Posted by Albert Tatlock on December 6, 2024, 18:37:22
The FA Cup will take us to Sarf London on January 11th (allegedly, unless the TV mandarins decree otherwise).
On the plus side, win or lose, a chance to demonstrate to the wider sporting world that we are ready to mix in higher circles.
Minus - the prospect of spending long periods in contemplation of the stationary bumper of the car in front. Whichever route you choose, off the end of the M1 or M40 and through London to join the Brighton Road, or take a chance on the M25 being clear for the longer journey to the A23 junction, there are pitfalls. And then, on the return journey, be prepared for insane diversions around the edges of benighted Midland villages.
I was at EP for the League Cup tie against the Glaziers, as they were then dubbed, in the early 1970s.
That, however, was not my first glimpse of the exotically named Crystal Palace. A couple of years earlier, having nothing better to do, I decided to visit Spotland, a short hop these days, but at the time, so it seemed to me, an arduous trek to the borders of the known world.
I boarded a train at probably Levenshulme, but possibly Heaton Chapel, alighted at Piccadilly and crossed the city centre on foot to catch the Rochdale train at Victoria.
I had taken along my trusty County scarf, the regulation plain blue and white striped affair, regulation uniform of that era, so blended in without the similarly clad locals being aware that here was a visitor from civilisation. Only my inability to replicate their uncouth vowels would have betrayed me.
The hosts were temporarily a notch higher than their customary place in the Rochdale Division, but it availed them little, as Palace dismissed them from the tournament.
On the return journey, I shared the platform with a small gaggle of Palace supporters, heading for the overnight train from Piccadilly to Euston. They probably had an outside chance of reaching their homes in time for breakfast.
The mists of time are swirling around me, and they appear to have blotted out all recollection of both 90 minutes from the matches above. I know that I was there, but cannot bring to mind a single incident on the field of play.
Possibly the brain cells which once held those memories have been overwritten by more recent input, but an alternative explanation is that the memories have been washed away by regular intake of C2H5OH. On balance, I incline to the latter.
on December 6, 2024, 18:37:22