The Chelsea Redemption.

On Saturday night, in Bavaria, Chelsea Football Club finally got their hands on the thing that has eluded them for so long: the Champions League trophy. Years of heartbreak, disappointment, last-minute goals and tears were purged with the most cathartic of penalty kicks from Didier Drogba. All those moments of hurt were forgotten as Chelsea players and fans celebrated this moment, this fantastic, unforgettable moment, as they were crowned European Champions of 2012.





Chelsea had very much been the underdogs going into this final, and after a few minutes played, it wasn’t hard to see why. The final this year was held in Munich and Bayern Munich looked very much like the home side, Chelsea, the anxious guests at a party they knew they felt they may not be welcome to. The two sides both lined up in what looked like 4-2-3-1 formations, but whereas Robben and Ribery created havoc for Chelsea all night down the wings, the West London club had the rather less glamorous pairing of Kalou down the right and Ryan Bertrand down the left. The 22-year-old youngster was a surprise name on the teamsheet on Saturday, having never even played in a CL game for Chelsea before. If stagefright got to the young lad, he certainly didn’t show it, and he and his mentor Cole did a commendable job of trying to stifle the siege of goal attempts that came their way.

Despite Bayern’s dominance throughout the game, Chelsea never lost their focus and Frank Lampard and John Obi Mikel were faultless in their holding midfield roles. The latter lost all confidence under Andre Villas-Boas, when, following an error from the Nigerian leading to Liverpool scoring a goal at Stamford Bridge in November, AVB then froze him out. Roberto di Matteo, however, does not operate in such a draconian way as the Portuguese did (which might explain why he’s a Champions League winner and AVB’s at home eating a Pot Noodle and counting his payoff, js), and he injected confidence and belief back into Mikel. As such, the midfielder paid back his trusting gaffer richly with a fabulously controlled and shrewd performance on Saturday. That our possession statistics finished 45% to us when it felt like it’d been a lot less owed a lot to Mikel’s possession.

Despite doing the best they could to neuter the influx of Bayern attack, however, we all felt a goal from the German side was inevitable. And that it was, on the 83rd minute Muller headed the ball into the night from a great cross from Kroos. It seemed like the end, and marred an otherwise faultless performance from Luiz (who was ball-watching at the time of the goal), Cole (who got drawn towards the ball), and Cech (who could possibly reacted better.) That was it then, it seemed. Had Bayern Munich seen through the 1-0 lead and lifted the Champions League trophy, who could really begrudge them it? They’d played the better football all night.

But Chelsea were not having any of it. Whilst fans across the world fought back tears as we were staring in the face of another grim Champions League disappointment, Roberto di Matteo took off Kalou for Torres. The Ivorian has seen a renaissance under RDM, being yet another one of the player who was unfairly frozen out during AVB’s reign of terror (Kalou conceded one late penalty against Valencia in the group stages and as punishment for his mistake didn’t see a start for weeks. This ~flawless tactic used by Andre Village-Idiot was shown up beautifully when di Matteo put trust in the young Ivorian to play against Benfica, and he scored the winner that night. Just noticin’), but the Champions League final wasn’t one of his better games, and he was rightfully subbed for Torres.

And it was Torres who made a nuisance of himself near the corner flag, forcing a challenge from Contento to win Chelsea a corner as the clock ticked down. His compatriot Juan Mata took the corner, who had up until then had a relatively quiet game; Mata excels in matches where Chelsea play football, but when we churn out our brand of catenaccio as we did on Saturday night and also in the two legs vs Barca, his talents are left wanting. Frank Lampard and Gary Cahill did a jolly job of running around in the Bayern penalty area to confuse their defenders as to who to mark, leaving Drogba to jump up and head the most important goal of his life into the back of the net. It was a thumping goal, as good a header as you’ll ever see and it meant that, three minutes from time, having been comfortably on the backfoot for the entirety of the game, somehow, Chelsea were going to drag this into extra time. We were still in it! In fact, on the 94th minute when Mata was fouled and Chelsea were awarded an inviting free kick, some wondered if Drogba would win it then. As such, he blazed his shot over.



But the drama was far from over. In the third minute of extra time, Ribery found himself shimming into the penalty area. Chelsea have always been weaker defending down the right, as exhibited by Boswinga making a few suicidal moves during the game that relied on the fingertips of Cech to rescue. This was exemplified again, when Drogba, attempting to make an ill-advised tackle on Ribery much like he had done against Fabregas at Camp Nou, found himself clipping the Frenchman’s heels and conceding a penalty.
Just like Drogba’s foul on Fabregas at Camp Nou, he got away with it. Former Chelseabung Arjen Robben stepped up to take the penalty. The Dutchman had once missed for Chelsea in a semi final second leg penalty shoot-out at Liverpool, which led to the London club from getting dumped out of the CL in 2007, but overall, he is a consistent penalty taker, having scored one against Real Madrid in the previous round for Bayern. But luck was on Chelsea’s side. Luck and – let’s face it – some cheeky gamesmanship from John Obi Mikel, who found himself sledging Robben in the most Joe Hartesque way, consistently telling the Dutchman Cech would save his shot. And that Cech did. Chelsea fans breathed a huge sigh of relief, thanking their luck stars whilst at the same time getting increasingly agitated. So far in this competition we’d shown that we’ve probably got more lives than Super Mario. But even Super Mario dies eventually.

So then it was time for penalty shoot-outs. David Luiz, who had been in pain since about the 20th minute, stayed on the pitch. Paulo Ferreira was supposed to come on for Mata but once the cold realisation of penalties occurred, RDM chose to keep the diminutive Spaniard on the pitch. Chelsea lost the coin toss which meant that, as if playing a German team on their home soil on penalties wasn’t daunting enough, we now had to contend with taking said penalties in front of their fans. Bayern Munich had never lost a penalty shoot-out in Europe, we were told, and Chelsea had never won one.

And so the shoot-out began. Philipp Lahm, who missed one against Real Madrid in the semi finals, exhibited guts to take the first one, and he scored, though Cech got very close to it. Mata went first for Chelsea. The fear was etched across the little guy’s face and when he missed, it didn’t come as a huge surprise. Chelsea fans accepted defeat. It was 1-0 on penalty shoot-outs against a German side. We’d ridden our luck a long way to get where we were. Time to call it a day.

But if that was the script, the Chelsea players sure as hell weren’t adhering to it, for, after Mario Gomez scored a solid penalty, David Luiz stepped up to take Chelsea’s second. Now, I don’t think I’m alone here when I say I physically grimaced when I saw the Brazillian do his insanely long run-up to the penalty. I won’t lie, I thought he was going to blast it over. But Luiz proved me and all his detractors wrong by slamming it emphatically into the net with such force that you half expected the goal frame to fall down.

Manuel Neuer, who had already gotten a confidence boost by keeping Mata’s out, then cemented his hero status for Bayern fans by taking a cool penalty which squirmed into the net under Cech’s body. Frank Lampard had initially been down to take Chelsea’s fifth penalty, but as we were trailing 3-1 at that point and another miss would have made the deficit insurmountable to come back from, chose to go third. Neuer’s decision to go to the right was a solid one as that is the majority of where Lampard hits his penalties. However, had he paid closer attention, he might have noticed that Chelsea’s hunchbacked hero also has another penalty-taking pattern; when the penalty is of high pressure, more often than not, Lamps will smash it down the middle. This is what he did against van der Saar last season and against Hart this season. And that was what he did on Saturday night to make it 3-2.

Then stepped up Ivica Olic. English football fans might still have nightmares of the Croatian, as he scored one of the three goals at Wembley the night that we failed to qualify for Euro 2008. But there was definitely a trace of fear on his face as he took his penalty, and Cech read both his expression and his body language perfectly, in doing so making a fantastic one-handed save to keep it out. Then it was Ashley Cole for Chelsea. The Englishman missed last season in a penalty shoot-out against Everton to allow the Merseyside team to advance at their expense, but aside from that, he scores great penalties. That people all over the world were hating on him and willing him on to miss was a huge factor in why he scored, in my opinion. 3-3.

And then Bastian Schweinsteiger, the bloke who scored the decisive penalty against Real Madrid in the semi-final, stepped up to take Bayern Munich’s last penalty. “Well he’s German, that’s a forgone conclusion,” I said to my brother. And, as with my various bouts of duff decision-making in life, with boys and predicting football scores in the past, Bungy was wrong again. :p Perhaps it was his slightly staggered run that cost him, but Schweinsteiger’s technique in taking his penalty wasn’t bad at all. Cech may have gotten a fingertip to it to tip it onto the post. But it meant that, incredibly, despite missing our first penalty, the score was tied at 3-3 and we still had a guy to take the penalty.



And it couldn’t be more apt that the man to take the decisive penalty for Chelsea should be Didier Drogba. Just before taking his penalty, he gave Neuer the eyes. The German went the wrong way, and, despite his penalty lacking the power of Luiz, Lampard and Cole’s, having sent Neuer the wrong way, the ball hit the net, meaning Chelsea won the penalty shoot-out and the Champions League final.

Years of hurt and heartbreak were instantly erased with that penalty kick, that beautiful, cathartic penalty kick. Players fell to the ground, redemptive tears streaming down their faces as the fantastic realisation that they’d done it, they’d really done it! All that money, all those big names, all those years of going tantalisingly close without reaching the final outcome… and now it had.

Glee, euphoria, delight, redemption, atonement… not enough words to describe how ecstatic I was then, how ecstatic I was four hours after, how ecstatic I was the next day, how ecstatic I am now and how ecstatic I will always be when I think about Saturday 19th May, at the Allianz Arena.

In a night that needed heroes, Chelsea had them all over the pitch. Cech, for his reaction saves throughout as a well as his penalty heroics, is the first that comes to mind. The big Czech Republic international had done his homework and then some; the goalkeeper went the right way for all six of the penalties he was faced with, keeping three of them out. Then there’s Drogba, who, in the aftermath, announced his retirement from Chelsea. The Ivorian has given the West London club eight years of his life, and the rollercoaster ride has had highs, lows, and never been anything less than exhilarating throughout. That it should be him to score the equaliser on Saturday as well as the winning penalty kick (whilst in between casually conceding a penalty purely so that the haters could have some false hope that Chelsea would lose) epitomizes everything good that he has done for this club, and for that, every Chelsea fan will forever be in his debt.

Then there was Ashley Cole, who once again cemented his position as the best left-back in the world. Facing a plethora of Bayern attacks, the defender wowed fans with a stream of blocks and goal line clearances. It is worth re-iterating that, at 3-1 down in Napoli when the tie was seemingly out of our hands, Cole made one of his quintessential goalliine clearances to prevent the score from being 4-1, a deficit that we surely would not have recovered from. The man is a hero. In the absence of John Terry, David Luiz and Gary Cahill were thrown into the deep end, a feat no less daunting when you consider that both of them had been out of a spell with injury. But both were terrific; Luiz has been criticized over the course of the season for lacking defensive discipline but he was nothing but totally focused on Saturday, and Gary Cahill, who must be pinching himself at his reversal of fortune from going battling relegation with Bolton to playing in a CL winning side, threw his body on the line in a fearless way that would make John Terry proud.

And of course plaudits have to go to Roberto di Matteo, who picked Chelsea up from pandamonium when AVB was initially sacked and instilled our team with confidence and belief. No one was ever saying that Lampard had to play every game, but to be sat ignored on every big game merits an explanation at the very least. When RDM didn't play the big names, he still managed to keep them sweet by explaining his reasoning to them, rather than acting like he was above it. The fact that he as status as a Chelsea legend as a player naturally boosts his cause, but this wasn't something RDM rode on; he has shone tactical shrewdness beyond his years (the double marking of Cole and Ramires on Alves in the first leg against Barcelona comes to mind, as well as the super-defensive 6-3-0 formation he employed in the second leg when Terry got sent off that saw us through to the final). Abramovich would be a fool not to reward the one man who has given him what he wants - the big eared trophy - a contract.

And lastly, but by no means least, there was the one, the only, Frank Lampard. Chelsea’s captain for the night played in a more conservative role of holding midfielder, which has been the norm under di Matteo. Such is the manager’s guile that he immediately recognised that whilst Lampard’s aging legs may no longer accommodate the surging box-to-box midfielder role the Englishman is so accustomed to, that by no means there is no place left for him at Chelsea. And so Lampard took on this role and understood it impeccably. On Saturday he gave a performance of huge footballing intelligence and also exhibited bravery to take the initiative to be the third penalty taker (rather than fifth) when Mata missed his. He is a footballer of tremendous fearlessness and pluck, and has devoted no little part of his life in pursuit of this, the Holy Grail of football.

And so it happened, that Chelsea Football Club, incepted in 1905, won the Champions League on the 19th of the 05th. It was a performance of guts, spirit and determination. Chelsea proved to be trolls of the Universe by capping off a season when they have frequently been underwhelming by winning the FA Cup and the one they really wanted, the Champions League. Chelsea found their Holy Grail, forever wrote themselves into European football folklore and saw their happy ending. Abramovich’s billions of Roubles went some considerable way to attaining this goal, but the joy, the sheer, unadulterated joy of getting our hands on the thing that we wanted more than anything else, well. The ensuing euphoria and memories that will forever live on in our hearts are something that even a Russian Oligarch can’t buy

We ain't got no his-to-ree.

Last night, against all the odds, Chelsea overcame their 3-1 first leg deficit against Napoli to win 4-1 at Stamford Bridge, 5-4 on aggregate, to go through to the quarter finals of the Champions League. They gave a tremendous performance, easily one of their finest of what has been an otherwise highly disappointing season. Roberto di Matteo, the interim manager, picked the side that many feel AVB, his hapless predecessor should have chosen (aside from John Terry, who was injured three weeks ago). He stuck with the old guard of Lampard, Terry, Drogba, Cole. These men, and all the other Chelsea players, repaid him in kind with a team effort that was nothing short of Olympian.

The game began cagily for Chelsea; Napoli’s attacks were plentiful and incisive. The Italian side, very much the flavour of the month due to their ultra-attacking 3-4-3 formation, looked to cause Chelsea problems from every angle and Cech made several good saves when the match was hanging at 0-0. Indeed, so against the run of the play was Drogba’s goal at 28th minute that it felt like a total surprise.

The goal, a bullet header from Drogba following a smart cross from Ramires, knocked the wind out of Napoli’s then full-power sails and Chelsea looked galvanized. Before half-time Sturridge could have made it 2-0 on the night if not for some errant finishing.

Napoli, for all their fluid play, had one notable Achilles heel, and that was that when the ball was crossed into their area. This was exemplified two minutes into the second half, when Frank Lampard’s – so notably absent from the starting XI that lost 3-1 in Naples – crossed and John Terry, back from injury, got his head on the end of it. Two headers for Chelsea, two goals on the night, the tie stood at 3-3, with the West Londoners going through on the away goals rule.

But such was Napoli’s potency that nobody doubted they would score at least one on the night. And indeed, eight minutes after Terry put Chelsea ahead in the tie for the first time since Juan Mata’s goal in Naples had given Chelsea some short-lived joy, it was the Englishman’s own haphazard clearance that found Inler. Inler let the ball bounce then positioned his foot perfectly to strike it accurately, and hard, to go through Lampard’s legs and into the back of the Chelsea net. 2-1 on the night, with Napoli 4-3 ahead on aggregate.

With legs getting tired and Chelsea running out of time – if they scored it would simply bring the game to extra time – Di Matteo took of Sturridge, who had ran his legs off in the game and bought on Chelsea’s £50million Fernando Torres. Torres’ pricetag will not be lost on anyone, least of all him, and the fact that he has gone 24 hours without scoring can not be good for his confidence either, but the Spaniard gave a terrific account of himself – complete with Nike headband – when he came on, chasing lost causes and displaying terrific ball retention.

Then on 75 minutes, when Branislav Ivanovic – playing so attacking that he had been perennially in the Napoli penalty area throughout – met a corner with his head, Napoli’s Dossena was judged to have handled it. Frank Lampard stood up to take the penalty, one of the most pressured ones of his life, and with the expressionless precision of a cinematic Clint Eastwood hitman smashed it down the middle. The Napoli goalkeeper got quite close to it, but such was the power of the drive that it hit the back of the net. 3-1 on the night to Chelsea, 4-4 on aggregate, with extra time in place.

With the painful memories of Moscow, penalties were the last thing Chelsea wanted. After all, Juan Mata had just recently had one saved in the FA Cup against Birmingham (he had also missed in the home game too, up against the same goalkeeper). The ITV commentators informed us that this season, Chelsea had been awarded 9 penalties, and only 4 of them had been scored. It didn’t look good. So Chelsea wanted to win the game in extra-time.

And on the stoke of half time in ET, they were blessed when Branislav Ivanovic was left unmarked in the Napoli penalty area. A cross from Drogba found his right foot and he struck it with a striker’s finish to find the back of the net. Chelsea and Stamford Bridge celebrated riotously and it was just reward for a team who had really given their all that evening.

But Chelsea knew that they could not rest on their laurels in the final 15 minutes, because should Napoli get just one goal, they would be through on the away goals rule. As such, it was all hands to the pump to run down the clock and prevent Napoli from obtaining possession. Didier Drogba revisited his younger, petulant self and gave some fabulous play-acting performances that both riled the opposition and entertained Chelsea fans. Crucially, his diving worked, as more times than not the referee fell for it and it helped use up precious seconds.

The Ivorian could have dusted the game off in the last minute of extra time, when Malouda gave him a peach of a cross, but the 34-year-old Ivorian, who had played all 120 minutes of this thriller, miscued his shot.

No matter. Chelsea saw the game through and when the referee blew his whistle for the end of the game, the celebrations at Stamford Bridge were a picture. Roberto di Matteo ran onto the pitch and embraced and each and everyone of his players, who had played like Spartans tonight. Chelsea knew that they would have to be nothing short of Herculean last night to overcome a two-goal deficit against a spirited Napoli side, and indeed, plaudits have to go to Napoli, who despite losing 4-1, still played marvellously.

Individually, I couldn’t be more proud of the Chelsea players. John Terry truly shone, he led from the back, scored a crucial goal and threw his body on the line to prevent every single Napoli attack. Frank Lampard, so criticised for his role in AVB’s departure from Chelsea, was deployed as a defensive midfielder in di Matteo’s 4-2-3-1 formation and even though it was a role he is not all that accustomed to, played wonderfully, making some tackles that Makelele, the quintessential Chelsea defensive midfielder, would have been proud of. Lampard also showed true grit to take the penalty; he has missed from the spot twice this season for Chelsea, but was unfazed by the past and merely looked to the future as he struck the ball. Didier Drogba, almost anonymous up until he scored, then became the powerhouse Drogba that opposition sides have grown to fear. David Luiz, who’s performance in the first leg was riddled with defensive errors, seemed to have settled in much better with John Terry alongside him, and he, too, made some fabulous interceptions. Even more impressive is that in the dying moments of the game, fatigue clearly got the better of him, but true to the Chelsea cause, he soldiered on. Ashley Cole, Ramires, Torres, Essien, too, were all immense. It truly was a team effort and the smile as wide as the sun on Roberto di Matteo’s face told as much.

Chelsea have had a very turbulent season. Whether or not they’ll even finish in the top four remains to be seen, but considering we have tricky fixtures against City, Spurs, Arsenal and Liverpool to come, I’m not holding my breath. Furthermore, should Chelsea draw Real Madrid, Munich, Barcelona or AC Milan in the CL, they are likely to exit the CL in the quarter finals. But they deserved their moment last night; the Chels showed everything that was good about the team, in a fantastic game that will surely go down in European history. Chelsea are now the only English team left in the Champions League, and after a performance as special as that, the squad can dare to dream.

Genie of the Lamp.

When Frank Lampard scored the penalty for Chelsea against Manchester City by smashing the ball down the middle, he made a statement for the title race; it was not going to be a Manchester duopoly if Chelsea had anything to do with it. It was also a statement of another kind: that despite what the Media said, despite even what his gaffer might do, Frank Lampard was far from over.

Benched for Chelsea’s vital Champions League match against Valencia and then benched for this game, it marked a murky period. The previous ten years, Frank Lampard had been invincible for Chelsea. Under Andre Villas-Boas’ vision for the team, though, Frank Lampard’s role within the club has been far more peripheral. Discontent with his performance against Newcastle, which included a penalty miss, the manager had subbed Lampard off at the hour, and the Englishman’s fury was so transparent it could be felt through the TV screen. Ignoring the manager as he skulked off, he sat in the dugout, glowering menacingly with arms crossed.

As the only member of the Chelsea squad to have attended a private school and with a handful of GCSEs, some at decent grades, Frank Lampard is a lot smarter than the majority of his teammates. He knows better than to shit stir or say anything overtly pejorative of the manager, because he knows his words will simply come back to bite him in the team selection. On Monday night though, Lampard could not resist a few incisive but very carefully selected words. “I want to play, simple as that,” he said. “I’m as fit as I’ve ever been. I’ve been in a good run of form and now I’ve not been playing. I haven’t spoken him so I don’t know why, simple as that.” With his goal celebration on Monday which was cathartic, bordering on deranged with a touch of Balotelli, his emotions threatened to bubble over.

Lampard is right to feel aggrieved. He has given Chelsea football club the best part of his life and his seven goals this season and several assists – a record that is even more impressive given that some of his appearances have been in the limited time as a substitute – is excellent for a midfielder, indeed, it eclipses that of Luis Suarez’s at Liverpool, say. He never shirks his duties, and when Chelsea are chasing a result, he is precisely the type of player you need. Raul Meireles, essentially the one that has displaced him in the Chelsea starting XI, is settling in well (indeed, he also scored on Monday night) and five years Lampard’s junior, it is not unfair to say he is more mobile and probably more dynamic. But Lampard has one of the best footballing minds in the premier league, and so for AVB to not even consider a trade-off between playing time for these two players and to essentially pick one over the other, little wonder that Lampard feels so aggrieved.

Obviously, it would be blind to say that he is identical, nay, better than the player he was three or four years ago. With each year that he ages, he slows a little, and in that sense he is the most unfortunate of Chelsea’s “old guard”; Terry and Drogba are also getting on now, but Terry, as a centreback, can usually rely on his fullbacks to cover for his lack of pace. And Drogba is rare type of player who genuinely seems to get better with age, not least because he knows he needs to keep Torres out of the starting XI, and that galvanizes him more than anything. And, as mentioned, Lampard does seem to have lost that infallible penalty-taking touch he once so possessed. So when we consider these points, AVB’s occasional decisions to bench him don’t seem totally radical. Chelsea fans can accept that their prodigal son and by far the fan’s favourite will not be starting every single game these days, especially as the manager has a vision for the future that rests on the youth of Oriol Romeu, Juan Mata and Daniel Sturridge. But at the same time, Lampard is far from being over and thus undeserving of the total freeze out he seems to have experienced of late.

Writing Frank Lampard off is a dodgy business. All the papers did it earlier this season when he didn’t start an England game. The result? Frank Lampard came back, not only as England captain for their friendly against Spain, but he just so happened to have scored the winner and only goal in that game. Similarly, “pundits” who were so gleefully relishing the end of his career for Chelsea were laughing on the other side of their faces when he returned with a Man of the Match performance against Bolton that just so happened to feature a hat-trick. He shines against all opposition, man or mouse, and his goals don’t just come when the game is sealed – Lampard has gotten four of Chelsea’s matchwinning goals this season – against Man City, Blackburn, Bolton, Norwich, so illustrating that this is a player who does not lose his head when the team’s backs are against the wall. There is nothing we enjoy more than proving our detractors wrong, and Lampard is no exception; football writers’ words of discouragement merely spur him on the train harder (not that he needs to train), to play better, and show the world and his son that they are wrong.

In order to take penalty on Monday Frank Lampard had wrestled the ball away from Juan Mata, whom AVB had assigned penalty taking duties to following Lampard’s previous two misses. It was a ferocious penalty, slammed right down the middle and reminiscent of the one he scored against Manchester United in the league last season – a game won in identical circumstances. Except this penalty had even more bite to it, and it is probably not inaccurate to suggest was a physical embodiment of some of the rage Frank has been internalizing of late. His penalty opponent and England teammate Joe Hart smiled a rueful smile as Lampard wheeled away to the fans in celebration; he knew there was no stopping that penalty. And there is no stopping Frank Lampard either, a man with plenty of life left in him and a lot more still to give.

Fernandon't Scorres.

Chelsea signed Fernando Torres for a club record of £50 million from Liverpool on 31st January with the weight of the world on his skinny shoulders. By the time Chelsea signed him, the title race was realistically only between Manchester United and Arsenal, but for the price that Abramovich shelled out for him as well as his preceding reputation, it was only natural that Chelsea fans – and all football fans, for that matter – expected at least some goals from him, if not immediately, then at least imminently. However, if (500) Days of Summer taught Miss Bung anything, then it’s that the expectation and the reality are very rarely the same. And what happened in that film -- Joseph G-L expecting to find a loving Zooey Deschanel in his arms when he really found her kissing another man, is not a bad analogy for Fernando Torres' failed love affair with Chelseabung. Carlo Ancelotti, for his part, tried everything he could to get Torres to score. He played Torres with Kalou. He played Torres with Drogba. He played Torres with Anelka. He played Torres with Drogba and Anelka. But, for all the want in the world, Fernando Torres still hasn't hit the net. Chelsea fans are impatient, Carlo Ancelotti is worried, Roman Abramovich just smiles that silent steely smile that is impossible to read but can so easy signal difficulty. And still, Fernando Torres has scored the same amount of goals for Chelsea as David Cameron, Olalla Torres (his wife), even the frogs in my garden. On the back of a soul-shattering defeat to Manchester United last night that knocks Chelsea out of the CL and effectively ends our awful season, I thought I’d take a look at Torres’ contributions in the games since he's joined Chelsea. After all, didn’t Miley Cyrus say, it’s all about the climb? Giggity.

Chelsea vs Liverpool, 6th February (Chelsea lose 1-0)
The football gods would just so have it that the first game Torres was available to play for Chelsea was that against his old club, of whom he’d gone from beloved son to reviled Judas. Football fans all over the world were rubbing their hands together at the anticipation of Torres scoring against the club that nurtured him into one of the world’s superstars, if only to see how he would celebrate after he scored. They needn’t have worried; Torres was off-form, as were most of the Chelsea team and a Liverpool side with a point to prove could easily have scored more than the one they did; a shot from Meireles. Following their spirited 4-2 win in the mid-week against Sunderland (which Torres was ineligible to play in) in which Nicolas Anelka had been deployed more as a midfielder than his natural forward role and absolutely thrived, giving one of his finest performances in a Chelsea shirt, Carlo Ancelotti attempted a three-man attack with Anelka, Torres and Didier Drogba upfront, but it was an experiment that failed miserably. The sad truth is that, had Ancelotti played just Anelka and Drogba in a straightforward 4-4-2, Chelsea had the quality to defeat Liverpool that day. But, with Roman Abramovich in the audience watching his new buy, that simply wasn’t an option for the Italian. Poor tactics, a miserable Chelsea performance and a good Liverpool team meant that Chelsea suffered their second home loss this season. Hardly the meeting against his old club that Torres would have dreamed of.

Fulham vs Chelsea, 14th February (scoreless draw)
There was little romance for Torres in this Valentine’s Day West London derby, in which a solid Fulham defence and some errant finishing from the Spaniard meant Torres was yet to be in a winning game for Chelsea. Ancelotti benched Drogba, so it was Torres and Anelka upfront for Chelsea, but the two exhibited little cohesion playing alongside each other, Anelka spending the majority of the game in his standard sulk-face. In fact, the player that truly shone for Chelsea in this game was the other expensive January acquisition, David Luiz, who, despite it being his debut premier league start, played like a veteran of the premier league. He was here, he was there, he was defending, attacking, creating chances; in other words, all the things Torres wasn’t do. Chelsea were unlucky, and should probably have had a penalty when Hangeland felled Malouda, but in the last minute, Man of the Match David Luiz’s lapse led to Chelsea conceding a penalty. The American Clint Dempsey’s penalty was poor and Petr Cech’s save was brilliant, meaning that whilst Chelsea should have won, they were lucky not to lose. "Are you Torres in disguise?" the Fulham fans jeered at Drogba in the second half when he misplaced a hit. Quite.

Copenhagen vs Chelsea, 22nd February (Chelsea win 2-0)

In between this Champions League knockout stages game, Chelsea’s luck went from bad to worse when they got knocked out of the FA Cup to Everton on penalties (a game Torres was ineligible to play in due to being Cup-tied) thanks to two very questionable penalties from Nicolas Anelka and Ashley Cole. The Frenchman, again employed alongside Torres upfront with Drogba yet again sat on the bench chewing bubble gum and looking glum, atoned himself somewhat in this game, in which two classy finishes from him secured two priceless away goals for Chelsea, temporarily easing the pressure on under-fire gaffer Ancelotti. Before the game, Chelsea captain John Terry issued a rallying cry to his team, urging them to “Man Up”, and his words seemed to have worked; Chelsea looked more assured and together, albeit playing against “lesser” opposition. Torres had the occasional moment of brilliance but was once again frustrated by the Copenhagen defence and his own inability to finish in a Chelsea shirt.

Chelsea vs Manchester United, 1st March (Chelsea win 2-1)

The team against my most despised oppositions in the whole wide world; needless to say, I was wasted. Yet again, it was Nicolas Anelka and Fernando Torres starting for Chelsea, but there were so many other back stories surrounding this fixture that the Spaniard’s goal drought actually took the sideshow for the first time in a month. For one, Ashley Cole had recently wounded a Chelsea work experience student with a rifle, whilst Manchester United’s Wayne Rooney should have suspended for the game following his elbow on Wigan’s James McCarthy. However, he was allowed to play, and it was he who opened the scoring (grr) in the first half, meaning that, at half-time, not only were Chelsea’s title ambitions out the window, but their chances of securing a CL slot for next season was looking precarious. But in the second half, they showed Manchester United what they were made of. Chelsea new boy David Luiz, who as in the game against Fulham, played a belter, equalised shortly after half-time with a finish that any striker would be proud of, before Smalling tripped up Zhirkov in the penalty area in the 78th minute to allow Frank Lampard to make like Jamie Redknapp tells his son to do in the latest Wii advert - and smash a penalty down the middle, leading to a precious, precious Chelsea win that had me so delirious that on just two pints, I was ALL OVER THE PLACE.

If truth be told, luck was on Chelsea’s side that Tuesday; David Luiz was lucky not to be sent off and Zhirkov’s fall, whilst a legitimate penalty, could just have easily been shrugged off (and in another game, possibly would have been.) However, Carlo Ancelotti, and Chelsea fans weren’t complaining. Torres played well and looked more comfortable with Anelka than he had done in previous games, and funnily enough, it was the fourth time that a game in which he’d played against Nemanja Vidic had resulted in a red card for the Serbian; Vidic being sent off for two bookable offences. Drogba came on for Anelka with half an hour left and the Ivorian saw out the rest of the game in majestic style; the way he took one for the team, when he himself is every bit the superstar that Torres is, was brilliant to see. Chelseabung got lucky in that game, but I wouldn't get too happy, the two upcoming fixtures against Man Utd meant that the luck debt was fully repaid.

Blackpool vs Chelsea, 7th March (Chelsea win 3-1)

Following that morale-boosting win over Utd, Ancelotti pushed the boat out and paired Torres with Drogba (there’s your FIFA dream team) against Blackpool, who, despite fighting the relegation battle, were far from pushovers at home, having scored in every home game this season. However, it was a defender who opened the scoring for Chelsea, John Terry heading powerfully from a Frank Lampard corner in the first half to separate the two sides. In the second half, Drogba picked up a minor knock, but Anelka, his planned replacement, didn’t look at all happy to be coming on, so Ancelotti bunged Kalou on instead, and serendipity would have it that that substitution really swung the game in Chelsea’s favour. Having spent a few minutes on the pitch, Torres sculpted a pass to Kalou to which the Ivorian was felled, giving Chelsea a penalty, to which Lampard dispatched with signature coolness. Kalou and Lampard then combined coolly to score Chelsea’s third, before Blackpool themselves collected a consolation goal. Salomon Kalou, the somewhat “forgotten” player of Chelsea’s four attackers in the wake of Torres’ arrival, gave an excellent account of himself in his performance, and Torres looked more content playing alongside him in a 4-4-1-1 formation that asked lots of questions of Blackpool’s defence.

Chelsea vs Copenhagen, 16th March (scoreless draw)

It was time for Torres to experience starting on the bench, though Ancelotti reasoned that he was resting him for game against Man City that weekend. This meant that the tried-and-tested strikeforce of Didier Drogba and Nicolas Anelka was employed, and although the game saw no goals, it did allow the former to show what a world class player he was. Some of his interplay was absolutely delicious, and had it not been for some lacklustre finishing from Yuri Zhirkov, this Drogba->Cole->Zhirkov could have resulted in one of the best team goals in recent history. Torres came on for a brief while in the second half and the two goal cushion from the first leg allowed for some indulgence on Chelsea’s part; Lampard could have scored towards the end but chose to tee it off to Torres in the hope that the Spaniard would get his first Chelsea goal. It didn’t work, but the thought was there; despite what naysayers may like to think, Torres’ teammates are just as eager/desperate for him to hit the net as he is.

Chelsea vs Manchester City, 20th March (Chelsea win 2-0)

Alas, the CL-slot six-pointer, as well as the clash of the nouvelle-riche vs the newer-nouvelle-riche. Manchester City came with one game plan: 0-0, and thanks to some staunch defending from Vincent Kompany (one of the underrated performers this season) and the City defence, that they almost got. However, the curly-haired, twinkle-toed, goal-scoring defender David Luiz had other ideas, and when he won a free-kick in the 78th minute which Drogba dispatched, he was there to pounce and bung it in the net. In stoppage time, his compatriot Ramires shimmied past two City defenders to slot in Chelsea’s second against Joe Hart, meaning the West London side gleefully leapfrogged City in the league table. Eyebrows were raised when it was noted that both Anelka and Drogba were benched and it was actually Kalou who started alongside Torres, but the Ivorian more than justified his start, and following the strength of their performances together against Blackpool, I’d say the move was bold, but, considering Chelsea won, it paid off. As usual, Torres' contribution to the match was limited, but he did at least wear a cute blue headband that was the exact same shade as his Chelsea strip. Blair Waldorf, eat your heart out!

Stoke vs Chelsea, 2nd April (1-1 draw)

Following an international break, in which Torres disappointed for Spain against the Czech Republic (but at least partook is a display of some sweet Chelsea fraternity at the end when he and Cech had a moment), Ancelotti started with Anelka and Drogba, perhaps with the view of resting Torres for the midweek showdown against Manchester United, and sat next to the perpetually-sweet face of Salomon Kalou on the Chelsea bench, Torres didn't look too chuffed about it. And Chelsea could only salvage a 1-all draw from what was actually a surprisingly even game, Drogba scoring the equaliser for the visiters; both sides had chances aplenty. Torres and Kalou came on for Drogba and Anelka in the second half, but, surprise surprise, the Spaniard didn't score. Again.

Chelsea vs Manchester United, 6th April (Chelsea lose 1-0)
In what was the most important game of Chelsea's season, luck was most certainly not on their side and they slumped to a morale-crushing 1-0 home loss thanks to Wayne Rooney's  goal in the first half. Carlo Ancelotti tried to play 4-4-2 with both the ~FIFA superstars~ Drogba and Torres upfront, but it failed as it did against Blackpool, and unlike against Blackpool, the rest of Chelsea were unable to pick up the slack. Much as it pained me to say it, Rio Ferdinand, coming back from huge spell of injury, had Torres' number, and Drogba, though his feet did all they could, his face told the story of a deeply discontent man. Ramires should have won a penalty and Evra should have been sent off, but this is Chelsea in the CL, when has "should" ever had a damn thing to do with anything?! To be fair, Torres did have one shot that did look to be going in if it weren't for Edwin van der Saar's brilliance, but, that he was booked for diving towards the end of the night summed up a deeply frustrating game for Chelsea on the platform of the CL, the thing they want more than anything else.

Chelsea vs Wigan, 9th April (Chelsea win 1-0)
A very unconvincing win for the home side, against a team who, in their previous two fixtures, they'd aggregated a mass scoreline of 14-0. In the end, Malouda scored the winner in a goalline kefuffle, in which Torres, ironically, did actually play a part - by impeding the Wigan goalkeeper. On the same day, Chelsea's loanee forwards Borini smacked one in for Swansea City, and Danny Sturridge scored two majestic goals for Bolton, bringing his tally since transfering to Bolton up to six. What Torres would give to just one of those six goals. Chelsea loan out one of their strikers who is scoring for fun and spend millions on a player who couldn't hit the proverbial cow's arse with the proverbial banjo? Now that, Alanis...

Manchester United vs Chelsea, 12th April (Chelsea lose 2-1)

But I speak on behalf of all Chelsea fans when I say that we would have gladly put our what-ifs on hold if Torres repaid the faith that Ancelotti showed in him, repaid the millions that Roman spent on him and repaid the hours of us fighting his corner when his former blatantly didn't deserve it, with a brace against Manchester United. But it wasn't to be. And to be honest, I  think that as soon as Chelsea fans knew that it wasn't to be, although that didn't stop us from hoping, praying, wanting. But what you can want something as much as you want, it doesn't actually get you it. Torres was so poor in the first half (The Guardian rated his performance a 4/10, only 2 points more than what they gave Crouchie for his performance against Real Madrid -- and he got sent off) that Ancelotti had no choice but to withdraw him for Drogba, who, in the second half, played his heart out. Even when Chelsea were down to 10 men, and chasing a 2-0 deficit, he ran and ran, sought loss causes, and neveve up. Drogba was aptly repaid by a brilliant goal, though in the end, it counted for nothing more than pride as Park Ji Sung scored another practically seconds later. It does raise a pertinent point, though. Carlo Ancelotti, last night, could have seeked to do one of two things, get to the final four of the CL, or appease Roman Abramovich by playing the footballer he spent so much on. In the end, Ancelotti got neither. The woe that befell Chelsea fans after this match is too great to even begin writing about, but I have to admit that this year, with the teams that we put out, we just didn't look good enough. I feel bad for players like Michael Essien, Frank Lampard and Petr Cech, who are amazing. But mostly, I feel for Didier Drogba. He, arguably, out of the entire Chelsea squad, has had his nose put out of joint most by Fernando Torres' arrival. Yet even on his form, which isn't the greatest, he is playing Torres off the pitch. Didier Drogba is a superstar, one of the best forwards in the world, but with 27-year-old Torres being paraded in front of his 33-year-old self, he can't help but wonder where he fits in at Chelsea. But I do so hope he stays, because he is an amazing footballer and an even more amazing man. We may have lost but I'm delighted Didi scored. He, more than anyone, deserved his moment last night.

So all this leaves Chelsea in somewhat of a quagmire (can you tell I've been on a Family Guy binge recently? Can ya?!). They have a £50million, perpetually injured striker who couldn't score in a brothel. They have zero chance of any silverwear this season, and the only thing left to fight for his for third and fourth slot, which is between them, Spurs and Manchester City. The malaise that I, and I imagine all Chelsea fans are currently in is immeasurable, and Carlo Ancelotti best sleep with one eye open if Roman's wrath is anything to be believed. It would be churlish -- and downright unfair -- to lay blame all of Chelsea's problems with Torres (we screwed up our title challenge long before he came along and he was ineligble to play in the FA Cup matches which we screwed up), but at the same time it would be blind to suggest he played no part in the massively dissappointing two games against Manchester United, which were, to be honest, the ones that mattered the most by far. Nicolas Anelka is a gem and has come out and said he "doesn't mind" not starting that much, knowing that as he's over 30 and at a club with four forwards, he needs to be realistic. However, Drogba and Salomon Kalou are clearly thinking over their options. Kalou is 25, an adorable sweetheart and a terrific little utility player for Chelsea, but when he was at Feyenoord with Dirk Kuyt, the two were tearing defences up, and Kalou must secretly pine for the days when he started almost every game, as opposed to for Chelsea, where if he's lucky, he'll get 10 minutes, and if he's very very lucky, he'll get a start, despite the fact that his goals-to-shots ratio has been far better than Torres'. The Fernando Torres jokes come in thick and fast ("Did you hear about my Torres night out?! I spent loads of money, had loads of shots but in the end didn't even score!" is a popular one, as is the website, http://hastorresscoredforchelsea.com/, which I don't believe will need updating until 2014) and I meet them sometimes with a bittersweet chuckle, sometimes with an ingrained need to defend by team -- and thus Torres. I know Roman Abramovich is a billionaire and can do whatever the hell he wants, but next time, I'd really appreciate it if he approached such a big-sum spending with a little more prudence. Torres and Drogba may score feckloads on FIFA, but, sry2say, Roman, life isn't a game of FIFA. Oh how I wish it was, but nah. At the end of the day, I'll support any player in a Chelsea shirt, even massive flops like Mateja Kezman, but this Torres escapade is all getting a little disappointing.  If I had to do the same again, well, er, I most certainly wouldn't do the same, my friend, Fernando.

Some football photos from September which I dig.

Wash your hands, Didier.

South Africa: a jungle where dreams are made of.

So, the World Cup arrives tomorrow, and I would be lying if I were to say the anticipation wasn't making me a little light-headed. For the past few weeks, since the premiership season ended, nay, before the premiership ended, I've been thinking about precious little else other than how the Drogbas of the world will fare, who will dazzle in South Africa and who will flop, and whether or not England will, once again, crash out on penalties. As a fan of football living in England, I'm lucky in that I can actually attend matches, not to mention watch them on Sky Sports, where the attention and time put on our country's biggest sport is nothing if not meticulous. But there is something even tastier about the World Cup. Partly due, perhaps, to the fact that it only comes once every four years, or maybe that the sweltering heat in the long hot Summer (for some, not Brits, lamentably) brings out a feistier side to us all. The High School Musical factor also plays a part, ie - we all feel "united" in the mutual supporting of our country, whether we're fans of Tottenham or Tranmere Rovers. It's a combination of all these things, and many more, that makes me feel very, very happy, that starting from tomorrow, I shall be treated to a month of non-stop football.

I was out shopping a couple of weeks ago, in New Look, when I spotted these bikinis with the England flag drapped across where the tit would be. The whole thing looked horribly cheap and tacky. Similarly, England flags have infiltrated our roads via car windows and windshields, our clothes via socks, pants and god knows what else, and just about anything you can name: it's been sold with an England flag draped across it. It's embarrassingly crass, but at the same time, I wouldn't have it any other way; the anticipation and influx of marketing is what makes the World Cup what is is. Whilst the hope us England fans have in our National Team can border on delusion, it's also a credit to our passion for the game that England fans love their NT so much despite coming face to face with disappointment so much in the past. This year, there's been a noticeably more subded edge to our predictions; the majority of England fans have ditched the crowing (our below par performances in the previous World Cup and not even being able to qualify for Euro 2008 has put us in our place at long last) and decided, instead, to hope, rather than expect.

The multi-national quality of the World Cup also means that, whether intentionally or inadvertantly, I always come out of it a little more educated about the World and current affairs. I've found out more about the state of the government in North Korea this week alone than I had previously in my sad 20 years of existence. It just completes the experience of the game, I feel, to learn a little more about the players' upbringings and backgrounds. In the same vein, I generally escape the World Cup with a whole new arsenal of foreign words. I did Spanish up to AS-level and got an A, and my decision to drop it for the more Sciencey subjects still jars, even three years on. Xavi, Iker Casillas and Cesc Fabregas will have to refresh my memory with their post-match interviews, which I'm sure will be fine (in more ways than one.)

If experience has taught Bung anything, it is that she is a shit football predictor. After all, my pessimism this season led me to thinking that my beloved Chelseabung would finish third (though I was never so happy to be proved wrong.) The only thing I've ever been remotely good at predicting were the Oscars, and that's because pre-cursors were there to guide me. Nonetheless, I shall try my hand at predicting how this year's tournament will go (of course, now that I've written it out, none of this will happen):

Golden Boot: David Villa

Best Player: Xavi

Most Bookings: Wayne Rooney or John Terry (heh)

From the musical montages set to Duran Duran songs that I know the BBC will put together, to the prospect of seeing players from the same teams come ~head to head~ when representing their countries, to the naff punditry (Gareth Southgate talks football as well as he takes penalties, yet I still find him so utterly hot and would be his Loleeeeeetah any day of the week) and puns galore (The Sun writers, now's your time)... I simply cannot wait for the World Cup.

10 Players I'm Really Looking Forward to Watching in the 2010 World Cup.

Under a week until the World Cup, and I can literally not take the excitement. In the pre-World Cup build-up we've already had heartbreak and disappointment, what with some key players getting injured in the friendlies and warm ups, whilst others have failed to been selected by their country's managers. Of the players that are going, here are the 10 that I'm most excited about seeing in action.

10. Salomon Kalou (Ivory Coast, Chelsea)

Now that Drogba's out of the World Cup (weep), Salomon Kalou could well find himself acting as the key striker for the Ivory Coast. This will be a slight change from his role at Chelsea, where, although he has been deployed as a forward, he has had more experience playing on the wing. Furthermore, whilst the Ivory Coast does still feature some premiership names (Arsenal's Eboue, and Man City's Kolo Toure, their captain in the abscence of Drogba), Kalou is one of the IC's more prominent players, unlike at Chelsea, and it will be interesting to see how he copes with this higher level of responsibility. Many Chelsea fans frequently find themselves banging their heads against the wall when watching Kalou; for all his pace and troubling defenders, some of his crosses leave a lot to be desired, and his finishing fluctuant. But I bloody love him. As you'll discover (to a point ad nauseum), I love footballers who try, and Kalou does just that. Plus I find it totally adorable and refreshing how in this day and age, when many players utter a couple of expletetives when they miss the goal, Kalou just grins sheepishly, and carrys on. It's that kind of cute, angel-faced school prefect behaviour that makes me just want to mother him.

09. Tim Cahill (Australia, Everton)

Arguably one of the best premier league players not playing for a top four side, Tim Cahill has been on the English football scene for 12 years now, six of those with Millwall and six with Everton. On more than one occasion he has been the saviour for Australia in internationals, as he has done with Everton - witness the way he skipped merrily around Man City's defenders in the match this season as if they simply weren't there.  The pacey, energetic way at which he bounds around the pitch is, in itself, not dissimilar to that of a kangaroos. It will be exciting to see how he runs circles around Germany, Ghana and Serbia in the so-called "group of death" (vol1). There's a vol 2 later. :p

08. Park Ji-Sung (South Korea, Manchester United)

I find Park Ji-Sung massively underrated. Whilst I know his erratic performances in front of goal have led to many Manchester United fans to want to punch him, I personally love him for his work ethic and energy. I'm a huge softie for football players who, although not the best, always give 110%, and nobody exemplifies that better than Park. As captain of South Korea, he is the one in the squad with the most experience of football at its highest level (the only other premiership player in the squad is Bolton's Lee Chung-Yong), and the big-game mentality that he has acquired from representing Manchester United in Europe shall surely come in handy when South Korea find themselves face to face with Argentina in the group stages. Also, he's Asian, as am I, so automatic brownie points for that.

07. Ashley Cole (England, Chelsea)

You've got to hand it to Ashley Cole. Quite possibly the most reviled man in England, every football ground he visits is met with animosity at his every touch of the ball, and banter in the form of his ex-wife's song lyrics (Stoke fans sang "We've got to file file file file file for divorce" to him as Chelsea rogered Stoke 7-0 at Stamford Bridge). But with his philandering and being detested, Ashley Cole has also acquired a mighty thick skin. In a season where he started so promisingly, Ashley Cole picked up an ankle injury at Everton in February, around the time when Chelsea needed him the most. He returned towards the end of the season and his four great performances in the remaining matches helped win the league and the FA Cup - but there was a faint trace of regret interwoven with my pride when Chelsea paraded those two trophies around West London. What if, I wondered, Ashley Cole had been fit for those two integral games against Inter in the CL? Could, perhaps, it have been the treble we'd been sporting - and finally have the CL trophy to Chelseabung's name. Anyway, thinking over scenarios that never happened is just a waste of time. Ashley Cole hadn't been fit, and we didn't beat Inter. But, for all his questionble morals "as a person", Ashley Cole is a dynamite of a left-back; both at attacking and defending. Whilst England's right-back, Glen Johnson, has a tendency to dose off - something Aaron Lennon must atone for in midfield if it happens, Ashley Cole barely has that problem. Alert, agile (even at 29) and consistently a threat, it will be terrific fun to see him dancing with the ball with Chelsea team-mate Joe Cole down the left. England don't need a parachute, if we've got him.

06. Wesley Sneijder (Netherlands, Inter Milan)

Sold to Inter from Real for around 15million euros with the money Inter got for their "Ibrahimovic sale", Sneijder made a splash straight away, adapting to Italian football brilliantly and greatly enjoying the role Jose Mourinho gave him as a trequartista behind Eto'o and Milito. It is this attacking trio, along with goals from all over the pitch and Jose Mourinho's machiavellian know-how that guided Inter Milan to the treble, and after all that, one could hardly blame Sneijder for feeling a little... fatigued. But no, the 25-year-old, balding, thrice-divorced Dutchie is having none of that. Having gotten his hands on three major trophies already, he's got his eye on a fourth.

05. Kaká (Brazil, Real Madrid)

It would not be unfair to say that on the whole, Ricky Kaká has had a bit of an underwhelming season for Real Madrid. A lot of this is not the poor boy's fault; unlike at Brazil and AC Milan, where the team was built around him, Kaká found himself having to adapt to a different style of play in Spain, and he has struggled with form-dipping injury throughout the season. Plus, with the hefty price tag burdered on him, anyone would feel a bit nervous. Nonetheless, he will not feel content with how the past season has gone - especially when compared to Cristiano Ronaldo, Real Madrid's other multi-million Euro signing - and will take it upon himself to find redemption in South Africa. Interestingly enough, Kaká and Ronaldo will find themselves face to face in the Group Stages, as Portugal, Brazil, Ivory Coast and North Korea form Group G, the "Group of Death" (vol2). If things don't go as planned, Kaká may find himself talking to god on more than one occasion...

04. Philipp Lahm (Germany, Bayern München)

When Chelsea's Michael Ballack was ruled out of the World Cup with an ankle injury, it added to Germany's already growing injury list of first-team players, what with their first choice goalie Rene Adler nursing a rib injury. Speculation also arose as to who would wear the captain's armband. The smart money was on Stuttgart's Sami Khedira, though Klose, Bastian Schweinsteiger and Lukas Podolski also in for a shout. But in the end, Germany manager Joachim Löw gave the position to pint-sized Philipp Lahm, one of the most baby faced players in the World Cup. A right-footed left-back, he was doing the "playing inside out" thing long before Ashley Young, Craig Bellamy and Damien Duff cottoned onto it, and whilst his minute height occasionally leads to gaps in his defensive game, he usually takes it upon himself to compensate - it was Lahm who scored the equaliser for Germany in their 3-1 friendly victory over Bosnia when he was at fault for the one goal Bosnia conceded. A key stalwart for Germany in their past few tournaments, it will be interesting to see how he fares in South Africa, carrying the weight of representing his country, defending and now captaining on his 5'7" shoulders.

03. Xavi (Spain, Barcelona)

In May, reports broke out that Cesc Fàbregas, the 23-year-old captain of Arsenal, wanted to re-join Barcelona, the club he started at. Whilst his desire to do so is partially justified; as a Spaniard, who can fault him for wanting to go back to his homeland, and season upon season of disappointment with Arsenal can only push him so far, the best argument for Cesc not going to Barca and staying exactly where he is is in the form of Xavi Hernandez, Spain team-mate. They play in similar roles for their teams and with Xavi still at the peak of his powers, I feel that were Fàbregas to be Cataluña-bound, he would be forever playing second fiddle to the man seven years his senior. At 30, Xavi is at the age when footballers are supposed to be declining in physical fitness, but the past season he has had with Barcelona completely counters that. Arguably the best playmaker in the world, his passing is second to none, his link-up play with Barca and Spain team-mate Andrés Iniesta is borderline telepathic, and, for all the plaudits Lionel Messi has won for his many match-winning goals, there is a monster in midfield behind him, quietly doing the integral cogwork.

02. Frank Lampard (England, Chelsea)

Lampard has just had a sensational season with Chelseabung, wherein he has topped his own scoring record with 21 league goals and more assists than any other player. That his reputation as a World class footballer is in refute is just a joke. But anyway. For those of us with eyes and can see how immense Mr. Lampard is, the desire to see him play for England is also intermingled with trepidation for how Capello will handle the Lampard/Gerrard conundrum, something he still hasn't sorted. I have my own ideas but I'm no football manager, so I shall hold my own counsel over the matter (for once). But I do hope Lampard isn't the casualty, because he is an absolute diamond of a footballer. Two years ago, his mother passed away, and six days on from the tragedy he chose to go back to his job as a 'player and play in the crucial CL tie between Chelsea and Liverpool at Stamford Bridge. With the game tied at 1-1, 2-2 on aggregate, a penalty was awarded to Chelsea. Many people could barely watch as Lampard prised the ball away from team-mate Ballack to take the spot-kick. His heart and head must have been all over the place and had he missed, it would have hurt a lot more than any other penalty. But the way he scored the penalty - essentially securing a victory for Chelsea, was transcendent in that, in its own way, also represented a victory for life over death. Tears streaming down his face as he looked upwards to the sky, Lampard won, the haters lost and for me, he is King.

01. Peter Crouch (England, Tottenham Hotspur)

No surprise, really. Peter Crouch turned my head in the 2006 World Cup and worringly, 4 years on, the obsession still hasn't desisted. Between those four years, he has played for three different teams, had good spells and bad but never failed to entertain me. Whilst not the most fashionable of footballers, Crouchie nonetheless epitomizes everything I love about the beautiful game: determination, team spirit and a simple thirst to play football. Some may argue that he's a flat-track bully at international level, but this argument is circular; Crouchie is hardly ever selected to play against the more "difficult" nations and when he does, it is for 4 minutes as a substitute- hardly a reasonable length of time to score in. When given the chance to shine, oh, how he soars; back in 2007 he scored a hattrick against Arsenal (the only other player to achieve such a feat in recent years is Leo Messi), and what a hattrick it was, scored with his left foot, right foot and head. Capello would do well to start Crouch alongside Rooney; Crouchie has a knack of getting himself in the right place at exactly the right time (Manchester City conceding the goal from him that put Spurs in the CL at their expense will attest to that) and his international goal-scoring rate (21 in 38 games) speaks for itself. As an England fan, I'm always wary of over-optimism, but I can't help thinking that with Crouchie as our #9, there could just be a few treats in store for England this Summer.

And players who will be sorely missed...

From top left then clockwise: Didier Drogba, Ivory Coast and Petr Cech, Czech Republic (both Chelsea, Drogba due to injury and Cech due to failing to qualify), Michael Ballack, Germany and Michael Essien, Ghana (both Chelsea, both got injured), Adam Johnson, England (Man City, was selected for the privisional 30-man squad but failed to make it into the 23), Luka Modric and Niko Kranjcar, both Croatia (Tottenham, Croatia failed to qualify) and Shay Given and Richard Dunne, both R.O.I (Man City, Aston Villa, Ireland missed quliaification by an arm)

Some Will win, Some will Lose, Some were Born to Sing the Blues.

I wasn’t sure about Ancelotti when he was appointed, but that was largely because I was still high from Hiddink. But I think Carlo’s done good. Obviously I’m massively disappointed about going out – and so early – in the CL, but actually, going out early was a blessing in disguise for Chelsea’s league form. He managed to find a brilliant way for Chels to play without Drogba when he was at the ACON, and he’s just such an adorable and huggable old man. I don’t think he got his tactics right for Hull, Everton and Blackburn away, and if it weren’t for those matches Chelsea could have had the title wrapped up long ago, but that wouldn’t have been half as exciting ;) But what I love most about Ancelotti is that – whilst Mourinho was such a character and could play the media like a fiddle – Ancelotti chose to let the football do the talking.
Drogba’s 29 goals – many of them pivotal ones – earnt him the rightful accolade of Golden Boot, but his all round play, in linking up, cutting back and creating assists have all been completely stellar. The sheer multitude of goals he’s scored is even more impressive if you consider that he was at the African Cup of Nations for much of January and he’s scored against all manner of teams – man or mouse. A close second, however, has got to be Frankie Lamps, who has bettered his (already excellent) goal talies for the season and gone about his business with a quiet professionalism that is second to none – he’s not been booked once this season. Ledge. (I really did rather enjoy Lampard putting Drogba in his place over who got to take the first penalty today. Or, I would have, if I wasn’t so fecking nervous).

A honourary mention to Florent Malouda, who after quite a while, got his swagback, and when he found his mojo, all of Chelsea did too. Is nice. Branislav Ivanovic, too, has shined, he’s been an absolute rock in defence, and Ashley Cole has been sizzling at left-back, both defensively and in going forward. His left foot, my god. It’s a mighty shame he got injured, but his performance today (and last weekend against Liverpool) showed Chelsea exactly what we’re missing. Best left back in the world.

On the whole, the Chelsea performances that have led me to call her a slut/whore/hoodrat – City at home and away, Everton at home and away, Spurs away etc have been down to goals due to errors from one man: JT. I may be laying on the hyperbole somewhat here, but if I knew that Terry was going to play in the donkey that he did this season and if I had 50million pounds, I would have happily paid Man City that just to bung him away from Chels. I couldn't care less who’s exes he’s knobbing (my best friend Terrys other people’s exes and I don’t judge her so I shan’t judge him), but the whole Bridgegate scenario definitely affected his game, which is bloody annoying.

Sunday’s rampant 8-0 rout over Wigan was bloody beautiful, and the goals – and the gorgeous, gorgeous ways they were scored pretty much summarized Chelsea’s attacking season. Hitting 7 past Stoke, Sunderland and Aston Villa was also lovely - I remember Lampard's donlike performance against Villa, and Sala's hat-trick against Stoke, all nice memories :) 3-0 against Spurs was fun, mainly because I got so drunk that I started cheering when Crouchie came on, FAIL. Owning Arsenal at the Emirates was LOVELY. But beating Manchester United on their own turf was the day I got the most drunk in the 2009-2010 season, and it felt so bloody good to beat them on their home turf and watch Chels play so well, (not to mention that it was the result that led Chelsea to leapfrog United) so that will probably be my high point.

There are two matches that still make me gnash my teeth, despite the fact that Chelsea have lifted the title on Sunday. Losing to Manchester City at home 4-2 was a crock of shitty shitty shit, because our players (save Lampard) were loltacularly awful, accentuated in the fact that we had two players sent off. I hated losing our proud home record, especially to ~~ Beleaguered Saint Wayne Bridge~~ and his ~~Loyal Mate~~ Carlos Tevez. Disgusting. And the other match that I still get bitter over was the loss away to Spurs. Quite possibly the worst performance from Chels this season, that match made me really angry, partly because it was the day before my birthday and I was really wanting Chelsea to give me something to smile about, partly because Paul Scholes’ last-second winner earlier that day for United had given me thirst for derby victory of our own, but mainly just because I bloody hate losing to Tottenham, and everyone on our team (save Lampard and Cech) played like complete donkeys, especially Drogba – who was at his petulant, tarty worst - and Terry – who’s horror tackle could have broken Bale’s leg. Ugh.

I think Ashley Cole scoring the eighth today summed up our season: technique, mastery, and goals from all over the pitch. Drogba, Lampard, Malouda and Anelka have all been in double figures with goals. We’ve done the double over all three of the other teams in the – now disbanded – Big Four, and we certainly didn’t get that through a fluke. It’s quite disconcerting to read the Sports section in papers and read them actually sying nice things about Chelsea and the football we’ve played, because I’m so used to seeing hate upon hate piled upon my team. But the fact that writers are swallowing their words and loving rather than hating shows just how attractive and entertaining my girlfriend’s been this season. Some days she’s sweet and some days she’s sour, but I can’t help but drink her up cos she’s my happy hour. ♥

... In which I chat shit about football.

I thought the PFA Team of the Year  was nowt but a joke, so, here's mine: -