The Hazards of Time-Wasting

Unless you've been living under a coconut shell for the past 2 days or have no interest in English football (which, according to my books translate to being someone who lives under a coconut shell), you would have seen the pictures, watched the video and read countless articles of our 30 million quid blue eyed Belgian Boy, Eden Hazard kicking a ball from under the (fat) body of a Swansea ball-boy who took it upon himself to help his team "time-waste". 

According to reports, Hazard will be slapped with the minimum 3 game suspension (for a violent misconduct straight red) which, according to the FA, would be increased after they are done deliberating on the incident. 

Now, I am a Hazard fan, and yet I say bring the 3 plus plus ban on. Hazard made a (wrong) decision by lashing out, he should now take it on the chin like a man. You reap what you sow. Both him and the club shouldn't appeal. 

A few games out should give him the opportunity to recharge his batteries, reflect on life, take anger management courses or maybe partake in some community service like volunteering to be a ball-boy in some pub or Sunday league. If he plays his cards right, he could actually reap benefit from this incident to boost his image, publicity and reputation. 

His PR team / agent, if savvy, should now organize school or University visits by Hazard to talk about the pressures of the game and how it affects people and their temper. Maybe write a (very short) book / article (perhaps calling it "How To Kick That Ball, Boy"). Maybe team up with Nike or Adidas to endorse a line of high tech sports apparel for ball-boys with special rib cage padding. Maybe record a duet with that ball-boy to release a catchy Euro-techno song about the hazards (pun intended) of collecting stray balls. Maybe even go into deep reading (preferably Nietzsche, who knows when you'd suddenly find yourself debating with Joey Barton on twitter). Learn English cooking (though that would take up all of 15 minutes of his time). Team up with EA Sports to add a FIFA 13 patch where pressing a certain sequence of buttons would allow players to execute "a Hazard" and start assaulting people outside the field of play. The possibilities are endless. 

Many a time, boundless opportunities arise from a fall, most of them which wouldn't have been there had the fall not taken place initially. There is truth in the old saying "it is only through failure that we can attain future successes". I shall stop now before this turns into one of those self-help status updates on Facebook that many are fond of quoting (or plagiarising). 

So to both Hazard haters and fans alike: Stop with the over-analysing of this incident. Hazard was wrong. He shouldn't have kicked the ball from under the boy and now he's going to get his due punishment. Finito. This incident does not turn Hazard (or the ball-boy) into a villain overnight. Hazard also has not turned into a bad player overnight. Hazard will not also be just remembered for this incident in time to come. 

To Hazard (and here I am deluding myself that the lad would actually be reading this): Use this (suspension) time-out wisely. Reflect. Ponder. Grow. Bounce back harder. Become stronger. If you ever need any role model at this point in time, there's none more apt than a particular Frenchman and his infamous kung-fu kick, which should have ended his football career but instead catapulted him into legendary status when he came back hungrier, stronger and calmer than before. 

Frankly Speaking

Oops, he's done it again (for the umpteenth time).

In last night's 4-0 rout of Stoke City at the Britannia, Fat Frankie (a moniker he earned in his days as a Hammer) got in amongst the goals. Whilst some would argue that it was from a spotkick, none can argue his instrumental influence and role in that landslide victory. Pulling the strings in the engine room, endlessly running about and providing a calm centre of authority from which the creative likes of Hazard and Mata launched wave after wave of Blue attacks from, Lamps put in (again, for the umpteenth time) a shift that was consistently above average in all areas of the field. 

And so has been the story of his 12 years plus of service to Chelsea. When he joined the club in 2001, he was a no-frills, box-to-box midfielder who had great stamina, superb positioning sense and a keen eye for goal from a late run into the box. Today, amidst all the talk of his imminent departure, he is still a no-frills, box-to-box midfielder who has great stamina, superb positioning sense and a keen eye for goal from a late run into the box. The only difference being that in the 12 years or so of doing the same thing week in, week out, Frank became an integral spine of a team that has won a couple of league titles, several domestic cups and an European Cup.

Many a Stamford Bridge faithful strongly believe that a picture of Lamps kissing his badge ought to appear in the dictionary next to the word "consistency". Looking back at his track record, one can't argue with them, despite his languid demeanour and apparent laidback air he brings about him. 

Lampard may not be capable of Braveheart-levels of inspirational drive from midfield as Stevie G, may not snarl or compete as fiercely as Rooney, may not embody the stubborn British air of never-say-die as his Captain John Terry, may not possess the technical abilities of his more gifted companions such as Wilshere, Scholes or even Joe Cole, but he is undoubtedly one of the few complete English footballers around in ways none of the few aforesaid can match. 

He isn't exceptionally good in one particular area of play or skill, but he is slightly above average in all departments.  One can argue that it isn't hard to be consistently above average. But to do that in all areas of your game, every game, for 12 over years, is no easy feat. Lamps has done it for as long as he has been a professional footballer.

As such, it is easy to see why he is viewed as a Stamford Bridge legend by many. It is even easier to see why many a Chelsea fan has been left disillusioned by the club's refusal to agree terms with him on a new contract.

From the club's point of view, he is 34 and pushing into his twilight years. It's purely business. They reckoned that the wages spent securing the services of an ageing legend would be financially more prudent if pumped into securing the services of a couple of brighter young stars. It makes for practical economic sense but they have seriously underestimated his non-playing value here, in my opinion. 

Last May when we won the Champions League, I wrote about the need for a reinvention and the breaking up of the old guard. In my post-celebratory article, I called for a subtle phasing out of the 5 stalwarts as we seek to rebuild a new generation of a sustainable young empire. From that 5, Drogba has gone to the Far East to seek greener pastures. Cech still looks like he has a couple of years left at the top thanks to his goalkeeping position being less affected by the ravages of age. Ashley Cole, a mercenary-at-heart, appeared the most poised to leave either due to a lack of new contract agreed upon or a lucrative deal being offered by either a Gulf team, PSG, City, Anzhi, the far East or the MLS. 

It was in Lamps and Terry that I had hoped who would transition from on-field legends to coaching or even boardroom heroes. I had hoped that both of them would accept slightly lesser game time but still continue being retained in the first team for the wealth of experience and leadership they would be able to impart upon the younger ones, playing a Giggs or Scholes type role. 

Sadly, not everyone at the club shared this view and as Lampard's current predicament suggests, Chelsea's way or running the club still appears very short term and with little regard for empire-building. By signing Lampard on for another couple of seasons, the club would no doubt incur some heavy wage bill. They may argue there the cost-value-analysis in such a situation does not make sense. However, such thinking is myopic to the value which they can't quantify in terms of points or minutes on the pitch. It is his character and personality that they would be essentially paying for.

In my opinion, Chelsea's inability to recognize the value of having an experienced head with the rare ability to be ultra-consistent over a massive period of time would be a massive loss to the club. A player with the rare combination of Lampard's work ethic, attitude, intelligence, experience, drive and personality comes once in a couple of blue moons. No amount of trainers, coaches, managers, sports psychologists, motivators or fitness trainers would be able to replicate the impact Frankie would be able to have on the younger players everyday in the dressing room, training grounds and on the pitch.

And that, frankly speaking, is what's troubling me. 

For these reasons, I hereby join in the millions of fans of this phenomenal legend in pleading to the club: give him a new contract, for frank's sake. 

Ho ho ho ... Guess who's back?

And so I've not been writing here for some time. The busy-ness of work, domestic front and intense competition on Fantasy Football have all contributed towards the considerable lessening of my available time to blog and/or to offer thoughts on the topsy-turvy drama that the Bridge has been going through ever since the sacking of our favourite Number 16.

But if you thought I was referring to myself in the title's question, then you'd be wrong. My return to blogging after a brief hiatus is, no matter how big a deal in my own world, nothing compared to the return (hopefully) of form of Stamford Bridge's 50 million pound golden child: Fernando Torres.

Well, to say he's back 100% (to his Liverpool days) when he used to plunder and terrorize defences for fun may be a tad premature at this point. But given his recent woeful spell and barren run of around 2 years, Nando getting his name regularly on the scoresheet these days represent a glowing beacon of hope that perhaps, just perhaps, he has (finally, for the umpteenth time) turned the corner. 

Whilst he only notched a solitary goal against Villa last night when the Blues duly raped them and left them 8-0 for dead, the predatory way he took his chance and powered a beautiful header into the net to open the scoring floodgates contained flashes of his old self. There were several more moments in the game where he oozed confidence and swagger, one clearest instance being a cheeky Rabona which actually did float across the goal towards an intended recipient, only to be cleared hurriedly by a Villan defender. 

Whatever that fat, Spanish waiter is doing, it seems to be working. I'm still not a fan of Rafa and am still livid over this expensive quick-fix temp taking charge of the club, but as long as he keeps the boys in Blue free-flowing and scoring as they did last night, maybe ... just maybe, I will grudgingly give a (very, very) slight acknowledgment of his presence.

Whatever it is, it's great to finally get a Torres firing on all cylinders. What's needed now is a bit more regularity and consistency to prove that this emergence is different from his previous false dawns or starts. What is needed is a strong goalscoring run to finally bury his demons for good and remind the world that Nando is back.  

RDM Gets the Thumbs Down from Caesar

In the sandal-and-sword days of the gladiators, the triumphant and bloodied combatant would emerge from the heap of human (and sometimes animal) bones and flesh, half-dead from exhaustion and blood loss. 

His eyes would scan the hordes of screaming and baying audience, searching for that one man who would decide his fate; the Caesar. The Caesar would be perched majestically above the rest of the commoners from a vantage position, observing the bloodbath and gore of the battle beneath him. 

The Caesar would then extend his hand out and, depending on how the combatant had performed and (largely) his mood, would either motion for a thumbs up to signify his approval to the combatant's efforts at entertaining him, or a thumbs down to indicate his displeasure at the same. The former usually involves the combatant sinking to his knees in gratitude for being given a chance to live another day, whilst the latter usually involves a swift loping off his head by a menacing imperial guard standing nearby.

Times may have changed and such scenes can only be found on the silver screen and in books these days, but following the fortunes of Chelsea FC sure comes close to a throwback to such brutal days of yore. 

For starters, whilst we do not have Roman Caesars anymore, we have an even more brutal dictator in the form of Roman Abramovich, the owner. And whilst there are no accounts of Roman ever having lopped off anyone's head before (not officially, at least), in his short 9 years at the helm of the club, he has now sacked 8 managers who had worked for him. 

Champions League winning manager Roberto Di Matteo has just become (un)lucky number 8. Despite guiding a misfiring and unpredictable bunch of old fogeys into becoming improbable FA Cup and UEFA Champions League winners merely 3 months after taking over from AVB, Robbie (the moniker he affectionately earned as a Chelsea midfield dynamo) was given the swift boot out of Stamford Bridge barely 4 months into the season. 

The previous 7 managers can attest to Roman's ruthless streak. There is simply no time and place for sentiment or nostalgia as far as this Russian oligarch is concerned. For him, it's all about the results and silverware. Make no bones about it, he is neither a true football supporter nor was he ever a true fan of the club when he rolled into London with his oil money to launch his audacious bid to turn Chelsea into a global superpower. Also, he didn't rise to become the 5th richest person in Russia and 50th richest person in the world with an estimated personal fortune of 8.4 billion pounds sterling by being a nice guy with a heart of gold. 

Despite all that, many would argue that there is a method to his madness. Many would argue that despite the constant upheavals, unpredictability and bad blood that seem to permeate the Bridge, the Blues have tasted more success than even Manchester United (who, on the opposite end of the scale, have been a club that epitomises stability and continuity above all) has during Roman's tenure. This same group would also gladly point out that Arsenal, a club who had stood loyally with 1 manager throughout the past 9 years and produced a generation of gifted footballers has a barren trophy cabinet as testament to the "spend conservatively" philosophy.

So Roman is on the right track, this group of people would say. If he has the money, why shouldn't he spend it as and how he chooses, right?

Yes and no.

From Roman's perspective, what he has achieved is remarkable. He has attained success for the club and turned them from a fashionable, Continental-style playing London outfit into serious heavyweights and (recently) European champions in less than a decade into his project. As an investor, you might say that he achieved all that through shrewd, ruthless, calculated and cunning decision-making. The same killer instincts that propelled him into the world billionaire club has served well in navigating the harsh competition of the Premier League, which is fast turning into the playground of similarly super-rich tycoons. 

However, from a fan's point of view (like yours truly, for example), Chelsea's philosophy is worrying. No, wait, make that extremely worrying. Because all the trophies, silverware and dizzying collection of global superstar players and managers that have come and gone were made possible through one source only: Roman Abramovich. They were all obtained because of his initial injection of massive loads of cash and continued investment in the club. 

Any real economist worth his salt will tell you that it is an extremely risky and foolish investor who puts all his eggs in one basket, no matter how large or secure that basket may initially appear to be. This is because the investor would be standing stark naked in a highly exposed negative Black Swan environment where his entire investments and savings is but one freak event away from being completely wiped out. 

Same goes for Chelsea. What happens if Roman gets into a freak car accident and dies tomorrow? Or gets involved in some major financial debacle that reduces him to pauper level? Or what if he simply tires from playing with Chelsea and turns his attention completely in another area, let's say training Russian cycling bears. What becomes of Chelsea Football Club?

What becomes of a club so heavily in debt, with massive monthly wages to pay, with no sustainable financial model and who relies solely on the continued backing from its mega-rich owner? 

It will crumble. Surefire sales will ensue with players, coaches, managers and possibly even all the silverware plus the kitchen sink having to go to auction in bids to stave off administration. Even if the club miraculously survives administration or going belly up, its position as a footballing force would drop faster than Drogba after a nasty tackle. Chelsea as we know it will cease to exist and we would either be looking at a Leeds United, Portsmouth or Rangers FC type situation. 

This is why, as a fan, winning the Champions League last season felt more like a relief rather than ecstatic joy. This was because I thought, finally the owner has gotten what he truly craves, the Holy Grail. The owner has won almost all important trophies he could possibly win and he has proven to all doubters that his money can indeed buy success.

With that, I was hoping that he would then shift his philosophy into building a dynasty. I was hoping that having conquered all and sundry through instant cash injection, Roman would now aim his sights on perhaps slowly turning Chelsea into a self-sustaining, profit-making institution. It would take time but it is achievable. Perhaps divert more money into building a first grade youth academy, hiring top coaches at the youth level, investing in youth scouting network, slowly trimming the excess fat from the first team, spending wisely in the transfer market and generally dropping a penny or two more into the piggy bank rather than raiding it come every January and summer. As for the first team, forge a stable, core group of young players under a long-term manager to foster a new team spirit and challenge for honours without too many drastic marquee signings every summer.

Well, Roman has clearly thrown all that out of the window with the sacking of RDM and installation of Rafa Benitez as new gaffer. It's not because I rate RDM so highly as a manager. No, it's more because of the timing of the sacking; coming just after RDM had encountered his first blip of his first season in charge sends a chilling message that Roman still has his pedal to the metal and is driving the club at breakneck pace towards success (or at least his vision of it). 

Welcome to the Chelsea show where it's non-stop drama, twists, turns and upheavals year after year. A show that's been going on for 9 seasons and it doesn't look like it will be slowing down anytime soon. We're Chelsea and we're the pantomime villain of the EPL. If football is pro wrestling, Chelsea has made playing the heel character its own. Benitez may be the first twist of this season but certainly will not be the last. We may get Falcao for a king's ransom in January. We may even get Neymar come summer. We may fight off City to land Pep as manager next season. Hell, we may even go for the jugular by luring the Prodigal Son to return to London. 

Amidst all the madness, one thing's for certain: doing all of the above would involve pumping silly amounts of cash into the game. Loads of cash which Chelsea as a club does not have. Loads of cash which could only come from the personal bank vault of Chelsea's very own modern day Caesar.

Like him or loathe him, the Chelsea empire has one ruler and one philosophy only. Hail Roman.

3 Ways to Solve the Torres Problem

Madrid (Atletico), we have a problem. 

It would appear that Chelsea is currently sending out an S.O.S. to Atletico in the form of an audacious swoop for arguably Europe's hottest striker at the moment, Falcao. And, if my sources are to be believed, this is going to be a done deal way before the January transfer window opens. 

All this because a certain 50 million pound ex-Atletico golden boy has been misfiring of late ('late' here carrying a definition of being the past 2 years).

If (or when) Torres does go, it would be a shame. This is because I genuinely like Nando as a striker. Even from his Liverpool days. On his day, he can strike the fear of God into any of the game's best centrebacks (ask Vidic) with his burst of pace, turnings and killer instinct. 

However, most Chelsea fans have been waiting patiently for such a day to arrive. This is because Torres has simply not been performing, whether as against his old standards or even an average striker of today's game. Only the most myopic (or blind) of Chelsea fans would not be alarmed at the number of games he has registered without registering his name in the goal column. 

For a striker of his stature, reputation and price, his returns have not been encouraging. And hence, us now facing the very real prospect of him being sold at cut-price as a flop to fund the transfer kitty for a red-hot Colombian. 

All hope is not lost yet. There are still a couple of gameweeks till January. Still enough time for Nando to make the last few days of 2012 really count. Perhaps even change Roman's mind about selling him. It's going to be a (really really) long shot, but still a shot. 

Thus, if I was in the position to be giving Torres (or RDM or Roman) some personal advice, here would be 3 ways the Torres conundrum can be solved: 

(1) Lose Weight

At first I thought it was just me, or that someone had accidentally set my TV graphics setting to Wide mode, but after seeing other players on the same screen, I began to realise that Nando has been looking more and more chunky of late.

The Torres of old at Liverpool was fast, nippy and had the physique of someone who was tough but yet nimble and agile. Today's Torres looks like he couldn't even chase an ice-cream truck. I don't know what the dietitians or fitness coaches at Chelsea are doing (or not doing), but they certainly do not seem to be earning their keep judging by Torres' physique.

Perhaps RDM thought the best way to replace the battering ram Drogba was to recreate another bulky, bruising centreforward by transforming a once lithe, agility-based player like Nando into a hulking centre-forward. Well, it's not working. A far simpler option already exists, and that is to recall the Belgian beast, aka Lukaku, back from his loan at West Brom. 

Torres's whole game is (or was) built on searing pace and catching defenders and keepers napping with darting, strong runs and sublime finishing. When he bulks up, he loses almost 50% of the ingredients of what made him such a feared forward in the first place. 

So the message I would give Nando and everyone else monitoring his physical progress at Chelsea: STOP giving him the protein shakes or cut back on the paellas and start him on an all-vege-and-fruits diet. Torres needs to trim the excess fat, increase the tempo of his core and explosiveness exercises and generally get back to his once-agile frame in order to gain 50% of his old game back.

(2) Stop Trying To Defend

Many a times this season I've seen Torres as far back down the centre line trying to win the ball back and making horrendous tackles. Torres, or whoever is in charge of tactical discipline at Chelsea, must remember that he is a centreforward, NOT a midfielder. Torres must STOP dropping too deep and getting involved (and wasting precious stamina) on harrying the opposition from building up their game. 

Torres should stop trying to make Mikel and Ramires redundant because they are the ones who should be closing down the midfield and winning back balls. Torres should instead learn to just hang around the shoulder of the last defender or actively mess about with his opponent's backlines by just constantly moving across their back four.

There's a reason why sometimes strikers or attacking midfielders do that. They sense their position being challenged (when they're off form or rarely given a start) and they take every single game minute as an opportunity to show the gaffer, fans and owner that they are committed to the cause and will fight hard for their jobs. Essentially, he knows he ain't scoring so psychologically, his subconscious figures that he must contribute in some other (unwanted) way to keep his place in the squad. Sadly, all this dropping deep and getting involved in midfield is Torres's attempt to keep his job. 

Wrong strategy if you ask me. This is because when he's wasting too much energy trying to win balls, he's not in prime attacking positions and he is not a natural distributor. As such, it is akin to a sales person (with low sales figures) desperately trying to keep his job by attempting to repair broken photocopy machines, make coffee for the CEO or try to balance the company books.

Don't.

Just focus and do what you've been paid to do. Score goals. Get into attacking positions. Always be there when the opportunity arises. And then pounce. 

Which brings us to my next and final solution ...

(3) Start Being More Selfish

He has to start being more selfish. All the great strikers are selfish. They rarely give away an opportunity at a strike just because another teammate is running into a good position. 

Of late, due to his lack of confidence, Torres has been trying to set up play, create assists and pass the ball sideways when he should be slamming and taking shots from all around and inside the box. Again, this is an issue of confidence (or the lack thereof) where he does not dare to take too many shots for fear of failing but instead preferring to set up teammates so that the final buck (if the chance doesn't get converted) does not stop with him.

The only way Torres can get out of a barren scoring run is to score more. The only way to score more is to take more shots. The only way to take more shots is to hog opportunities and STOP giving it away. He should STOP trying those nifty little backheel passes, one touch set-ups or constantly scouring the forward line for a Mata or Hazard to run onto his pass. Instead, he should channel all the focus of a guided missile towards the goal and only the goal. 

He should learn that it is OK to be occasionally cursed and sworn at by your teammates (and fans) as long as you elicit delirious celebration and cheers from them when you do score from your numerous selfish shots on target (as rat-face Suarez). 

SUMMARY

Nando, if you're reading this, the above tips may save your Chelsea career. No matter how exciting the prospect of having Falcao line up for us may be, I have my faith and support in you. Follow the 3 tips above and you'll at least get the chance to ensure Falcao isn't a 100% starter. 

Immediate Reaction: Right Clatter at the Bridge

It was billed as Match of the Day, and quite rightly so. Top drawer, box office superstars of football's elite from two of the top three best footballing sides in England locked horns last night. High octane, attacking verve and dizzying skills were written all over it. 

And the players did not disappoint. It was a cracker of a match. This morning's papers ought to have been awash with praises and superlatives for RVP's superb marksmanship or Mata's beautiful curler of a freekick or the sheer roller-coaster of dominance shown by United and Chelsea in turns. 

Sadly, that was not the case. Instead, all the papers, blogs, tweets, online editorials and articles were talking about one man only. 

Him:

United started the game flying, racing to a 2-0 lead through an own goal by David Luiz and then a superbly taken first-time shot from RVP after some fine work by Valencia down the right flank. Chelsea slowly awoke from their slumber and made amends. Firstly, a freekick awarded after Rooney had hacked down a mazy Hazard run was promptly rewarded through Juan Mata, who showcased how to exquisitely bend a classy freekick around the United wall and just out of De Gea's reach. 2-1 to United going into halftime. 

After the break, Chelsea came out stronger, building up play with intricate passes by the sumptuous trio of Hazard-Mata-Oscar and were promptly rewarded with a forceful Ramires header from a Mata to Oscar to back to the six yard box cross. 

With the game delicately balanced at 2-2, it was anything goes. United stepped up their gear and begun their customary deadly counter-attacks whilst Chelsea ebbed and flowed their way towards a winner. It was nervy, it was exciting. Both sets of fans was poised for a nail-biting finish. For the neutrals, it was great entertainment. Good football, lots of goals and now a possible race to a winning goal had beckoned.

Enter Mark Clattenburg. First, he gave a straight red to Ivanovic for a clumsy trip on Ashley Young. 

As a Chelsea fan, it would have been easy to claim that Ivanovic was clumsily trying to avoid Young whilst the wily United winger had (as usual) made a meal out of any minimal contact. However, in all objectivity, it was perhaps a cruel but justified red. As the last defender, any contact to your opponent and the goal is deemed as a denial of a clear goal-scoring opportunity. So whilst it may have been a tad harsh, it was probably a decision most other referees would have taken as well. 

However, Mark's 2nd big contribution to United came at the expense of El Nino, who had been having a busy yet non-prolific afternoon thus far. Admittedly, Torres does come with a reputation for being a diver (plus he's Spanish), but when Johnny Evans left a leg trailing against Nando in full flight, majority (including Evans himself) thought that a foul (and perhaps a caution) would be given in Chelsea's favour. Horror turned to shock turned to disgust when he proceeded to give Torres a second yellow for play-acting, which meant Torres was off.

With 10 men against 11, Chelsea still may have been able to pull off a draw or perhaps even snatch a late winner. But once reduced to 9 men, the game was essentially over. No team stands a chance when they're outnumbered by 2 whole players. Especially more so against United. 

From then on, the football match ended and the farce began. Players from both sides began losing control with Obi Mikel, Ramires, Ashley Cole and David Luiz fortunate to still be playing after getting into questionable scraps with United players. Rooney too had looked to be boiling and had to be taken off after getting cautioned for a meaty challenge. 

Clattenburg's man-of-the-match performance was capped with a brilliant award of a goal to United when substitute Chicarito poked at a loose ball at close range when he was clearly in an offside position. 

Missiles and abuses were hurled from the terraces and scenes at the Bridge descended into chaos as the game entered its final stretch. The night ended with a controversial 3-2 win for United and everyone felt robbed of watching how a great contest of footballing skills would have ended in its natural course.

In all honesty, it was still anybody's game at 2-2. I wouldn't have been surprised if United would have mustered up yet another thrilling-yet-customary United late winner and took all 3 points back to Manchester with great pride and dignity. 

But we will never be able to answer that question now, thanks to Mark. The question has become moot. Instead, thanks to the bumbling ineptitude of one of the game's most card-happy refs, this game will always be remembered as "The One Which United Won against 9 Men and an Offside Goal". 

To clarify, this post is in no way trying to steal any glory from a United win. A win is still a win.  This post is also not a bumbling justification for Chelsea's first loss of the season. They had played badly in the first half and did not seem cohesive between attack and defence. A loss would have been deserved.

This post, however, is interested in pointing out a blindingly obvious observation only: that bad refereeing decisions cost the fans and players more than just the mere 3 points. Too much attention nowadays is given to stopping racism, play-acting, disrespect, dirty tackles, etc., that we sometimes forget that for the players to respect the game, perhaps the governing bodies should first keep its house in order by ridding itself of refereeing buffoons such as Clatternburg. It would be a shame (and indeed an embarrassment) to the FA if Mark Clattenburg is allowed to officiate another match again. It is time for the FA to show it means business by throwing the rule book at Clatternburg. 

Usually when Chelsea take on United, one can always be guaranteed of an explosive match of deafening proportions. Last night, the only sounds to be heard at the Bridge were the clatterings of a bumbling match official. Let's hope this will be last of squeaks that can be heard on any footballing pitch from now on. 

Hopes of Defending Euro Trophy Shakhtared

In what was to be their first real major loss of the season, Chelsea's hopes of defending the Champions League trophy this season took a battering with a 2-1 defeat to Shaktar Donetsk last night. 

A quickfire Alex Texeira goal in the 4th minute barely before the game settled gave Shaktar the lead, followed by another through Fernandinho in the 2nd half ensured that Oscar's consolation meant nought as our boys face the reality of having to win at least 2 of their last 3 games in order to advance past the group stages. 

Admittedly, we didn't play too badly. However, we didn't actually click or get into rhythm throughout the entire game. It was one of those nights where the intense battle on the park was to be decided by taking all your chances well and converting them. Chelsea did not.

No alarm bells to be rung yet, though. Chelsea's season is still pretty much going on track despite this little speed bump in the Donbass Arena. I personally feel we have enough quality to pull through at least to the knockout phase. By then, the nucleus and shape of this team should have settled and we'd see how the new-look Chelsea fares amongst Europe's elite.

On the domestic front, what can I say? 22 points out of a possible 24 means we are currently sitting pretty on top of the pile with the 2 Manchester clubs chasing. We have played 2 testing derby fixtures against Arsenal and Spurs, and walked away with 3 points each in the bag. 

This weekend, however, sees a true test of our mettle and will be a good indicator as to how genuine is Chelsea's chase for the Premier League title going to be as Man Utd beckons.

Fortunately, we're catching United at a time when they are facing injury problems and a leaking backline but they're still Man Utd. At their worst, they are already highly competitive and never know when they're beaten. When they're on form, they can tear any team apart with ease.  

At this point in time, with Rooney regaining his form and relishing life a little deeper in midfield, RvP showing why Sir Alex forked out so much dosh to lure him over from the Emirates, it does look like the Chelsea backline will be in for a real test of character and pressure.

I expect it to be a very tight affair, with perhaps very little separating the two. I am plumping for a Chelsea win though. And this time, I predict Hazard putting in an inspiring performance to show why he was the brightest star to have left Ligue 1 in recent times.

So bring on the Devils.