Chapter 929 - 929: Long Game

Zaha was waiting for me at the mouth of the tunnel with his shirt off.

"5 o'clock," he said.

"Go on."

"You did not ask us."

"No."

"Since April. You did not ask 1 of us if we wanted to go out there and keep it."

"If I had asked, every 1 of you would have said yes. Then I have 11 men on 2 days' rest today, and you have seen what Burnley do with 10 behind the ball."

"We would have beaten Burnley."

"It took you 22 minutes to play a pass, and you had the week off."

Players were going past us on both sides. He looked over my shoulder at the pitch.

"I have been at this club since I was a boy," he said. "We never had 1 of those. Not once. And you spent it."

"I spent it."

"On what?"

"On today. On Dortmund. On May."

"Then it had better buy something," he said, and went in.

Konaté was in the dressing room in his club coat. Tarkowski sat down next to him and started unwinding the tape from his wrists.

"Did you watch?"

"I watched," Konaté said. "You were fast enough."

"Nobody ran, Ibrahima."

On the Tuesday Rebecca brought the sheet back with Wednesday's column filled in, and I read down it as far as the 11th name.

"No."

"You had him for 20 minutes on Saturday that I did not give you," she said. "He sprinted more than anybody at this club against Arsenal and more than anybody against Burnley, and on Sunday morning his hamstring scores were the lowest he has given me since August. Start him tomorrow and start him at West Ham and that is 3 in 8 days, with Dortmund 4 days behind it."

"Everton press with Gueye and Gomes. Somebody has to carry it out past them, and nobody here carries it like Wilf. Give me the hour and I will take him off."

"On Saturday you told me they were still coming."

I had nothing to say to that.

"He came to find me on Saturday night," she said. "He wants every minute of the 12th. I told him what that costs." She wrote on the card and signed it, and turned it round on my desk. "The last 30 tomorrow. At West Ham he has 90."

I told him myself. He listened to all of it, looking at the floor.

"30," he said. "She told me 45."

"It was 45 on Saturday night. Then she had Sunday's numbers. The other 15 went after the 70th minute against Burnley, and that was me."

He looked up.

"Then you owe me 15."

"I owe you 15."

"OK," he said. "Then she can watch what I do with 30."

Manchester City won at Watford that night. They had 45 points. We had 40, and a match in hand on them until Wednesday night.

CRYSTAL PALACE: Pope. Hakimi, Dann, Konaté, Chilwell. Neves, Højbjerg, Eze. Townsend, Benteke, Perišić.

Bench: Krul, Tarkowski, Wan-Bissaka, Kovačić, Grealish, Zaha, Blake.

EVERTON: Pickford. Coleman, Zouma, Mina, Digne. Gueye, Gomes. Lookman, Sigurdsson, Richarlison. Tosun.

On the Sunday, in the 96th minute at Anfield, Jordan Pickford had pushed a ball back off his own crossbar onto Divock Origi's head. On the Wednesday he walked out at Wembley and the Everton end sang his name all the way to his goal.

"ENGLAND'S NUMBER 1! ENGLAND'S, ENGLAND'S NUMBER 1!"

In the 3rd minute Townsend swung a cross in from the right that was drifting out for a goal kick, and Pickford came 12 yards through a crowd of players and took it above his head.

In the 8th minute he came for another.

Then Eze slid Perišić through with nobody near him. Pickford stayed on his feet until Perišić had to choose, and kicked it away with his left boot.

"OHHHHHH!"

"AGAIN! He is going to give you another, Ivan! AGAIN!"

Gueye and Gomes hunted Neves as a pair, and every time he turned away from 1 of them the other was already there. Marco Silva had his coat off by 20 minutes.

On 34 Sigurdsson put a corner on Yerry Mina's head at the near post. Mina flicked it on, and Richarlison was alone at the far post with the goal empty in front of him.

0-1.

Pickford ran out to the halfway line with both fists up.

Benteke headed down from 8 yards on 41, and Pickford turned it over the bar with his fingertips.

At half time Bray spoke first.

"That is mine. I gave Mina to Christian. Mina is 6 foot 5 and he attacks the front post, and that is Ibrahima's ball. I should have had him on it from the start. They swap."

"And the far post?"

"Achraf goes goal side of Richarlison. I had him ball side."

Hakimi nodded. Konaté lifted 1 finger off his knee.

"Sarah."

"Gueye steps onto Pierre every time he takes it facing his own goal." She drew it in 2 strokes. "Pierre, first time or do not ask for it. Eberechi, you come short and take it off Rúben instead, and then Gomes has to leave him."

"And keep shooting," I said. "He is having the night of his life. Low, early, both sides of him. Nobody passes it in the box when they can hit it."

Zaha was sat by the door in his tracksuit with his elbows on his knees.

"Gaffer. If it is still 0-1 at 55, is it 35?"

I looked at Rebecca.

"It is 30," Rebecca said.

He sat back against the wall and shut his eyes.

10 minutes after the restart Neves hit it from 25, and Pickford pushed it onto the post.

Clang.

At 60 Rebecca held the card up, and Wilfried Zaha was already at the line beside me with his tracksuit off. Townsend came off. Perišić went across to the right.

"WILF! WILF! WILF!"

Zaha went at Coleman every time he had it. Everton sent Gueye across to help, and Kovačić went on for Højbjerg into the room Gueye had left.

"Eberechi! Get in the box! He is pulling it back every time, GET IN THE BOX!"

88 minutes. Zaha took it from Chilwell with his back to Coleman and let it run across him. Coleman went for it and was a foot short. Gueye came across, and Zaha put it through his legs, and now he was running along the byline at Zouma with the whole Holmesdale end stood up behind that goal.

Rebecca was on the line next to me with her card flat against her chest. She was watching his left hamstring and nothing else on the pitch.

He cut it back. Eze hit it first time from 10 yards. Pickford had it covered, and it hit Zouma's heel on the way through and went in on the other side of him.

1-1.

"EZE! EZE! EZE!"

Eze had the ball out of the net and was running with it while Pickford was still on the floor. The drum in the Holmesdale end went for 5 minutes without a break. Sarah was shouting at them to keep their shape and I was shouting at them to go, and they went.

In the 93rd Zaha came in off the left and bent it for the top corner. I saw it leave his foot and I had my arms up. Pickford went full length and pushed it round the post with 1 hand.

Fweeeeeeeeeet.

Crystal Palace 1, Everton 1.

The Everton bench ran onto the grass to their goalkeeper. Wembley clapped us off, and the clapping had stopped by the time we reached the tunnel.

Steele had Nick Pope by the elbow at the bottom of the steps.

"His first 10 minutes. He came for 2 crosses he had no business coming for. I want you to watch them with me. Tomorrow, 9 o'clock."

"Bring the laptop," Pope said.

Rebecca was outside the dressing room door with her bag on her shoulder.

"If I take him off at 70 on Saturday," I said, "what does he have tonight?"

"60. Perhaps all of it."

"Then those 2 points are mine."

"Yes," she said. "And if I give you the hour tonight and he tears it, that is 6 weeks, and that is mine. I would sooner have yours."

Zaha came out past the pair of us with his shirt in his hand. He stopped.

"Saturday," he said to her.

"90," she said.

[WILFRIED ZAHA. CONDITION 97%.]

I read that at 10 to 3 at the London Stadium with the bubbles coming down across the pitch. The whole ground sang the song with its arms out, and our lot, away in the corner on the far side of the covered track, sang over the top of it.

"DANNY WALSH! HE SAID NO! DANNY WALSH! HE SAID NO!"

CRYSTAL PALACE: Pope. Wan-Bissaka, Dann, Tarkowski, Chilwell. Neves, Kovačić, Eze. Rodríguez, Benteke, Zaha.

Bench: Krul, Sakho, Hakimi, Højbjerg, Grealish, Townsend, Cartwright.

WEST HAM UNITED: Fabianski. Zabaleta, Balbuena, Diop, Masuaku. Snodgrass, Rice, Noble, Felipe Anderson. Hernández, Lucas Pérez.