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Chelsea: Fifa use sledgehammer to crack an egg

Fifa stepped up their bid to stop English clubs dominating European football yesterday with an extraordinary ruling over the transfer of Gael Kutaka.

It was ruled that Chelsea had induced Kutaka to breach a contract signed with his former club. The punishment handed out is the equivalent of using a sledgehammer to crack an egg.

It is particularly vindictive that the ruling was released just TWO days after the last transfer window closed, even though the decision was ruled on the 28th of August. Coincidence? I think not.

Another mystery is why has it taken two years to make a decision? Is this connected in any way with the Eduardo da Silva ruling in that it’s another commitment to punish English clubs. Is it now fashionable to pick on Premier League sides?

Chelsea: Ancelotti getting the best out of Ballack

Fulham away was nearly as good as it gets. Sunshine, cold beer, a cracking atmosphere and a 2-0 win over our closest rivals.

A hot summer Sunday afternoon always provides a good excuse to seek liquid refreshment especially on a match day and when the fixture is just over a mile further from the regular establishments.

The Chelsea fans were outstanding yesterday especially considering that the Fulham fans were so quiet. Roy Hodgson's team deserve better considering their Premier League placing last season and qualification for European competition.

Chelsea: looking forward to watching Ancelotti's adaptables

Now that the Community Shield is done and dusted and safely tucked away in the Chelsea museum for the next few months, thoughts turn towards the forthcoming Premier League season.

But before that starts in earnest we had the unusual prospect of an England game in early August. Whatever your thoughts on an international fixture so close to the start of the season, the game was actually quite entertaining. Even with Rio Ferdinand and Gareth Barry doing their best to throw the game, England performed well and Carlton Cole and Jermain Defoe may just have done enough for Fabio Capello to look at them again in a few weeks. Hopefully the guys who committed themselves to the squad last night will take preference to those who decided to take an easy route out and not participate due to having a slight groin strain or any other minor hindrance.

Chelsea: Players need to earn their money

Peter Sampson

What is the feeling among the fans for the forthcoming season?

Chelsea haven’t spent a whole load of money but with three astute signings, the imminent return of Joe Cole and key players such as Didier Drogba signing longer deals, Chelsea are definitely stronger than last season.

Guus Hiddink got the best out of the players and if he had taken control earlier Chelsea would have pushed Man Utd last season. If Ancelotti fails to make his mark in the early stages I’m sure Guus will be waiting in the wings as soon as Russia’s World Cup qualification is sorted. I don’t think Ancelotti will be the next Scolari, though.

What is the best you can realistically hope for?

If we stay clear of injuries and if the team can sparkle in Ancelotti’s diamond system, I can’t see why Chelsea can’t win the Premier League.

I don’t think Man Utd are as all-conquering as some pundits will have you think and I don’t think Benitez will ever win the League with Liverpool.

Both Chelsea and Man Utd were below par last year and the sale of Ronaldo will not improve their chances of retaining the Premier League. The Champions League is also another possibility although winning both may be little more difficult as Carlo may have to focus on one or the other as the season progresses.

And the worst?

Worst-case scenario would be for Liverpool to win the title. It doesn’t mean I’m predicting that it would happen but it would be the nightmare scenario for a lot of football supporters of a high school age in the 1980s.

With just one appearance in the Champions League final after what seems like a hundred semi-final defeats, another loss that late in the competition would also be hard to stomach for both the supporters and probably the board as well.

What have you made of the arrivals and departures over the summer?

Very shrewd. Nice to see some young English players at Cobham with the arrival of Ross Turnbull and Daniel Sturridge. Obviously the intention is to bring the average age of the squad down and prepare for any additional “foreigner” rules that Uefa can throw at us in an attempt to stop any English club performing well in European competitions.

Who will be your key player and why?

I can’t wait to see Joe Cole fit again. He lives to play football and I’m sure he would play for free if he had to. Joe is one of those players that can create a goal from nothing. He’s entertaining and exciting when he’s in form. Losing him for most of the second half of the season was akin to Man Utd not having Ronaldo fit. Personally I think Joe matches Ronaldo’s skill levels but as he’s grown he’s limited his show-boating which was something that Mourinho didn’t like in Joe’s game. He will be an important part of Chelsea’s season and of the England squad in South Africa next summer.

Is there a young player or a new face we can expect to make a name for himself this year?

The arrival of Yuri Zhirkov was a clever acquisition, which has gone rather un-noticed due to a low transfer value. However, a winger who notched up 26 goals in 74 games with his first club, Spartak Tambov, could make a surprise impact in his first season. Quite worryingly, though, Yuri used to support Blackburn Rovers.

If you could give the team talk before the season's first game, what would you say?

Get out there and earn your money!

In Defence

After a quick scan of the nationals this morning, it seems that there’s nothing to be said that hasn’t already been covered. Still, a fan should have the resilience to comment about last night’s fiasco, even while the bile of defeat is lingering on the tastebuds. Bile cappuccino for breakfast? I don’t recommend it.

There are no words to defend Didier Drogba, whose actions went beyond reasonable  protest and into the realm of the embarrassing and histrionic. Just as Eric Abidal and Co raised their hands and pleaded with the referee after what looked a harsh but perfectly defensible red card – what’s he going to do, change his mind? – so several Chelsea players felt the need to express their dissatisfaction in the strongest possible terms short of giving the hapless Norwegian a good kicking.

It certainly wasn’t right. But the incompetence that preceded it has only ensured one thing: that Manchester United will choke the life out of Barcelona’s much-vaunted attacking stars every bit as effectively as Chelsea did last night, and that UEFA’s showpiece final will have an ending every bit as predictable as the Titanic movie. I wonder what Sir Alex’s chuckle count was in the final minute or two of the game. Edging the dozen, I’d think.

After all the ill will, though, one can only offer some congratulations to Barca, who stuck to their guns and earned a priceless reward with the final round in the chamber. The previous wild shots may have all been blanks, but the last one was armour-piercing. And if you think that metaphor was laboured, you should have seen the tortuous bugger it replaced. It was, indeed, a brilliantly-taken goal from a player that I described last week as the world’s best central midfielder. On last night’s showing, any team coveting Messi should cast their eye a little inwards and wonder how much money it would take to prise this diminutive spectre from Barca’s grasp. He’s a genius.

By contrast, his Argentinian team-mate was comfortably held in check by stolid, creative and – for the most part – relatively comfortable defending. The nerves were mainly inspired by the narrow nature of the lead, not the constant piercing of the back line. Eto’o, who might as well not have been on the pitch for large swathes of the game, was the worst offender. How the blaugrana missed Henry.

And Drogba missed his chances. The big man’s profligacy in front of goal in both legs has come back to haunt us, as he disdained two golden opportunities to put the tie beyond doubt. Florent Malouda, working as hard as I’ve ever seen him, created decent attacking outlets that we couldn’t quite turn into goals. Frank Lampard lofted some beautifully-weighted passes into the Ivorian’s path. It wasn’t to be.

Make no mistake. If you’re leading 2-0 and walk off the pitch 5-2 down, you can’t blame a single refereeing decision for turning the game. If you have 3 or 4 chances to win the game and don’t, there are only so many excuses you can make if the result doesn’t go your way. I’ve read “3 or 4” penalty appeals. John Terry, I think, has been quoted as saying “5 or 6”. Personally, 3 sounds about right. But 2 of those – the shove on Malouda early on where a free kick was given outside the area, and Pique’s handball – were nailed-on, stone-cold, are you ****ing blind penalties.

Bitter? Damn right I am. If nothing else, now I have to consider the possibility that - shudder - I may be supporting United in the final.

Chelsea: cynicism or sense?

Now I know how Tony Mowbray feels.

See, earlier in the season the sages of Television Centre, Hansen and Lawrenson, were united in lip-curling contempt for the West Brom manager’s, er... optimistic, shall we say, approach to the game. Despite being ‘blessed’ with what is effectively a Championship squad sprinkled with players with some Premiership form – Jonathan Greening, for example – Mowbray insisted on playing the way that had brought his team success in the lower division the year before. Pass and move. Room in the middle. None of this negative campaigning. The players have talent, so let them express it.

Chelsea: Takes two to moonwalk

It’s easy for me to say it, and no doubt Liverpool fans won’t particularly want to hear it this morning. But all I can summon up is thanks. Thanks for contributing to a tie which has gone a long way to banishing the leaden memories we all have of previous encounters, and producing one of the most astonishing nights of football I’ve seen in a long time.

From the persistence and delicacy of Lucas – Lucas! – taking the vacant Gerrard role behind the striker to Alonso’s domination of midfield in the first half, and from Kuyt’s energy and industry to Mascherano’s complete nullification of Essien as a contributor to the game, Liverpool produced a barnstorming 90 minutes of football. The fact that both sides littered their intricate and occasionally scintillating approach play with some baffling mistakes at the back – Messrs Cech, Carvalho, Ivanovic, Skrtel and Reina were all more than culpable – may have added to the frenzy and created the spectacle, but it’s as far away from the catenaccio of previous games as it’s possible to get. Whatever the result had been, the forward trio of Messi, Eto’o and Henry would be anticipating a glut of opportunities in the semi-final meeting in two weeks.

So my applause and respect to Liverpool, a side that has exchanged plenty of bile with Chelsea over the past few years. Perhaps, with this game falling into step with a solemn anniversary in Yorkshire and on Merseyside, it’s fitting both that the game was of such mesmeric intensity, and that the two teams and managers showed respect and warmth to each other when the tie was over.

After all, it is only football. Heart-freezing, can’t-turn-away, can’t-bear-to-look, teeth-clenching football, sure. But, in the end, just a game. I hope we all remember that when the inevitable Champions League tie between these two teams comes around next year.

Something To Offend Nearly Everyone

I don’t know how other Fanzone writers go about it, but I like to set myself a challenge when I sit down to write a Chelsea piece. Something like ‘Don’t make a predictable crack about the lack of Salford-based United fans’ or ‘Try to avoid comparing delusional Toon supporters to the unwoken meat puppets in The Matrix’. In theory, it stops you from getting lazy and phoning in the gags.  In practice, it means that you can occasionally knock out an opening paragraph like this one, bemoaning rubbish stereotype jokes and using them at the same time. Hey, there’s a recession on.

Today’s theme is ‘Don’t mention Frank Lampard’ who, as the solitary seasoned Fanzone Chelsea reader – cheers Grahame - will tell you, is something of an obsession with yours truly. At this point, I’d go off into an extended paean of praise and harp on interminably about the man’s gifts, but not today. Today is ‘Don’t mention you-know-who’ day.

So, as the freakshow Gestapo redhead chap says in Raiders of the Lost Ark... what shall we talk about? I suppose there’s some sort of game coming up in midweek that’s probably worth of a mention, but the sheer ennui of metaphorically walking out of the tunnel and standing face to  face with sodding Liverpool yet again... well, pass me the Xanax and the Laphroaig bottle. Another pair of bloody cup ties with everyone’s favourite victims, and not even the cursory amusement of a little José to brighten up what promises to be another 180 minutes of stolid, turgid, indigestible football. The barium meal of the World’s Greatest Club Competition, if you will. Is there a more depressing sentence than "Some managers want to play too many mind games. With Hiddink, it will just be about football"? Christ, Rafa, the mind games were the most enjoyable bits of the whole debacle.

 Of course, you could never accuse Sir Alex of playing mind games: not when his barbed verbal hand grenades carry all the psychological insight of Lesbian Vampire Killers. Still, it was interesting to see him benefit from one of European football’s repellent legal loopholes at the weekend. For those that aren’t keeping up with soi-disant Saint Platini and his attempts to modernise a few of the rules (or, to your bigoted knuckle-dragging Barry, to hamstring In-ger-land’s great clubs in Europe) there was a recent presentation made to the European Parliament in which Platini suggested that labour laws be tightened. Specifically, the UEFA president wanted to make it illegal for 18-year olds to be the subject of international transfers.

I talked about this some time ago and it inspired some interesting debate. The pick of the comments were:

“What about youngsters playing in poverty stricken countries without proper facilities. It is not fair on them and hence the law will not be passed.”

Wonderful, “Sam”. That’s what the clubs are really up to... providing a much-needed service for promising young starlets to fight their way out of poverty. Christ, I can smell the altruism from here. Or is it bull****?

“So Platini thinks it's ok for the French army to recruit 17 year old kids and ship them abroad, but it's not ok for an English football club to bring in kids from abroad to play football until they're 18.
Laughable.”

That one, in case there’s any doubt at all, comes from “Wrightstuff”, so it seems safe to say that he’s a Gooner with one nervous eye on how much further off the pace Arsenal will get without the chance to buy job lots of skinny francophone Africans every other year.

I bring this whole issue up again because of the quote made by Lazio president Claudio Lotito today. Signor Lotito is rather miffed that Lazio had a promising 16-year-old half-inched from his books by a certain American-owned Salford-based company. This promising lad, now 17, then went and scored a rather important injury-time winner for said American company on Sunday.

“I talked repeatedly with Macheda's parents, we established a dialogue, but it was not possible to do anything. We could not compete with United's offer. That is not right, we have to be provided with more reliable and concrete rules than those which govern Italian clubs."

Frustrating. And don’t think for a moment that I’m singling out United: it’s just a timely example. Many “big” clubs do this.  And why wouldn’t you? It doesn’t cost you much. Italian law, like that of many other European countries, forbids the club from signing professional terms with the player until they turn 18. It’s a very similar situation to a few years ago when Barcelona were apoplectic at the sleight of hand with which one of their most promising teens was taken from them just before he was eligible to sign. You might have heard of him: Francesc Fabregas.

Yes, I can hear the United supporters cracking their knuckles as we speak, all ready to type their comments about jealousy and the League (for the record, I didn’t think we could win it before Hiddink won 6 out of 7 and I still don’t). It’s just so obviously wrong to do it. This is the part of the argument that I just can’t understand... the bit where everyone looks at Platini and starts bitching about bias, or prejudice, or anti-English sentiment, or whatever. How can it possibly, possibly be a bad thing to make the game less bloated? Look at Liverpool’s squad... 62 players, with 17 kids out on loan. Having said that, look at Chelsea’s squad before Mourinho trimmed it. Or our embarrassing snaffling of Leeds teenagers. Or any number of other incidents involving any number of clubs throughout the continent.

I’ll give the last word to another commentor from the previous Platini article, because it’s one of the purest examples I’ve ever seen of someone utterly missing the point.

“Yes, money has changed football, but it has made it better! Players are pushed to huge heights by the rewards of success and costs of failure. This is the first time ever that English people can honestly say the ability of teams in our top flight compares to Italy and Spain, and even that we have the "best league in the world". Because of this, we pump more money into it, and our footballers get paid more. The only thing that doesn't make sense is the lack of really large campaigns to have ticket prices slashed. Maybe it's because fewer people care about that one than is thought?”

Thank you, “Michael”, for editing out English football’s European heyday in the 70s and 80s, celebrating a business model which thinks it’s acceptable to pay people a reasonably large annual salary on a weekly basis, and ignoring the last gasps of supporter activism in the country.  Thank you, and good night.

Platini and the soul of football

Is it too late to save football’s soul? 

There’s much to admire in Michel Platini’s recent – and clearly heartfelt – appeal to the European Parliament. For those that haven’t had time to look over it, the two issues that stuck out for me were:

Chelsea: Something else broken

At times like this, your first reaction might be to rant and rave. All this talk about continuity, about consistency, about giving the manager the opportunity to create a legacy... all those things that Bobby Charlton was muttering about not so very long ago. Well, they’ve turned out to be so much hot air and Chelsea are looking to hire their fourth manager in 17 months. I've chosen to paraphrase Didier Drogba's infamous quote in the title, not because I believe that we're irretrievably in the mire, but because much of the responsibility for the situation we're in has to fall upon the players as well as the coaches.

Briefly electric, expansive and full of goals, Luiz Felipe Scolari’s Chelsea-ya turned out to be one-paced, containable and defensively suspect. In turn, the manager found that the world’s economic climate was against him. No opportunity to sign the fearlessly creative forwards that he craved. No chance to plug the ever-widening gaps in his ageing squad. Of the 20-odd men who lined up in Chelsea’s squad at the beginning of the season, I can think carefully and objectively and point to precisely 4 players that have come close to living up to their billing this term.

Nicolas Anelka delivered a mini-glut of goals earlier in the season, picking off lesser opposition with aplomb. There was, briefly, a temptation to imagine that Chelsea might be the club he needed to express himself, but non-performances against title contenders belie the initial optimism. Besides, I’ve been wrong before. I remember feeling terribly gung-ho about Juan Veron, a player that I admired and thought Alex Ferguson had never fully understood. Turned out that no one understood him, least of all Claudio Ranieri.

Ashley Cole has, if anything, looked as strong this season as he ever has in a Chelsea shirt. It almost seems unfair to criticise Ashley for humdrum performances earlier in his Chelsea career, as he’s not the sort of player whose work rate often comes into question. The false dawn of the attacking fullback has, unsurprisingly, suited him.

I’ve been harsh about Salomon Kalou in the past. Just when you think the boy is about to step out of Drogba’s shadow and prove precisely why he’s the player that van Basten was so keen to register for Holland, he goes and has one of those non-games where he gives the ball away 35 times and falls over a fair bit. But we’ve needed goal support in the complete and utter absence of Drogba in any game whatsoever this season – one cup sub appearance notwithstanding – and the boy has scored some important ones.

Finally, the evergreen, ever-committed and seemingly un-injurable – touch wood – Frank Lampard, who has yet again been Chelsea’s best, most influential, and most important player.

Everyone else has a case to answer. At a pinch, we might excuse Ricardo Carvalho, but the ever-more-frequent injuries tell their own story.

So while longing for the stability of, say Real Madrid or the Italian political landscape, what are Chelsea’s options? Are they willing to give Frank Rijkaard a real crack of the whip, or would he be tainted by coming in and steering us to, say, a simply-not-good-enough fifth place? Could Avram Grant  possibly get past the ignominious manner with which he was shunted out of the post not eight months ago? Dare we, Chelsea fans, dream of José saddling up a white charger and returning to triumphantly steal a third Premiership crown from under Sir Alex’s puce proboscis?

I’m going to go out on a limb here – and, knowing my luck, the man’s in the Cobham boardroom right now putting pen to paper - and say that Hiddink can absolutely do without this job. Why would a man two years Scolari’s senior - and being remunerated very handsomely for an international job which requires about 12 weeks of hard graft a year - want a job that has just chewed up and spat out a respected colleague?

Finally, a little sanity amongst all this heady talk about Saint Franco of Zola strolling in to save the world with his faithful equerry Steve Clarke. No one wants Franco to make a joyful return to the Bridge more than I. But let’s give him the chance to do it right... not to do it when we’re in a mess and desperately fighting fires to stay in contention for the Champions’ League places. Franco’s halo still shines as brightly as it ever did with the fans. Think how depressing it would be to see it tarnished through circumstances not of his own making.