The unluckiest man in sport?

IT is just hours after the 2008 Champions League final and Roman Abramovich, the Siberian oil tycoon, owner of Chelsea FC and the new face of political and financial power in post-communist Russia, is drifting through the impossibly plush suites of Moscow’s Ritz-Carlton, the hotel he has booked for his club’s post-match soiree.

It was supposed to be a party, a riotous celebration of Chelsea’s coming-of-age as a continental superpower. Instead, it has turned into a wake: the west Londoners have lost to Manchester United on penalties in the teeming Russian rain, the players are tired, angry and pining for home, and Abramovich is struggling to comprehend how a night, which was supposed to represent a triumphant homecoming, has turned so sour.

Then, Abramovich spots him — a hunched, ashen-faced figure who looks as miserable as the oligarch feels. It is Avram Grant, the Chelsea manager and the man who was supposed to make Abramovich’s dream of a silver-soaked season a reality. The pair do their best to exchange pleasantries: the owner thanks the coach for his hard work and offers him commiserations; Grant, drawn and haggard, mumbles his gratitude and quickly makes his excuses.