2007-8

I'm doing a video blog, or vlog on You Tube where I address camera about every match and post it up there. It takes an eternity to post the bloody things and they look as if they've been shot in a night club (whereas in fact they're on my landing, draped with a few posters and flags) but it's good fun (if slightly self indulgent)I will post em up here when I can grasp the technology.

here's the URL

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o3FaH6FzkAU

Here are a few past diary entries.

2005 SEASON

Cfc v Bolton Friday 14th October

Wonderful sunny day despite inept weatherman on Thursday suggesting it would be wet and that was the end of the Indian Summer. Cycled down to the Bridge despite having a bad chest. Old Mr Sol was just above the West Stand for nearly all the game, forcing us all to hold our hands up to shield the unaccustomed rays. The large bald man in front of me went a rather deep pink colour, but perhaps he was already veering that way.

Ah the sheer joy of being a Cfc supporter in the year 2005. They are truly remarkable. As is their brilliantly gifted manager, the Handsome Gum Chewer himself Jose of the special instinctive substitutions and tactical formations. We were struggling against Bolton who had a good fixed plan that they played to with much gusto in the first half. They always do. It involves hitting long balls into the box and waiting for flick ons or nurdles or duff clearances or scuffed shots or whatever because they challenge for every ball extremely physically and have several mountain men in their side like the Shrek like NGotty and Davies and Pedersen (although he was so granite he was replaced by Gardner because Wright-Phillips skinned him repeatedly down the right wing). When I say we were struggling, I mean not having it our own way. We tend not to struggle. Coz we are the Chels. We were still good, but were instantly on the back foot as they scored after four minutes when a beautiful pass by the erratic Diouf found Stelios (it evaded the 'at fault' Del Horno who the man behind me calls 'Del Boy'. I say 'at fault' coz no one was really 'at fault' but he possibly should have cut it out). Bolton, who although threatening with their rumbustious style, in the first half did in fact only have two shots at goal, one which was the goal itself, (beautifully dinked over Cech) and the other a speculative slam by Gary Speed from thirty yards, which hit the cross bar, (creating a babble of conversation all round the ground) and oh yes there was also a header from Speed again that landed on the net. Other than that, Bolton as usual against us (and in fact against everyone else) defended in depth and hit long passes to Diouf on the wing and lobbed large high crosses into the goal area that goalie Cech had difficulty dealing with as he was one of six players going for the ball. 'He's not very good today' said Carrie. Although to be fair he was having to punch at the ball through a forest of white and blue shirts. The man behind me who had started his enthusiastic peculiar strangled 'Yeahs' every time Cfc got the ball for the first fifteen minutes (he sounded slightly high pitched and restricted, as if he was gulping down a fish) had been gradually reduced to silence. We had had one goal disallowed for offside, (Drogba did his ususal indignant huffy wander over to the linesman holding the ball, as if showing said sphere to the official would somehow get him to change his decision, for which he was booked) and Super Frank just failed to get on the end of another Wright-Phillips centre and cursed himself for his wayward lunge. Other than that and several other easily saved shots by the keeper, we were frustrated by the Bolton boys, much to the glee of their effervescent supporters in the corner of the Shed End, who have been rightly emasculated by their removal to this part of the ground. When they were below us they had far more presence. This is probably why the decision was made to move them.

I waited with baited breath to see what Ye Handsome One could come up with in the second half. This is his skill you see. He does what all great managers do. He makes a difference after half time. Michael in the bar confirmed the stereotype of being the Man Who Watches a Totally Different Game from Everyone Else by criticising Carvalho for being dreadful and why was he always picked and why didn't Jose play Johnson and put Gallas in the middle. Carvalho of course was his usual excellent self. He is a great player. Michael appears to be the only person who hasn't noticed that Johnson wasn't even picked for the under 21s this week and has been so bad that he isn't getting onto the subs bench.

So. The second half. The sun was still beaming down at all of us reducing me to a tee shirt and jeans man as I reluctantly stuffed my smart Boss jacket and sweatshirt under the seat. We saw the Special One's plan unveil. Gudjohnson started the second half. Del Horno, possibly the victim of his 4th minute error, but more likely the obvious person to be sacrificed, was subbed. We played three at the back and four up front. We were marvellous. Superb. Supreme. Attack attack.- Attack attack attack. It made sense. 'Boring boring Chelsea? The BBC?' No effing way mate. Bolton hadn't really attacked much. They were making the 1-0 their score and holding it together relying on the break. The Gumchewer's boldness was rewarded. SuperFrank's biffed free kick swatted in on the rebound by Didier Drogba who is 20 times the player he was last year. That was 51 mins. Then Super Frank, the hero of the England game during the week, clubbed one into the corner after an excellent backheel from Didier who I am beginning to love, despite having agreed with the Tango Man in front of me (he visits the sun bed frequently) last year that he was a donkey. Then Gardner the Bolton defender, was sent off for deliberate hand ball. From the free kick, as Ferreira lurked to be substitute to revert to four at the back, Super Frank lashed in as the wall disintegrated. Then Didier Drog scored again, volleying into the top corner from a Super Frank corner. Four goals in nine minutes. Game Well and Truly Over. Around us we all had bets as to who would score next. Lynn won by saying it would be Gudj. A trademark Eidur goal, firing right footed across the keeper from the left hand side of the goal area. The curly haired chortling man in front of Lynn shook her hand. I loudly asked for one more goal each from Didier and Super Frank. 'That'll make it 7-1' said the grey haired chap in front to my left. 'Don't be greedy!' Everyone laughed despite it not being at all funny. Carlton Cole came on for his first game of the season and was not out of place. All in all.a superb second half performance. 'That's why we're champions' we sung. 'Top of the league, taking the piss' was also arrogantly heard from the Matthew Harding Stand, even though at that stage we possibly were a bit. 'Yeah' said the strangled voice behind me now paper thin but back to its best. 'This is the BBC.' I said to Lynn. She laughed! Ah bliss.

Wigan v Cfc Sunday 14th August

New season. New players. Del Horno at full back who looked a bit tentative. Wright Philips at right wing who lost the ball a lot. No room for Carvalho. Dunno why coz he's a great player. Though Gallas and Terry is a great partnership. Last year Carvalho played a lot coz Gallas was forced to play left back due to everyone being injured. No chance of that this year with the huge squad. All the positions are covered. Essein possibly coming from Lyon in the longest off/on transfer saga ever known. But all thoughts really on the magnificent performance of our boys.... in the Ashes. Football is having to take second place!

Wigan are just up from the Championship and should really roll over and put all four legs in the air whilst waving a white flag. They've got a few new experienced players from the Premiership including De Zeeuw from Portsmouth and Francis from Norwich but there should be no contest. We have Robben and Duff together and fit for the first time since Blackburn kicked the nimble footed Dutchman off the pitch after his magnificent goal. He looks different. Carrie says he's had a hair transplant. But then he did always have the hair of a forty five year old. Lynn said there's a theory doing the rounds that Mourinho rewards his boys with whores if they do well. Err.I don't think so rumourmongers!

Great view in the JJB stadium. Unbelievably loud tannoy and a rash of small teenage girls in sky blue tights and pompoms who appear to know about four steps, but do them with great swagger. The pre match entertainment is a rather good opera singer doing a terrific Nessun Dorma which is applauded to the roof tops. He surprises us after his perfect Italian by clearly coming from Leeds.



We are crap in the game, looking complacent and tired. Super Frank is a shadow of his former ebullient self and is constantly caught in possession. The man in the blue sweatshirt next to me tells me it's because his heart is big (physically!) and he needs a few weeks to get to match fitness. Regardless of a large aorta he is not the Frank we know and love who won the Footballer of the Year last year. Robben keeps losing the ball. Though had he scored with a nifty lob early on, Wigan would've ve been chasing the game and it would've been a different story. Ferreira as bad as he was this time last year, tho he did improve as the season went on to become superb. Duff not good. He worries me. He's lost his ability to beat anybody. You'd've thought Drogba would've been excellent after his performance last week against the Arse when he scored twice in the Community Shield. But no. He was so bad he started doing what he did last year when he couldn't make an impression, which was to fall over for no apparent reason and look imploringly at the bench. Cole came on in the second half for the poor Gudjohnson and was excellent. And then Crespo appeared with a point to prove and ran about like a scalded cat. We didn't look as if we were going to score and they did, once hitting the bar, and of course their supporters became noisily incredulous and started going mad at the prospect of holding the Champions. And then possibly beating them! The din was remarkable and annoying. And then of course Crespo conjoured up the winner from twenty yards with his left foot swirler, after Drogba had nodded on. The only good thing he did all game. We went berserk (as did the players) but I partied despite myself. We'd got out of jail. We were rubbish. We looked as if we had no plan and tended to aimlessly keep possession in our own half, and were rightly roundly whistled and jeered by the Wigan fans. I mean naturally Wigan played six across the middle and relied on quick breaks, but we just looked feeble and knackered. Which can't be the case as it's the first game! Afterwards I heard a Wigan fan say that there was nothing they could do about the goal which was world class. This was true, but bloody hell. We almost lost to a team that must surely go down. I found watching unbelievably irritating. In front of me was a boy of thirteen with his brother and Dad. The boy, I kid you not, didn't stop singing and gesticulating at the Wigan fans for the whole ninety minutes. He actually started off several songs and chants. 'Stand up for the Champions' was his. He stood up (which was his normal position for the whole game though I encouraged him to be seated as much as I could) and rasped it in an about-to-break adolescent squeak.. His brother stood up, his huge fat father stood up, his arms resembling a crucifix, a short stout bald man stood up, and then the whole of the stand where we were, stood up. He was very pleased. A pubescent 'Carefree' dribbled from his lips and was slowly picked up until everyone was storming it. His father attempted to start Blue Flag and Spot a lot and frequently had no success but would gamely sing them right through to the end often completely on his own. The boy had an unfortunate habit of half crouching and saying 'Fuck off' at the Wigan supporters to our left whilst flashing a grubby vee sign with small stubby fingers. And yet when I told him I couldn't see, whenever he stood up, he would disarmingly apologize. I'm not going so far North again. (This is of course bollox.)

Keith and I met his friend Steve and briefly went into 'The Wacky Pub' just by the ground which was packed with fans. A balloon shaped man put his hands on our shoulders as we were queing at the bar and said in a broad cockney : 'You deserve it mate. We didn't deserve it. We were shite.' I agreed with him but corrected him on his presumption we were Wigan. 'We're Chelsea like you' I said. Within seconds he had told us his wife of 23 years had left him and gone off with a Lesbian. He wasn't joking. 'If only I was a fanny magnet?' he mused. 'Then I could get my own back on her.' But he wasn't and he wouldn't.

Cfc v The Arse 20th August

Second game of the season. The Gooners defended! They sat back. Both sides were a bit tentative. Crespo ran about a lot but Toure had him in his pocket so Drogba came on and although clearly not as mobile as the Argentinian, scared Arsenal centre back Senderos shitless. Drogba duley scored completely accidentally as befits his donkey like nature at the moment with the ball hitting him on the shin from a Lampard cross and wrong footing the acerbic Lehmann. He should have scored a much easier chance a few minutes later when he had to choose to do one of two things a)lob the goalie b0 drive it along the ground past him. He chose c) Hit the ball neatly into his chest. But once again the chance was only created by Senderos freaking out and presenting it to Drogba on a plate. Del Horno looked a bit better at left back but all a tad sluggish. Frank not up to speed yet. BUT WE WON and beat the Gooners for the first time in the League for 16 games. Afterwards Wenger complained about the directness of the football. But WE WON. I'm in a new seat and am next to Lynn on my left which is fine, but unfortunately next to a fattish man with a shaven head on my left who says very little. I introduced myself and learnt he's Jeff, but he dosen't respond to any of the teasers I send his way like 'What do you think of Del Horno?' or 'Where wwere you sitting before?' ice breakers that got 'Ok' and 'Here' as responses. His son the other side of him is a spouter of opinion and he talks to him. But to me. De nada. it worries me that this man may be here for several years and we will hardly pass a word.

Cfc v WBA 24th August

WBA manager Bryan Robson signalled his attitude to this game by not playing his leading strikers Horsefield and Earnshaw as he was apparently saving them for the game versus Birmingham at the weekend. The Baggies as they're known were poor and we correspondingly drubbed em 4-0 and it could have been many more. Essien the new signing was outstanding. He's a tank and a very quick runner. No wonder Tiago's been sold to Lyon. I like the fact that all the players we thought weren't very good have been sold or are on-loan. Tiago is off, the strange Kezman who couldn't control the ball is gone to Spain, and the lanky Jarosik is at Birmingham with ex Cfc Forsell and Melchiot. A stroll this one. Frank got 2 and was back to his best and celebrated the birth of his baby by doing that swinging the infant celebrationthat Brazilian did after he'd scored during the World Cup. Essien had two scorchers blocked. Top of the league.

Spurs v Cfc 27th August

I predicted a 3-0 win for us with my Spurs mates in the Greasy Spoon we met in before the game (I had an omelette). I was a goal away from that on a day where we were playing wonderfully in the Ashes. The Spurs fans were boisterous and bumptious convinced they were going to win for the first time in thirty games and made a huge din and to be fair had us defending by the edge of our shorts for the first twenty minutes, baying for every foul or throw or tackle or anything really. So much indignation because the linesman gives a throw to the opposition. Wow! But then Mido the Spurs centreforward rushed at the ebullient and excellent Del Horno and thwacked him in the side of the face. Ref Rob Styles red carded instantly and Mido, tearful, dribbled off the pitch praying to the God of unfairness and will probably have an extra match added to his ban for his tortoise like exit. From then on it was sort of inevitable the Blues would win. Del Horno headed in his first for Chelsea from a Frank corner (William Gallas in attendance just in case it needed a nudge) and the Duffer kneed/chested a Wright Philips cross in to make it two. Seanie Wright Wright Wright as the fans chant for him, was terrific, and Crespo almost had two the instant he replaced Drogba, running like a mad thing to connect with two swerving crosses and forcing Robinson to make two excellent saves. We were efficient and in control. Four in a row. Werhay.

ps sat behind a man with the bushiest eyebrows I've ever seen and the worst vision. A Cfc player would kick the ball out and he'd shout out 'What you doin lino? Chelsea ball!'when it so obviously wasn't. As you can imagine this became utterly tedious after about three minutes and I yeaned he would spontaneously self combust which of course he didn't.

Click here to read selected moments from my 2004-2005 season diary >>

Click here to read selected moments from my 2003-2004 season diary >>

Click here to visit the Chelsea FC web site >>