Terrace Talk Chelsea: One of those days when nothing makes sense

I am glad I didn’t write this column immediately after the final whistle on Saturday, otherwise this would have been a rant of epic proportions (like you haven’t read that before).

My language as we trudged back to the car on Saturday would have made a fishwife with Tourette’s blush. But now I’ve slept on it, the overwhelming emotion is one of confusion.

I just don’t understand a performance like that; how does one make sense of a game where virtually every player had a nightmare. It was about more than complacency because during those 90 minutes we saw the same mistakes committed again and again and again.