By Ron Walker, Sky Sports Digital Football Journalist

“Why did we get up at 6am for a three-hour bus journey to watch a game we’re definitely going to lose?”

None of me and a few school friends on the supporters’ coach to Selhurst Park could come up with an answer beyond blind hope. But that was enough.

Bristol City had been on a fairytale ride in their first season back in the second tier in eight years. But after topping the table at the end of March, they faded badly to settle for fourth spot and a two-legged date with play-off cheat code Neil Warnock and his Crystal Palace side, who had ended the season like a steam train.

The odds were, to put it lightly, not in our favour. But it was a beautiful day for football. Just as it always seems to be in the play-offs. Perfect pitch, blazing sunshine, the old away section next to the Holmesdale.

The first half was a typical play-off chess match. Plenty of probing but no knock-out blows. We went in at the break wondering if a classic half-time Warnock speech would do for us. Something about enjoyment and discipline, perhaps?

The most improbable of scorers saw to that. Centre-back Louis Carey, who would go onto become our record appearance maker, turned into prime Alan Shearer to hook a free-kick routine dubbed the ‘weasel’, a favourite of Gary Johnson’s, beyond Julian Speroni for a fine opener.

The joy was unbounded but soon turned to nerves. On the pitch as much as off it, clearly. Three minutes from time, Bradley Orr and goalkeeper Adriano Basso got in an entirely unnecessary tangle before Carey brought down Jose Fonte amid the confusion. A blatant penalty, confidently dispatched by Ben Watson.

The hardest part was trying to convince yourself a draw was still a great result to take back to Ashton Gate. Fortunately, any delusion was shortlived.

Two minutes into added time, midfielder David Noble picked up the ball 30 yards out and, later admitting he was too tired to run any further, used his second touch to hit one of the sweetest strikes you will ever see past Speroni to win it.

I have never hugged so many sweaty bald men in all my life. And until we do make it to the Premier League, I’m not sure anything will beat the euphoria of that finale.