We sleep like absolute logs, deeply rested, and enjoy breakfast by the river. The morning sun dapples through the trees as we watch the trout fishermen, true artists, tease and torment their prey, artfully skimming their flies across the surface of the water. It’s a peaceful, idyllic start to the day.
But today is going to be a bit different, and for multiple reasons. It’s Saturday, which in the Sells-Brown household traditionally means a day steeped in sport. Whether we’re managing, playing, or just glued to the screen – be it football, cricket, hockey, rugby, NFL, tennis, or Formula 1 – we absolutely love our sport. Now, I’m going to digress, probably repeatedly, over the course of this post, but if you believe dreams can come true, then I think you’ll humour me to the end.
This isn’t just any Saturday; it’s FA Cup Final Saturday. When my brother and I were kids, we’d be glued to the TV for the entire day – from the teams at the hotel, the coach journey to Wembley, the pre-match walk on the pitch, to the game itself and the trophy lift. It was one of the few days of the year when we could legitimately sit transfixed by the TV for an extended period of time.
I’m South London and proud, and I’ve supported Crystal Palace Football Club, my beloved Eagles, for the best part of 50 years. In our entire 119-year history, we’ve never won the FA Cup in fact the only trophy we have is the Zenith Data Systems Cup. Anyone ever heard of it? I’m going to digress, the Zenith Data Systems Cup was the sponsored name for the Full Members’ Cup, an English football cup competition held from 1985 to 1992. Crystal Palace won the ZDS Cup in the 1990-91 season, defeating Everton 4-1 after extra time in the final at Wembley. That’s the sum occupancy of our trophy cabinet, a trophy most people haven’t even heard of.
Today, we’re playing in the final against Manchester City. This is our third FA Cup Final appearance, and I’m desperately hoping for ‘third time lucky.’ Our previous two visits to Wembley saw us lose to Manchester United on both occasions. We were at the last final, and our hearts were broken by some seriously dodgy refereeing and a Jesse Lingard extra-time winner.
When we first planned our European Road Trip, there was a slim possibility that CPFC might win their semi-final. But honestly, I never truly imagined we’d actually make it back for the final, so we went ahead and booked our adventure. Now, here we are, a thousand miles away from Wembley!
We take a walk into the nearby town of Bohinjska Bistrica for supplies, having already discovered there’s no chance of watching the game in any of the three local bars. It’s a glorious day, and with my nerves jangling and the game not kicking off until 5:30pm local time, we have plenty of time to kill.
The town itself is charming, a quiet spot surrounded by those mighty Julian Alps. As the hours tick by, intensifying my pre-match jitters, we find distraction in simply exploring. We meander along the banks of the Bistrica River, a smaller, crystal-clear tributary that eventually flows into the broader Sava, which itself winds past our campsite. Finding a secluded spot, we sit by its edge, watching the incredibly clear water tumble over rocks, feeling the cool breeze, and trying to calm the storm of anticipation brewing inside me. It’s a perfect antidote to the mounting excitement, offering a moment of serene contemplation before the footballing storm.
Finally, it’s game time. We’re perched by the peaceful river at our campsite, laptop precariously balanced, a good internet connection via the mobile data from my phone our lifeline to Wembley. Every pass, every tackle, every shot feels magnified. The tension is palpable, even through the small screen. Then, the moment arrives: Palace score! Eze, our up-front diamond, scores an absolute peach after some quite magnificent team play. The roar I let out probably echoes across the entire campsite. I swiftly apologize to our neighbours. We’re in the lead after 15 mins, can we possibly hang on for 75 minutes?? Dean Henderson our mercurial keeper saves a penalty towards the end of the 1st half. Luck seems to be going our way. Our lead feels precious and my nerves are rapidly shredding. Time slows as the game takes an extraordinary amount of time to reach its conclusion. There’s one final twist: 10 minutes of additional time. I’m not sure I can manage the stress of watching the seconds tick down as Manchester City go in search of an equalizer as the team fight with every ounce of energy to hang on to our precarious lead.
And then, it happens. The final whistle blows. Against all odds, Crystal Palace are FA Cup winners! Tears stream down my face, an absolute torrent of pure, unadulterated joy. Fifty years of waiting, of hoping, of near misses, culminates in this incredible moment, watched from outside our tent by a Slovenian river. It’s a dream come true. I cannot believe it – we’ve finally won a trophy!
We head to the campsite restaurant, still buzzing with euphoria, to celebrate this historic victory. What better way to mark such an occasion than with a celebratory steak and a glorious bottle of local red wine? Every bite tastes of triumph, every sip of disbelief and immense pride. I have to keep pinching myself this moment is not real.
Back in the tent, unable to let the magic fade, I pull on my red and blue CPFC shirt. I sleep in it, a small, superstitious act to ensure that when I wake, the triumph of Crystal Palace winning the FA Cup isn’t just a glorious dream, but a beautiful, tangible reality. What a day, what a team and next season we’re off to play in Europe! Sweets dreams are made of this!
Leave a Reply