Well, it’s certainly been a while since we did this, but as my Grandad said to me back in 1999 – “Chris, if you ever get into app-based sports writing, always be sure to leave it nearly two months between your third and fourth pieces.” And who am I to floutthe words of the bloke who impressed on me so much that I followed his footsteps down the long, winding and occasional turbulent road of supporting Chelsea Football Club?
As I said in that nonsensical introduction, itâs been a quiet two months from me, but blimey, what a couple of months for the club! Weâve seen our defence forget who Frank Lampard is and what it is he does by allowing him to waltz into the box unmarked, late as ever, and slot home, Diego Costa and Cesc Fabregas, despite looking like Oscarâs evil older brother and the concierge of a Mediterranean resort hotel respectively, have taken to life at Chelsea even better than Paul Scholes has taken to being a rent-a-quote for anyone with a cheque book and Iâve finally decided that Jose Mourinho vs the cadaver in a good suit that is Arsene Wenger isnât in fact a fight Iâd like to witness.
Anyway, there comes the time in every articleâs life that itâs given a point. An objective. A direction, if you will. Well here goes. With plenty of people singing our praises, Iâve chosen not to gush at you about how nice it is to see Oscar play well in a middle three, or bore you with talk of our favourable 3:1 ratio of goals scored to conceded in the league, Iâve instead tasked myself with being the one to try and pour some scorn on our two months at the top.
So, here we are. Prepare yourselves for some barrel scraping.
Yes weâre top of the league, undefeated and seemingly flying, but we donât feel invincible, in fact, far from it â lucky to draw against City, poor against both Schalke and Sporting Lisbon and yet to be really frustrated by a strong defensive side â easily where we were at our worst last season (special mention has to go to Crystal Palace here, who, along with the help of Cesc, failed to nullify us). The Man City and Schalke games were especially frustrating; the former because it showed that weâve lost the ability to win a losing game and the latter because it showed how we still have the ability to lose a winning game. But, aside from those, itâs actually quite hard to criticise our performances or single out any weak links. Iâm struggling.
Even off the field Iâm limited. Itâd be nice to try add a bit of narrative to the âbattle between the sticksâ but beside some slightly over the top âno YOU have a great game!â twitter exchanges all seems well in that part of the camp. Damn. Usually having reached this point and discovering all is lost, I can rely on our âCaptain, Leader, Legendâ to throw the cat (himself) amongst the pigeons (other professional footballers), but itâs really come to something when, because of Joséâs dictatorial control over the clubâs media presence, weâre forced to believe even John Terry has been behaving himself.
And well, thatâs it. Thatâs all Iâve got, I mean when youâre only criticism is âwe donât quite feel invincibleâ itâs probably time to get a grip and just enjoy it. To try and complain about a couple of draws, a slightly below par 0-1 victory away in Portugal and that our two world class goalkeepers donât hate each other, is clutching at straws somewhat. Overall slightly annoying, because I love a good moan.
The dark side of winning.
So sorry that, unlike my absence, my attempt at realism was short-lived, I tried my best to avoid sycophancy, but, to be honest, thereâs little else to do at the moment other than sit back and just bloody love it. Perhaps that explains my hiatus from you wonderful people; sounds more poetic than âmy laptop broke,â anyway.
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