Who do you think you're kidding ?

This was by some way the most complete Wimbledon performance I've seen in recent years: complete CRAP. They were pathetic. Either that or Chelsea dictated the game to such an extent that Wimbledon were unable to get going; take your pick. My theory is that the Dons were trying an elaborate con trick to lull us into a false sense of security, so that when we visit them in the quarter final of the Worthington Hiccup they will be able to surprise us with a stunning display of Total Football. I'll continue the report when I've stopped laughing...

It was a cold but windless afternoon at Stamford Bridge, so we had taken elaborate precautions against frostbite by consuming a few shots of antifreeze before we left the house, which led to enthusiastic discussions as to the outcome of the match. There were some wild and optimistic guesses flying around, like 3-0 from Billy the Bridge, with the rest of us offering equally stupid scorelines. I went for 2-0. None of us really believed it would go that way, but alcohol has a marvellous effect on your optimism levels..

Luca had decided to go with our reserve team, bringing back Le Saux, Leboeuf and Desailly, and going with Lambourde in place of Duberry. Flo and Zola were up front, with Gus Poyet slotting in just behind them. The game started off at 100 mph, as is usual in a London Derby, and despite a lively start from Wimbledon Chelsea were soon stroking the ball around purposefully.

Baba was pushing up, as were Le Saux and Petrescu, and at times it seemed that the entire team was playing in attack. It was only a matter of time before the superb Flo pierced the Dons' brittle defence with one of his impossible runs, then fired the ball viciously at the goal from an acute angle. Sullivan did well to parry the shot, and the ball rebounded straight to an unmarked Zola, who uncharacteristically blasted the ball over the bar from 6 yards. We couldn't believe it.

It wasn't long before the increasingly rampant Flo dodged past the defence again, and cut the ball back to Zola from the byeline. This time Franco made no mistake and slotted the ball into the corner of the net from 15 yards. He then dashed over to the dugout, shooed away Rixy's ball girls and grabbed a shirt, which he then waved around at the crowd. I think the idea was to dedicate his goal to poor Gigi Casiraghi, whose luck has been so awful this season that the only conclusion is that he has upset one of those irritating old women that thrust bits of heather at you when you're running for a train..

The movement and one-touch passing from Chelsea were breathtaking in the build-up to the goal, and more was to come. Wimbledon were hanging grimly in there, but were besieged from all angles and frankly looked as though they were going to crack at any moment. Poyet and Flo went close, but were foiled by Sullivan, and half time came all too soon.

The second half started with no substitutions, and the game took up pretty well where it had left off, with Chelsea looking bright and inventive. I was quite surprised by Wimbledon's failure to stop Chelsea from playing, but they'd left it too late. The boys were rampant, and inevitably they scored again after only 10 minutes. Dan Petrescu picked up the ball on the edge of the box and stroked an exquisite pass square to Poyet, who simply walked onto the ball and unleashed an unstoppable shot through a crowd of players past the unsighted Sullivan. Luckily Rab C. Dickson was in Glasgow on Saturday, so I managed to stay conscious as the celebrations ran their course.

Even after this Chelsea attacked in numbers rather than sitting on their lead, which they'd have been entitled to do, but this was such a good team performance that it was impossible - they could smell more goals, as could we punters in the crowd. The crowd were obviously lapping it up, and soon each stand was asking the others to "give us a song". The atmosphere was great. Amusing chants were "Are you Arsenal in disguise ?", and "You might as well go home".

Wimbledon seemed to have resigned themselves to getting off with 2-0, but they were unprepared for the party piece that resulted in our third and final goal. Beefy picked up the ball deep in his own half and set off down the right wing. His delicate pass found Zola, who juggled the ball with his instep and his heel before sliding a delightful, perfectly-weighted through ball to Super Dan. He went past one defender before slipping to the ground as he tried to round the keeper. We all groaned as we thought he'd missed a sitter, but somehow he managed to get to his feet while fighting off the attentions of the defender, and impossibly it seemed, calmly poked the ball past Sullivan into the net. The celebrations were impressive from where I sat, something I'm not usually in a position to be able to tell, due to the attentions of Mr. Dickson.

To sum up, I'd say that the team performance was the best this season, and some of the individual performances, namely Flo, Zola, Poyet and Beefy, were fantastic. Flo looked delighted to get a start and was enthusiastic and deadly, and Poyet is going to be in the reckoning for player of the year if he keeps this up. He's dangerous arriving late into the box and works hard for the team, and has the ability to score with all parts of his body, so much so that he's top scorer for Chelsea in the Premiership this season.

Leboeuf's defending is improving to go with his superlative long passing game and his unstoppable penalty taking, and he's looking the part. His understanding with Desailly is also growing by the day, as it should - they both speak the same lingo, unusual for Chelsea. This means that, for the first time since he arrived at the Bridge, Beefy realises when he's made a mistake. I'm certain I heard Desailly call him "a stupid French ponce" when he lost the ball in the penalty area on Saturday, although I freely admit that I may have lost something in the translation...

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