We keep on winning but where’s the excitement?

IT’S all a bit quiet at Stamford Bridge these days…..and very, very dull.

We keep winning at home, which is always good, but not in a particularly exciting manner. I can handle that but occasionally you need something to get the heart racing. There’s no controversy in the papers surrounding Chelsea either — which some may find a positive I suppose. I don’t — we’re just another club at the moment — we’re not at all special anymore. Even Roman looked glum as he watched us put Huddersfield to the sword — although death by a thousand paper-cuts was maybe closer to the mark.

Saturday was a great day — making it through to the last eight of the FA Cup, watching Liverpool getting knocked out by lowly Barnsley — then seeing Arsenal get a hiding (all be it at the hands of United).

The Gooners especially needed bringing down a peg or two as the smug-ometer over at the Emirates has gone into overdrive in recent weeks as the Premier League trophy inches ever closer to North London.

Perhaps the long awaited attractive football will finally make an appearance this week and not before time. It’s an important period for us Chelsea fans. You’ll know the outcome of last night’s Champions League game — I’ll hazard a guess that we won. I’m hoping I made the game as while writing this, three flights to Athens have already been cancelled due to snow blizzards in Greece!

This weekend we face arch-enemies Tottenham in the first cup final of the season. They’ve undeniably improved under Ramos. I’m hoping that our superior squad will overcome any Grant frailties in the tactical department, especially as we have our African players back and Terry and Lampard are both free from injury and playing — and even Shevchenko made an appearance on Saturday.

We will also begin to see what Grant sees as his first team. Up to now there has been little choice in the matter due to the number of absentees for various reasons. Then there is the age old “keeping everyone happy” issue which is always difficult.

This game may mean little to the press but the fans are counting the minutes until kick off. We simply cannot lose this game — those years of league supremacy would count for nothing if they actually won a pot at our expense.

It’s not often that Sepp Blatter and I are in agreement on anything — but I had to admit to being very pleased when he came out so vehemently against Game 39. He is not opposed to this idea for any ideological footballing reason, but that it’s not a competition thought up and managed by his organisation — and he won’t make any cash out of it. He has even gone as far as to threaten England’s chances of hosting the World Cup should Game 39 go ahead.

But Scudamore, the Premier League chairmen and TV companies only see revolving dollar signs and so are carrying on with the championing of this disgraceful proposition despite the outrage from supporters in England and those that govern the domestic leagues in some of the countries named to hold 39th game.

But hey — my opinion counts for nothing — as an individual that is — but there is power in numbers!

Back to this weekend’s Cup Final — the difference could be Lampard. He has now scored 101 goals for Chelsea from the midfield — an astonishing statistic. For those of you that can be bothered — look up how long it took him — then look at the same stats for Steve Gerrard — what the hell, look at their stats for England too. You will see once and for all who is the better player.

But my gut feeling is that it will come down to strikers and that will make for an interesting game — Drogba and Anelka vs Berbatov and Keane. On paper our boys have it, but Anelka and Drogba have had no time to play with each other and get to know how the other operates. But they are both top quality individuals and Ramos has still not had time to properly sort out that defence. That said, the Chelsea team and management should keep in mind the way Tottenham tore Arsenal apart in the semi-final.

The message? Don’t under-estimate them and go out and bring that first trophy home.