Make My Chelsea Great Again…
Posted by Featured Articles | Published on April 16, 2016
I guess these kind of things need to be written from the heart- well in my case a very broken one. So I’ll give it a go.
As the dust of more rubble caving in from the rickety rooftops of Stamford Bridge settles a rather mild Saturday evening after yet another abysmal performance with an emphatic defeat to boot- an uninspiring 0-3 home loss to Manchester City- I guess it’s time to face the fourth and fifth stages of grief: bargaining and acceptance. In this case, I reverse them.
I accept that Chelsea Football Club are not the team they used to be, or the team of last season whom had sauntered stealthily to the Premier League title 274 days uninterrupted. I accept that the players’ attitudes aren’t the same as previous sides that had graced the shirt of Chelsea. I accept that the manager isn’t good enough and the future managers may not enjoy the successes of seasons gone by.
At the same time, I bargain, to everyone around this beautiful football club that once were at the pinnacles and lofty heights of both English and European football to make Chelsea great again. Not in a couple of years time, now. Do it now. Make my Chelsea great again.
Chelsea: Crestfallen Champions
A season of disastrous, dire and dreadful proportions has posed many questions over the sustainability and future of Roman Abramovich’s fleeting empire at Chelsea Football Club.
Why is that? Well, with a huge stadium expansion (costing approximately half a billion pounds, a mere droplet in Abramovich’s near bottomless lot of gold) on the horizon, the next few years were once thought to be very bright and anticipating for all around the club. Not forgetting the plans were announced on the back of the Blues dealing the Premier League title. So in the breezy near summer haze of May- we have Mourinho in charge, the players performing at high intensive levels, the fans’ happiness at all time highs as well as the trophies beginning to come back to the King’s Road- things were looking bright…
…but flash forward to a rather chilly, murky aired April. We have no Mourinho (betrayed by the players and our own board), no high intensive players- who quite frankly regard the Chelsea shirt as clothing, not their guts and glory-, fans miserable and the trophies being hundreds of miles away all culminate in a very large, blackening cloud sitting firmly on top of the football club. Alongside this one great cloud lies a bunch of cumulus clouds of discontinuity regarding the stadium move and Abramovich’s trigger happy nature. Can we create a home atmosphere somewhere that isn’t our home? Can we have a manager for more than two seasons? The storm clouds gather. And it’s just started pouring down.
The worst champions in living memory coupled with a no hoping future, it’s like the last days of Rome, only with less of a fight- more like lambs wilfully caving in and leading each other hand in hand to the grinning slaughter. The rain is unrelenting from the clouds above still, we are the crestfallen champions. So once again, I plead to Roman Abramovich: make my Chelsea great again.
Set Fire to the Rain
In the storm of Stamford Bridge, an incoming Italian man named Antonio Conte has been given the rather mountainous task of shielding Chelsea from this horror storm. Conte’s task couldn’t be bigger for a club if Chelsea’s ‘stature’; he’s the man that needs to somehow create light and fire to a darkened, destroyed football club.
Right now, it’s simply not good enough. We are tenth in the Premier League. Tonight we succumb to our eleventh defeat of the 2015-16 league ‘campaign’ (I prefer surrender to campaign) and succumbed to our seventeenth defeat overall this season. We shouldn’t be experiencing something like this- ever. Rather arrogant yet this is a football club that only experienced defeat thrice the season before. A swing of negative fourteen. And who’s to say the defeats won’t increase? We have a title challenging duo of Leicester and Tottenham still to visit as well as daunting trips to scraping Sunderland and Lazarus-esque Liverpool.
What Antonio must do isn’t simple yet easy to interpret; rather easier said than done. He had to breathe a new gas in Chelsea, a gas that will get them cooking again, a gas that will revitalise the 42,000 fans currently slouched in despair in their seats at Stamford Bridge and a gas that can banish the rain of uncertainty and discontinuity but instead fire to it. So, I plead into you, Antonio Conte: make my Chelsea great again.
Of Mice, Not Men
On the pitch of PR, contract negotiations and backroom transfer deals- we’re a shambles. Equally, on the pitch where ‘football’ is played, we are also a shambles. The buck arguably stops with the ‘men’ that play on it every weekend: the Chelsea lot.
Call yourselves champions? Call yoursleves Chelsea? No. No more. Nothing, not even that double against the Arsenal, can connote from this season that you are the aforementioned traits. Nothing.
Look at the league table and find Chelsea. Does that scream champions to you? No. It’s an abhorrence. They arrested those men from the Hatton Garden robberies recently and quite frankly, you’re doing the same; millions each week of that large wage bill being wasted on you lot not feeling up to it therefore no 100% commitment, dedication, blood, sweat and tears being out in game in, game out.
Where’s the passion? I’m not talking about fervently beating the team badge before you start mocking me but the passion and drive to succeed on the pitch, run that extra length of the pitch, run at the defenders and stare at the jaws of victory and defeat head in and show no fear. Where is it? You’ve shown fear and our opponents have smelt it from miles away. We’ve stood still and, as a palpable consequence, been decimated and demoralised.
Now, the incoming manager will not accept this. Nor will, and hopefully anyway, the fans. It’s going to be a long summer and it will be the simple case of either shaping up or shipping out. Next season will be different, a hopeful change in animal- from this season’s mice to next season’s men. You’re not men now, you’re little mice running scared of the damning reality swallowing Chelsea whole. So grow pairs and stand up. I beg of the players, it’s what you’re paid several millions per annum to do, to do one thing: make my Chelsea great again.
The Time is Now
The storm isn’t stopping. The flood levels are growing. More hearts are breaking. Rumours of depeartures and arrivals are rife. Quite frankly, the Stamford Bridge fortress that once ruled majestically over land and sea is ruined. But it can change. It must change.
This summer is huge. New manager, hopefully new players and with any luck, a new hope. This Chelsea is a divided mess but together, we can only rise again. Become that cliché Pheonix that rose from its bleak, grey ashes.
I finish with what I started: acceptance and bargaining. I accept that right now, it very bleak. However, I bargain (quite voiceferously and passionately) with everyone around Chelsea Football Club as the time is now: make my Chelsea great again.