Good game. After all the worries about Palace putting us out of the cup at this point, we find ourselves with a favourable home draw in the next round.
Home attendance wasn’t great, but it’s understandable. This was our third game in six days, and while Puel seems to have successfully rotated the squad, it’s a bigger ask to get supporters to rotate more cash into their bank accounts. I know the tickets were cheap enough, but you’ve got to look at the overall cost of the night, then multiply it by the number of people you fancy taking.
My bro was unable to attend due to a mini-crisis on the barrios. There were empty seats either side of me. The row behind had a couple of Hungarian mushes sat there, jabbering away. I asked if they supported the Saints. “I support Arsenal”, says one.
“Arsenal aren’t playing. Tonight you’ll support the Saints, my lad”
“Yes, but when Arsenal are playing I will support them. Can I buy tickets from Southampton’s website?”
“Only for the home end”. I then start to tell him the tale of the United couple that got repeatedly punched for revealing their United shirts when they scored their equaliser, with the advantage of having places to point to. They were ashen-faced at this point.
Our low attendance wasn’t helped by a pretty large and loud showing from the Palace lot. During the early part of the game, they could drown a depleted Itchen North out with noise, temporarily at least. Amusingly, they’re another team which sings their own team name (or CPFC) to the tune of “you’re fucking shit”.
Palace’s fans are self-styled ultras. They are very proud of their away support. Their team simply didn’t put it on for them, bossed and harrassed all over the park. We were unlucky not to score more. Anyways, they’re giving it large before the penalty.
“Your ground is too big for you”
Typically met with:-
“We’re all going on a European Tour”.
Puncheon’s arrival was amusing. We did the “He shits when he wants” chant. They hit back with “He left 'cos you’re shit”. We hit back with “He’s not going on a European Tour!”. Advantage Saints.
When Hesketh’s goal was rifled in, there was pandemonium in Itchen North, a skeleton crew blasting “who are ya?” to Palace’s lot. A cauldron of noise, I turned around to the Hungarian nippers and said “you don’t get this at the fucking Emirates!”.
By the end, Palace’s fans were largely silent and the Itchen North bad boys were leading a chorus of “You can stick your fucking ultras up your arse”. There’s room. Palace shat themselves after meeting the mighty Saints, emptying their bowels and silencing their fans.
Now that’s what I call a cup dumping.
