The carnival of noise that had engulfed Selhurst Park for the final twenty minutes of the 4-0 demolition of Burnley followed down the tunnel, a wave of pure, unadulterated joy that echoed in the concrete corridor.
It was the sound of a club reborn, of a fanbase that had been dragged through the mud of a relegation battle and had erged, blinking, into the bright, warm sunshine of safety.
The System, my silent, secret companion, had confird it with a cool, clinical finality: [Relegation Probability:
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