As a then 15 year old, reasonably new recruit to the Palace family (thanks to my parents, both Palace supporters, who had thankfully steered me clear of my pre-pubescent Spurs days) I had rarely attended football matches, having previously been taken to only a handful of games, the majority being Palace, of course. So the Man City and Liverpool games last season were a big treat for me, a chance to watch some of the finest quality players from around the country, with the likes of Suarez, Aguero and Yaya Toure, not to mention the Palace stars, all playing under the Selhurst lights.
Being a Monday Night Football game, I’d been slowly building and building my excitement all day, ready to cheer on Palace with genuine belief that we could take a point, maybe even all 3. So, when the evening came, I think it’s fair to say I was buzzing for the game. But obviously the mix of emotions crept in; excitement, anxiety and that all too familiar feeling of sickness in the pit of my stomach, a feeling most probably recognised by many Palace fans. Watching the players warm-up before the game gave me a strong surge of hope – focussing on my favourite players, Dwight Gayle and Yannick Bolasie, their quick movement, passing and Gayle’s supreme finishing gave me a sense of elation; we could do this.
Right before the start of the game, a mighty display was unravelled throughout the entire Holmesdale stand; an immense wall of varying colours; red, blue and white with the message “fortress Selhurst” hanging off the upper Holmesdale, and two large pictures of a castle on either side, blowing triumphantly in the evening breeze, an intimidating sight to any opposing player or fan: a motivating display to any Palace players or supporters.
Soon enough, the time came for the players to come marching out to the deafening roars of the crowd, and Glad All Over being sung from every angle. The atmosphere was ecstatic; the exuberant Palace fans wanted another win from their hard working, determined team, and were fixed on egging them on, eyes fixed on one of Palace’s highest ever Premier League finishes.
Kick off was soon upon us, bringing the players all into action, with the fans in excellent voice, singing and shouting their hearts out. Early into the first half, Glen Johnson was “brought down” in the Palace area by Bolasie, who surprisingly was let off by Mark Clattenberg, for once the ref not siding with the bigger team. Soon after, Sakho, the Liverpool centre-back squandered an easy chance, a free header from a corner.
Unfortunately, it didn’t take long for Liverpool to break down the Palace defence, and it was done in the form of Joe Allen, the smallest man on the pitch. A simple back post header, with previously unheard Liverpool supporters coming into voice. 3 people surrounding my seat in the Arthur Waite stand silently lapsed into celebration. Despite Palace being 1-0 down, the support was still unbelievable, with fans rocking the stadium, singing louder than before.
As the first half drew to a close, Palace fans went into the half time break fairly happy with the first half performance, keeping in-form Liverpool held down to 1-0 after 45 minutes, with a fair share of opportunities.
15 minutes later, the players walked back out, unfazed by the ear-splitting din of the crowd, focussed on what they needed to do. Less than ten minutes later, Sturridge managed a lucky deflection through the Palace defence, beating Jules and sneaking its way into the goal. Another two minutes later, Suarez and Sterling linked up well, Suarez passing to Sterling and looking for the 1-2, which Sterling played through with expert precision, perfectly weighted into his path to tuck in underneath Speroni. “Only six more goals and we’ll be on level goal difference with City!” said one of the Liverpool fans surrounding me. Two quick goals against a now deflated Palace team, with players and fans alike now beginning to feel their hopefulness ebbing away.
Just when all hope appeared lost, Damien Delaney came to the rescue with a 25 yard deflected shot to beat Mignolet in the Liverpool goal. The hope started to flow back, as if a tap had been turned on round the length of the stadium, with it flowing through every fan. It was impossible not to feel lifted by this when everyone around you is lifted by this Delaney wonder strike.
Substitute Gayle was the next to drive the knife deeper into Liverpool with a well composed finish after fantastic work by Bolasie, picking up the ball on the edge of the Palace box and running the length of the entire pitch before finishing it off with an exquisite lay off to Gayle, who smartly placed the ball in the bottom right corner. The Palace support was deafening but now somewhat more intense: we could actually take something here if we could get one more goal.
88th minute. Liverpool’s title hopes are hanging in the balance against an increasingly dangerous Palace squad. Mariappa picks up the ball and punts the ball up the field, finding Glenn Murray who chests the ball perfectly into the path of Dwight Gayle, who again threads it past Mignolet. 3-3!
The atmosphere at this stage of the game was otherwordly. I found myself bouncing around various people, shouting at the top of my lungs and I could still not hear myself. Turning around to the surrounding Liverpool fans, I saw them receiving abuse from all angles, which of course was hilarious. Moments like these make Palace’s fans the best in the league. The mix of emotions I had felt for the last few hours was unreal; excitement switched to anxiety, which then changed to disappointment, which then went to hope, which eventually transformed into outright happiness. That game revolutionised football for me. It taught me to never give up, and it taught me that to get to happiness, you sometimes have to go through bitter disappointment.
Thank God I’m not still in that pre-pubescent Spurs stage.
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