Football players' builds have evolved dramatically through the years, but as Chelsea takes on Manchester City this Saturday, one distinctive silhouette remains instantly familiar. In an era of leaner, more sculpted physiques, this enduring figure clings to its traditional dimensions: a trim midsection expanding into broad hips, with arms too slender for contemporary training regimens. Despite such quirks, it continues to dominate the contemporary landscape, adorning the champions each season.

This storied piece of silver stands as one of sport's most recognizable symbols, enveloped in more than 150 years of passion, ambition, and intrigue. It evokes deeper emotions than the ostentatious Premier League crown or the sleek Champions League prize. Remarkably, the current version is still relatively young, marking its 13th Wembley final appearance this weekend.

The FA Cup embodies how athletic traditions adapt while retaining their enchantment. The trophy destined for elevation at Wembley represents its fifth iteration; it bears little resemblance to the original, pilfered from a Birmingham storefront in 1895. A duplicate followed in 1896 - now housed at the National Football Museum - but served briefly once the FA discovered the design was not proprietary.

Manchester United's inaugural victory in 1909 prompted a custom replica. By 1910, the FA introduced a redesigned version that endured until the 1990s. Its successor, FA Cup No. 4, endured mishaps like tumbling from a Chelsea bus and slipping off a Portsmouth pedestal. Yet its short tenure highlighted football's expansion: once securely stored post-final, it now embarks on constant exhibitions.

This led to the present model, forged in 2014 by silversmiths Thomas Lyte for a more demanding itinerary. Travel and use cause inevitable damage, but repairs - involving hammering and buffing - can thin the metal further. The latest edition employs thicker silver and tips the scales at 6.3kg for added robustness.

Lifting it remains a privilege for victors alone. A near-universal sporting taboo forbids contact before triumph, regardless of fame: pop icon Rihanna in 2014 or viral chef Salt Bae in 2022 faced backlash for handling the FIFA World Cup prematurely. True prestige defies purchase.

The NHL's Stanley Cup, a massive 19th-century vessel, commands exceptional reverence. Beyond the curse of pre-victory touch, some squads shun even interim conference awards to preserve the mystique.

Even new trophies swiftly gain reverence. England's upcoming June Test series against New Zealand contests the Crowe-Thorpe Trophy, debuted on their 2024-25 tour and visiting these isles for the first time. Fashioned from bat-willow wielded by its eponyms for national tons, and sculpted by Māori artist David Ngawati, it qualifies as a taonga - a sacred treasure. Protocols like guardian appointments and blessings govern its handling.

Cricket's other honors rarely attain such sanctity. The Ashes urn likely began as a mere vanity jar in a dressing room, gifted to England's Ivo Bligh amid a whimsical exchange that blossomed into romance. It now epitomizes the sport's most intense rivalry, yet whispers of enduring affection between old adversaries.

During rare journeys from Lord's to Australia, the diminutive urn receives veneration akin to a sacred artifact. Devotees weep upon sight; a Tasmanian curator recalls a mohawked fan kneeling in prayer amid silence.

Winning teams never grasp the genuine urn, settling for replicas like the Waterford crystal series prize. Its delicacy amplifies its lore, aligning preservation with the game's soul.

Thus, approach with white gloves and honor the symbolism. The FA Cup's inaccessibility for most fans is precisely what elevates it - even in its fifth guise.