"Why do we do it" I texted to my mate Loz as I stood cold and dejected on a Southern train coming back from a miserable afternoon at Selhurst Park.
"Because this is a moment you are unlikely to forget" he replied. "You remember the crap losses more than the humdrum wins".
I think this is probably true as I can already recall the awfulness of going up to The Hawthorns more quickly than the 2-0 win over Preston that followed it. In my mind Shrewsbury in the FA Cup 3rd Round back in 1991 was memorable because it was the most bitterly cold I've ever been at a football match. The real reason I probably remember it is because we lost 4-1 against a lower league side. Had it been a 1-0 win or 0-0 draw it would've long since been discarded into my memory's trash.
This game will go down in my mind as one that I nearly avoided completely. On Friday afternoon I suddenly realised my ticket, which I'd definitely seen delivered a couple of days ago, was nowhere to be seen. I searched for three hours with no luck at all and began to think that I'd accidentally recycled it. Although I knew tickets were still available I didn't really fancy the prospect of lining Simon Jordan's pockets by another £25. So I started to make plans that didn't involve trekking to the twilight zone of South London where all journeys take at least twice as long as they should. However my wife then came home and found the ticket within 30 seconds of being told it was lost.
Therefore I went but within six minutes of the kick off regretted it as we gave away two soft goals. This wasn't West Brom all over again as we did put some nice moves together and looked as if we felt we could get back into the game, but when Graham's penalty was saved it was clear it wasn't going to be our day.
The game was killed off for us early in the second half when, having been on the attack, we gave the ball away and Palace broke quickly. Mariappa, who was at fault for at least two of the goals, had an excellent chance to put a decisive tackle in but hesitated and seconds later the ball was in the back of the net.
We continued to play the attractive passing game that has reaped so many rewards recently but it was pointless because our shooting was so wayward. Cathcart came closest with a header that Sperroni tipped over, and Cleverley hit the post late on. To quote the Palace fans obvious chant we spent the entire afternoon looking like we couldn't score in a brothel.
On another day, some of those chances would've gone in and maybe our defending would've been tighter and we might have got something out of it. It wouldn't be so memorable but it would have meant a point or three. And then there are those diamond days, the ones that come along more rarely than these dire ones, that are magical and make you remember why you do it. We've had one at Palace fairly recently by the same scoreline and once Loz put today in context I very much enjoyed the memory of it during the two hour slog back across London.
