FRESH as the new year itself, Aston Villa gave Dr Jozef Venglos just the start to 1991 he asked for.

Goals from David Platt removed at two strokes the tightening pressure on Villa for points to separate them from the stragglers.

But even more satisfying for the good doctor were the signs that Villa at last are beginning to forget the nightmare of San Siro Stadium.

Just in time, too, with two taxing Cup ties upon them.

lt was by accident perhaps that the defeat of Palace coincided with the full introduction of two understudies to Villa Park this season, goalkeeper Lee Butler and Dwight Yorke.

Butler, replacing Nigel Spink, an influenza victim, three times acted with presence of mind to deny a team of the pace, aggression and resilience to have deservedly beaten Liverpool two days previously.

And Yorke, a natural footballer if ever I saw one, will make much of the God-given abilities of touch and timing.

While the injured Tony Daley's pace would be missed by any team in the world, Yorke's footwork will ensure that eventually there has to be Villa first-team places for both.

Yet, as ever with Villa this season, it was Platt or nothing in scoring terms.

Without his contribution, the statistics make gruesome reading. A Prime Minister has resigned and the world's armies have assembled since a forward last scored a League goal, on October 8. For all that Tony Cascarino looked happier with Yorke beside him, neither the Irish international nor lan Ormondroyd had a shot at goal.

So it was Platt who capitalised on his commanding midfield partnership with Gordon Cowans.

Platt went on fewer hopeful runs upfield, freeing Cowans to move further forward and strike telling passes where they hurt the opposition.

It was Cowans, therefore, who was in position on the right wing to roll Platt's pass into the path of Chris Price.

The full back went into his dashing tiptoe through the tulips act only to be cut down by John Salako in the Palace area after 47 minutes.

Platt scored his sixth penalty goal this season with a drive straight down the fairway as Nigel Martyn flung himself to his right.

The second was equally simple and very much the result of a good football brain.

Like a line of chorus girls, the whole Palace team moved forward in the 88th minute as Lee Butler thumped the ball from his hands.

Platt, though, was in full stride running in the opposite direction. Few do this kind of thing better than the England man, who coolly ran up to Martyn and touched the ball round him to collect his 14th goal of the season.