Time to out Lamps - to be frank

MIDDLESBROUGH was a nightmare. Long journey in the driving rain, an absolutely awful performance, heavy-handed policing, we lose, then a long journey home again? I’ve had better nights.

Apparently John Terry smashed a water cooler such was his frustration at losing. Shame that sort of aggression was not produced on the pitch by the team — also a shame that they couldn’t be bothered to come over and acknowledge the thousands who travelled up there to support them.

But why were we so bad? Well, when the “engine” of the team performs badly, the play is going to suffer.

It is time to drop Lampard. There! I’ve said it! Out loud and everything! I’ve been mumbling it to myself for weeks, months even. It feels blasphemous, but it had to be said. I’ve used every excuse for him: “he was shattered — too many games”; “every player has a bad patch — José just has to stick by him and he’ll play himself through it”; “he set himself such a high standard in recent years, that it was always going to be difficult to live up to them consistently.”

Well it’s all gone on too long now and I am getting very annoyed. It’s very difficult to actually put your finger on what specifically he is doing wrong. His passing and shooting are inaccurate and very wide of the mark (literally). He used to be coveted for his battling quality but in this respect he seems a shadow of his former self. If Ballack lives up to the early promise he has shown, Lampard’s shortcomings will appear even more evident.

I feel ungrateful and disloyal writing all of that about Frank because when he’s on song, he is a tremendous player. The thing is, will benching him actually have the desired effect? Will it affect his confidence? Despite his evident poor form he does not seem to suffer from any lack of self-belief. I don’t know what the answer is, but José needs to sort this one out, one way or the other.

Our annual trip to Barcelona was confirmed last Thursday and I can’t say I am overly thrilled. I love the city but I am bored with playing them; bored with the hype; bored with the hysterical reporting; bored with UEFA’s perpetual Barça love-in and bored with the crap seats somewhere a mile above the stratosphere.

But the rest of the draw is going to be a blast. I went to Sofia last time we played out there and it was one of the maddest cities I’ve ever visited. Packs of wild dogs roamed the streets; it was the first (and only) time I was asked seriously: “Do you have a gun? No? Do you want one?”

As for Bremen, I have always liked football in Germany, reaffirmed by my visit to the World Cup. However it is a pretty tough group and we are led to believe Roman wants the Champions League this season. I’m not bothered and I have a horrible feeling José will be off once he has delivered it, so as far as I’m concerned it can wait. Apparently the personality-bypassed Gus Hiddink is waiting in the wings. Horrible thought. Having finally been served cordon bleu and become used to it, it would be like reverting to tripe and onions.

Ron Hockings is a name I bet no one bar Chelsea fans will recognise. He was not a footballer, nor a manager, nor anyone in the public eye, but he was a familiar face to those who have spent any time following Chelsea.

Ron was a supporter; I will not use the term ‘ordinary’ supporter as he was far from that. He attended more than 2,700 first team games as well as hundreds, if not thousands, of youth and reserve games. He organised travel for fellow supporters and helped them out with tickets if he could. But his real passion was statistics and he produced volumes over the years. Last Friday Ron lost his battle with cancer and, with his passing goes a little bit of Chelsea history. RIP Ron, a legend amongst supporters.

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