Ian Holloway may always be remembered for his treatise on the importance of getting a result, in which he used the analogy of pulling a dodgy bird in a nightclub. "She might not be the best looking lady we ended up taking home but it was still very pleasant," he said, as part of his entry into football's all-time list of humorous quotations.

The problem with Holloway's girl-in-a-taxi line was that it served to reinforce the impression of him as some sort of dugout comedian, which, in truth, his frequent appearances on Sky Sports' Soccer AM programme did nothing to dispel.

When he was sacked as the manager of Leicester City in May 2008, his future looked anything but amusing and it was hard to see where and how he could reinvent himself. The idea that it would be at little Blackpool and he would finish his debut season in charge with a fairytale promotion into the Premier League would have had most people scoffing. No one is laughing now. Except, perhaps, Blackpool's bank manager.

Holloway's triumph at Wembley in the play-off final against Cardiff City and over the course of the season has been built on more than sterling man‑management. During his year away post-Leicester, Holloway reflected on the importance of going all-out to win matches and once installed at Bloomfield Road he insisted on a bold 4-3-3 formation, with a trio of genuine strikers.

Fortune has favoured his bravery, no more so than here when his full-backs resembled auxiliary wingers and tangerine shirts passed and moved beautifully during a memorable first half. Blackpool were clinging on at times in the second period but, as the champagne corks popped at full time and the pipe dream became gloriously real, Holloway could savour vindication of the most satisfying variety. Here was a football man having reminded everybody of his true worth.

For Cardiff, the disappointment cut to the core. After a season pockmarked by winding-up petitions and self-imposed transfer embargoes, they had dared to hope for the happy ending that would have wiped away their troubles. Instead, it was Blackpool who hit the £90m jackpot. Will Cardiff's fiscal saviours from Malaysia now come through for them and can they keep hold of their key players?

Holloway's brief upon taking the Blackpool job was to prevent the club being relegated into League One. They had one of the lowest wage bills in the Championship, standing at £6m, and when Holloway claimed that promotion was a possibility people thought he was being flippant. Yet his belief has proved contagious, while his commitment to expansive, attacking football has had a liberating effect. He has preached a gospel of ''No fear'' and, on a picture‑perfect afternoon, it felt as if the favourites, Cardiff, were the ones with everything to lose.

There was plenty to enjoy about the match, from the smoothness of Blackpool's passing in the first half to Peter Whittingham's vision for Cardiff and Michael Chopra's razor-sharp little runs. It was even possible for the neutral to revel in the Disneyland defending on show. All that the centre-halves were missing were the over-sized shoes and giant ears but it made for a thrilling playground-style shoot-out.

Cardiff's game-plan needed to be revised when Jay Bothroyd went off. The influential centre-forward laboured through 15 minutes before he accepted the inevitable. Should he even have played? Passions bubbled furiously. There was even a flare-up between Mark Kennedy and his Cardiff team-mate Anthony Gerrard, the substitute, as the latter warmed up on the touchline.

Holloway ran the gamut of emotions. The heart fluttered when Chopra hit the woodwork for the second time while the flappings of his goalkeeper, Matt Gilks, did little to engender calm. There was a desperation about Blackpool's rearguard action at the death. But they came through and though Cardiff may argue they deserved better there could be no dampening the Blackpool celebrations. On the brink of ruin 11 years ago when Karl Oyston became their chairman, this promotion means they have travelled from the bottom division to the top in the space of nine years.

Blackpool's finest hour is said to be the FA Cup final of 1953, when some bloke called Matthews wrote his name into folklore. Thanks to Holloway, Wembley now holds fresh glories for the club.