Chelsea Daggers in the Back.

Chelsea’s 3-1 loss in Naples on Tuesday was damaging. It was damaging to the team’s aspirations of ever winning the Champions League, as they now have a figurative mountain to climb in overcoming that deficit in the return fixture in London with a misfiring attack and a toothless defence. It was also damaging to the 34-year-old’s reputation. He had taken several gambles in his team selection, and from the result and the performance, it was an unqualified failure. Chelsea, languishing in fifth, looking at another Champions League exit and really struggling to gain any kind of form, are in dire straits. The worrying thing is, these are just the on-field problems. Off it, AVB faces player mutiny from the most political dressing room in the premier league, increasing pressure to play the ineffective Fernando Torres and continual speculation at his future, decided by the fickle oil baron Roman Abramovich. Damage, damage, everywhere.

Eyebrows were raised when the teamsheet was released for the Napoli game. John Terry, the Chelsea captain, was ruled out through injury, thus inducing AVB to play the less-than-ideal centreback pairing of Gary Cahill and David Luiz, both of whom proceeded to give a performance over the 90 minutes that would have made Laurel and Hardy proud. Far more baffling, however, was that Ashley Cole, Frank Lampard and Michael Essien were all benched. The three that took their places in the starting XI- Bosingwa, Ramires and Meireles, all had shockers. Bosingwa came off after 10 minutes with an injury, thus inducing Villas-Boas to use up a precious substitution early. The Sky pundit Jamie Redknapp raged that it was “managerial suicide”, and judging from the shambolic performance that ensued, in which Chelsea were arguably fortunate to escape from just 3-1 down, he wasn’t wrong.

As Graeme Sounness said, Ashley Cole at 90% fitness was better than Bosingwa 100%. The England left-back, as with his defensive colleagues, has not had the best season at Chelsea (the way he lost Theo Walcott in the 3-5 humiliation against Arsenal must will give him nightmares) but he still remains one of the finest in the world in his position, and when brilliant, has given performances for Chelsea that epitomize full-back play at its finest (Spurs away, for example). AVB’s decision not to start him and play Bosingwa - a right-back who can barely play in his natural role – out of position because the manager and Cole had an argument, just smacks of cutting one’s nose off to spite their face. Furthermore, not playing Michael Essien, a man who knows the role of defensive midfield inside out, in favour of Raul Meireles, whose error led to Chelsea conceding the equaliser, was another of AVB’s risky gambles that backfired spectacularly. And finally, the benching of Frank Lampard. To fans, Frank is Chelsea royalty and were we presented with an ultimatum between the 33-year-old midfielder and the 34-year-old gaffer, the Englishman would come out top every time. The power struggle between the manager and the man only 8 months his junior has been well documented by fans and the Media alike this season and whilst fans accept that Lampard no longer has the God-given right to demand starts at every single Chelsea game, he is still far better than any of the alternatives and should definitely have started for such a crucial match on Tuesday.

All that being said, some sympathy has to be given to Andre Villas-Boas. Managing Chelsea, for all its glitterati and glamour, is an unenviable task. John Terry, Frank Lampard, Ashley Cole and Didier Drogba have egos to match their salaries, and even the usually soft-spoken, diplomatic goalkeeper Petr Cech has a high enough sense of self-worth that he would not be averse to speaking out against the manager. It also is these five players, however, who have been dominant players in Chelsea’s success of the last few years. In the 2009-2010 season when they won the double for the first time in the club’s history, it was Lampard’s goals, Cole’s marauding fullback play, Terry’s defensive blocks, Drogba’s invention and Cech’s crucial saves that won it. Love themselves these men definitely do, but not for no reason.

The revelation that several Chelsea players were still in contact with Jose Mourinho, the manager who’s shadow every man following him has been living in, couldn’t have helped things. AVB must have been hurt to think of Frank Lampard or Ashley Cole sending their former boss a snide text every time AVB got it wrong (and there have been plenty of those this season). Furthermore, Frank whining to cousin Jamie, only to have Redknapp relay everything the Englishman says on TV, has got to be the most counter-productive way to try and get starts. As the age-old phrase goes, it takes two to tango, and the Chelsea camp is most definitely divided into a group of those who are Team Andre Villas-Boas, and Team, well, Andre is a Village Idiot.

But the fact of the matter is, those who are on Team AVB are also those getting starts, and whether or not said starts are deserved are bloody debatable. David Luiz, a man who has big hair, a big heart and a big sense of humour, also possesses big clown feet and cannot defend to save his life. Chelsea fans enjoy his warmth and happy smile, but when we see his name on a teamsheet, we fret. He is AVB’s biggest loyalist and AVB has paid Luiz’s loyalty in kind with starts throughout the season. In return, David Luiz has given performances riddled with defensive errors; on Tuesday it was a miskick that led Napoli to score their third – and most damaging – goal. Similarly, Raul Meireles has been given a string of second-rate performances in a Chelsea shirt this season, and Bosingwa at right back has gifted the opposition goals like it's going out of fashion. AVB has persevered with the Lusophone-speaking contingent of Chelsea this season, when their performances have not merited such perseverance, and that riles.

It is difficult to say where one can go from here. AVB has a vision for Chelsea’s future – the word “project” has rolled off his tongue continually this season – but I have a few words to describe how Chelsea is right now, none of them project, all of them four-lettered. The club is descending into a downhill spiral of internal politics and backhanded comments, with more drama than a month’s worth of Eastenders. I am not saying that Roman should sack AVB, because, frankly Chelsea have gone through more than enough managerial transitions to last a lifetime. Plus, Chelsea’s players need to take accountability for their atrocious recent performances and start playing for the team. But a big share of the blame does lie with Andre Villas-Boas, and he needs to get a clue, and fast, because the clock is ticking, and as Carlo Ancelotti, Luiz Felipe Scolari and Avram Grant can attest to, patience is not something the Russian has in abundance. For the majority of Chelsea fans, however, we have long given up on AVB. He would have to perform miracles to turn this sorry mess around now.

Review of the Songs on the “Heart” (S3E13) episode of GLEE

In order they were performed in the show...

01. L-O-V-E performed by Mike and Tina 

It’s always a novelty to hear Harry Shum, Jr sing, and he sings surprisingly well. Jenna Ushkowitz, who is often sidelined by other louder members of the Glee cast, has a terrific quality to her voice and their two voices complement each other perfectly, buoyed by some snappy Fred-and-Gingeresque dance moves as well as hilarious cut-aways to Rory and Artie competing for Sugar’s affections by trying to best each other at giving her tacky Valentines’ presents. 

I particularly liked it when Tina whipped up a paper heart magically and incorporated it into the dance. A-

Favourite lines from Lana del Rey's 'Born to Die'.

01. “He got a soul as sweet as blood red jam and he shows me, he knows me, every inch of my tar black soul” – Off to the Races

02. “I heard you like the bad girls honey, is that true?” – Video Games

03. “We all look for heaven and we put our love first / Somethin' that we'd die for, it's our curse” – This is What Makes Us Girls

04. “Baby put on heart-shaped sunglasses, cos we gonna go for a ride” – Diet Mtn Dew

05. “All my friends tell me I should move on, I’m lying in the ocean, singing your song” – Dark Paradise

06. “You said I was the most exotic flower / Holding me close in our final hour” – Million Dollar Man

07. “Come take a walk on the wild side, let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain, you like your girls insane” – Born to Die

08. “Because I’m crazy baby, I need you to come here and save me” – Off to Races

09. “I want my cake and I want to eat it too” – Lolita

10. “Now my life is sweet like cinnamon / Like a fucking dream I'm living in” - Radio

Three mini-restaurant reviews: KOBA (Soho), GARFUNKEL'S (Greenwich) and KNIGHTS OF ST JOHNS (Clapham Junction)

Koba (Soho)

A wonderful restaurant, easily one of favourite of the last couple of years! 

A Face for the Defence.

Yesterday, Harry Redknapp, Tottenham Hotspur manager – and widely believed to be the one who will succeed Capello for the England job – was absolved by a jury of 12 on two counts of tax evasion. The 64-year-old kept his relief well-masked, hiding his face as he hugged Milan Mandaric, his co-accused.

But in the public gallery, his 38-year-old son, Sky Sports pundit and former Spurs and Liverpool captain, Jamie Redknapp, gave a more visible display of euphoria. Making like his nickname, his eyes got redder and redder as he breathed a big sigh and got out his BlackBerry to text his wife and mother the good news. But Jamie could have probably afforded to feel more than just relief, as his continual presence at Southwark Crown Court probably helped his father in more ways than just moral support.

A tall, handsome man, Jamie Redknapp has been inundated with professions of eternal love from swooning teenage girls to middle-aged women alike [of which I fit somewhere in between *giggles*]. It’s the lethal combination of the Dianna Agronesque wide hazel eyes, cheekbones, irresistible smile, and excellent personal grooming; throughout the tax evasion trial, Redknapp Jr maintained his stubble to a standard where it was fashionable without looking hobo-like, sported a fine range of sharp Marks and Spencer and Armani suits, and kept his brown hair coiffured to a tidy side-parting.

Jamie’s tastiness is counterbalanced by his considerable shortcomings as a football pundit, particularly his fondness for the hyperbole. On Sunday’s thriller 3-3 between Chelsea and Manchester United, at half time, he compared Daniel Sturridge to Messi.

His chronic misuse of 'literally' is frequently a source of mirth; some of his nuggets of wisdom including “David Silva literally floated with the ball”, “Barcelona literally passed Arsenal to death” and “Gareth Bale literally has three lungs.”

Redknapp is also no stranger to the namedrop, he frequently likes to remind us that “my dad’s done this, my dad’s done that”, “I’m Frank Lampard’s cousin”, as well as his various celebrity and footballing friends at Spurs, Liverpool, Chelsea and on the England Team; when questioned in the Summer whether he thought Luka Modric would stay at Tottenham or go to West London, he began his answer with “I know Modric well.”

Indeed, like his father, Jamie has his favourites, which makes him a popular figure of mockery for fans of teams/players who he does not show bias toward (his laddish celebration at Aaron Lennon's equaliser in the 4-4 against Arsenal must surely make him persona non grata at the Emirates, and when Liverpool hosted City two weeks ago in the Carling Cup, the City fans took particular glee in singing "Your dad's going down" to the tune of "We won it 5 times" at the then-downtrodden-Jamie).

But it is this earnestness, I have realised, that is a big part of Jamie Redknapp’s appeal. Girls like a guy who means what he says, even if he says it 10,000 times per football match and casually misuses literally whilst doing so. His appearance at the tax evasion trial was primarily to support his dad, but what he probably didn’t realise, is that, sitting in the gallery, his twinkling pretty face was the model of an honest, reliable guy.

His loyalty to his father has been infallible (the only day he left early was to travel up to Anfield for the aforementioned Liverpool-City match, for which he was a pundit on), and whether he meant to or not, the jury must’ve, over the 13-day period, questioned whether someone who raised a son as decent and affable as Jamie could really be capable of being shady with his taxes.

In the past Jamie Redknapp has played for his dad at Bournemouth and Southhampton, and has also played against him, as a Liverpool player against a ’Arry managed West Ham. But as Redknapp Sr and Jr walked away from Southwark Crown Court yesterday, arms around each other, it marked the biggest father-son victory the two have known.

A top, top effort, Jamie Redknapp played an absolute blinder. And he didn’t even know he was playing.

Film review: MARTHA MARCY MAY MARLENE (Sean Durkin, 2011)

Martha (Elizabeth Olsen) has just escaped from a dangerous, manipulative cult, run by the sinister but charismatic Patrick (John Hawkes). She is taken in by her estranged sister, whose guilt over past sibling neglect drives her to warmly welcome Martha into her comfortable, happily married life. However, shaking off the trauma is far from simple. Martha is repeatedly plagued by visions of her past two years spent in the cult, under the name Marcy May.

Director Sean Durkin wanted an unknown actress for the eponymous lead, and held open auditions, before Elizabeth Olsen won the part. And indeed, I have never watched a film with her in, thus marking her introduction into the film world. But naturally, her surname precedes her; she is of course the baby sister of the Olsen twins, Mary-Kate and Ashley, whose transition from childhood TV sensations to fashion moguls was frequently overshadowed by tabloid scrutiny. Although I grew up with shows such as Two of a Kind and So Little Time and enjoyed the Olsen twins’ charm, I was never that bowled over by their acting style, finding them somewhat gimmicky. 

O Captain My Captain.

With John Terry stripped of the England captaincy today following allegations that he racially abused Anton Ferdinand (a decision that I support, despite my Chelsea allegiances), plenty of names have been put forward as his successor for holding the poisoned chalice of public relations pseudo-purity. 

Rio Ferdinand, Steven Gerrard and Wayne Rooney are the three most high profile names being put forward. Knowing Capello and his penchant for bowing to public clamour rather than what is best for the team, one of them will likely get the armband. 

Without a care in the world.

Would give anything to go back to these days, to be honest.

Album review: BORN TO DIE (Lana del Rey)

Celebrity. It’s a fickle business. When Lana del Rey’s Video Games first made its way onto the airwaves last year, people instantly fell in love with her. The song was beautiful, as was she. She was dubbed the “gangster Nancy Sinatra” and could do no wrong. 

An unsuccessful appearance on Saturday Night Live, which was promptly torn apart by the Twittersphere, combined with the revelation of her past as indie artist Lizzy Grant, triggered a wave of intense public backlash. Critics crawled out of the woodwork and slating her, insulting every aspect of her music as well as speculating over whether or not she had had plastic surgery. Going into the release of her album, Lana del Rey was shrouded in negative publicity.