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THE PUNK AND THE GODFATHER

Chelsea India — Tue, 13 Dec 2011 15:39:42 +0000

In the wake of CFC’s recent, unsuccessful, attempt to secure the support required to initiate a transfer of the freehold of Stamford Bridge from the CPO, for me, the recent news that the club were re-examining the merits of the Battersea Power Station site as a suitable venue for a new stadium curiously served to pour oil on waters that had become troubled by the controversy associated with the club’s unscrupulous approach to the whole buy-back process.

I recall back in 2003, when Mr Abramovich arrived in SW6, Battersea, along with Earls Court, was soon being touted as a possible site for a new stadium. In 2006, Peter Kenyon boldly outlined CFC’s plans to become the Number 1 club in the world by 2014 – at the same time the BPS site was dismissed as being “too small”. Five years on, with Kenyon long gone, the grand plan for world domination is somewhat behind schedule although Mr Kenyon’s unpopular apprentice Ronald Gourlay, now tasked with running “the business” and developing “the brand” would claim otherwise. As for Battersea Power Station, with a firm of developers and architects now looking at the feasibility of moving to the iconic site – Blues fans have once more been ruminating over what the future might hold – a welcome distraction from debates about the whys and wherefores of the football team’s abject run of form in recent weeks.

Whether or not CFC choose to make a new “offer” to the 12,000 plus CPO shareholders at the January AGM remains to be seen, one things for certain though, unless Gourlay et-al are both blind and stupid (don’t rule out this possibility), I’d expect their approach to the whole process to be markedly different with open consultation being the order of the day. Staying at, and redeveloping, Stamford Bridge remains an option and Hammersmith and Fulham Council have recently vowed to “work closely” with the club, reaffirming their desire to see CFC remain in the borough – and again we wait with baited breath to see what might transpire from this collaboration.

If, and it’s a big if, the freehold transfer process is initiated and runs smoothly – what then? Battersea Power Station? Who fancies that? Well I’d put my hand up immediately, you see I’ve been fascinated with the place since October 26th 1973. Smiffy tells me that on this date Chelsea beat Norwich City 3-0 at Stamford Bridge with a Baldwin brace and a goal from Stevie Kember – I’ll take his word for it. I wasn’t allowed to go to watch the Blues on my own back then on account of a) being too young and b) being displaced from SW6 by 180 odd miles. Nah, October 26th 1973 holds a place in my memory because it was the day that Riggo, the lad who lived across the road, came and knocked for me, excitedly proclaiming that his elder brother, Big Riggo, had just bought the new Who album, Quadrophenia, and we should go and listen to it whilst he was out with his girlfriend.

As with most lads growing up in the 70s, there were only three things that mattered in life – football, music and girls – though depending on age, not in that particular order. As a 12 years old Chelsea fan, I was about to witness the slide of my team into what was by-and-large a dreadful decade of decay. The kings of the Kings Road dethroned. As a 12 years old music fan on the other hand, things were markedly different and the influence of Big Riggo’s burgeoning record collection would smooth my transition to being a teenager and assist in my pursuit of Roxette the pneumatically developing daughter of my old Ma’s hairdresser who was in the year above me at school.

Riggo cued side one of Quadrophenia up on his impressive looking Dynatron RG88 Radiogram and we sat down side by side on the sofa to studiously examine the gatefold sleeve that the double album, the Who’s second rock opera, was packaged in as the opening bars of “I am the Sea” enveloped us. The iPod generation have no idea what they’ve missed out on – gatefold sleeves, crackly vinyl – having a look on the run out groove to see if you had a George Peckham ‘porky prime cut’ – ah I’m getting all dewy-eyed just thinking about it.

Anyway back to the record sleeve and, more importantly, the thick 44 page booklet adorned with lyrics, storyline and grainy black-and-white photographs. Whilst Riggo assaulted an imaginary drum-kit Keith Moon-style, I slowly turned the pages – page 3 – eyes drawn to the sight of a local Battersea Mod kid, Terry “Chad” Kennett ( the Jimmy Cooper character brilliantly portrayed by Blues fan Phil Daniels in the 1979 film adaptation of the album) riding a scooter along Queenstown Road, SW8 with the four chimney stacks of a coal-fired power station belching smoke into the twilight sky forming a prominent backdrop.

From that moment, I was hooked – nay obsessed with the place, researching its curious history for various school projects, which included a meticulous study of the work of Sir Giles Gilbert Scott the architect whom in 1930 had been commissioned by the London Power Company to beautify the concept. Unbeknown to Scott at the time, he had already secured his place in British legend by designing the truly iconic red telephone box for the GPO in 1924.

Quadrophenia remained a huge part of the soundtrack to my life despite Big Riggo’s musical tastes trending fabulously into punk at a time when I was finally old enough a) to be allowed to go to football on my own and b) to be considered boyfriend material by the fragrant peroxide princess Roxette. Being a part of the nascent punk scene, the mantra ‘never trust a hippy’ was writ large in my teenaged subconscious and the story I am about to share has been kept a secret from polite society for the past 34 years.

It’s 4.50pm, Saturday December 2nd 1977 and I’m following Roxette down the concrete steps at the back of the old Shed Terrace. I’ve got mischief in mind and it’s nothing to do with the fishnet-stockinged Roxette or the fact that Chelsea have just lost 1-0 to Everton. The match had been a shocker. Toffees striker, Bob Latchford scored what turned out to be the winner early on in the second-half as the oft-ridiculously-coiffured, Ian Britton, had failed to equalise late on from the penalty spot. Britton side-footed wide of George Wood’s goal, the ball eventually rebounding back onto the pitch after striking one of the pale-blue, three-wheeled, AC Invacars which were allowed to park on the track in front of the terrace. The defeat came on the back of a 6-2 cuffing away at Citeh, a game incidentally in which Britton had managed to score from the spot, and Blues gaffer Ken Shellito would be picking up his P45 while there was still plenty of chocolate left in my Advent Calendar.

Twenty minutes later, looking out from the top-deck of the bus as we traversed Chelsea Bridge, I shook my head in dismay as I caught sight of the huge inflatable pig that was clearly visible in the night sky floating betwixt the chimney stacks of Battersea Power Station. Alighting on Queenstown Road and marching through wind and rain towards the hallowed building, Roxette couldn’t quite grasp why I was so vexed that Pink Floyd would chose to shoot the cover art-work for their soon-to-be-released album Animals on such hallowed ground – and I was in no mood to explain. What was required now was direct action. Back-in-the-day there was no CCTV to worry about, no over zealous security patrols and besides I had Roxette to act as a decoy at the gate. Using my extensive knowledge of the sites layout, I slipped by unnoticed. Stanley to hand, I made light work of the mooring ropes on the south chimney – and looked on gleefully as the giant pink pig floated away.

In the year that followed I was delighted that another favourite group, the Jam, shot the promotional video to their brilliant single “News of the World” atop the roof of BPS – and in a faint twist of irony, in later life, I came to appreciate the work of Pink Floyd and indeed the Animals album.

Battersea Power Station was declared a heritage site in 1980, and in 1983 ceased generating electricity, its useful life ended by a combination of outdated equipment and a shift towards oil, gas and nuclear power. Since then I’ve attended both legal and illegal “raves” at the site, various art exhibitions and even a performance by Cirque du Soleil all the while, watching, waiting and hoping that something good might come to pass as crumbling decay set in. And now, with the possibility that Chelsea Football Club might provide salvation, as you can imagine, my heart is gladdened by the possibilities – The Punk and the Godfather, satisfied at last? Maybe – just maybe.

MARK WORRALL

twitter @gate17marco

Mark Worrall is the author of cult terrace classics ‘Over Land and Sea’, ‘Blue Murder … Chelsea till I die’ and ‘One Man Went to Mow’ and the co-author of ‘Chelsea here Chelsea there’. Copies are available to buy with a discount of up to 60% and free postage within the UK at www.gate17.co.uk

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FIGHT THE REAL ENEMY

Chelsea India — Tue, 06 Dec 2011 03:28:01 +0000

Whichever side of the memory of Ken Bates’ electric fence you stand on in respect of Chelsea’s ambition to relocate to a site where a larger stadium could be built, even the staunchest advocate of ‘Gourlay’s Dream’ would have begrudgingly applauded the outstanding success of the well coordinated ‘Say No CPO’ campaign. Despite £200,000-plus worth of shares being suspiciously purchased once the Club’s ‘offer’ had been made public on October 3rd, SNCPO managed to obtain enough support for its initiatives to prevent the Business from securing 75% of the shares it required through the EGM vote on the 27th in order to hustle through a proposal to buy-back the freehold of Stamford Bridge.

For many, myself included, showing support for the SNCPO campaign wasn’t about being in disagreement with the oft repeated mantra that Chelsea need to play in a bigger stadium if they are to compete with the elite of Europe, it was about fair play, consultation, egalitarianism and letting supporters have a say in the way the Football Club administers itself, now and in the future.

Whilst Gourlay continues to rant on about Chelsea having outgrown the Bridge, and for now only having the ‘eighth biggest stadium in England and the 61st biggest in Europe’ (honestly Ron, we know … everyone knows), solicitors working for the SNCPO campaign have written to The Takeover Panel, an independent body that supervises and regulates takeovers and administers the City code on takeovers and mergers, to request a review of the events which preceded the vote. Chelsea chairman, Bruce Buck, openly declared that the Club “don’t know who bought the shares”, and whilst we wait to find out, and with the CPO AGM looming, the prospect of a fresh vote being called is a real possibility. Given the open criticism and suspicions associated with the recent vote, it will be extremely interesting to see how the Board of Directors approach the task this time around.

Chelsea being Chelsea, controversy is never too far away … and if the victorious SNCPO campaign was celebrated by the press and general public alike as a triumph of democracy, the horribly drawn out saga related to the allegations made against Blues captain, leader and legend, John Terry, that he racially abused QPR defender, Anton Ferdinand, continues to taint both Club and player with a politically-correct-when-it-suits-them media eager to pounce on any opportunity to inflame the issue. As it turned out, they didn’t have long to wait; the misguided chant, “Anton Ferdinand, you know what your are”, initiated by some supporters at the Champions League game in Genk, provided ample fuel to stoke the fire.

Whilst UEFA are unlikely to investigate the latter incident because it was not recorded in the referee’s report, Kick It Out, football’s equality and inclusion campaign, have called on Chelsea to act regardless of this fact. KIO chairman, Lord Herman Ouseley, immediately requested the Club identify those fans responsible for the ‘deplorable’ chants. For their part, Chelsea issued an official statement which read, ‘The chanting last night by a vocal minority was wholly inappropriate and Chelsea Football Club does not condone such behaviour. We will be working with the appropriate authorities to seek out those responsible.’ That should have been the end of it, but no … step forward QPR manager, Neil Warnock, whom, in his infinite wisdom, decided to prod a stick at the hornet’s nest by hysterically declaring that offenders should be, “put in prison for about two years each”.

I’ve never had much time for Warnock’s out-spoken opinions. A journeyman pro and manager, with a yoyo career of promotion and relegation, it’s ridiculous to think that back in 1991, whilst manager of Notts County, Old Captain Birdseye Bates considered hiring him as Blues manager … had that happened, God only knows what the disastrous chain of events that would surely have followed might have looked like.

In the twenty years that have passed since then, Chelsea Football Club has amassed a glittering array of silverware … beyond our wildest dreams. If I had to put a stake in the ground that pinpoints the date from where this success stems, I would say 4th June 1993, the day Batesy installed Glenn Hoddle as player-manager. Hoddle revolutionised the Blues style of play, was respected enough to be able to attract Ruud Gullit to the Bridge, and the rest as they say is history. Meanwhile, having guided Notts County to the top flight, Warnock soon guided them out of it again and left for pastures new, eventually winding up at Loftus Road via Torquay, Huddersfield, Plymouth, Oldham, Bury, Sheffield United and Crystal Palace. Hoddle then was the catalyst for the Blues future success, the man who brought a former World Footballer of The Year to Chelsea … and as for Warnock, how will he be remembered by QPR fans? I can’t answer that, but the rest of us will recall him signing an over-opinionated former jailbird (Joey Barton) and a convicted drugs cheat (Paddy Kenny).

We’d had a good laugh at Warnock’s expense as the Magic Bus whisked us from leafy South West London to Blackburn, but as the temperature dipped and the signs of economic deprivation became more prevalent, the conversation returned to the matters at hand. In their preceding two league games, Chelsea had been mugged by a card-crazy referee and raped by a goal-greedy Gooner … and if that wasn’t enough to focus the mind … there was now the added concern about crowd behaviour. As usual the preying eyes of the media would be watching …

The Beatles once sang about there being ‘4000 holes in Blackburn Lancashire’, well if John Lennon had been alive and well at Stamford Bridge the preceding Saturday he may well have changed the words to ‘4000 holes in the Chelsea defence.’ On the playing front we had four key questions. 1) How would AVB set up his team? 2) Would JT play? 3) Could Chelsea keep a clean sheet or, worst case, score more than they conceded? 4) Would the once more profligate Fernando Torres find the net?

The answers to questions 1 and 2 were secured whilst Thwaites-mild-handed and consuming a fabulous Hollands Meat & Potato pie in the car park of the Fernhurst Public House … a liberty-taking hostelry in the shadow of Ewood Park which sees fit to levy an entry tax of £2 on match-days. With beleaguered Rovers boss Steve Kean’s Porklife-loving players likely to pose a significant aerial threat to Petr Cech’s goal, AVB opted for a stout back four which thankfully saw Alex restored to the heart of the defence alongside JT with Ivan deposing the increasingly flimsy Bos at right back and Ash continuing in his customary position. The only surprise in the starting line-up was the demotion of Torres to the bench.
The answers to questions 3 and 4, namely Yes and No, were finally provided when referee, Mike Dean, blew the final whistle.

In between times the True Blue massive was treated to a truly moving, though incorrectly conducted, pre-match Remembrance tribute, an hilariously lengthy episode in which a light aircraft circled above the ground trailing a banner requesting the dismissal of the Rovers gaffer, a fabulous headed goal from Super Frank and an astonishing miss from the unfortunate Torres who’d entered the fray as a second-half substitute for the ineffective Malouda. The game was a rumbustious affair from start to finish that Chelsea, somewhat fortuitously, shaded against desperate opponents. The three points secured were most welcome and, perhaps more importantly, this, the first clean sheet in the league since the opening day of the season, went some way to restoring faith in AVB and his ability to cope with the stern rigours of the English game.

Off the pitch, Chelsea supporters were understandably in a subdued mood. The amusing “Your grounds too big for you” coupled with plenty of vocal support for JT and some choice dietary advice to Porky Robinson under the Rovers bar put a smile on many a True Blue face, but in truth you could almost sense the foreboding that anything sung would be misinterpreted and held against the Club and its fans.

At the time of writing, investigations are ongoing into both the Terry-Ferdinand affair and the associated chanting at the Genk game, and whilst we await the outcome, many are wondering if the whole episode hasn’t been blown totally out of proportion in respect of the far more serious political and economic issues which are destabilizing our society today. That is not to condone what is alleged in anyway, but the set of circumstances surrounding this controversy need to be put into comparative perspective and since all readers of this fanzine are avid followers of Chelsea Football Club and are aware of its history, I’m sure no further explanation is required. For those that aren’t … let’s just say that what is required here is a serious dose of common sense. As is becoming commonplace now, irresponsible media reporting is harming the very fabric of our lives.

Enough is enough – Fight the real enemy.

MARK WORRALL

twitter @gate17marco

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THE DAY AFTER TOMORROW

Chelsea India — Sun, 09 Oct 2011 13:55:34 +0000

Chelsea FCs recent proposal to buy back the freehold land on which Stamford Bridge sits has ignited a tinderbox of frustration amongst the match-going Blues fraternity which has been smoking away since the end of last season when rumours of a move from our ancestral home coupled with hikes in season ticket prices and the unceremonious sacking of Carlo Ancelotti contributed much to a summer of discontent.

The intriguing and thus-far successful appointment of Andre Villas Boas initially deflected attention away from discussions about the basic economics involved for most of us mere mortals regularly, or perhaps that should read habitually, attending matches at Stamford Bridge, but that soon changed when the controversial pricing policy for Champions League games was announced by the Club.

I have no axe to grind with our munificent owner Mr Abramovich; far from it … Were it not for him, Jesper Gronkjaer, Matthew Harding, Clive Walker and a certain Kenneth William Bates I have no doubt that Chelsea Football Club would have gone to rack and ruin around about the time that Pates went up to lift the Members Cup.

Countless articles have been written lambasting successive regimes at Stamford Bridge for their willful neglect and brazen ignorance in all matters related to pricing, and now, with talk of a move to a new stadium, the question on many True Blue lips is, “at what cost to us?” Well, unless there is a volte-face, the answer is disproportionately more than what could be considered to be equitable and fair … reason being, the myopic mandarins responsible for this year-in-year-out financial treachery are, like the players, in basic salary terms, not living in the real world.

So what is going on in the real world?
A financial crisis of epic proportions … that’s what.

Tune into the BBC news channel at any given hour of the day and the chances are that within a few minutes the screen will be dominated by the beady-eyed, raven-like persona of ‘business editor’ Robert Peston. In a nasal whine reminiscent of Carry On star Kenneth Williams, Peston regularly explains in finite detail the economic machinations of the markets in a ‘glass-half-empty’ manner that leaves the viewer believing we are doomed to a life of penury.

Peston has good cause to be miserable about life because he is an Arsenal supporter! By the time you get to read this article, by my calculations, it will be 6 years, 4 months, 27 days, 19 hours, 55 minutes and 22 seconds since the Gunners last won a trophy … an explanation in itself for Robert having such a wretched, gloomy demeanour.

All joking apart, Peston speaks the truth. From what I can see, a world slump is guaranteed. It is certain. It may as well be written on tablets of stone. The world economy is completely out of kilter. Western consuming nations are terminally over-borrowed, China has geared itself up for a fantasy world of unending increases in the demand for its factories’ output whilst governments and their feeble economists have run out of corrective strategies … all that is left for them are the voodoo economics of money printing. Mark my words, there will be a lengthy epilogue of spin and propaganda suffused with one or two false dawns, but the truth is that we are all going to be properly shafted … no lubrication! It’s going to hurt … a lot … and it will be the end of the decade before we crawl out of the long harsh economic winter that is setting in, by which time Chelsea Football Club will no doubt be charging £5,000 for a season ticket at its state-of-the-art, 60,000 seat, Samsung Stadium adjacent to Battersea Power Station.

As the UK lurches back into belt-tightening recession, the board at Chelsea Football Club should pay heed to what has already happened to the false economy of Greece and its citizens and will surely happen in Italy and Spain. With many people’s finances as brittle as the Arsenal defence, you don’t need to be the Chancellor of the Exchequer to ascertain that with increasing need for austerity something is going to have to give, and in Chelsea’s case, if due care and attention isn’t taken by those responsible, the effect on the Club, at a time when it releases unsettling news, could be cataclysmic.

Why?

95% of match-going Chelsea supporters are proud of the Clubs history and tradition and have a deep-seated emotional attachment to Stamford Bridge.

95% of match-going Chelsea supporters do not have a bottomless pit of money to feed their True Blue addiction.

95% of match-going supporters believe that the Club is financially selfish to its regular patrons in respect of ticket pricing.

95% of match-going supporters are of the opinion that the Club is more interested in marketing itself to a global audience than addressing their many sensible requests and helpful suggestions related to domestic ticketing.

The list goes on … and on … and on!

Ah, but what about the 5% who don’t complain?

Well by my calculations, with the current Stamford Bridge capacity hovering around the 42,000 mark that equates to 2,100 fans that would turn up regardless of personal circumstance and feeling towards the Club. It’s an extreme scenario, but not beyond the realms of possibility that ongoing wilful neglect of match-going supporters could result in a dramatic decay in attendances for those games which are not pre-paid by way of a season ticket and with year-on-year season ticket sales down, who knows where it could end?

Football clubs derive their income from three core elements. Match-day revenue, broadcasting revenue, and revenue from commercial activities. The most recent data available from the Deloitte Football Money League shows that for 2010, Chelsea’s coffers copped for £209.5m (revenues split 32% match-day, 41% broadcasting and 27% commercial). Interestingly enough, the Clubs match-day revenue had fallen by 10% year on year and this was attributed to a poor Champions League campaign. Deloitte’s summary of Chelsea’s fiscal performance …“The limited capacity of Stamford Bridge, and the limitation this places on match-day revenues will make it challenging for Chelsea to return to the top five in the Money League in the near future.” (Real Madrid, Barcelona, Manchester United, Bayern Munich and Arsenal are the current top five.)

Significantly, it’s worth noting that 42% of the Goons revenue is derived on a match-day whilst Bayern, where admission cost is much lower make just 21% of their income this way. Now ask yourself the question. Which of these two sets of supporters make the most noise in their stadium? It’s not rocket science, or is it?

It’s too early to tell how the Premier League’s £1.7 billion deal with Sky will be affected by the recent European Court of Justice ruling related to the permissible use of non-Sky decoders to broadcast live football. In the most extreme case, monies paid out to the clubs could be reduced as could the number of people clicking through the turnstiles. The knock-on effect could result in football Armageddon with many smaller clubs reliant on income from broadcasting rights being financially choked to a lingering death resulting in administration, expulsion from the League and, ultimately, extinction.

What does it all mean for match-going Blues fans like you and me? Sadly, all I can see is a continued increase in match-day costs that do not reflect the bigger economic picture. A move to a new stadium will not necessarily bring with it any concessions, nor does it guarantee success … just ask Mr Peston and the 60,000 disaffected, wallet-sapped Gooners that inhabit the Stade Jihad at Cashburning Grave.

I’m certain, as match-going Chels, we are as one in respect of a shared opinion on ticket pricing, as for the proposed move away from the Bridge that could prove divisive. My view, for what it’s worth, is that I find it very hard to believe that with all the financial muscle at its disposal, to say nothing of access to some very fine legal brains, the Club has not conceived a workable, executable plan to sufficiently increase the capacity at Stamford Bridge to meet its objectives.

Please remember WE ARE ALL CHELSEA. I’ve been pretty vocal in the past in my criticism of the way certain individuals tasked with running the Club attend to their business, but I believe right now that personal insult and slander will achieve nothing as will fighting each other. For me, there is a window of opportunity open now for Chelsea FC to offer not just an olive branch to match-going supporters but a whole tree … an orchard might be asking too much. A period of supporter consultation, coupled with slide-rule economics and an open-book policy are required if the Club is to win the backing of its real fans in respect of any proposed move away from the Bridge.

I hope that the senior officials at CFC exhibit the wisdom and foresight, that has been missing thus far, to work towards a win-win scenario that unifies all associated with our great Club.

I pray that when the day after tomorrow dawns, it is a Blue one for all the right reasons.

MARK WORRALL

twitter @gate17marco

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MIKEL – BOY to MAN

Chelsea India — Mon, 03 Oct 2011 18:18:59 +0000

With True Blue eyes focused on the early season posing, preening and posturing of the players as they adapt to life under the latest managerial regime imposed on them by Mr Abramovich, it has been interesting to see just exactly who has been cutting the mustard, and of course who hasn’t. Thus far there have been some notable surprises, and some all too predictable disappointments.

With our munificent owner never afraid to get his cheque-book out, several existing members of the squad inherited by new gaffer Andre Villas Boas clearly had a point to prove. The fabulously mono-browed right-back anti-hero, Jose Bosingwa, rumoured to be surplus to requirements, has been as much a revelation as stuttering striker Fernando Torres has flattered to deceive. The arrival of Juan Mata, whose goal-scoring cameo debut as a late substitute against Norwich City has already endorsed his reputation and endeared him to supporters could be just the catalyst needed to spark the game of his fellow Spaniard Torres … let’s hope so for his sake, because I don’t half like the look of that boy Lukaku. With his boxers physique, the Belgian will have Premier League defences soiling their pants in messy nervousness when they see his name on the Chelsea team-sheet.

Another player who has caught the eye (for the right reasons) is Mikel. At the Britannia Stadium in Chelsea’s opening game of the new campaign with Stoke City, the Blues tigerish midfielder Mikel John Obi … as he prefers to be called in comparison to John Obi Mikel, John Mikel Obi or some less gracious names uttered by the impatient boo-boys who patronize the Bridge in unfortunately increasing numbers these days … silenced his detractors with a combative, cultured and composed display against a typically brutish Potters outfit that negated the worry about the loss through injury of the hugely influential Michael Essien.

John Michael Nchekwube Obinna, as he is known to God, arrived at Stamford Bridge in June 2006 on the back of one of the most fraught and complex transfers in football history. As a kid in Nigeria, he’d started out his career with Plateau United, where another former Blues favourite, Celestine ‘Baba One Baba Two Baba Three’ Babayaro, had learnt his trade. Selected to play for his country at the FIFA Under 17 World Championships in 2003, the Nigerian FA misspelt his name Michael as Mikel when filling out his registration form for the tournament. The youngster liked it so much he stuck with it when he moved to South Africa briefly to play for Ajax Cape Town and then curiously to Norwegian outfit, Lyn Oslo … and that’s where the transfer merry-go-round fun and games really got started.

In April 2005, Manchester United announced the signing, from Lyn, of the then 18 years old Mikel on a four-year contract reputed to be worth an initial £4 million. Despite being photographed at a press conference holding a Manchester United shirt bearing the squad number 21, Mikel went on the missing list whilst watching Lyn play a Norwegian Cup game, with rumours abounding that Chelsea had lodged a counter claim indicating that an agreement was already in place for the highly coveted midfielder to come to London. Mikel’s disappearance prompted United’s then assistant manager Carlos Queiroz to churlishly suggest that he had been kidnapped by Chelsea. Following a dramatic appearance on Sky Sports News during which Mikel passionately expressed his desire and ambition to play for the Blues, FIFA eventually intervened and instructed the player to return to Oslo to see out the remainder of his contract with Lyn.

Old bacon-face Ferguson’s face must have been a picture when Chelsea professionally resolved the matter and Mikel was whisked away from United for a £12 million sweetner. Lyn Oslo received £4 million as part of the deal and, having finally signed to play for Jose Mourinho’s champions, the player was finally granted a UK work-permit in June 2006 in readiness for the forthcoming season.

Unlike many, I’ve always had a lot of time for Mikel. The shenanigans surrounding his transfer catapulted the youngster into the spotlight and with it came the high profile pressure of playing for the Champions who were rarely out of the papers thanks to the Machiavellian, mercurial, madness of Mourinho.

The Special One strikes me as the type of guy too full of his own self-importance to put a protective arm around a young player and stories abounded that Mikel was over-embracing the party lifestyle the Capital has to offer. Nevertheless, on the pitch there was plenty to cheer about. The infamous game with Reading at the Madejski Stadium in October 2006 that would change the life of Blues goalie Petr Cech forever saw Mikel take his first early bath after earning two yellow cards from referee, Mike Riley. The first came in the 43rd minute when Mikel tripped Stephen Hunt who had maliciously assaulted Cech at the start of the game, the second in the 62nd minute after a spot of impromptu wrestling with Sonko. Chelsea won the game 1-0 and Mikel’s heroic indiscretions were lost in the uproar surrounding Hunt’s unpunished, life-threatening, challenge on Cech.

It took a while for Mikel to get his head together, regain his focus and sort out his problems off the pitch before Jose started to play him regularly again, but the improvement was their for all to see. His first goal for the Blues came in an FA Cup tie with Macclesfield Town on the road to Wembley in January 2007 and Mikel’s cult status with the Gate 17 crew was assured during the ridiculously ill-tempered Carling Cup Final with Arsenal at the Millennium Stadium the following month when Howard Webb sent him off for his part in the mass brawl which ended proceedings.

The final third of the season saw Mourinho finally deploy Mikel in the holding midfield role that has become his trademark, and assured performances cemented his role in the side. The season culminated in a stellar performance in the extra-time FA Cup Final victory over Manchester United … Mikel the player had finally arrived, and he was recognized by the Club with the ‘young player of the year’ award.

Of course, old school Chelsea supporters love to see finesse and style on the pitch … but we also love a bit of swashbuckling skullduggery especially when perpetrated against players we love to hate. Step forward Everton captain Phil Neville. The occasion, a Carling Cup semifinal tie at the Bridge. In the 55th minute, handsome boy Mikel lunges at the grotesque gargoyle-like Neville, referee Peter Walton is unimpressed and it’s another early bath for the Nigerian who leaves the pitch to a standing ovation.

With the departure of Claude Makalele, and Michael Essien injured, the 2008/9 season gave Mikel the opportunity to further enhance his burgeoning reputation on the pitch. Off it, Chelsea fans were kept entertained by a drink-driving conviction earned when police spotted Mikel in his Range Rover ‘driving erratically’ at 5.30am near Stamford Bridge. The 15 months ban that followed ensured that Mikel would not be competing in the “players lifts trophy”, a competition in which the hard working fanzine sellers endeavor to blag match-day lifts from Putney Station to Fulham Broadway as the players drive to the ground. All joking apart, the episode caused shame and embarrassment to the lad and forced him to re-evaluate his life. With his mind now solely focused on playing football, Mikel helped Chelsea win the Double under Carlo Ancelotti and continued to impress at International level though he was unfortunate to miss out on the 2010 World Cup Tournament through injury.

Still only 24 years old, Mikel started the current campaign with over 200 appearances to his name in the Blue of Chelsea, and as we travelled back down the M6 following the 0-0 draw with Stoke City there was plenty of praise for his compelling performance and what might have been if that 75th minute, right-footed pile-driver had burst the Potters onion bag.

The following day, news broke about the abduction of Mikel John Obi’s father Michael in Nigeria. It transpired that Chelsea had notified Mikel about the kidnap prior to the Stoke game but he had wanted to play in the game because he didn’t want to let down his team and family.
It’s a remarkable story, and fortunately one with a happy ending as Michael Obi was subsequently freed by police having endured merciless beatings at the hands of his captors. Manager Villas Boas praised Mikel’s, ‘amazing mental toughness’, and Chelsea also released a statement that read, ‘Mikel has shown outstanding commitment and professionalism during this most difficult of times, and the club will continue to offer its full support to him and his family.’ Unlike the Club, Mikel himself also graciously mentioned Blues fans when thanking people for the support shown to him during his family’s ordeal.
With both Manchester clubs establishing their credentials early this season, Chelsea will need every ounce of the newly matured cool, calm and collected Mikel’s tenacity, guile and steely will-to-win if they are to mount a sustainable challenge.
Mikel John Obi … You’re the man!

MARK WORRALL

TWITTER : @GATE17MARCO

THE OUTSTANDING CANDIDATE FOR THE JOB

Chelsea India — Thu, 04 Aug 2011 19:10:47 +0000

As last season drew to a disappointing close, many match-going Blues fans were secretly looking forward to a quiet, football-free summer. With no World Cup or European Championships to obsess about, there would be the usual media-fuelled back-page conjecture about who would be next through the constantly revolving managerial door at Stamford Bridge and which players Mr Abramovich was going to be held to ransom for mingled with the noise being created by Citeh feeder club Arsenal, Citeh themselves courtesy of the Tevez saga, the Ryan Giggs affair and delusional Liverpool supporters proclaiming their beliefs that the Anfield Reds are about to become a major force in English football again … in other words, nothing to write that holiday postcard home about.

As it transpired, on May 22nd, Carlo Ancelotti, whom just a short year earlier had been celebrating guiding Chelsea to an historic first Double, was relieved of his managerial responsibilities at Goodison Park on the final day of a trophyless campaign … the shrill beep-beep-beep of referee Peter Walton’s full-time whistle still ringing in his ears.

Quiet speculation about when Carlo would be sacked was immediately replaced by frenzied rumour-mongering about whom his successor might be. Guus Hiddink was immediately installed as the bookies favourite. There was plenty of talk about the ‘return of the Special One’. Pep Guardiola was mentioned in dispatches as were various ‘dream-team’ combinations involving Mark Hughes, Gianfranco Zola and Steve Clarke. For one utterly terrifying week the odds on H*rry ‘the twitch’ Redkn*pp becoming the next gaffer had shortened to almost evens and worse still it was being reported that we could expect to see serial loser Avram Grant back at the Bridge as Director of Football. One by one though, the favourites withdrew from the running, with first choice Guus Hiddink curiously ruling himself out of the job by insisting that Ray Wilkins, the man whose contentious sacking back in November had precipitated Chelsea’s spectacular loss of form, be re-hired as first team coach.

Cometh the hour, cometh the impressively named Luís André de Pina Cabral e Villas-Boas. One month to the very day that Carlo walked the plank with a cutlass at his back never to return, Chelsea confirmed the appointment, on a three year contract, of 33 years old Villas-Boas whose services had been secured following the payment of £13.3 million to FC Porto required to trigger the escape clause in his contract. The official Club statement proclaimed, “Andre was the outstanding candidate for the job. He is one of the most talented young managers in football today and has already achieved much in a relatively short space of time.” I did wonder if the “outstanding candidate for the job”, was in fact the only remaining candidate for the job, given the fact that even Mr Abramovich would not have been foolhardy enough to appoint his trusty adjutant, the eminently ridiculous Michael Emenalo, to the post.

I recalled reading similar statements from Chelsea Football Club on two previous occasions …

1st June 2009 : Carlo Ancelotti announced as manager : “Carlo was the outstanding candidate for the job. He has proved over a long period his ability to build teams that challenged for, and have been successful in, major domestic and European competitions.”

17th September 2009 : Ron Gourlay announced as Chief Executive : “Ron was the outstanding candidate for the job. It was not necessary to look outside as we had someone with all the necessary attributes inside which was important as it ensures continuity and a smooth transition.”

As I’m sure you can all imagine, having reread the announcements on the Chelsea website, I found myself rolling around with laughter, tears as big as August strawberries rolling down my cheeks … but still I was grateful, after all Chelsea’s latest outstanding candidate for the job could have been a lot worse.

“If you’re good enough, you’re old enough”. It’s a familiar phrase that has been trotted out since time immemorial. Alexander the Great assumed the kingship of Macedon aged 20, Joan of Arc led the French Army to the siege of Orleans aged 19, William Pitt the Younger became British Prime Minister aged 24, Steve Jobs founded Apple aged 21, Mark Zuckerberg set up Facebook aged 20 and André Villas-Boas won a treble consisting of the UEFA Europa League, Primeira Liga and Portuguese Cup aged 33 in his first and only season in charge at FC Porto.

Hysteria followed the appointment, with the press dredging through Villas-Boas’ short CV. His time as a member of fellow countryman José Mourinho’s back-room team at Stamford Bridge and subsequent appointments came under the closest scrutiny as did his coaching methodology. With so little to go on, we became jaded by the dull, monotone repetitiveness of what was being written about him. Relief came with the news that Blues legend Roberto di Matteo had been hired as assistant first team coach, and whilst many bemoaned the fact that Chelsea had allowed the brilliant Steve Clarke to slip through its fingers, there could be no-doubting the general enthusiasm being displayed by supporters in respect of the new appointments.

With news reaching us via the unlikely sources of John Mikel Obi and Salomon Kalou that the new boss had instilled what appeared to be a novel concept to them of training with a football, it was with curiosity as much as anything that we headed down to Fratton Park in good humour and fair voice to watch the Blues play Pompey in what was another landmark game for me in my time watching Chelsea.

With age comes an obsessiveness with lists, the flames of which are fanned by the media who regularly provide us with lists for just about anything that can be listed. We absorb these lists and mentally create lists of our own … it’s a guaranteed cure for insomnia. Forget counting sheep, try listing all the football grounds you’ve visited, in the order that you’ve visited them … or how about all the Chelsea managers Mr Abramovich has fired in order of the amount of compensation paid out.

As we headed out of rainy London town down the A3, one list came to mind that I knew I would be adding to come kick-off time at 3pm. My Chelsea ‘age list’. This particular list starts with a Second Division game at Brisbane Road, in which the Blues famously beat Leyton Orient 7-3. 10th November 1979 to be precise. Making his senior debut that day was Colin Pates. I’m a couple of months older than Patesy and it was the first time I recall being older than a player on the pitch. I’m sure you can guess where this list is heading … other landmark dates include, 3rd January 1994, a 4-2 home thumping of Everton, notable for the fact it was the first time I was older than the entire Chelsea team, which incidentally was Kharine, Johnsen, Sinclair, Peacock, Wise, Newton, Shipperley, Stein, Burley and Dow … 15th August 2004, a 1-0 victory over Manchester United in the opening game of the season with a new manager, Jose Mourinho, in charge at Stamford Bridge. I was now older than all the players and the gaffer as well. With Jose’s departure came a succession of managers who were my elder so things didn’t feel too bad, but the appointment of Villas-Boas had me thinking … 16th July 2010, Portsmouth away, my first Blues game when I could say with a fair degree of certainty that I was old enough to be the father of all the players and the manager as well! It brought a whole new meaning to the expression, ‘Go on my son’.

I like AVB. He talks the talk with an assured modesty. He would appear to have gained the respect of the senior players in the squad. He has grand plans to play the type of expansive football we love to see Chelsea playing and of course he has the ambition to match that of the Clubs owner.

Luís André de Pina Cabral e Villas-Boas, outstanding candidate for the job, I hope you are given the time to fashion a team of sparkling Blue diamonds which will make us proud …

Go on my son!

MARK WORRALL

TWITTER @GATE17MARCO

Mark Worrall is the author of the cult terrace classics ‘Over Land and Sea’, ‘Blue Murder … Chelsea Till I Die’ and ‘One Man Went to Mow’ and the co-author of ‘Chelsea here Chelsea there’. All titles are available to buy, with savings of up to 50%, at www.gate17.co.uk

Fixtures analysis – By Abhishek Easwaran

Chelsea India — Thu, 04 Aug 2011 19:04:34 +0000

With the season just around the corner, the time is right to provide some fixture analysis:

Most of us know how important fixtures play in any team’s preparations for the season, a Sheffield Wednesday fan for example could not possibly hope for anything better than 90 minutes of admiration for the other team they played, whether it is Chelsea or any other big club – too expect a win would surely be too much to ask for.

The Premier League fixtures are now out, and here is my take on whether the Blues can win the title back from Manchester United.

Pre-season: With pre-season almost finished AVB takes the team to Scotland, where Chelsea take on Rangers at Ibrox in a friendly on the 6th of August. This is followed by the mid-week International friendlies where we can only hope that nobody gets injured.

There seems to have been be too much travelling before the season actually kicks off, just one home match would have been nice.

August-September: There are six matches, we start off with an away trip to Stoke where it is important to get off to a winning start. Then a big worry comes on the 18th September, when the team goes to Old Trafford to take on United. The other fixtures are quite straightforward, we face West Brom, Norwich, Sunderland and Swansea – Should we win five of these, then we will be in the driving seat.

My Opinion: We will five out of six games, which is a real must if we want to have a real shot at the title.

October-November: In previous seasons Chelsea have struggled in November, and I think this trend is bound to be broken as we face Blackburn Rovers, Liverpool and Wolves. Meanwhile, October could be tricky as we face Bolton, Everton, Arsenal and local rivals QPR whose fans will be keen to get one over us.

My Opinion: Whilst wins against Bolton and Everton would put us in a comfortable position, victories against ‘Pool and Arsenal would be the icing on the cake but the occasional hiccup will not hurt us too much as long as we take care of the Bolton and Everton games.

December: The deciding month!?!?! The busy December sees us take on the Magpies (A), Manchester City (H), Wigan (A), Spurs (A), Fulham (H) and Villa (H). Needless to say this is a tough set of fixtures during this period, and I would not be surprised if we dropped points.

My Opinion: Unfortunately, I cannot see this month being particularly lucrative when it comes to points gained, a very tough month.

January-February: A period that every Blues fan will be looking forward to as we will play Wolves, Sunderland, Norwich and Swansea in January. In February, there only three games, but they could cause us problems as United come to town. The other games see us play Bolton and Everton.

My Opinion: The Chelsea-United fixture at Stamford Bridge will be very important, it is likely to once again be a six-pointer.

March: A month with five games, we should beat the likes of West Brom, Stoke and Villa but could struggle against City(A) and Spurs(H) who could both be battling for the Championship.

April: As the business end of the season comes into to play, there will be a lot to smile about with games against Wigan(H), Fulham(A), Newcastle(H), Arsenal(A) and QPR(H). Whilst the latter two could be difficult, if we are serious about winning the league these are games that we will need to win.

My Opinion: It looks harder on paper that it actually will be, Newcastle looks tricky but we know how badly they struggle as the season reaches its’ climax and the same applies to Arsenal.

May: Liverpool(A) and Blackburn Rovers(H) conclude the season, the trip to Anfield will be crucial, a deja vu to the double winning season.

Conclusion: Can we do it? The first six fixtures are vital, we MUST win those games allowing us a cushion for the very difficult games in December. We cannot afford to slip up in January or February, and finally, not dropping points at Craven Cottage and Emirates in April would probably ensure our fourth league title.

Looking Back and Moving On

Chelsea India — Tue, 07 Jun 2011 15:21:15 +0000

I recollect the visuals of Claudio Ranieri wearing a Chelsea scarf and applauding the crowd at Stamford Bridge in what would be his last game as the Chelsea manager. John Dykes was speculating about the impending sack and personally I had a hard time coming to terms with it. After all, we were beaten to the Premier League by a squad of undefeated players and we were without first two goalkeepers in the last two months. We reached the Champions League semi-finals and would have gone ahead but for a goal off Morientes’ hand. We even beat Arsenal en route in an unforgettable game at Highbury. I was livid at the thought of Ranieri being sacked. Now here was a nice gentleman, almost like a genial grandfather, who was being cruelly sacked. Surely he deserved another chance. It simply did not make sense. I loathed the decision so much that it took a lot of time for me to warm up to Mourinho. Jose was everything Claudio was not. He was young, abrasive and courted controversy like it was a seductive temptress. He was guilty until proven innocent as far as I was concerned. However, the methods worked for him and more pertinently, it worked for the club. Clarity is always a challenge when one is in the center of a situation than outside.

In May 2004 no one could be utterly certain that the managerial change was the right thing to do and yet it turned out right. And as a fan, I was probably the worst stakeholder to judge the situation. I had just too much of an emotional investment to think clearly in this matter. In retrospect, it was probably the insane tactic of putting three strikers on the pitch for the last ten minutes in the first leg at Monaco that blew the Champions League campaign. Claudio’s inability to strengthen the right side of our team which meant that we had clear weaknesses was probably the real reason for the inability to offer any meaningful challenge to Arsenal. However, I simply could not see this clearly in the summer of 2004.

The summer of 2011 is similar to the summer of 2004 in few respects and different in others. Both summers were preceded by a season without silverware even though the investment had been substantial, both seasons had investments reflecting the club’s ambitions and both seasons were a low after a high. Both gaffers had substantial reasons to justify the lack of silverware. Ranieri clearly needed time and players to complete his squad, he had to play the last two months with Ambrosio on goal and Arsenal were a very mature and settled team. Ancelotti had to manage a player turnover right after a World Cup summer, his loyal assistant was sacked, key players got injured and certain players did not turn up when most needed. The difference is that all of us are seven years and three league titles older, there is a marked change in the club’s ambitions and Mourinho is the benchmark for any manager to beat.

Living up to Mourinho’s back-to-back league titles seems to the minimum expectation from any potential Chelsea manager. And, there is of course the Champions League, which according to the press is the reason why Roman still breathes. There is certainly no doubt that the Champions League title is the next logical step. Cup tournaments are usually won in two ways – superior squad quality or superior discipline. As a club we seem to be confused about the means. We won back-to-back league titles with outstanding discipline, but it was not enough to win in Europe. The board decided to change strategy and decided that attacking quality is what is required. The person in charge of delivering it was Scolari. That did not work as expected and we moved to a two time Champions League winner in the form of Ancelotti.

Ancelotti failed to deliver in Europe being convincingly beaten in both seasons. The management did not make it easy for him this season by sacking Wilkins and appointing a seemingly incompetent Emenalo in his place. It is hard enough managing one opinionated subordinate in real life; but to manage a squad of international footballers with massive egos is a challenge for any gaffer. The role of a solid support staff cannot be discounted on a training ground where the gaffer will have to divide his attention between 25 players. Add the burden of reporting to the board, pressure from media and the expectations from the fans – you have an immense pressure cooker situation. It is hard not to feel sympathy towards Ancelotti. At the same time, these are the kind of situations which separate the wheat from the chaff. A manager will face resource constraints from time to time. He cannot let that be an impediment to performance. Hiddink pulled a free falling squad back. Even Avram Grant and Steve Clarke saw the team through post the departure of Mourinho. The management will look at these as superior examples compared to what we saw this season. In the cold light of the day, Ancelotti has not delivered what was expected of him.

Fans following Premier League clubs will always look for long term managerial stability given that two of the most consistent teams in the league have managerial stability. However, for that you do need to have the right man at the helm. Holding on to a manager simply for the sake of stability is not necessarily the best strategy. Benitez and Liverpool is possibly the best example (possibly Wenger and Arsenal). A manager for the long haul needs to have the ability to oversee squad transformations, win trophies regularly and keep the club amongst the cream of the league.

Apart from Manchester United and Arsenal, long term squad building is out of the domain of the manager. A manager can bring in some players as per his requirements, but that is about all he can do. This is really a necessity. You can never handover the long term future of the club to one man unless you are completely sure that he is integral to the club. This is why long term defense strategy of a nation will be independent of the incumbent government. Similarly, the academy recruitment and development of a football club runs independently of the first team. Therefore, we fans need to understand that the incumbent manager cannot be trusted upon for the long term future of our club. He has to earn that trust and the only way to do that is to show incremental improvement in the time he presides over the club. If it means building a case to bring in his own staff or players, he has to do it. The senior management will always question proposed investments (in this case, players and staff); it is up to the manager to put forward a strong case and fight for it. I suppose as far as the hierarchy at the club is concerned, the first team has deteriorated under Ancelotti and that he has not proved himself to be a capable enough manager for the long haul.

I am still speculating. There could be murky board politics behind the scenes for all I know. The constant managerial change however goes on to prove that the club is still in the process of finding the right man for the long term, which is clearly more than a 4-5 seasons. And it is only after four to five seasons when we will see proper synchronization of all squads viz. first team, reserves and academy. We will see the gaffer choosing young players and providing direction to the academy. Till such time we fans have to move on with our lives. We need not understand certain decisions, but we will have to accept it. We are definitely not in the best position to provide any sort of advice to the club; for if the club listens to the fans’ collective voice it will probably have to spend £ 300 million on just Messi and Ronaldo and bring in a gaffer with no managerial pedigree i.e. Zola. So let us sit back, reminisce the good momentswe have had with our past managers, enjoy the fresh rains and await the news.

Sea Sea SeaSiders

Chelsea India — Thu, 03 Mar 2011 03:30:37 +0000

May 22^nd 2010. Bathed in glorious sunshine, I’m sitting in the garden nursing an ice-cold beer watching JoJo coo over little Misty Blue whilst F*ck Off Colin fires up the barbeque. Life’s good. Chelsea have won the double and there’s the usual giddy expectation that England could do rather well at the World Cup which kicks off in a couple of weeks. Today, the Championship Play-Off Final is being played at Wembley, the game is live on TV, but Colin and me can’t be bothered with it. A foregone conclusion we’d surmised following a brief assessment of the tie. Cardiff City would be far too strong for Blackpool and the Bluebirds and their rowdy fans would, like as not, be enjoying life in the Premier League next season.

May 23^rd 2010. Bathed in glorious sunshine, I’m sitting in the garden nursing an ice-cold beer whilst reading a match report of the Championship Play-Off Final in the paper. That’s the trouble with being brief with an assessment, more often than not vital details are overlooked. Having said that, it’s unlikely that even the most wildly optimistic fan of the Tangerines would have backed Brett Ormerod to score the first-half winner which ensured a fairytale 3-2 victory for Ian Holloway’s un-fancied side. Out of the top-flight since 1971… the Seasiders had shown remarkable character in the manner of their triumph, having twice come from behind to secure the most lucrative promotion in the history of English football.

‘Brilliant!’ I’m on the phone to Uncle Tom. I can scarcely contain my excitement. ‘Blackpool have been promoted.’ ‘Aye and Elvis is dead,’ replies Tom, laconically. Day old news is old news, but the Scrabble grandmaster can’t curb my exuberance. ‘Blackpool away … that’ll be a top weekend … Bloomfield Road only has a capacity of 16,000 … tickets will be harder to come by than if Chelsea play Real Madrid, Mourinho and all, at the Estadio Santiago Bernabéu in the Champions League next season.’

June 17^th 2010. Bathed in glorious sunshine, I’m sitting in the garden nursing an ice-cold beer listening to the radio. All the chatter is about the World Cup, but the giddy expectation that England could do rather well has abated somewhat following a tepid 1-1 draw against the USA at the weekend. I’m more interested in the fixtures for the 2010-11 Premier League season which are released today. I go indoors and check the CFC website. Blackpool away, March 5^th 2011. I’m disappointed. I’d have been happier if it had been around the start of the new campaign, like it had been the last time, but March 5^th 2011 it is and so-be-it … plenty of time to plan ahead I think to myself, and meanwhile, plenty of time to reminisce.

Blackpool v Chelsea isn’t a regular fixture. These days the event is as rare as a sighting of Haley’s Comet. Chels had played out a lively two-legged, mid-week, tie with the Seasiders in the Second Round of the League Cup in September 1996, prevailing 5-4 on aggregate, but it was the last league meeting at Bloomfield Road between the Blues and the Tangerines which lives in my memory … well not so much the last league meeting itself but the events that surrounded it.

September 25^th 1976. Bathed in glorious sunshine, I’m walking down Palatine Road, drinking an ice-cold can of Tizer. ‘Tizer the Appetizer’, not half … it’s 11am and I’m famished. The Tizer appetizes me … I need a Meat and Potato pie. The last 12 hours are a blur … sort of. 11pm the previous evening I’d been larging it to the Northern Soul sounds being played out at the Blackpool Mecca. Looking a shade incongruous in my Brothel Creepers and PVC shirt I’d taken the fancy of this handsome looking woman who’d introduced herself as Margie. I’m 15 and Margie is more than old enough to be my Mum. 2am and Margie takes me home. She’s on early shift and needs her bed … I’m not complaining … I go to her bed a boy and wake up a man. My loins stir at the thought of what went before, there’s a spring in my step and I curb the pangs of hunger with an Embassy Regal. It’s only a short walk to the appropriately named Chelston Hotel where Pugsy is staying … a bit of a touch really as I’m not sure of my bearings.

Pugsy is like the older brother I never had. A Chelsea fan, like me at that time, living in the North … a shining beacon in a sea of griege. I’d first met him when he’d helped me out after I’d taken a proper kicking at Forest back in January. The second time was at Wigan Casino, the third at the Twisted Wheel in Manchester and so by the time our paths crossed for a fourth time at the Torch in Tunstall it was clear to both of us that we shared at least two interests. Pugsy was at the cooler end of the Northern Soul scene and loved messing with Punk. He took it all so seriously and knew all the tunes, whereas to me it was pure escapism from a troubled home-life. With my Dad in Windsor, my Mum in and out of Moorfields Eye hospital and my Gran looking after me, All Nighters, speed and everything else that went with that racket made the long hot summer of ‘76 go with a much needed zing.

Three hours later, Pugsy and me are walking down Bloomfield Road, Pugsy’s talking away ten-to-the-dozen, and I’ve got a mouthful of Meat and Potato pie so I’m just listening. Pugsy’s wondering where all the Chelsea boys are as we arrive at the Spion Kop turnstiles. Inside and Eddie McCreadie’s Blue and White Army is looking unexpectedly depleted, the Blackpool lads will fancy their chances. On the pitch Eddie’s sent out Bonetti ‘the cat’ under the bar, Gary Locke, Graham Wilkins, Gary Stanley, big Stevie Wicks, record signing at £225,000 David Hay, Brian Bason, star man Ray ‘Butch’ Wilkins, Jock Finnieston, Ray Lewington and Kenny Swain. I don’t know too much about the men in Tangerine, but their mustachioed centre-crash Bob Hatton looks remarkably like this bloke I’d seen drilling a couple of the chicks in the Dutch porn mag that Pugsy had given me for my birthday in June. Bonetti makes a couple of fine early saves but it’s Butch Wilkins that catches the eye and, with a little over a quarter of an hour gone, it’s his sweet pass to Kenny Swain that sets up the Blues for what turns out to be the only goal of the game … Swainy flicks the ball to Big Jock who hammers the ball into the net.

Chelsea fans celebrate. Blackpool fans have a go and Old Bill come on top.

We hear cheering coming from outside the ground. Reinforcements have arrived. The football special from London had been delayed when a window had been broken on the train and there had been a further hold up at the station. Plenty moan about the fact they’ve missed the goal. Plenty more don’t care. Boy’s in Blue, Division Two … we won’t be here for long.

January 4^th 2011. It’s biting cold and the wind is whipping down Sandy Lane cutting right through me. I get a text. It’s Uncle Tom. Chelsea’s away game with Blackpool has been moved from Saturday afternoon, March 5^th to Monday night, March 7^th to accommodate SKY TV. I’m gutted, Uncle Tom is gutted and a couple of thousand Blues fans who’d planned a weekend jolly at the seaside are gutted. Like most match-going Blues fans I hate SKY and I expect plenty hoteliers in Blackpool staring at a pile of cancelled bookings aren’t their biggest fans either. Only Old Bill will be happy, but who cares about them?

Uncle Tom and me will still go to Blackpool. I plan to have a Quadrophenia moment, just like Jimmy Cooper when he quit his job and returned to Brighton. It was Steph for Jimmy and Margie for me. God Bless her, she must be almost 70 now! I’ll have a Regal as I walk down Palatine Road, crack a can and toast that sweet memory of Margie, my old mate Pugsy who sadly passed away last year and the true Blue spirit of ‘76.

See you at the game.

MARK WORRALL

SCHADENFREUDE

Chelsea India — Fri, 04 Feb 2011 17:37:59 +0000

SCHADENFREUDE

“Schadenfreude … mmm, I’m sorry Mr Broderick, the UK.S.R.A is quite specific in its ruling about the use of foreign words, and I’m afraid this one is German.” Uncle Tom glared at the jobsworth official from the UK Scrabble Regulatory Authority. He wasn’t happy, and with good reason, Schadenfreude was worth 23 points, enough to have beaten arch rival Ian ‘slim’ Picken to the UK title; now he’d have to settle for the runners up spot and watch as the human spirograph took the plaudits, the trophy and the prize money.

I’d smiled as I’d watched the drama unfold, remembering when and where I’d seen the word Schadenfreude for the first time myself. 10.05pm. Tuesday 6th April 2004. Now I know what you’re thinking, that’s a bit precise isn’t it. Well it is, and with good reason, you see it came via a text message from another Uncle of mine called Robert. I’ve kept the text as it brings back many happy memories every time I happen to read it. I’d received the message shortly after the final whistle had been blown to signal the triumphant end of Chelsea’s Champions League quarterfinal tie with Arsenal at Highbury. The Blues had just shot down the Gunners 2-1 to qualify for the semifinals 3-2 on aggregate, and those of us penned in the Clock End were, to put not too fine a point on it, larging it and having a proper laugh at the Arsenal supporters as they’d traipsed out of the dilapidated old stadium wondering where it had all gone wrong. In case you’ve forgotten, then let me remind you with a delightful song which goes a little something like this. “Follow, follow, follow, there were only two minutes to go. It was Wayne Bridge’s goal that sent us out of control and sent the Arsenal out of Euro 2,3,4.”

After I’d prompted Uncle Robert, he’d explained what Schadenfreude meant. ‘From the German, Schaden (damage), and Freude (Joy), it means the very human pleasure taken in other peoples misery.’ Cheers Uncle Robert … the Blues Brothers were all Schadenfreuded up that night I can tell you.

The trouble I’ve always found with Schadenfreude, despite the fact that it is probably the greatest word in any language, is its pronunciation, and so it tends to be something I think rather than say … and the same could probably be said for plenty of other folk. Whether you can pronounce it or not, the fact is Schadenfreude has become one of the defining emotions of the 21st Century. We all love a bit of it, especially when it is football related. It relieves stress. Laughing at the misfortunes of other clubs, managers, players and pundits is what keeps us sane and healthy, and during the last couple of weeks in January, I’ll wager a shiny sixpence that every single person reading this article today was embracing Schadenfreude in all its glory thanks to the verbal antics of a couple of soon-to-be ex-employees of Sky Sports by the name of Andy Gray and Richard Keys.

Richard Keys I’ve never really had a problem with, I actually thought he was quite good at what he did despite his holier-than-thou smugness and the apparentness to me that clearly he is a man who loves the smell of his own farts. Gray on the other hand I have despised since the age of 14. Given the fact that I’ll bring up the half century this summer, that’s 36 years of pent up angst … so you can imagine all that lovely Schadenfreude I felt the day the news broke that the know-it-all oaf had been sacked from his mega-moolah job for ‘unacceptable and offensive behaviour’.

I realise that most people have only hated Andy Gray since 1992 when the Premier League was conceived and the risible Scotsman became a part of Sky Sports commentary team, so perhaps I should explain where the additional 17 years of loathing comes from … Topps Football Cards. For those too young to remember, Topps, famed for manufacturing Bazooka Joe bubblegum, had taken over A&BC Gum in 1975 in order to enhance sales of their own gum in England. Around this time Andy Gray had left Dundee United and his chilly Jocko homeland to sign for Aston Villa meaning his dodgy boat-race started appearing in the Topps ‘Red Back’ football card series that I collected. Too often for my liking as it happened. In fact in every other packet I seemed to buy, there he was. Card Number 160 … Andy f*cking Gray. By the time he’d moved to Wolves in 1979 for a then British record fee of £1.5 million, I’d managed to amass eleven Andy Gray’s for considerably less money. If only I’d been able to sell them for £1.5 million each … but no, I couldn’t sell them, I couldn’t swap them, I couldn’t even give them away … so in the end I stapled all eleven Andy Gray cards to the cork notice board in Uncle Robert’s shed and threw darts at them … a spiteful act which gave me an enormous sense of wellbeing.

If it hadn’t been for the football cards, I probably would have reserved my contempt for Andy Gray until much more recently, since try as I might, I don’t have any particular recollection of him scoring any goals of any note against Chelsea for any of the clubs he played for. I’m sure Smiffy or Kelvin might put me right here, but I vaguely remember Gray scoring just the once against the Blues and that was in his second stint at Aston Villa back in November 1985. For the record, Dixon and Speedie found the net for Chelsea in a 2-1 victory so his effort didn’t really matter.

Over the years Andy Gray has endeavoured to match his prowess as a goal-scorer with some impressive feats in the bedroom, fathering five children with four different women and leaving a trail of marital destruction in his wake that included bedding his best friends wife. With an unenviable reputation for being a womanizer, it was not surprising then to find out that he is also a sexist, though his fall from grace in the wake of the comments he made about female assistant referee Sian Massey and former Sky colleague Charlotte Jackson has been so swift many wonder if there is more to the whole episode than meets the eye.

I’d like to think that the mysterious YouTube assassin with the handle stevesimons409 who posted the final damning clip that got Andy Gray the sack is a Chelsea supporter. Forever and a day Gray seems to have had a negative agenda against the Blues and his anti-Chelsea comments over the years could probably fill several editions of this fanzine. As a match-going supporter, I don’t tend to see much of Chelsea on Sky, though I recall back in November watching Gray getting pseudo-analytical and picking unfairly on the Drog as he’d fooled around with that ridiculous oversized IPad following the Blues defeat at Anfield. ‘He goes down too easily’. ‘He doesn’t work hard enough for the team.’ ‘He doesn’t get back and defend.’

He was battling bloody malaria you idiot!

So what does the future hold now for Keys and Gray? Al Jazeera TV apparently! But does anyone really care anymore? Today’s Schadenfreude is tomorrow’s history. We’ve laughed at the text messages, we’ve grimaced with embarrassment at the YouTube clips, and now we wait in eager anticipation to find out who will replace them, for you can be sure as eggs are eggs that sooner or later some skeleton or other will coming rattling out of their wardrobes to dance guiltily for our collective pleasure.

MARK WORRALL

The Roman Empire – By Vineeth Ravi Varma and Debmalya Banerjee

Chelsea India — Wed, 02 Feb 2011 09:20:12 +0000

The Russian, relatively unknown in the UK at the time, saved the club from an uncertain future and possible bankruptcy, and provided the platform for which we have grown into one of the world’s largest and elite football clubs. The takeover was touted as the biggest in British football history without doubts.

It was indeed a night to remember in the history of the club, making Chelsea Football Club the richest club in the world, with the Forex playing a part in making the Roubles pour into the UK.

The papers read “Roman weds Chelsea FC, Football made in heaven!”, ”From the pensioners to the blues!”. Indeed it was like a wedding reception, because Chelsea fans didnt waste any time to welcome him on board and welcome him to our wonderful stadium, Stamford Bridge, The home of the mighty blues.

It was the beginning of THE golden era……….

From then on it was just the color of the mighty blues all around the world that went through a rigorous and sensational makeover making Chelsea a brand name worth reckoning within the shortest period of time. Not only has Roman embarked on this ambitious programme of the financial development of the club, but he has also shown considerable passion towards the game and the club.

Under his tenure, Chelsea has gone on to become a face of English football and one of the most consistent and successful clubs of the contemporary times. We have won Three Premier League titles, Two FA Cups, Two League Cups & Two Community Shields during the Roman era.

We have also reached the Champions League Final for the first time in the history of Chelsea Football Club in the month of May’08, under his ownership making it even more special by playing the final under his home town, yet another historical night to forget for the club considering the five times consistent Champions League semifinal performance.

A £100 million outlay on world-class players, that was the prize from Roman on his new foundation for the club, others called it a dangerous gambling spree. Indeed it was dangerous considering the enormous amount of money that was put forth infront of Claudio Ranieri but the resulting product was the end of Chelsea-Ranieri Era.

It was during the start of his tenure that a host of transfers of considerable importance was done, that of Joe Cole, Glen Johnson, Wayne Bridge, Arjen Robben, Damien Duff, Adrian Mutu, Hernan Crespo and Claude Makelele, the notable additions, but with the departure of Chelsea’s all time favourite and Legends of the legend Gianfranco Zola.

Success followed the next year with the additon of Champions league winning manager Jose Mourinho, the special one, indeed the special one within Chelsea hearts and a Premier League title, which made the Russian more than happy. Records spoke for us. Chelsea went on scoring spree and defended like a wall infront of goal. But the moment came when it was the night to be recorded as the most precious for Chelsea fans when Jose took Chelsea for back to back Premier League titles and embedded “Chelsea” in the history of English Football.

There were notable additions under Roman era the year later like the ones of Didier ”The Warrior” Drogba, Michael “The Bison” Essien, Michael “13” Ballack etc. Although there has been success through transfers under this era, there was considerable amount of flops too, like that of Andriy Shevchenko and Shaun Wright Phillips.

But Roman Abramovich’s efforts to strengthen the club is without any doubts crucial in our fortunes to date.

The one thing that makes Roman stand apart from any of the owners of English Top Flight Football is his passion for the club, an unquestionable scene, as he is seen cheering for the team in nearly every game, which has led to his liking by the fans. That is solely why this “We have the Roman Empire” makes us different from the “Hate you Glazers” to “Tom Dick and Harry, do whatever you want, don’t mess with our Club”.

With the long-term future of the club now secure, we can look forward to a continuing period of growth that has seen us become the world’s fourth-largest club in terms of turnover.

It is upto you to hold him high up in the sky or to criticize him just like how every other Manc does their owners. Let’s see if we still trust on the Roman blood and believe he can take the club further for even more greater heights.