Torres could turn out to be the £50m bargain

A few seconds of pure, unadulterated, brain-emptying joy.

Leaping, screaming, all-consuming freedom and relief that only a football fan, so entwined in their team’s fortunes, can feel.

Yep, Fernando Torres runs from the halfway line and his sometimes mind-blowing incompetence, undoubted misfortune and a truly miserable 15 months in Chelsea colours are forgotten thanks to one wonderful piece of finishing from the Fernando of old.

“For Chelsea fans, up until the second away goal, it had been 90 minutes of complete and utter torture.”

An inevitable defeat has become a glorious, glorious victory. The Torres goal confirmed the seemingly impossible.

Of course, the Spaniard’s exquisitely taken ‘golden goal’ has much more significance than a personal and much-needed confidence-booster. It ensured Chelsea’s place in the Champions League final.

At 2-0 down, with 10 men, against the awesome Catalans, there wasn’t a prayer. It’s a titanic achievement. No one in their right mind would have backed the Blues. I had to steel myself to carry on watching when Andres Iniesta made it 2-0.

Game over, lots of expletives, general devastation and a slow acceptance it was damage limitation for the rest of the game. Ten men for 50 minutes and trailing already. The best passers in the world, playing a brand of football no other team can touch. They will be unstoppable. Four of five maybe? Please not a humiliation.

But no. An incredible, gutsy response – sealed by Torres’ goal – means Barcelona were held to a 2-2 draw in the Camp Nou. Beaten against all the odds on aggregate by a goal – plus the cushion of an away goal, if you are getting picky. We strolled it in the end!

Ramires was once again immense. Energetic, resolute, brave, tenacious and the scorer of a breathtaking goal.

Branislav Ivanovic was equally awesome in defence. A sensational display that was desperately needed given the loss of the unfortunate Gary Cahill to injury and John Terry to a ridiculous loss of self control.

Frank Lampard, who took over the captain’s armband, was back to his inspirational best.

It was a truly remarkable triumph, littered with heroic performances from the men in white.

It provided nail-biting, incident-packed and captivating entertainment from start to finish.

At least for the neutral. For Chelsea fans, up until the second away goal, it had been 90 minutes of complete and utter torture. No exaggeration. If purgatory exists, this was surely it. Watching your team slowly die a slow death is beyond tough.

I couldn’t even bring myself to celebrate the Ramires goal – sublime as it was. It was pointless; a futile meaningless act that was simply designed to suck me in and then make the crushing disappointment of conceding a late, telling third goal all the more agonising. We would now lose in last-gasp style to make it even worse.

But a display of sheer resilience and willpower enabled Torres to settle the contest in sensational style thanks to some delightful control, a purposeful run and a confident one-on-one finish. That goal was the first moment of pleasure I got from the game. But it was worth the wait.

My reward is having to go through it all again on 19 May. Ridiculous isn’t it? Part of me is dreading it.

The Spaniard’s reward could well be a place in the starting line-up for the final against Bayern Munich, who beat Jose Mourinho’s Real Madrid on penalties in the other semi-final.

With Ramires suspended (along with Raul Meireles, Ivanovic and Terry), Torres could well come in.

Juan Mata and Didier Drogba are certain to start and Torres, given his big-game experience, is probably favourite to take the other wide spot in the 4-5-1/4-3-3 formation favoured by Roberto Di Matteo.

If he finds the winner in the final – the biggest club game in world football – £50m will look like a bargain.