FOREST fans all smiles despite a defeat, Nicolas Jackson underlining his sudden goal streak with the Chelsea winner… it certainly was a strange old day at the City Ground.

One they will look back on with golden memories in years to come…but one which ended in the home side losing.

And one Chelsea supporters will recall as a rare occasion when they were left to hail Jackson as a matchwinning hero, rather than chance-blowing blunderer.

Yet one when ultimately you can forget the scoreboard, forget the scorers and forget the performance.

Events nearly 150 miles south at the London Stadium, long before kick off here, already meant none of that REALLY mattered.

Okay, strictly speaking Forest’s survival isn’t officially guaranteed yet. They could still be overhauled by Luton on the final day.

But in reality they are safe. They knew it when news filtered through that West Ham had beaten the Hatters and they were still three points ahead.

Barring a massive goal difference turnaround – and Forest play relegated Burnley – they will be in the Premier League next year.

Their fans knew it before the men in red even emerged for the warm-up. That’s when the party started.

And not even Jackson – the striker who has turned fluffed finishes into an art form – was going to see any corks shoved back into bottles with his late headed winner yesterday.

There was almost a collective “so what” shrug around the place when he did, nodding in Reece James’ perfect delivery.

A “so what” feel about having to wait a week before they could officially confirm survival. As far as these fans are concerned, the job is already done…and they are right.

From mid-afternoon, everywhere you looked around this famous old stadium, all you could see were smiles and celebrations.

Stewards punching the air, fans of an age they really should know better dancing like drunken uncles and aunties at a wedding…it was majestic mayhem.

And after a season of sackings and sanctions, of docked points and returned ones, and that fearful flirtation with the drop, who could blame them?

A morning of squeaky bums had become an evening of cavorting chaos…and nothing was ever going to stop these lot from making merry.

Not even when Chelsea did their best to p*** on the fireworks by gatecrashing the party with the opening goal. Or when Jackson nicked it late on.

No surprise, either, when their first came from the creative genius Cole Palmer, the man whose golden touch has lit up the entire Premier League.

Once again Chelsea’s King Midas came up with a how-did-he-see that moment to slide an eye-of-the-needle ball behind Gonzalo Montiel.

Winger Mykhailo Mudryk was on the same wavelength and made sure Palmer’s pass got the clinical finish it deserved.

Thank goodness it wasn’t Jackson, you thought, when Palmer sent him racing clear…only for the Senegal striker to blow it.

Mind you, he had some serious competition in the dropped clanger ranks yesterday. Let’s just say Chris Wood has enjoyed more fruitful afternoons.

Before any of that, though, Forest were level when Morgan Gibbs-White dinked a free kick to the far post and Willy Boly’s header clipped Conor Gallagher’s toe en route to the corner.

They had chances aplenty of their own to win it, too. Most of which seemed to fall to Wood. And most of which were fluffed.

None more than the over-the-bar rebound from two feet when Gibbs-White’s header came back off the upright.

An awkward height for the Forest striker, admittedly. But it was from two feet…and somehow ended up clearing the bar by around five times that distance.

Callum Hudson-Odoi went a whole lot closer, with a magnificently creative curler that struck the crossbar.

But clearly he was just getting his eye in because with 15 minutes left he cut in from the left, curled again with his right foot…and this time buried his effort just inside the corner.

A goal worthy of winning any occasion and you thought it was going to do just that. Chelsea – and substitute Raheem Sterling – felt otherwise.

Indeed, it was almost a case of anything you can do, I can do better when, with just ten to go, he stepped in from the left and whipped into the corner.

Honours even, then. Well actually, not for long – and how ironic that Jackson should be the one who ensured it. A crazy, crazy evening indeed….