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Mile, marriage & Mateta: Matt's decade as an Eagle

As the train started to fill with a sea of blue and red, it was hard to hide my excitement – even though we hadn’t won in 13 matches at that point!

I didn’t care – we were almost there! We followed the crowd through the streets and then, like an oasis in the South London desert, there it was: Selhurst Park.

We found our seats, wide-eyed, and soaked in the atmosphere. The players ran onto the pitch and the singing started. It was absolutely incredible – there’s no sound like it in any football stadium in Australia.

The game kicked off – and Morgan and I were entranced.

This is where things get a little blurry for me, as the game was a whirlwind. I can’t confirm that I cursed him, but I hope wearing my Wilfried Zaha jersey had nothing to do with the groin injury which finished Wilf’s afternoon at half-time. I remember Morgan turning to me and saying: “We’re in trouble now, aren’t we?”

Leicester scored first, almost an hour in, and I thought that on potentially my only ever visit to Selhurst Park, I’d be seeing another loss.

Then, maybe three minutes later, Ebere Eze won a free-kick and took it – snagging us a goal back as it bounced off the woodwork, and then the ‘keeper, for a (technically) Daniel Iversen own goal. As if by magic, Morgan managed to snap a picture just as the ball crossed the line! We were back at 1-1 with 20 minutes to go.

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