The day the race turned into a procession
I refer, of course, to Droggers. Five minutes in at Stamford Bridge yesterday and any hopes neutrals might have nurtured for a nail-biting denouement to the Premier League began to evaporate.
That was when, in a worrying sign of things to come for the visitors, Wigan failed to clear their lines after a set-piece and, despite a helping chest from an offside Florent Malouda, the flag stayed down as Nicolas Anelka pounced to put Chelsea one goal closer to the title.
Twenty-five minutes later and it was all over bar the trouncing, Wigan suffering the double-whammy of a penalty and a red-card for Gary Caldwell, with Frank Lampard stepping up to perform what is, for him, a routine bit of business.
But not for Didier Drogba.
No matter that United had just taken a one-goal lead against Stoke; the trophy was now as good as in Chelsea’s bag and if it wasn’t for Drogba’s incredible sulk we’d have had little reason to stay engaged for the remaining hour of the season.
You’d almost forgive Drogba his trespasses for his unerring ability to get up the noses of self-righteous media pundits and you’d certainly be willing to look on the bright side if, like his Chelsea team-mates, you can rely on him to find the back of the net with an even more reliable consistency.
And so it proved again yesterday, the golden boo-hoo boy turned golden boot man, as walking wounded Wayne Rooney was well and truly eclipsed by a hat-trick composed of a tap-in, a penalty and a classic back-post header after his wonderful overhead kick had been brilliantly kept out.
The golden boot, the hat-trick and the usual bit of controversy might have made Drogba the main man again yesterday but eight goals for the home side confirmed that, as before this season, Chelsea’s key advantage over the rest is that they were able to source goals throughout the whole team.
When the Blues were bad this year – as previously away to Wigan – they were very bad but when they were good they were absolutely ruthless, as three seven-goal sprees before yesterday would suggest.
That they would go one better with their final fling was a perfect way to finish it off.
Manchester United can have no grounds for complaint.
If neither Fergie’s nor Ancelotti’s team ever looked invincible this season, the fact remains that Chelsea won all the decisive battles, taking maximum points off all their nearest rivals.
But even though they can finish things off nicely by doing the double when they play Portsmouth in the FA Cup final, Ancelotti will need no reminding that the stakes will be even higher next year.
The Champions League, after all, remains Roman Abramovich’s holy grail.
Domestically, Alex Ferguson faces the bigger task in bringing forward a United side which, having already tasted the finest European wines, has been struggling to regain those heights both at home and abroad ever since Barcelona cut them down to size in Rome a little under 12months ago.
That, even without Ronaldo and Tevez, they managed to keep up the pressure right to the end of the season was an effort of sheer will as much as anything else but, when it came right down to it, they simply could do nothing about Chelsea’s superior fire power.
Sky Sports might not have liked it but, on what should have been the final death or glory sprint to the line, the neck and neck marathon suddenly turned into a procession.
Still, it could have been worse. You could have been watching Hull v Liverpool on Setanta.
Oh dear.
