All for the greater good

Chelsea must face up to the uncomfortable paradox that while they should be in the Champions League final, there will be precious few bemoaning their absence from European football’s showpiece event, argues Liam Mackey.

MY OLD mate, the author and journalist Declan Lynch, has just published his latest book, Free Money, and it is with a complete absence of bias and a surfeit of envy that I can warmly recommend it to all those who are not of a nervous disposition.

The product of a life-time’s research and a year’s intensive hot-housing, it plunges the reader into the frenetic world of on-line betting, pausing every now and then for some reflective, hilarious and invariably painfully earned wisdom on the roles of addiction, delusion, sheer bad luck and the baleful role of the gods in relentlessly screwing up humanity’s eternal quest to master its own destiny.

Or even just to win a few bob.

Given that Chelsea’s exit from the Champions League was accompanied by shrieks of conspiracy, curse, cock-up and other more robust words beginning with ‘c’, I asked the expert for his definitive view on what went down in Stamford Bridge on Wednesday night.

“It was definitely a miscarriage of justice,” said Declan thoughtfully, “but a miscarriage of justice which results in the betterment of the human condition is a thing greatly to be welcomed.”

Not for the first time, but perhaps not as often as he would like, Mr Lynch is firmly on the money here. Yes, Chelsea were done wrong but, according to this revolutionary analysis, the villain of the piece, referee Tom Henning Ovrebo, is recast as Robin Hood, robbing from the rich (Roman Abramovich) to give to the poor (the masses who will huddle in front of television sets on May 27th hoping for a fiesta of football to make their miserable lives a little more bearable).

And yet we can’t help feeling Chelsea’s pain, can’t help guiltily averting our eyes as John Terry and Frank Lampard and Guus Hiddink line up to make the incontrovertible case that, over the two legs of the semi-final, the better side did not get what they deserved.

We even feel sorry for Didier Drogba, though we can’t help pointing out that had he put away the couple of the clear-cut chances which came his way before the roof fell in on Wednesday, there would have been no need for him to monster the referee at the death.

I say that Chelsea were the better side, which is not to say that they were the most attractive side. In the Camp Nou and again at the Bridge, Barcelona played most of the football that was pleasing to the eye but, as we pointed out here before, it was pretty much all foreplay and no penetration. Or at least not until added time on Wednesday night when Andrés Iniesta did his Roy of the Rovers bit after a full 93 minutes in which, astonishingly, Barca’s much vaunted attack had failed to get a single shot on target. (And, by the way, how bad was Samuel Eto’o on the night, eh?).

Chelsea, on the other hand, had four penalty shouts and at least two chances Drogba should have buried, and even then they managed to eclipse the Catalans in the wonder goal stakes with Michael Essien’s spectacular effort.

And yet, outside of west London, there will be precious few bemoaning Chelsea’s absence from the final in Rome, and partly for the same reasons that you wouldn’t find too many people succumbing to fits of weeping if, say, after being pushed all the way in the semi-final by one of snooker’s new breed of faceless, efficient tyros, Jimmy White made it to a world title decider by fluking the last black in the final frame.

And, indeed, how much more awful would the alternative prospect be if the said young snooker automaton did go through but only to contest a repeat of the previous year’s final, against, say, a Higgins who was not Alex?

I think you get the picture. We’ve had the all-England Champions League final and, mighty and all as Man U versus Chelsea was in Moscow last year, we are ready to move on, we are primed for something to stir the romantic soul.

Mr Champions League has already spoiled us this year – think of Barca walloping Bayern Munich, the epic battle between Liverpool and Chelsea, Ronaldo’s stunner in Porto and United’s sweepingly brilliant third against Arsenal. Now, we have the dream game, two of the greatest clubs in world football coming together in the final of Europe’s most prestigious competition, bringing with them a handful of the biggest box office names in the business – Messi, Ronaldo, Henry and Rooney, just for starters.

Of course, given that build-up, there’s every chance that those baleful football gods will decree that it will be a dud. But where better for hope to spring eternal than in the Eternal City?

The tough paradox for Chelsea is that, yes, they should be there but, no, they won’t be missed.