The chaos. The gift. Call it what you want. Ethan Galbraith’s free kick caused trouble. Arthur Okonkwo came for it and got nowhere near it. The ball looped up, Cabango nodded it back towards goal, and Okonkwo, usually so solid, somehow spilled it right at Adam Idah’s feet. Idah did not need a second invitation. He poked it home and the place erupted.
Matos called them “two goals that are typical derby goals” scruffy, frantic, born from pressure rather than pattern. And he’s right. Derbies aren’t won with aesthetics. They’re won with presence. With being in the right place at the right time. With refusing to accept that the script is already written.
But what struck me most wasn’t the tactical analysis or the technical detail. It was the way Matos talked about the supporters.
“The feeling we all had on the pitch was just amazing, these are the moments. We can say the turnaround on the pitch started in the stands.”
That line matters. Because it wasn’t just a polite nod to the fans. It was an acknowledgement of something real. The Swansea.com Stadium was sold out, and you could feel the weight of that support in the second half. The noise wasn’t just loud—it was purposeful. It pushed. It demanded. It believed.
And belief is contagious.
For Swansea fans, it was limbs. For Wrexham, heartbreak. For Okonkwo, a nightmare. Phil Parkinson defended him afterwards, and to be fair, he had to. “It is a high-profile mistake but Arthur has been outstanding. He has been a colossus of a goalkeeper.” And he is right. Okonkwo has saved them plenty. But this is football. One mistake in a derby and that becomes the story.
Parkinson also had plenty to say about the tackle on Lewis O’Brien. “It is a bad tackle. It is high, it is dangerous, I think he is very lucky not to get red.” You could hear the anger in his voice. O’Brien is a tough lad, and if he is coming off after seven minutes, you know it is serious.
Matos did not bite. “That is his opinion. I have nothing to comment on that.” Classic Matos. Calm, controlled, refusing to get dragged into a sideshow.
And honestly, Swansea did not need the distraction. Because this win was not about referees or injuries or mistakes. It was about resilience. About refusing to let a derby slip away. About a team that is starting to believe in itself again. And if Parkinson wants to moan about decisions made by the referee he can comment on the kick Ronald took from McLean in the game as well, a review of the videos of the incident will do him no harm here to be more balanced.
Matos spoke about Idah with real warmth. “Adam is a striker with a hunger to score. He wants to make an impact when he comes on.” You could see that hunger in the way he attacked that loose ball. That is what you want from a striker off the bench. Someone who smells chaos and sprints towards it.
Three home wins on the bounce. A climb up the table. A team that looks like it has finally found its heartbeat again.
Wrexham will talk about the tackle. They will talk about the mistake. They will talk about luck. But the truth is simple. Swansea were the better side. We played the football. We controlled the game. We forced the moments that mattered.
And in a derby, a real Welsh derby, that is what counts.
This was not just a win. It was a reminder. A reminder that Swansea City, for all the ups and downs, still has fight, still has identity, and still has a crowd that can drag a team over the line when it matters most.
There is a long way to go, as Matos said. “At this moment every point helps, but there are so many games to come.”
If the Swans keep showing this kind of heart and this kind of connection between pitch and stands, then this season might still have something to say.

This article first appeared on JACKARMY.net.

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