Forgive my indulgence but this week I had to write about Palace’s FA Cup victory, so here you go..
Wembley Shook and it was Beautiful – What Palace’s FA Cup victory means.
Its status has been diminished. Its standing in the game has been slowly but surely eroded over the last few decades. Replays phased out, its importance tumbling down the priority list of clubs, both big and small. With the kick-off time of the final shuffled around by the whims of broadcasters, it is symptomatic when the Eurovision Song Contest is a major factor in determining the start time.
The FA Cup is not what it used to be, but try telling that to Palace fans. It means absolutely everything to us right now and May 17th 2025 will be forever etched in our hearts and souls. There was a banner displayed prior to the start of the match that was a quote from our French centre back Maxence Lacroix before the semi-final against Aston Villa. “When Crystal Palace win the FA Cup, Wembley will shake – it will be beautiful”.
I could be accused of being hyperbolic about the impact of winning a football match, it would not be the first time and it almost certainly won’t be the last. Having supported Palace for six decades since my elder brother roped me in when I was about five years-old, this has been a long time coming. We have been put through the mill so many times, this was a glorious redemption. This win has more than made up for the trips to Barnsley and Hull in the 1980s to watch Trevor Aylott bumble around in front of a few thousand hardy souls.
When I was younger the very notion of Palace getting to Wembley was fanciful, it was somewhere so far off it wasn’t even worth dreaming about. To such an extent that when in 1988 the Football League, in all its wisdom, came up with its centenary tournament the Mercantile Credit Football Festival (sic) we jumped at the opportunity to see our club grace the national stadium. This bizarre 2-day tournament involved 16 clubs from across all four divisions, with the criteria being based on performance over a couple of months up to March. The matches were only 40 minutes long, we lost to Sheffield Wednesday on penalties after a goalless draw and that was it, our chance petered out with a whimper.
But under Steve Coppell, a transformation of the club’s fortunes was underway with promotion to the top tier via the Play-Offs the following year. Then lo and behold another trip to Wembley in 1990, this time for a proper competition, the FA Cup Final against Man United and on it went. Last Saturday was my twelfth trip to Wembley to see Palace in different competitions. Aside from the afore-mentioned Football League centenary tournament, there was 1991 Zenith Data Systems final which we have clung on to desperately as our only cup success for the last thirty odd years, but nobody outside the club gave a flying fuck. There have been three Play-Offs finals, three FA Cup semis and four finals, including the 1990 final replay. Unlike supporters of the bigger clubs, such as City, who have been there countless times over the last decade or so and have grown increasingly blasé about the prospect, it is still a thrill for Palace to be there.
Leading up to the final against Man City, my jangling nerves were partially assuaged by the endless messages of support from fans of others clubs, people in the media, friends and relatives who are not really into football wanting us to win. It was odd having the backing of most of the country, never before have I had that sensation but it felt mighty good. Buoyed by this, a smidgeon of optimism crept into my veins, it could happen. Winning the FA Cup would mean so much and we could do it, but that made it even more tantalising and me increasingly anxious. With the previous two FA Cup finals, we were happy to be there but expected very little, this felt different.
As for the match itself, it started with City dominating, probing in their metronomic, relentless way. The pressure was already building in the first fifteen minutes but with our first serious foray into their half, Daniel Munoz’s characteristically galloping run down the right delivered the ball for Eberechi Eze to sweep home with aplomb. Surely the first player to score the opening goals in the quarters, semis and final itself. However, we still had well over an hour of regulation time to go and from the bitter experience of having led in previous 1990 and 2016 finals, it felt far too early to score.
City kept on coming in continuous waves of attacks, the defence stood firm although we hardly retained any possession of note, there was this nagging feeling that the dam would break at any moment. How were we going to survive for this long? When the VAR check on a potential red card flashed up on the screen we didn’t know what it was for, only afterwards did we see Dean Henderson swatting the ball away from Erling Haaland outside the area. That incident was the precursor to Henderson’s penalty save and snaffling the follow-up as well. There was now a scintilla of belief that this could be our day and this was embellished by a wild Kevin de Bruyne shot over the bar from less than ten yards.
Half-time was a blessed relief, time to recharge and restore all the energy spent. As the second half was about to start, with the City end the only part of the stadium bathed in sunlight, my main concern was that Henderson clearly needed a cap. Support staff were scurrying around trying to find him one. The stress was already setting in and we hadn’t even kicked off yet. The game resumed its familiar pattern, with City in charge but not carving out too many clear cut chances and if they did materialise, a Palace player blocked it or somehow snuffed out the danger.
We even had the temerity to score as Munoz bundled the ball over the line. At that point we were incredulous, it was impossible to comprehend and sure enough it wasn’t to be as the goal was disallowed for offside. Still thirty minutes remaining of the 90, it was all hands to the pump, epitomised by Adam Wharton taking a shot full in the face, a last ditch tackle from Daichi Kamada, another save from Henderson.
The defensive shape worked a treat as Oliver Glasner’s message to Pep Guardiola following the 5-2 defeat only a month ago proved prophetic. “If we meet again, you can’t play in this system because we will solve it.”And solve it they did with great resolve and tactical nous. Glasner’s words must have been reverberating around Guardiola’s head in the run-up to the final, triggering his propensity to overthinking. Not only is the Austrian a master of setting a plan and getting the players to carry it out but he is also pretty good at mind games.
Of course there was the excruciating agony of ten minutes added time, which begged the question ‘will this ever end’? It finally did as a goal-kick floated in to the City half the whistle blew, prompting tears of joy, relief and pride and a huge enveloping hug with my son, Tris. It was utterly exhausting, exhilarating, exquisite and highly emotional in equal measure. Even the Wembley scoreboard got swept up in it as it displayed ‘Winnners 2025’. Writing this five days later, am still smiling as well as now and again being close to tears. It has been difficult to concentrate on anything else. I’m not sure how long this lasts.
Tris and I were seated up in the gods, only a handful of rows from the very back of the stadium, it’s a long way down to the pitch but we felt closer to heaven. When Monday’s ‘Thought for the Day’ on Radio 4’s ‘Today’ programme was focused on the overriding and unlikely joy of Palace’s victory, it confirmed that this was indeed a religious experience. With so many of our players, including match winner Eze, dedicating the win to God I have never felt closer to the Big Man upstairs.
It was in the warm afterglow of the triumph that my thoughts turned to my brother who was primarily responsible for my lifelong attachment to the club. He would have absolutely loved this moment but he died nearly twenty years ago at the age of 48. As so many have said since Saturday, it is to those who are no longer with us, that we should dedicate this victory, this trophy, this day. Henderson talked about the loss of his father and how he knew was with him throughout.
Before the match, the tifo that cascaded down over the fans in the lower tier was a depiction of Mark Weallens with his two young boys after a Darren Ambrose screamer at Old Trafford twelve years ago. Mark died of cancer in 2017, but his sons Nathan and Dominic were both at Wembley to witness the tifo. As Nathan said – “It was special, it shows there’s still a real love for not just my dad, but all the loved ones who love Palace and didn’t get to see it. All of them now know we’re on the next step.”
All of us who were at Wembley on Saturday are lucky enough to be able to relive these moments again and again. Palace fans have lots to look forward to in the coming months and years, including playing in Europe, maybe even another few trips to Wembley (the Community Shield in August for starters) or the odd trophy. Most importantly, let us always remember those who could not enjoy the glorious present or the rosy future as Wembley did indeed shake and it was beautiful.
‘It Started With a Kick’ – Episode 58 : Paul McGregor
Paul started his career at Nottingham Forest as a youth player and made his first team debut in 1994, the highlight of his time at Forest was scoring in a UEFA Cup tie against Lyon. He joined Plymouth in 1999 where he was top scorer and Player of the Year in his first season at Home Park before finishing his career at Northampton. He also had time to carve outa a career in pop music, hence his moniker – The Britpop Footballer and he has the hair to back it up.
Paul reveals how his hero John Barnes instilled in him the need for self-confidence; how signing for Brian Clough on the boot of his dad’s blue Cortina resembled a scene from ‘Goodfellas’ and his admiration for Stan Collymore. In a poignant moment, he talks about the parallel decline of the two men who he looked up to – Clough and his dad – as they both descended into alcoholism. Paul’s harshest words are aimed at Ron Atkinson who shunned him after praising him and also his time at Northampton which he describes as the biggest mistake of his life.
Part 1 – https://bit.ly/4335QaK
Part 2 – https://bit.ly/4kskwpx
The Football Mine 