Crystal Palace vs. Chelsea : 12 February 2024.
As we travelled up to South London for the away game at Selhurst Park against Crystal Palace, we wondered if the performance of the season at Villa Park would turn out to be a solid stepping stone for the rest of the campaign. Or just a mad “one-off”.
Selhurst Park is a real ball-ache to reach. Driving up from the West of England, we are at the hands of the Sat Nav Gods. It’s basically a case of “top, middle or bottom.”
Top – up the M4 as far as the familiar turn off down the North End Road, past The Goose, then down to Wandsworth Bridge and then south-east in a straight line to Crystal Palace Football Club.
Middle – up the M3, around the M25, along the A3, almost as far as Kingston-upon-Thames, then through the B-roads of South-West London, nudging due east to Selhurst Park.
Bottom – up the M3 and then all of the way around the M25 to “six o’clock” before a dead straight route north up the A23 to the stadium.
On this particular afternoon, at just after 2pm in Melksham, the GPS went for the middle option. It suggested a journey of three hours. In reality, hit by traffic at a few key places, it became four hours. I had sorted out some parking at a private house just off Holmesdale Road, which runs north-south behind the home stand at Selhurst Park, and over the last few miles we tried to spot a pub to base ourselves for an hour. We had almost given up on finding anywhere, but I happened to spot a pub – “Pawson Arms” – a short drive from my parking space. There was even a free parking space right outside the pub.
Perfect.
It was a home pub – full of Palace fans, full of Palace photos and memorabilia on the walls – but we sidled in and stood next to the bar. It was busy but not ridiculously so. It was nigh-on perfect, as away pubs go. Andy – a friend of a friend – arrived at about 6.45pm and I passed over a spare ticket. A few minutes later, we hopped in the car and I drove to my JustPark location, just a few yards off Holmesdale Road. The Selhurst Park floodlights were easily visible. We began the march up the hill to the ground.
“Don’t remember it being this bloody steep last time.”
It took me a long time to visit Selhurst Park for the first time. My first visit was in August 1989 and a game against the then tenants Charlton Athletic, a match we lost 0-3. I watched from the middle of the Holmesdale Road terrace. My first game against Crystal Palace was in October 1991, a dull 0-0 draw, and the Chelsea support for that game was in a horrible corner section of the Arthur Wait Stand at the Holmesdale Road end. I include a few grainy photos.
We turned left at the top and began the slow walk down to the away turnstiles. I heard a young American lad, bedecked in a Palace scarf, ask where the fanzone was. I felt like saying to him “bollocks to the fanzone mate, get yourself down the “Pawson Arms” for an authentic pre-match experience”.
Three spares were handed over to other lads and at about 7.40pm, we made our way in.
I was down the front – row five – with Parky, John and Gary. Our usual match day companion Alan was convalescing after a health scare a few miles away in Anerley. We hope and pray that he can re-join us for a Chelsea game soon. Selhurst Park doesn’t change too much does it? However, for the first time I spotted a press box, illuminated, in the rear reaches of the old sand opposite, beneath the corrugated roof. This was my first evening game at Selhurst for ages and ages. I remember a FA Cup replay against Wimbledon in 1995, but nothing since.
More bloody flames. More bloody fireworks. Oh dear oh dear.
While the Holmesdale Ultras displayed a variety of stark messages for the club’s board to ignore and the general public to perhaps spot on the TV feed, the Chelsea away support was rocking.
Our team? Thiago Silva came in for the injured Benoit Badiashile. Raheem Sterling was again not chosen to start.
Petrovic
Gusto – Disasi – Silva – Chilwell
Caicedo – Enzo
Madueke – Gallagher– Jackson
Palmer
The home team were without Michael Olise and Eberechi Eze, their fleet-footed forwards. On the far side, Roy Hodgson looked frail while Ray Lewington lent on a post near the dugout.
Fine singing from the away section of the Arthur Wait Stand continued as the game began at 8pm. We dominated early possession. However, as the first-half continued, unfortunately our old habits resurfaced way too easily. We were passing the ball from side to side, but with no incisive passes to hurt the Crystal Palace defence. In fact, it was the home team who dominated the early chances, often breaking through our lines with ease. A shot from Jean-Philippe Mateta was saved by Djordje Petrovic.
It seems almost sacrilegious to say it, but Thiago Silva continued to slow things down. In his defence, there was little movement in front of him, but it was still so frustrating. It was if he was suffering from the football equivalent of “the yips” or the dart player’s worst nightmare of not being able to release the dart.
Elsewhere Cole Palmer was anonymous.
On the half-hour mark, a Palace player attempted a Paolo Di Canio scissor kick but the ball was not cleared. A calamitous scene ensued. Moises Caicedo and Noni Madueke colluded to get in each other’s way.
“Get rid! Get rid!”
The ball was picked up by Jefferson Lerma, who dropped his shoulder and curled a magnificent effort wide of Petrovic but not wide of the goal.
Crystal Palace 1 Chelsea 0.
“Glad All Over” rang out.
Bollocks.
As the rest of the dour first-half continued, we became aware that we had not engineered a single effort on the Crystal Palace goal. So, after all, maybe Villa Park was indeed a mad “one-off” and this was the real Chelsea. We tended to attack down the right where there was an awkward alliance between Malo Gusto and Madueke. Their fine performances the previous Wednesday were not able to be repeated. On the left, Ben Chilwell and Nicolas Jackson struggled. The whole team struggled.
On forty minutes, Moises Caicedo lost possession and an almighty chase took place. Thankfully, a typically well-timed sliding tackle by Silva saved the day.
On forty-five minutes, a meek shot from Conor Gallagher was scuffed wide of the far post; our first shot of the game. Bloody hell.
At the break, Mauricio Pochettino replaced Madueke with Christopher Nkunku.
Nkunku was stood at the centre-circle, awaiting the restart. But, all of a sudden, several players were seen knocking footballs around between them. What was going on? Was this post-modern football here?
“Don’t bother with the game, nor scoring, just pass the ball to each other. Just enjoy yourself. You will still get paid.”
We tried to work out why there was a delay. We then realised that the football match was missing a key ingredient; a referee.
What could the matter be? Was the referee was stuck in the lavatory? Did nobody know he was there?
In an odd attempt at humour, the Palace PA played “Three Little Birds” by Bob Marley.
“Don’t worry about a thing ‘cus every little thing is gonna be alright!”
I wondered if this was, or had been, a Palace song. It certainly was a Chelsea song. It first appeared way back in 2010 and I specifically hearing it first during a 5-0 win at Fratton Park.
The Chelsea fans soon latched onto it.
“Don’t worry about a thing ‘cus every little thing is gonna be alright! CHELSEA!”
“Don’t worry about a thing ‘cus every little thing is gonna be alright! CHELSEA!”
“Don’t worry about a thing ‘cus every little thing is gonna be alright! CHELSEA!”
After an age, the ref Michael Oliver appeared. The game restarted.
And how.
After just two minutes of the second-half, with “Three Little Birds” still bouncing around the Arthur Wait, a fine ball from the hot and cold Caicedo found Gusto on the right. His pull-back to Gallagher was cleanly despatched despite the ball bouncing high as it approached him.
Screams. Shouting. Mayhem. The players raced towards us. I was pushed, lost my footing, and almost lost my glasses. Photos were an impossibility until everything had died down.
Crystal Palace 1 Chelsea 1.
It seemed as if the momentum had switched. We had witnessed a ridiculous few minutes when a song had rejuvenated the support and – possibly, probably – had sparked life into the team.
I wondered if the Palace DJ would be awarded an assist for the equaliser.
The support roared on. With Nkunku in the middle, we caught a lot of Palmer as he drifted right. Chelsea dominated the play, with much of the action right in front of us. On a few occasions, I held my camera ready for Gusto or Palmer or Gallagher to break free.
Palmer went close.
At the other end, Silva heroically blocked a shot from Matheus Franca but stayed down. He was replaced by Levi Colwill.
An hour had passed.
Efforets from Chilwell and Jackson went close.
At the other end, a rare Palace break and a fine save by Petrovic from Franca.
On seventy-eight minutes, Raheem Sterling replaced Jackson.
On eighty-three minutes, Alfie Gilchrist replaced Gusto.
A chance for Sterling but he needed extra touches and the chance went begging. A Disasi header was parried by the Palace ‘keeper Dean Henderson.
Time was passing.
We entered injury time.
John mentioned that the last two visits to Selhurst Park had resulted in ridiculously late winners; Hakim Ziyech in February 2022 and Conor Gallagher in October 2022.
Well…
On ninety-one minutes, a fine break. Sterling found himself in space and passed to Palmer. I clicked. The photo shows Gallagher and Enzo racing through in support. Palmer advanced and adeptly slid the ball to Gallagher. The finish was exquisite, a slide-rule pass into the goal. It showed Jimmy Greaves levels of calm.
Pandemonium in South London.
Fackinell.
The players raced towards us all again.
Football – I fucking love you.
Crystal Palace 1 Chelsea 2.
John and his late winners.
It got better.
Two minutes later, we broke from our own box, the ball steered out to Palmer once more. He raced away, Nkunku occupied the thoughts of a key defender, and the ball was perfectly pushed into Enzo. He steadied himself, took a moment, then clipped the ball high into the net. I snapped that goal but not the ensuing madness in front of us once again.
Crystal Palace 1 Chelsea 3.
Game over.
Phew.
The away section was on fire by now, and the supporters were a heady mixture of joy and disbelief. We sauntered out, regrouped and walked up and then down the hills of Selhurst to get to our car.
The getaway was ridiculously quick and the Sat Nav chose the top route to head back. It felt odd driving within half-a-mile of Stamford Bridge on the way home.
It had been another long day. I returned home at 1.40am.
Next up, yet another away game, the third in a row.
Manchester City await.
See you there.
1991
2010
In the last few minutes of the game, my ears registered a new song emanating from the rowdy fans to my right. It didn’t take long to work out that it was a few lines from a Bob Marley song. More and more Chelsea joined in as our brains deciphered it. It had been an easy night, so we needn’t get carried away, but the song provided a nice uplift…a positive vibe for once.
“Don’t worry – CLAP CLAP – about a thing…CLAP CLAP CLAP – ‘cus every little thing – CLAP CLAP – is gonna be alright.”
2024
CHELSEA/esque 