The Road To Munich Is Paved With Blue Intentions

In every person’s life, there will come a time where fate will force him to choose between 2 paths. A wrong choice, or inaction to move, often results in that moment being seared permanently into his memory, occasionally rewinding and replaying itself as a haunting reminder of what could have been. Many, many years later and there he would be, lying on his deathbed, wishing so hard for that one chance, that one opportunity to go back in time to that precise moment, to take the other path, and wonder how different things would have panned out.

If you are a Chelsea fan, and you failed to watch the semi-final showdown between Barcelona and Chelsea in the wee hours of this morning, this match would have been THAT ‘moment’ I was referring to.  

 

To call it a mere ‘football match’ would be an insult to the blood, sweat and tears that were shed by the Blue Army who walked into the Nou Camp as men but came out as warriors. To label this morning’s clash as anything other than ‘pure epic’ would be an understatement of seismic proportions.

When an embattled Chelsea held on to a shock 1-0 home win at Stamford Bridge last week, the footballing world held its breath. Silently, and almost in a whisper, they wondered whether a chink in the previously thought of to be impenetrable armor had been found. Suddenly, the notion of an underdog being able to halt the previously unstoppable march of an all-conquering Barcelona began to take root in some minds.

Still, there were the doubters; the so-called football experts, the purists, the anti-English football brigade, etc. Many were still cynical of Chelsea’s chances, wondering if the victory at the Bridge may have been a fluke. Here was a club who was, up until recently, in turmoil. Having sacked their bright young manager, and then being managed by a caretaker-manager on an interim basis, with the older players coming under increasing criticisms for their decreased athletic prowess and the younger, newer ones being criticized for not being able to gel as a team yet, no one had expected Chelsea to reach this far.  

So it was safe for many to have assumed that the attacking might and prowess of the colossal Barcelona, being reigning World Club Cup champions, being reigning La Liga champions and being reigning UEFA Champions League champions, would effortlessly sweep aside any plucky resistance by that long-ball team from London who could only “park the bus”.  But surely they couldn’t do that for a full 90 minutes, could they?

And so it was a bloodbath to be. The stage was set. The electrifying atmosphere of the Nou Camp was comprised of a rambunctious bunch of proud Catalans out for a good night where their team was expected to run rings around the hapless Englishmen and teach those barbarians how to play ‘real’ football.

If the build-up to this game had already been so nerve-wrecking, it got amplified by a couple hundred times more when the kick-off whistle blew and Barca got into their tiki-taka groove. Wave after wave of Catalan attack, led by Messi, lapped at the compact and tight Blue shore.

Before Chelsea had time to settle into the rhythm of the match, misfortune hit them hard in the face: the solid Gary Cahill pulled up his hamstring and could not continue. With David Luiz out injured, there was no replacement centreback. Ivanovic was drafted into that position from the right whilst Bosingwa was called into action to replace his right back slot.

The makeshift defence finally cracked after the 200^th million Barcelona attack when a cutback by Cuenca wrong-footed the entire Chelsea defence, leaving an unmarked Sergio Busquets to tap in from close range. The dam, as was feared, was broken. Barcelona had drawn level on aggregate goals. 1 more and Chelsea would have been knocked out.

And then, out of nowhere, the inevitable happened. A straight red was shown to captain John Terry for an off-the-ball incident with Alexis Sanchez. Admittedly, Terry raised his knee into Sanchez’s back from behind, but Sanchez fell faster than a sack of bricks into the river. Pandemonium amongst the players almost ensued as an enraged Terry refused to leave the pitch. Another Barca-Chelsea game, another scandal, another red card. Chelsea appeared to be conforming to some warped tradition.

It was then that the leaders amongst men emerged. Petr Cech took calm control of the situation, and John Terry’s shoulders, and reasoned with his Captain to walk out of the pitch quietly. The older heads of Drogba, Lamps and Cole kept the level of discipline in check and made sure the game continued. JT may be the overtly alpha male amongst the players, but we witnessed the natural quiet leadership of the other older players emerge. As they say, the true test of a man’s character lies in times of distress.

Barca was like a hungry shark who just smelt the blood of a wounded sea creature. It pounced for the kill and got a deserved 2^nd goal when an exquisitely timed through pass from Messi found the feet of Iniesta who calmly slid the ball past a hapless Cech.

As the scores stood, it was essentially game over. With a man down, being your Captain at that too, with no natural centrebacks and chasing a 1 goal from the world’s best team at their fortress of a home ground, there was no way in Hell that Chelsea would be able to pull off a great escape. It was probably written in the stars to have been a Barcelona victory, but someone forgot to read the script to the Chelsea players.

Even if someone did, the Chelsea players defiantly tore up the script and started writing their own story into the fast unfolding drama when, against the run of play, a quick counter-attack saw Lampard releasing Ramires down the left side of the Barca box. A coolly taken chip over the on-rushing Valdes later saw Ramires doing a mini celebratory samba dance by the touchline moments later. Chelsea had amazingly pulled a goal back!

Unbelievable stuff. It was merely moments before halftime. From out of nowhere, the hardworking Brazillian had pulled a Houdini-like move to switch the tides around so that the handcuffs were now on Barca’s wrists. Suddenly, it dawned upon all that Chelsea would be going through on away goals if they can keep the score the same for just another 45 minutes. All hope was not lost.

But then again, 45 minutes is a long time. Against any other normal team with 10 men against 11, 45 minutes may already feel like a decade. Against a rampant Barcelona team desperate to get to the Finals, it must’ve felt like 45 millenniums.

Second half rolled around and it was as jittery as you can get on an old roller-coaster without the safety bar on. The way Barcelona attacked suggested that something was about to give way. And give way it did only 2 minutes into the 2^nd half. Drogba clumsily tackled Fabregas in the box and the ex-Gunner cheat gave his best impression of an Ashley Young to earn Barca a penalty! Up stepped player of the year, and according to Pele the greatest of all time, Lionel Messi to take the spotkick. Surely this must be the thrust of a matador’s sword into the bull’s head. My balls were in my throat at that exact moment.

In what would be the turning point of the game, Messi contrived to crash his powerful shot against the crossbar! Chelsea was spared. Suddenly, they had renewed hope that perhaps, and just maybe, they were meant to be in the Finals. Diametrically opposite to Chelsea’s growing confidence was the growing sense of deflation and frustration amongst Barcelona players as they buzzed about the Chelsea box trying to find a way to unlock the Blue door that remained as tight as a virgin.

 Chelsea kept the shape, chased after space and closed down every Barca attack channel in such typical Italian catenaccio fashion that its pioneers must be smiling and giving the thumbs up from within their door-bolted-dead-shut coffins.

They say heroes are born when times are at its worst. In the 2^nd half, the collective motley crew of Cech, Cole, Bosingwa, Ivanovic, Meireles, Drogba, Mikel, Lampard, Ramires and Kalou emerged as heroes of might and valour. They played as one and defended as if the lives of their unborn grandchildren depended on it. Drogba even impressed in his makeshift role as a leftback as he launched many counter-attacks from the leftback position.

As the minutes grew, so did the hopes of Chelsea and the fear of the Catalans at being knocked out. When your best player can’t score from the penalty spot and you can’t break down a team with one man down and no natural centrebacks, you sometimes wonder whether it is just not your day after all.

With the clock striking at 80^th minute, Di Matteo threw the ultimate curveball gamble. Earlier, he had replaced Mata with Kalou, which given the circumstances was a natural choice as he needed fresh legs from a fast and strong player to replace a technically gifted but not so physical one. However, his final substitution was akin to flipping a coin and betting on it landing on its neither sides. Drogba was replaced by Fernando Torres.

When you are a man down, with 10 minutes to go, and desperately clinging on to a lead, logic dictates that you should throw in a defensive minded player to at least offer some extra protection to your tired players. Di Matteo did the complete opposite by throwing on an out-and-out striker who is struggling for form to even score, at left back. At that exact moment, Di Matteo was either a complete idiot or a goddamn genius.

10 minutes later, in the dying embers of the game, Di Matteo proved to be the latter. A hopeless stray clearance into the Barca half, amongst the millions Chelsea had launched aimlessly the whole night, somehow found an unmarked Torres. In a blink of an eye, the Spaniard had galloped until he was 1-on-1 with Barca’s Victor Valdes. Some fleet-footed moves and a hop over Valdes later, Torres slotted the ball into Barca’s goal to make it 2-2. Their most vilified and taunted ‘flop’ had repaid the undying faith of a sprinkling few (yours truly included) by killing off the game when it mattered most.

 

Cue to slightly pre-mature but wildly ecstatic celebrations as Chelsea knew they had pulled off the ultimate heist. As the final whistle blew, Barca players hung their heads in disbelief while John Terry probably got down on his knees (no pun intended) and prayed in relief. Tears flowed freely (amongst both Barca and Chelsea camps but for very different emotions) and the sight of the bruised, battered and exhausted Chelsea warriors leaving the pitch was almost accompanied by an imaginary Armageddon-theme song playing in the background.  

Chelsea showed the world that Barcelona, in all their tiki-taka glory, could be beaten. Chelsea showed the world that this was possible even with your Captain getting sent off, conceding a penalty and playing with no natural centre-backs for much of the game. Chelsea taught us that having hope when all hope is lost, believing when all signs show otherwise and going down fighting with that last gasp of air may … on very rare occasions … invoke, perhaps, the slightest shred of sympathy from the Gods or forces of the Universe or aliens or whatever’s that watching over us … to compel them to give us just a slight nudge of fortune. Just that little bit to get you over the line and renew your faith in miracles.

Maybe, just maybe, there is more than just a passing truth to that old saying “you make your own breaks”. Whatever happens in the Champions League finals, whether Chelsea ends up as 1^st runner-up once again, will be another story for another day.

As far as today is concerned, the heroes in Blue deserve all the plaudits they are getting, all the praises that are heaped on them and more importantly, all the rest they can get.

Rest well, Blues Army. And may you recover well to give either Bayern or Real Madrid another hell of a fight at Munich.  

p.s. - On a slightly non-footballing point of view, I must say that Chelsea undoubtedly ranks NUMBER 1 in the world if it came to a competition of who has the HOTTEST PHYSIO ON THEIR BENCH.

I'll let the pics speak for themselves:

  

All In, Robbie. What Chelsea Must Do Now

In poker, the famous phrase used when one decides to take the ultimate gamble by going for broke is called "going all in".

That is exactly what this author believes Roberto Di Matteo must do for the Champions League this season. And forget the domestic league. Here's why.

To qualify for next season's Champions League via the domestic route, Chelsea must at least finish 4th. They will then get a shot to go through to the group stages via a knockout stage. They currently sit 6th in the league with 5 more games left to play. They trail 4th place Spurs and 5th place Newcastle by 2 points. Their remaining fixtures are away at Arsenal (this weekend), at home to QPR and then at home to Newcastle (within a span of 3 days), then travel to Liverpool before wrapping up their season at Blackburn.

Their fixtures look tough and tricky. Arsenal and Newcastle are 3rd and 5th respectively in the league and would be looking for maximum points to ensure Champions League qualification. QPR and Blackburn are embroiled in a bitter relegation scrap and would be fighting tooth and nail to avoid the drop. Then there's Liverpool, whom they would face in the FA Cup final and who are trying very hard to salvage a poor season as well.

The alternative to qualifying for next year's Champions League would be to win the goddamn thing this season. Champions automatically qualify for the next season's edition.

Fixture-wise, they are not too far away. 2 more games remain between them and the Champions League. They have played the 1st leg of the semi-finals against Barcelona and came out with a 1-0 home win. They need a minimum of a draw to go through at Nou Camp. Based on their stoic defensive display in the 1st leg, this does not seem too far a reality. Barcelona will also be careful not to concede the dreaded away goal  through a quickfire Chelsea counter-attack (which would count as 2 goals in the event of the aggregate scores being equal) so they may not commit to an all-out attacking strategy. To compound matters further for them, Barcelona face a tough and exhausting el classico against Real Madrid this weekend, where they are chasing Real's slim lead at the top of the La Liga. Barcelona clearly needs to keep an eye on each competition simultaneously.

If Chelsea does manage to overcome Barcelona, they would be facing either Real or Bayern. Both these teams are extremely tough, tactically astute as well as full of class. However, we all know how a game can turn in a span of 90 minutes when the pressure cooker is turned on full. 

As such, the 'easier' route to Champions League qualification for next season actually lie in winning it this season. 

Hopefully, Roberto Di Matteo realises this. Hopefully, Roberto Di Matteo rests all his key players (read: big, strong, burly fighters) to keep them fresh for the Barca fight. Hopefully, he does so by trusting his 2nd team and Torres to get a result against Arsenal, who are badly missing their injured midfield anchor Arteta, this weekend.

It's time Robbie realigns his priority from the league to the Champions League by going all in. Hopefully, it will pay off.

And The Dream Lives On

Perhaps it was a phone call from the Special One to his Old Guard that managed to expose the weaknesses in arguably the greatest team on the planet.

Perhaps it was a special consultation with Brendan Rodgers, i.e. the man responsible for moulding a team in the English league (Swansea) to play what you would call the closest thing to 'tiki-taka' football, that gave them a rare insight into this particular philosophy of football.

Perhaps it was one long night too many of studying in detail match recordings of the rare La Liga matches where Barca have lost.

Or perhaps Di Matteo is really a leprechaun in disguise as an Italian.

Whatever the cause, it worked. Not perfectly, not without it's flaws. But it worked. 

The entire 90 minutes may have been nervy, shaky and needed a huge slice of good fortune from Lady Luck (and also 2 timely interventions by the faithful Stamford Bridge goalpost). But achieve the improbable they did. When the final whistle blew (to the relief of yours truly), Chelsea emerged victorious against favourites Barcelona, with a clean sheet and a goal advantage, to take to Nou Camp next week.

In doing so, Chelsea became the first team this season to have beaten Barcelona in the Champions League. In doing so, Chelsea continued their unlikely rennaisance under an interim manager whose job was to supposedly just 'steady the ship' until a proper manager would be found for the Blues in summer. In doing so, Chelsea kept their faint quest for Roman's Holy Grail, i.e. landing the European Cup, alive.

True, the game is never over, especially against Barcelona, until the final whistle of the 2nd leg blows. They may well end up getting whipped in the 2nd leg by an avalanche of goals, as most teams customarily do at Nou Camp, but at least until then, the dream is still alive and kickin'.

If Chelsea can pull off what many would call the impossible next week, then there is hope yet, for the rest of the world, that the tiki-taka can be stopped.

Perhaps it is Jose who needs to have a quick word or two with his former charges as he prepares to take on Barca in the upcoming el classico then ...

Did That Cross The Line?

So I was wrong about the scoreline. (see prediction at the end of previous post)

And I've never felt more elated about getting it wrong before. 5-1 against Spurs, a team who, not so long ago, were tipped by many as dark horse to snatch the title away from the Mancunian teams. Not bad, Di Matteo.

But alas, this is not the purpose of my writing today. Nope, this post isn't a gloat about how much we comprehensively beat Spurs or how much I'm looking forward to meeting the Reds for the big Final at Wembley. 

Nope, this post is about the FIFA's warm, open-armed approach towards technology. And by open-armed, I am referring to them reaching out to technology with arms wide open, catching it, boxing it up and then proceeding to give it a Schmeichel-like punt back into the Stone Age. 

Chelsea's thumping of Spurs on Sunday was unfortunately clouded by a controversial "ghost goal" involving a Juan Mata shot which clearly did not cross the line. A goal was awarded to Chelsea by referee Martin Atkinson, wrongly. Even Blues captain John Terry later fessed up and said that he thought the goal shouldn't have been given.

Terry was right. And so were millions of Spurs fans all over the world who were crying for Atkinson's head on a plate. With ketchup and a bit of seasoning. From a Chelsea fan's point of view, this incident was unfortunate. Unfortunate because it took away the gloss from our victory. Thanks to Atkinson, Spurs fans will forever be able to whip out the "what if" card and get away with conjectures such as "Spurs may have won the FA Cup in 2012 if not for the goal that wasn't given..." 

Both Chelsea and Spurs fans would then unnecessarily launch into highly speculative (and entirely baseless) re-enactments of how the game would have played out had Chelsea not been given such a 'gift' by the ref. Given that a football game consists of infinite possible outcomes that turns on infinite possible decisions made throughout the course of 90 minutes, there is absolutely no way anyone can single out a particular moment to have a definitive bearing in the game. 

I would gladly launch into chaos theory and the butterfly effect if this was a nerd convention, but I'll just simplify it by saying that theoretically, a butterfly flapping its wings on one end of the field has the potential to cause Ashley Young to take a tumble on the opposite end of it (high probability of what transpired in United's last few games).

Back to the topic at hand, we have seen such blunders by refs all through the season. And the season before this. And the ones before that. Disallowed goals. Allowed non-goals. Wrong flagging for offside. Penalties given for Oscar-worthy play acting. The list goes on.  We've seen it happen all the time in the English game, in the Spain's Primera Liga, on the frozen pitches of Russia and even under the blistering heat of Abu Dhabi. 

It is a worldwide phenomenon which plagues in equal frequency games of non-importance all the way to games where the stakes are at its highest, at the biggest stage of all, the World Cup (USA's disallowed goal and, ironically, Lampard's 'goal-that-wasn't-given' against Germany, anyone?)

It is clear to any football spectator with half a brain that such blunders can easily be solved with technology which are available to almost all other modern sports. Goal-line technology like the one employed in court games like tennis would be able to let us know immediately if the ball had crossed the line or not. Instant replays captured by high definition cameras from all angles of the pitch would cue match officials to any offences committed by any player at any time during a match. 

Such technology are neither revolutionary nor are they in the 'experimentation' stage. Such technology have been used for quite a while now (with great measures of success) for other sports. Such technology would surely aid embattled match officials make correct calls with higher frequency. Such technology would surely put to rest all hypothetical arguments (see above) as to how matches would have turned out if only certain calls were made correctly. 

The answer is blindingly obvious and staring at the face of football like how Gennaro Gattuso would at you if you accidentally stepped on him whilst running (he is quite short after all). Yet, the dinosaurs that run FIFA have steadfastly refused to implement it in the game.

Their ridiculous answer to this: technology will kill the spirit of the game. Whatever that means.

No, Sepp Blatter. You sir, are killing the game. 

Firstly, if FIFA is going to throw around general hogwash statements like that, they had better be prepared to strip the game of all technology for the sake of consistency. 

FIFA should: 

- ban the usage of high tech dri-fit material some players wear under their jerseys for better muscle performance so that players would play in the same weight-laden-when-soaked material as their grandfathers wore;

- ban those fancy-schmancy, Cristiano Ronaldo-endorsed boots laced with so much technology you wouldn't be surprised if players could now curve a free kick so much that it may lead to an own goal and instead, demand that every player wore standard issue boots which Stanley Matthews used to don;

- ban all the under-soil heating, covered terraces and even seats in the stadium so that the game could get back its pre-war spirit where players actually braved all sorts of elements during games and when supporters would still shout themselves silly standing under a hailstorm;

- ban those comfy, weather-proofed substitutes bench which most big stadiums have and instead go back to the good ole days where the subs' bench consisted of literally just a bench;

- ban those emergency-ward level sophisticated stretchers that protects an injured player's core & vitals completely when he's being taken off the field and instead expect grown men to be man enough to just roll off the pitch with a broken leg or a punctured lung just like in the old days.

There are probably sixteen thousand more modern day 'technology' which the modern day footballer is so accustomed to so much so that he doesn't even stop to think about (like scientifically-portioned-and-mixed pre-match meals, state of the art team buses and Twitter) that it really boggles the mind that FIFA would still be so insistent on keeping out actual technology which would benefit the game.

Football, like everything else around us, evolves. It doesn't stay in a constant position where one could safely say where its "spirit" should be kept at and maintained forever. Day by day, new technology emerges and improves our lives. Technology adapts to our needs and is constantly changing the way we live so that we may live just a little more efficiently. 

Besides "killing the spirit of the game", another more popular excuse thrown about by FIFA is that technology would take away the human element from the game.

To which I say: what the fuck is so wrong with that?! 

We rely on processors to crunch numbers and do massive amounts of calculation because to rely on humans to do so would take way too long and involve possible human errors. We rely on technology to perform elaborate surgeries because they are capable of reducing human errors down to almost zero. For tasks such as mining, deep-sea diving and even military games we rely on technology all the time simply because we realise that for certain things, the human element may not be the most ideal to have. Things like reasoning, art, creation and innovation require the human element, yes. But for things which require dead-on accuracy, precision and consistency, humans fuck it up all the time. 

So what's wrong in trying to create an environment as neutral as possible (where all calls made by match officials are aided by unbiased and less fallible technology) so that both sides of players can concentrate on giving their 101% of human element to where it is required; playing a damn good game of football?

So why and why and why, we ask, would technology be such a bad thing for football?

There is no other plausible explanation other than a harsh, dark and (whisper it softly) conspiratorial one: perhaps they want the game to be in a state of uncertainty. If the game is in a constant state of flux, where calls are entirely at the discretion of match officials, it is easy to dictate ... and maybe even 'control' the outcome of a particular match.

Now, I am not insinuating anything, but just consider this: every weekend, billions of pounds exchange hands in football betting all around the world. When huge sums of money come into the picture, the stakes are high when it comes to the outcome of games. When stakes are high, the human element invariably rears its ugly head. Match-fixing and bribery are not uncommon in football. Yes, the punishment and shame associated to convicted perpetrators are severe, but what if it becomes hard to prove that a match has been fixed?

Let's do a mental exercise: put yourself in the shoes of a large, underground betting syndicate who has cumulatively received huge amounts of money betting for Team A (a strong favourite) in an upcoming fixture against Team B (whipping boys of the league). Team A is chasing for the title so there's motivation for their players to go all out and win. Team A's players are also mostly highly paid stars who have a lot to lose if caught fixing a match. Even if a Team A player were inclined to throw the game away, he is but 1 out of 11 on the pitch. His contribution may not be substantial. 

Who then, would be your most ideal 'investment' to ensure that you cause a giant-killing feat for Team B and rake in big money from the Team A punters? Perhaps someone who probably doesn't earn as much as the stars of Team A (and hence require less amount of money to be bought)? Perhaps someone who, in one move, can affect the outcome of the entire game much more than the efforts of 11 players combined? Perhaps someone who can, after the match, raise up his hand and simply say "oh, I made a bad call. Sorry"?

Hmm ...

And if you're already going to go so far as to "invest" in such individuals, would it then not be prudent long-term investment on your part to ensure that the individuals who collectively hold power in the governing body of football, are individuals whom all share the notion that technology is bad, kills the spirit of the game and removes the human element of the game? Would it not make economical and financial sense to back such individuals in any upcoming election to hold power in such a body so that they may in turn ensure that technology does not come into the game so that your "mini investments" in the men who make the calls game after game may continue bearing fruit, week after week after week?

Hmm ...

I thought I'd end with a disclaimer: I am in no way insinuating nor implying that FIFA are in any way affiliated with underground betting syndicates or have members who were installed by the aforesaid syndicates. The above comments were merely hypothetical assumptions made of the possible reasons for FIFA's stoic reluctance to adopt game-defining technologies which would improve the game and remove the element of uncertainty from them.

So if FIFA or anyone who walks in the corridors of football's power has felt the heat from the above article, perhaps you could prove this author, and everyone else, wrong by implementing technology to safeguard the game from more "bad calls" by match officials.

The ball's in your court. 

Earning Their Spurs

At 17:00 GMT today, Chelsea will travel to Wembley Stadium and take on Tottenham Hotspur in what would potentially be a season-defining game for them. 

After respectively enduring a tumultuous season, both London teams will be looking to book a place to face Liverpool in the FA Cup final in May. The stakes are high. For both teams, it is more than just the fact that they are both chasing that elusive Champions League spot. They are also hoping to land the most realistic silverware they can this season. And, at the end of the day, it's a derby game after all. 

Spurs will be a tricky proposition, their 1-2 defeat to Norwich notwithstanding. They have got the pace, power and physicality to edge Chelsea in terms of pure athleticism. In Rafael Van Der Vart and Luka Modric they have enough creativity and flair to match Juan Mata. In Jermain Defoe, Adebayor and Louis Saha, they have a strikeforce which instills more fear in teams compared to Chelsea's Drab Four of Torres, Drogba, Kalou and Sturridge. And then Gareth Bale would probably be able to outrun the entire left flank of Chelsea at jogging pace. 

Despite all that, I personally think the odds are balanced. Chelsea have the edge in terms of experience when it comes to the tense, final stages of a Cup run. The spine of Messrs Cech, Terry, Ashley Cole, Ivanovic, Lamps, Essien, Kalou and Drogba were all part of the previous incarnations of a squad who had until recent times pushed teams like Barcelona, Inter and United to the very last breath in Europe's premier Cup competition. 

Spurs, for all their swashbuckling swagger of this season, simply have not been tested on the big occasion yet. If Chelsea can match Spurs' level of intensity, then there's a higher probability of their collective experience and big match temperament pulling them through to the Finals. 

This is a game where Di Matteo will surely be tested to the limits. He has to be spot-on with his team selection and have one eye on resting some tired legs for the upcoming Barca semifinal. Yet, throwing away this game (by fielding a weakened second team) is not an option either, as a win today will surely lift up spirits and be a big confidence booster ahead of their clash with the Catalans.

Whatever the outcome will be, let's hope the boys in Blue put up a good fight and give it all they've got. 

My scoreline prediction: a closely fought 1-0 to Chelsea, probably through a Torres winner. (cue to mocking laughter) We'll see who will have the last laugh. 

:)

Bum Not So Squeaky

Yet another season is about to end with Man Utd cantering its way to yet another EPL title. And they are doing so without even moving out of 2nd gear all season. Or having a proper central midfielder.

As recent as up to a month ago, City appeared the only team capable of taking the fight against the Devils right down to the wire. They had power, grit, attacking verve and a host of international superstars molded together by a willy Italian. But they also had Ballotelli. And Carlos Tevez. The rest, as we are witnessing, is history. 

Whether it is due to the aforementioned duo's off-field problems or natural ability to attract controversy like a Catholic priest to choirboys, whether it is the inexperience of Mancini in a proper English title fight, whether it is untimely injuries, whether it is fatigue or whether it is the lack of squad depth ... whatever the cause, it is clearly having a destructive effect on a team who is now chasing a seemingly impossible 8-point gap with United. 

Never before have we seen a front-runner's season unravel and derail so spectacularly as City's since Newcastle circa 1995 (who famously led United by 12 points at Christmas but conspired to throw away the league and hand United the title come May). 

So once again, we find ourselves in familiar territory with United looking all but certain of landing title No.20 during the period of a season which Sir Alex once famously called 'squeaky bum time'. 

As much as I hate to say it, United still are the team to beat and emulate. They've got 'champions' ingrained and embedded in their DNA and football culture so deep that they have the natural instinct to never know when they've been beaten. Whilst their performances have been anything but impressive, their fighting spirit and work ethic has been first-class. Once again, Sir Alex shows just why he's probably the greatest manager of all time.

I wish the same could be said about Chelsea though. Yes, we're still in with a shout to 4th place (and hopefully qualification for Champs League next season) and yes we're in the last 4 of both the FA Cup and Champs League at the moment ... but we have certainly lost the swagger, style or conviction to pull off the impossible. We are still without a firm and strong visionary to lead and manage the team in the long term. We are still without able replacements for the Old Guard. We are still a team in transition and this transition has taken inextricably too long, no thanks to the constant rotation of managers which invariably brings with it change of style, philosophy and backroom staff. 

Whatever happens this season, if Chelsea is serious in mounting a better challenge than City against United next season, we need to bring stability back to the club. We need shrewd recruitment and we need to instill a sense of hope and trust throughout the squad. 

But that is all still a long way to go. End of season this is NOT yet, and Chelsea need to bring back some feel good to the Bridge by going as far as they can in all 3 campaigns. 

Come on now Blues!