TERRACE TALK: Reaction from the weekend’s top Premiership
This season was never going to be easy. The candle that burns twice as brightly, and all that. Too much of anything isn’t good for you, but of course it’s still never enough for some. It didn’t take long for some Liverpool fans to rediscover the divine right mode, whatever the circumstances.
Another injury to Sturridge, this time on our watch, unleashed all manner of outsider cackling.
The nature of the win at QPR did give us the last laugh, several last laughs in fact, but the loudest of all must surely emanate from Madrid.
Our only hope on Wednesday is if Ronaldo and co had seizures howling maniacally at our back four.
Perhaps the fear of a gigantic shellacking can shock our complacent players into the appropriate response.
Off the back of the tedious Raheem Sterling debate, Liverpool are becoming the national joke again. As Rangers equalised a second time, you instinctively heard the country rise as one to ask, “Who you blaming for that?”
There are some Reds who could tag Roy Hodgson for absolutely anything, often seeing him as some kind of geriatric ebola. As other nations sent our players back largely unused yet still broken, the debate about fitness training wound its wearisome way closer to Anfield’s walls than Brendan Rodgers would like.
If anything can put you back on track surely it’s a visit to woeful, wasteful QPR. Nervous types instead saw it as another chance to blast through our foot with the 12-gauge. This was the definition of a no-win situation.
Basement calamities can happen to the best, though. Rafa once flopped badly at Reading with the death sentence of a Champions League exit hanging over him, yet that turned out to be a decent season.
Were we as ropey as that yesterday?
Absolutely, but the home side couldn’t take its chances. Mario Balotelli is already looking a bad idea, the contrast to an ageing Bobby Zamora staggering and embarrassing.
The usual chaos at the back only served to distract observers from the fact Liverpool led from the front with a yellow-streaked mouse. Was it all planned, to preserve energy for Real? Doubtful, as that wouldn’t explain the poor passing. Besides, it’s only Simon Mignolet who needs to save stamina — for all that bending over into the net he’ll have to do.
At some point QPR were bound to run out of steam but they should have been out of sight before we called upon the fresh legs of Allen and Coutinho.
Balotelli’s outrageous miss just before that brought sniggers and headshaking.
It’s not actually funny but somehow the laughter dries the tears.
Even after a gift opener we couldn’t stop trying to wipe any advantage out.
What to do when you’re having a nightmare when the ball’s in the air? How about giving away a lot of free kicks in your own half? That always works.
So Coutinho ran up the other end and got us back in front. If they’d known it was that easy, maybe they could have done it from the first whistle instead of waiting for the desperate closing minutes.
As the ground shook with the second equaliser’s repercussions it was almost impossible to get excited about the winner (finally!) because it’s so short-term. The blunt fact overshadowing everything is that this manager will never solve his biggest problem.
The circus football keeps you entertained for now, it might even persuade one or two supporters that success can be achieved without a defence.
It can’t. On an afternoon of unintentional hilarity, Rodgers saved the best for last.
He gave overworked, tired Raheem a whole 30 seconds’ rest and sent Kolo on.
To do what? “Shore it up”? Now that’s what I call gallows humour.
Carlo Ancelotti appreciates a good joke, apparently…
It’s either feast or famine with the footie nowadays. Either we’ve the sort of wall-to-wall coverage almost every night of the week of club football that leaves me forsaking my missus and the soaps on the box in the living room, to slip off to watch yet another big game in the bedroom, to the point when it’s almost a relief to be able to spend a rare evening together. Or I end up so starved after a fortnight of the sort of tofu for the tastebuds, anodyne international dross that I’m left salivating for some proper round-ball nourishment.
Absence does indeed make the heart grow fonder. It was only a few minutes into the enthralling coverage of Saturday’s comparative fillet steak of an appetiser, in the early kick-off at the Etihad that I was reminded quite how much I’d missed the real McCoy. In the past I’d have watched the entire match, before charging around to our ground. But much like the old bull, in that even more ancient joke, with the wisdom of my advancing years, I prefer instead to stroll around and save sufficient energy to savour all the pleasures on offer. So far this season we haven’t lost a home league game and superstition decrees I dare not alter my pre-match pie ritual.
Piebury Corner came close to losing my custom with our premature Capital One Cup exit, until I came to the conclusion it was all my mistake, after adding some mash to my regular order.
I began to fret about having to forego a stop at my favourite eatery in future as the final whistle beckoned on Saturday. I also cast a glance up at Kroenke, Gazides and Co in the directors’ box.
With it looking as if we were about to lose at home to lowly Hull at that point, I imagined that they must’ve been feeling mightily relieved the AGM had taken place prior to such an infuriating game.
As Fabregas continues to rub salt in our “buy-back option” wound with each contribution to Chelsea’s goal tally and with what’s increasingly looking like outright negligence, not to have included a fail-safe option enabling us to terminate Jenkinson’s loan deal, I take no satisfaction in expressing my fears as far back as August, about the potential implications of Koscielny’s niggling injury only a couple of games in.
Instead of making excuses and gambling on waiting until January when it’s likely to be too late, why didn’t Arsene react by squeezing any available experienced defensive cover through the window before it slammed?
Sanchez would get the cold shoulder from the rest of the crew if he worked with me in the theatre. They wouldn’t countenance being constantly shown up by his incessant work rate. If it wasn’t for the Chilean setting up our last-gasp equaliser with his “never say die” intensity, after suffering two goals from the only two times the Tigers managed to get the ball down our end, the board might’ve endured a whole heap more dissent at an AGM scheduled for this week.
However, they need to be careful that they do not become a parody of themselves. Palace fans hold themselves up as something apart from the rest of us and they also target the “rich” clubs — accusing City of having no soul and on Saturday making a jibe at our owner and his “dirty” money. They display an “against modern football” banner at every game. But let’s look at the reality. They still are an active part in the modern game that they claim to despise and I assume that the Palace owners are not turning down those tens of millions of pounds from Sky and BT. Then there’s the money from their sponsors and from the sale of the dozens of repli-kits we saw the majority of their fans wearing. They also charge £40 to watch football effectively through a letterbox (with the post in the way) and with facilities (toilets) that some non-league ground may find embarrassing.
Even the demographic of their crowd is all about modern football — loads of middle-class families wearing half and half scarves, loads of women, loads of foreign fans. I’m not sitting in judgement by the way, this is a snap-shot of most Premier league grounds these days. My argument is that they should not be holding themselves up as some sort of template that is markedly different from the rest of the league
And let’s face it, if a billionaire rocked up to Norwood Junction tomorrow and started buying them Galacticos you wouldn’t hear a peep out of those moralistic self-styled ultras. And just to throw a little irony into the pit for you, if it wasn’t for Chelsea and our “plastic” fans Palace could in all probability now be out of business. In the 80’s Palace were broke, on the edge of footballing oblivion and owed huge money to the inland revenue. Even though Palace nearly doubled their ticket prices, 15,000 Chelsea fans attended the match there (outnumbering the home support 3 to 1) which gave the Eagles record gate receipts, allowed them to pay their tax bill and so carry on trading.
But let’s move on......
There’s no denying Costa has been phenomenal since he joined us and many fans have him down as the sole reason for our early success. His goal record is hard to argue with, but the Palace game demonstrated that success is rarely that simple. Hazard is mesmeric, Matic is a colossus, Oscar is demonstrating new elements to his high end game every week — I could go on but Fabregas is the man who deserves a special mention.
When he was at Arsenal it was evident he was a good player — but it’s only when you watch him game in game out that you really understand everything he brings to the team. His vision is priceless and Mourinho has ensured there are players around him who can make the most of this. Fabregas demonstrated on Saturday that even without Costa he can pull the necessary strings to guide us easily to a win.
And so from one of our latest acquisitions to our old war horse, John Terry. Terry captained Chelsea for the 500th time against Palace and he did so with his usual commitment, strength and pride. Terry has been at the very core of the most successful period in our history and was as intrinsic to this success as Mourinho, Drogba, Abramovich, Lampard or anyone else you’d care to mention. His passion, leadership and sheer determination is worth at least 10 points a season. You literally have to knock him unconscious to stop him playing — pain is merely an inconvenience. He takes his club responsibilities very seriously, dedicating as much time to the youngsters as to the first team stars. Ryan Bertrand yesterday revealed how he is always there for the Chelsea youth players — with advice and help — even going as far as paying for driving lessons for many of them. When players join Chelsea, Terry ensures they are welcomed and bought into the group immediately — all who have played with him having nothing but the highest regard. Captain. Leader. Legend.
CONNECT WITH US TODAY
Be the first to know the latest news and updates
