On the screen, Parish was clapping. Not the restrained, professional applause of a chairman maintaining decorum.
The genuine, slightly overwhelmed clapping of a man who had bought Crystal Palace from administration and was now watching his club drawn against AC Milan in the knockout rounds of a European competition. Dougie beside him was typing on his phone. Probably texting me. I checked. He was.
Dougie: "Milan. I've already started on the logistics. Flights, hotels, stadium access. We'll need at least 3,000 tickets for the away leg. This is going to be something, Danny."
I looked at the room. Thirty-five faces. The players who would play the match. The coaches who would prepare for it. The analysts who would dissect Milan's system. The physios who would keep the bodies ready.
