Play at Wembley. Score at Wembley. Score again. Go back to Wembley again. Eberechi Eze has had an outstanding last five days of his footballing life, bookended by a performance of supreme incision on a crisp, boisterous day in south-west London, where he was the clear difference between Crystal Palace and Fulham.
Not just in his numerical contribution to Crystal Palace’s 3-0 win: a breathtaking opening goal, all thrilling, controlled power; followed by a high-skill assist. But also in terms of style and a system that leans right into its own strengths when all the parts function like this.
Fulham had possession but not the chances. Palace had a compact defence and quick transitions. Best of all, they had Eze, by some distance the most luminous presence on the pitch. The second goal on 38 minutes killed the game. It was a perfect moment, Eze taking the ball far out by the left touchline, surging inside, then producing just a tiny flash of brilliance as Sander Berge blocked his path to goal.
There were no stepovers or feints, just a switch of feet, Eze passing the ball to himself, one foot to the other, creating the space and delivering the cross in two quick touches, with just enough deception – did you think he was a rightie? Here’s the left – and with nothing wasted, even the cross placed perfectly for Ismaïla Sarr to head into the corner of the net.
It was Eze’s 10th assist of the season to go with six club goals. The last of these had arrived four minutes earlier from the same pocket of space. This time it was more obviously spectacular, Eze gliding inside, then gliding inside again, before shooting thrillingly hard and flat, the ball curling from outside the line of the far post before finding itself suddenly fizzing in the back of the net.
Those two pieces of skill settled the game. Best of all, they were entirely distinct from the 86 minutes of noise either side. Eze has often been called a cage-baller or street player, with an idea his skills are homemade, maverick, unorthodox.
In the early days at Palace, when Ray Lewington would come marching up to the touchline in his shorts just to yell at Eze, making sure he was running and covering, he did look a bit raw. Here he seemed utterly in control, physically stronger, and basically a nightmare to play against, sniping both ways with that startling lateral spring, the 360-degree scan in operation even as he’s easing past opponents. It is an elite level of skill. The real step up is to apply it every game, to be relentless, as he was here.
This was a lovely English football occasion. Craven Cottage, which always feels like a boat trip or a picnic, was washed with chilly spring sunshine before kick-off. The perimeter was lit with tongues of fire, the air crackling with early-day excitement. The Palace end had even brought its red-and-blue balloons, a nice birthday-party touch.
For both sets of players, clubs, and managers this was a significant day, with no squad rotation or distractions from other competitions. Fulham may have European ambitions, but this was everything in that moment, a self-contained piece of theatre.
For half an hour it was a messy, high-energy game, all flying collisions and lunges. But even here, the distinction between the two teams was clear. Fulham were vigorous but blunt, pressing with urgency but without penetration. Palace, by contrast, were sharper, more incisive.
There were moments of mild disorder, including the sight of Jean-Philippe Mateta back on the pitch wearing a protective device described pre-match as a helmet. In reality, it was something more pared back, a minor head-gusset, a low-denier stocking with bespoke ear-pad feature.
Mateta played with energy and led the Palace breaks in his misleading style, appearing rangy and loose but always quicker than expected. Adam Wharton had an unusual afternoon behind him, combative and buccaneering, making the game seem easy with the speed and accuracy of his passing, all while looking as if he might actually be playing with his hands in his pockets. He was fortunate not to receive a second yellow card after a minor, harmless but still illegal kick that the referee missed.
It was comfortable for Palace by the end. Afterwards, as journalists asked questions about Eze, as Oliver Glasner answered questions about him, a knot of children could be heard simultaneously chanting his name outside the press room. There was only one outstanding presence here, expertly deployed in that hard-running system. On this form, Palace will be a match for any team left in their way. And Eze does like Wembley.
