Walking up to the stadium with Emma's hand in mine, I felt a strange sense of detachment, like I was a tourist in my own life. The noise, the smell of fried onions and stale beer, the sea of red and blue, it was all so familiar, yet so different.
I wasn't just a fan anymore. I was a part of this club, a small cog in the vast, complex machine. Gary had arranged VIP seats for us, proper executive box tickets in the Main Stand, with a perfect, panoramic view of the pitch.
As we made our way through the corridors, past the corporate hospitality suites and the framed photographs of Palace legends, I felt a flutter of nerves in my stomach. This was a different world from the academy, a world of money and power and expectation.
