Chelsea…They’ll never let you down
It’s disorientating when a momentous event happens while you are away from anything remotely resembling a 24 hours rolling news service. My Parents were in Canada when 9/11 happened and they now equate the epoch making event with a free extra weeks holiday, although a week is long enough to see everything in Vancouver.
Now, in the week Chelsea began the inevitable return to their rightful place, I was left with BBC world to keep me up to date. I’m sure you’ve all experienced the delights of BBC world, in order to maintain a sense of well-being in the world, the BBC have created a channel which takes the dullest most pointless news stories and interviews and repeat them through the day. The point is, I think, to lull you into a pleasant holiday stupor…relax, enjoy yourself, there’s nothing to worry about anywhere else.
Somebody ballsed up, along the strap line at the bottom came the bombshell, Mourinho out at Chelsea!
Whoa!
The evening before I’d been faintly amused by Chelsea being held by Norwegian part-timers, but in truth I’d been more concerned about Plymouth at home and having to wait two days to get a paper and the score. This year I’d steeled myself not to use the phone, the £100 bill for monitoring a nil-nil draw against Tranmere a few years back had been a harsh lesson on the cost of using your WAP abroad.
But now I need to know, could it be true, the last vestige of humanity, humour and entertainment, finally stripped from the Hotel Football team?
Despite the BBC’s attempts to keep me in the dark, I piece the story together and it was true, Chelsea had finally lost patience with their most successful manager ever. The one nagging, annoying sense of approval you felt when Chelsea was mentioned had been removed. I felt a strange elation.
Friday’s (well Thursdays when you are stuck on a mountainside in Italy) papers brought confirmation and detail. Roman had a toy’s out of the pram moment and finally despatched Mourinho, although the words mutual were being used I suspect when you are a Russian Billionaire your dictionary definitions are a little skewed.
Back in blighty and Sunday’s papers bring more to the table, The Observer went to town. I suspect they are one of the papers that Chelsea and John Terry are going to sue, but frankly I like their story and until the truth is revealed its the one I’m going with.
There’s little doubt that Terry and Mourinho had a spat, I’m no fan of Terry, he’s an adequate centre back who’s ability has been inflated by idiot pundits and playing next to proper defenders like Carvalho. I think Mourinho was coming round to my way of thinking. Terry had recently negotiated a ridiculous contract making him the highest paid premiership player and a clause that guaranteed him parity with any superstar that arrived at Chelsea. One of the Observers claims was that he’d also demanded an option to manage at the end of his career and had started his badges…Chelsea are moneydumb, but even they laughed out loud at this one.
The story goes that Mourinho had the temerity to question Terry’s performance and part in their opponents goal during a fractious half time on Tuesday night. Terry like the man he is, whined and then pretended not to listen. Rumours persist that after Mourinho leaves the dressing room, Roman pops in to instruct Essien on where he should be passing the ball! For anyone with even a passing interest in seeing Chelsea in turmoil this is fantastic.
The next part, I believe, is the most disputed. Terry, if we believe these reports, goes running to Roman saying that nasty Jose is going to take his ball away. This is the final straw, despite having won two championships, Fa and Mickey Mouse, sorry Carling cups the Russian is no fool and he’d finally realised that he’d not bought Arsenal…Mourinho must go!
When you have that much money you don’t get your hands dirty, fortunately close at hand is the increasingly toad like gargoyle, Peter Kenyon. Kenyon, to be played by an exhumed Peter Lorre in any future film (the smell is similar I’m told), slimes over to Mourinho and lays down Roman’s law. Then releases a press release that back tracks on virtually everything he’d told the press over the last year or so. Nothing new there then!
I’m savouring every minute of this, next up…the replacement, the man who is going to bring champagne football to the bridge…Avram Grant! Oh lovely, the man who made ‘one nil to the Is-ra-el’ a fact. This must be a temporary measure or is JT pulling the strings?
If your trust of paper reports still holds, there is deep unrest in the ranks, some players, new in, only signed to play for Mourinho, some, despite trying to get out of Chelsea are now openly praising Jose…c’mon Didier get your story straight and some like Frank Lampard have just seen their money-spinning move green lit! So it would appear that Terry has a job on his hands if he is to turn this runaway train around.
They didn’t get off to a particularly auspicious start, a fairly flat trip to Old Trafford; admittedly the ref didn’t help them, but who cares. They booed Roman in and every shot of him framed the Emperor with a succession of international managers, all awaiting his lucrative call. The new Chelsea were defined, I hope, by Joe Cole’s lunge to hack Ronaldo down and the last ten minutes where the increasingly hapless on field ‘leader’ Terry let his thuggish inclinations take over as he tried to intimidate Ronaldo and Rooney in turn. Unless you are a nightclub bouncer with your back to the England captain, I’m not sure it works John. It’s at this moment I realise who Terry has replaced in the national conscious. I’m sure he thought himself the new Bobby Moore when the England captaincy was unwisely bestowed upon him, but I’m convinced that in every possible way, John Terry is the new Martin Keown.
The best thing about these last few days is that It’s been a little light relief from our own little soap opera. It’s also a cautionary tale about the vagaries of money coming into a club. While I hope we never become as desperate, grasping and seedy as Chelsea we should be prepared for a rocky road to a hopefully brighter future.
It is my heart-felt desire that we pass Chelsea going the other way!
Rogue Male
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