Crystal Palace are sneakily perfecting the art of the away win. Like seasoned burglars, they’ve crept into enemy territories and swiped six wins in a row across all competitions. Since late October, they’ve only tripped up once on foreign soil—probably just to keep things interesting. And this latest triumph? Oh, it was a masterclass in smash-and-grab football.
For most of the match, Palace played the kind of possession game that makes minimalists nod approvingly—doing little but doing it well. Meanwhile, Fulham were like an over-caffeinated hamster frantically trying to impress a cat. Twice in the first half, Eberechi Eze cut them open like a hot knife through butter, leaving the home crowd nervously checking the exits.
To their credit, Fulham tried. Oh boy, did they try. But effort without precision is like a dog chasing its own tail—it’s cute, but you’re not scoring any points. Eventually, Eddie Nketiah came on as Palace’s closer and slammed the door on Fulham’s hopes with 15 minutes left to play.
For Fulham, it was their fifth consecutive heartbreak in this stage of the competition. They started the day with sunshine and swagger, emerging onto the pitch to a chorus of fans and fireworks like gladiators ready for battle. But that energy was about as sustainable as a toddler on a sugar high.
Marco Silva’s crew kicked off like a swarm of angry wasps guarding their sugary stash. Within two minutes, Rodrigo Muniz was bulldozing his way into the box with the urgency of someone whose pizza was about to burn. Unfortunately for him, his shot decided it was auditioning for a spot in the “Gone with the Wind” sequel and drifted wide.
And that was as good as it got for Fulham. They fizzled out quicker than cheap sparklers, Muniz spending more time on the grass than a sunbathing sloth. At one point, he was on the ground so often the ref probably considered offering him a sleeping bag. It was from one of these dramatic collapses that Palace pounced.
Muniz was down, Marc Guéhi was gesturing like he was trying to direct airport traffic, and the ref was busy not caring. Palace whipped the ball down the left flank like they’d been practicing this very moment in a heist movie montage. Tyrick Mitchell found Eze, who juked past Sasa Lukic and curled a sublime shot inside the far post, making it look like child’s play.
Palace doubled their lead five minutes later with a “blink-and-you’ll-miss-it” counter-attack. Eze, clearly channeling his inner wizard, danced down the wing and served up a perfect cross to Ismaïla Sarr, who nodded the ball home like he was cashing in a free lunch voucher.
Home advantage? What home advantage? Between league and cup matches, Fulham hadn’t beaten Palace at Craven Cottage since forever. Okay, maybe not forever, but their last win probably involved players wearing baggy shorts and Brylcreem. Nine matches into this decade and the away sides have racked up 23 goals to the hosts’ paltry nine.
Fulham fans could be forgiven for thinking they were cursed. Sure, they dominated the opening 20 minutes like an overzealous intern, but aside from Muniz’s early misfire and Andreas Pereira’s half-chance, they never looked like cracking Palace’s code.
Dean Henderson in the Palace goal was probably checking his phone for updates on the latest TikTok trends until the 26th minute when Jefferson Lerma decided to announce Palace’s presence with a thunderous volley that rattled the crossbar. Oliver Glasner poetically called it their “first hello.” Honestly, it felt more like a smack on the door with a battering ram.
Fulham’s second half was essentially a copy of the first but with even less precision and increasingly lower hope. They knocked on Palace’s door repeatedly, but all they got was a polite “No, thank you” and the occasional scowl from Dean Henderson. Willian managed a decent curler in the 68th minute, but at this point, even thin gruel was a gourmet meal for Fulham’s attacking appetite.
Jean-Philippe Mateta made his much-anticipated return after being treated like a piñata by Millwall’s goalkeeper Liam Roberts in their last encounter. The poor guy had more stitches in his ear than a grandmother’s quilt, but he seemed determined to play like it was just another day at the office.
After 20 minutes of battle, he was swapped out, and within five minutes of his departure, Palace sealed the deal. Nketiah slipped through Fulham’s porous defense like a pickpocket at a music festival and coolly slotted the ball past Bernd Leno, turning Fulham’s waning hopes into a full-blown existential crisis.
The moral of the story? Crystal Palace are becoming road warriors of the highest order, winning away games like they’re collecting passport stamps. And Fulham? Well, let’s just say their home form needs a makeover. Maybe next time, guys.
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