"He's here, he's there..."
A perfect afternoon, marred only by some woeful finishing and a nasty injury to Graeme Le Saux.
The Saturday weather was mellow and balmy, with a blue sky that perfectly complemented the green of the pitch. Larks were fluttering on the thermals, serenading the multitude gathered below with their mellifluous song. Our hearts soared with them as we bathed in the lukewarm glow of the late autumn sunshine...
We arrived at the Bridge to the usual warm welcome: my girlfriend Jennie, who was wearing a t-shirt and jeans, subjected to a body search by a nazi lesbian of a steward; what were they looking for, an AK47 ? A shoulder launched AA missile ? Or perhaps a dangerously sharp piece of paper - that was about the only thing she could possibly have had in her pockets - and me and Nobby running the gauntlet of contemptuous and challenging stares from the teenagers in blue suits, who were obviously looking for the slightest excuse to bar fans from the match. It's got to the stage where you feel grateful just to make it to the turnstiles these days. Why do we put up with it ? Because they know we have to if we want to see the football. I tell you one thing, though, it's a dodgy way of doing business, and I for one won't be sorry when the fans decide they've had enough - there'll be a Chelsea Football Club long after these megalomaniac half-wits have gone.
Predictably, with at least 10 men behind the ball at all times, there wasn't much room for manoeuvre, but to Chelsea's credit they kept at it. I lost count of the times I had to bury my head in my hands in frustration as the ball came infuriatingly close to going over the line. Unfortunately, Leicester's keeper was having a great debut, (although his kicking was appalling) keeping Leicester in the match time and time again, producing some flashy saves from long range efforts from Di Matteo, Leboeuf and Gullit in particular.
The pitch, although looking great, appeared to be quite wet, judging by the slipping and sliding that was going on. The ball was coming off the surface faster than people like Gullit and Beefy, with their precision passing, would have liked. This caused a lot of balls to elude their target, which caused some frustration. All the same, Chelsea had the match pretty well under control, although defensive errors caused "land" to have to make two excellent saves during the course of the game.
Le Saux only lasted about 20 minutes before appearing to trip over the ball in Leicester's 18 yard box, causing him to fall awkwardly on his forearm. He was obviously in some pain as he was helped off the pitch, later diagnosed as a dislocated elbow, imagine doing that to yourself.. Ruud came on for him, and had a solid game, although I can't help wondering if sweeper is his best position. All the same he did OK, with a couple of passes that made everyone in the ground gasp.
A man definitely to watch is Celestine Babayaro, he played with guts and skill, in one incident he turned a defender inside out and produced a snap shot from an acute angle that hit the bar, what a goal that would have been.
Tor-Andre Flo was very quick and technically excellent on the ball, but couldn't finish to save his life. It was a relief when they sent Coco on. Mark Hughes came on for a tired-looking Robbie Di Matteo, and looked useful. But the player of the day was surely Franck Leboeuf, who really was here, there and every-fucking-where. His defending was solid, his passing and vision were excellent, and of course the 30-yard goal, in the last couple of minutes, just as we thought we'd never get past that keeper, was an absolute peach. I was lucky enough to be watching from behind as he shot, the ball went straight and level until about 15 yards from the goal, when it started to bend outwards, finally lodging in the top right hand corner of the net. No keeper on Earth would have saved that, we went mental. Unfortunately, the bloke in front of us went mental as well, and wasn't happy till he'd kissed all three of us, lingering a bit bloody long with my girlfriend if you ask me.
The only thing of note that happened after that was Coco's usual ridiculous off-the-post shenanigans, how many bloody times must he do it ? Still, it didn't matter at the end of the day, three points well deserved, and some good entertainment.
The match was one-way traffic from the start, with Leicester immediately signalling their intention to get as many bodies behind the ball as possible, obviously going for the draw. It was so obvious that they were even time-wasting during the first half, taking ages to send anyone to take their corners, etc. Even Heskey, the only Leicester player with any obvious talent, was tracking back during Chelsea's attacks, and he's supposed to be their main striker.
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