A mesmerising nine-pass movement for Hogan's tap-in which left one thinking that Brentford were still in the dressing-room, a perfect curling back-post cross from Snodgrass for Albert to head in, a pile-driving own-goal strike from Elmo in front of the Holte, only for him to get back up the park and put the ball on unjustly-booked, penalty-denied and goal-starved wunderkind, Grealish's foot for a crisp volley into the onion bag?
Made me forget the Keystone Kops for their goal and the periods when we laboured like hungover punters from the Nag's Head on a Sunday morning. Why I'd travel 4000 miles to watch that!
