We arrived at the Bridge on a beautiful Sunday afternoon to find that there were seats to spare, for the first time that I've seen this season. Maybe it was because it was on TV, maybe because it was Sunderland, who knows ? Anyway, the atmosphere was strangely quiet. We had a perfect view from the top tier of the MH stand, we could see the animals in their enclosure clearly, and they were making a lot of noise, spoiling the nice peaceful afternoon for everyone. Three times before the kickoff I was rudely awoken by the these creatures squealing: "Sunderland, Sunderland..."

For the first half hour or so, it was the usual kind of stuff, with Sunderland largely staying behind the ball, frustrating Chelsea's attacking efforts. To be fair, I don't think Chelsea looked too comfortable during that time, they hadn't really clicked. Di Matteo came close with a long range shot that the French clown Perez made a huge meal of, almost spooning it into his own net, then making a better save from a shot by Den. Sunderland had a couple of half chances, but didn't really look like troubling Chelsea's defence (just as well).

Then, just as we got used to the idea of 0-0 at half time, it all went off. 15 minutes of football that went from the sublime, when the stunningly good Petrescu somehow crossed the ball while under extreme pressure for Zola to beautifully volley in from 15 yards, to the ridiculous, as Sunderland came back with two goals in as many minutes.

It all started with some beautiful diagonal passing from Den, who had been picking out Petrescu and Minto with ominous accuracy and frequency - the amount of space Sunderland were giving Petrescu and Minto on the flanks was criminal, but we weren't complaining. Dan went streaking away down the right of the penalty area, pulled back the ball and passed to Zola, who scored with the sort of volley they'll be showing in coaching videos for years. The balance of the man is his strength, it's perfect. Spare a thought for Dan, though - the way he got the ball across was miraculous.

A few minutes later, Zola provided the cross that led to Frankie scoring his first goal in ages. He's had a lot of stick recently, but as I've said before, anyone who plays with his commitment is OK in my book, and I'm really chuffed that he scored. He's also the only defender who's any good in the air, apart from Beefy. Sunderland's defence were like a bad Sunday league outfit, Frankie's goal saw both him and Den queuing up for the cross with no Sunderland player anywhere near them. I think they were trying to spring an offside trap, but you're supposed to move up before the ball's kicked, not 10 seconds after. Again, we weren't complaining.

2-0 at half time again. I'm sure I'm not the only one who worries when we're seemingly coasting to victory, I've been watching Chelsea long enough now, and know what to expect, but even with that knowledge I was shocked at how easily Sunderland came back at us.

The second half actually started off well, with Bob putting Zola through for what looked a certain goal, but the clown Perez blocked the shot, only for Dan to score on the rebound, and he deserved it. Then it went pear-shaped, with the two Sunderland substitutes scoring within two minutes of each other. It looked like one of those "tactical master strokes" they're always on about in the press, with Old Man Reed the beneficiary. You would not believe how quickly certain sections of the crowd turned on Chelsea, I always think that the last thing they need is people getting on their backs when things go wrong, they bloody KNEW that they'd blown it. Poor old Grodas, I know he's dodgy on crosses, etc., but for Christ's sake give him some support, don't just scream at him, what good does it do ? It just makes him more nervous.

The good thing about it was that Chelsea didn't fold up, they just got themselves together and started playing again. It proves there's some belief and spirit there, which hasn't always been the case. It wasn't long before the passes began to connect again, with Den, Bob and Zola providing the entertainment, ably backed up by Dan the Man. (Are you wondering why I haven't mentioned Minto ? It's because he was fucking awful - end of story.)

The fourth goal came from some inspired defending by Sunderland (again), whereby they politely passed the ball to Hughes, who obliged by stroking the ball past Perez into the far corner of the net - surprisingly, Hughesy didn't look too chuffed, maybe he had the hump about the lumps the Sunderland defence were taking out of him.

We thought it was all over in the last minute, but bugger me if Sunderland didn't give us another, with Vialli, who'd come on for Zola, and Petrescu providing Hughesy with his second after breaking. Where the hell were Sunderland's defence ? It was a stroll. To cap it all off, they gifted us with the sixth goal a minute later when Bob confidently pushed the ball past Monsieur Perez.

THE REF:

Gary Willard has to be one of the worst refs I've seen this season. He even managed to tackle Den, TWICE ! He booked Hughes for nothing, he had no control, not one player respected him on that pitch. He didn't protect Hughes against the cloggers for most of the game, then booked a Sunderland player after Hughes had fouled HIM ! Whatever drugs that man is on, I want some.

THE STARS:

• Dennis Wise, for magnificent passing, he always looked the part.
• Franco Zola, there's not much more you can say about the man except that he's in a different class.
• Bob Di Matteo, he works so hard and has so much skill and commitment.
• Frank Sinclair, for his verve and never-say-die attitude, not to mention the goal.
• Dan Petrescu, he's improving with every match, and is looking as good as the Italians.
• Luca Vialli for his patience, it must be hard when you're on the bench all the time and still the top scorer at the club.

Again, the rest did their part, even Grodas made a couple of lively saves.

Verdict:

A good laugh, nice to see six goals go in, but a bit unrealistic in terms of the Premiership. We're not likely to meet a defence like that again this season. And be very afraid about Wimbledon bombarding us from the air in the semi-final. They must be pissing themselves when they watch us in dead ball situations.