If I weren’t getting my hair cut by the best hairdresser in the world (no, of course I’m not linking to her; I’m not stupid) tomorrow afternoon, I might have gone to Palace v Wolves. Wolves are two points and two places below us in the table, and if we lose this game I smell a nail in the coffin of our play-off chances. If chances can have coffins. And if (metaphorical) nails have a smell.
I will actually go to a real game at some point, rather than thinking of excuses not to.