Shhh! This is the Premier League. Why Stamford Bridge is too quiet

On Saturday, Jose Mourinho took issue with the home support as Chelsea took on QPR in a West London derby. I was at the game with my wife (irony to follow) and can confirm the atmosphere was fairly low key. Nothing unusual there. For the past 10 years or so, the atmosphere at Stamford Bridge has been gradually eroded. The particular problem on this occasion was that the team could not spark the crowd into life, as so often is the case. The players’ performance reflected the mood of the fans – looking at the form guide, this should have been a rollover.

I take great interest in the fans at matches because, since my first Chelsea match in 1994, aged just 11, I was hooked on the passion they brought to the occasion. For me, a vocal crowd is just as important as a great team, or a great stadium. It makes the match so much more participative. Which means that for the last 10 years or so, I’ve become more and more frustrated with the shape of Chelsea’s support, and more widely, support across all Premier League matches. So much so, that I have resigned myself to becoming another inactive supporter, so tiring is the battle to spark a song or get everyone to their feet. Here are the main reasons, as I see them, in order of relative importance:

1. Higher ticket pricing (my QPR ticket was graded AA and cost £56)

2. Family-friendly grounds (plastic flags, Xboxes IN THE STANDS for children)

3. All-seater stadiums (or ‘no standing’ policies – seriously?!)

4. Saturated coverage on television

5. Fans spoilt with success.

Without going into these in detail, it’s safe to say that the combined effect is a massively reduced noise level at Premier League matches, and in my experience, particularly at Chelsea. And I’m not the only one who’s grown weary of trying – ‘East Stand, give us a song’ used to be a popular chant used to gee-up the other fans around the stadium, but now even that has died out. The Matthew Harding stand is the exception, and I guess most grounds have always had this hardcore to fall back on.

So I’m grateful to Mourinho for having a go at the fans. I used to return from matches years ago, not celebrating victory but bemoaning the atmosphere. Anything we can do to improve it – either through (it’s come to this:) manufactured ‘singing sections’, or bringing back standing sections – is desperately needed.

I’ve reached that age and point in my life where the testosterone is, I think, more controllable than when I was at my most vociferous – through my teens and early twenties. I’m a father and on Saturday I took my wife to see the match. But where are all the youngsters who used to be inspired by the passion of the older vocal fans? They’re at home, by choice, already recreating the match on FIFA or watching it on Sky or via a pirate stream online. Instead, I was surrounded by Scandinavians and Eastern Europeans – all of which would be fine by the way, if they were singing and shouting. But they were quiet tourists, paying top dollar for a day at the home of the league leaders. And at the end of the day, it’s the dollar that The Man really cares about, not the noise.

Transfer deadline day: What Salah and Zouma can learn from Mata and Essien

It’s been a window of mixed emotions for Chelsea fans. Overall, the picture is positive – we’ve signed four of the most promising, up-and-coming players in the world: French centre back Kurt Zouma, Egyptian winger Mohamed Salah, Serbian midfielder Nemanja Matic and Berkina Faso’s Bertrand Traore. These are all young and gifted players, offering hope of future success.

The downside of the January transfer window is that we’ve said goodbye to two of our most outstanding ambassadors – Michael Essien and Juan Mata. Chelsea is home to some of the best people in football but it’s something it rarely receives credit for. By its very nature, the press focuses on the ‘bad boys’ at the club in order to fit an image of the unlikeable, oil-rich, overpaid prima donnas. To achieve this they stoke the flames around the celebrity lifestyles of John Terry and Ashley Cole. It’s understandable. But as a result the understated, humble, players fail to receive the credit they deserve. Mata is the consummate professional – a gentleman who lets his feet do the talking on the pitch, and speaks eloquently off it. Much like Gianfranco Zola. Mata’s farewell letter to the fans is testament to his class.

Essien also shares a trait with the legendary Zola. He never stops smiling. Hacked to the floor, still smiling. Substituted, still smiling. Every day in training, smiling. His insistence on seeing the bright side of life is truly admirable. He is also a great countryman, representing Ghana with integrity and pride. In this respect he is similar to another great personality in the club’s recent history: Didier Drogba.

These are the players that should define Chelsea’s identity. Wonderful ambassadors who love the blue shirt, play for the fans, play the game with enjoyment and humility, and do it all with a smile.

It’s not entirely the media’s actions that have failed to bring the respect and recognition these players deserve – it’s neither the purpose nor the interest of the press to improve Chelsea’s image. It’s the club that must do more to celebrate these figureheads and ensure their ethos is used as the cornerstone of its identity. Chelsea invests in these players, plays a huge part in their education, but rarely puts them forward for interview.

There is something special about Chelsea, its fans, its history. Great names like Mata, Essien, Zola, Vialli, Lampard, Osgood, Drogba and Cech will always hold a special place in their hearts for Chelsea. In kind, they are the heart of Chelsea.

If Zouma, Matic, Traore, or any new young player signing signing for Chelsea, wants to know what the club is really about, they should look up to these examples. Ignore the trappings of celebrity and glamour. Look at Essien and Mata – that is how you make your mark at Chelsea.

Why we love to hate Alex Ferguson

It was one of those “where were you” moments. The death of Princess Diana, the Twin Towers, Alex Ferguson retires. While that may sound ridiculous, for those who love football Ferguson’s retirement (of course infinitely less tragic and important than the former historic events) had become almost as unimaginable. As grotesque as it seems, in today’s 24/7 media pop culture many people measure reality within the parameters of politics, celebrity and, yes, football. Ferguson’s retirement was a moment of public outpouring, as the endless column inches and radio chatter testify.

I’m not going to pretend I’ve read every 12-page special edition newspaper pull-out since I heard the surprise announcement of Sir Alex’s retirement on Wednesday morning. I could speak objectively about the respect I have for Ferguson’s unrivalled achievements and ability. Instead, these are the honest, undiluted thoughts of a regular football fan (I’ll try to keep it clean). A lot of fans despise Ferguson and I’m one of them. There is not a character in the game who I dislike more.

As I became more engaged with football (aged 11) following Chelsea’s 1994 FA Cup Final defeat at the hand’s of Ferguson, his words and behaviour began to wind me up without fail. Part of it is undeniably down to Manchester United’s success of course. Football fans have a duty to hate any team that is not there own which dominates competitions in the way United have. Success breeds contempt (and jealousy and envy). I understand that others feel the same way about my heroes – Mourinho, for example. My generation has grown up in an era almost saturated by the glory of United – and one man epitomises the club more than any other: Ferguson. He is Mr Man Utd.

Please bear in mind this began in the years of teenage angst. Picture a Chelsea fan who is yet to taste victory and desires it deeply – a typical young football fan filled with a generous dollop of resentment and hatred for any team which thrashes his own. Today, with age and experience, thankfully I’ve matured, mellowed and gained some perspective. Today, the ‘old’ anxiety only rears its head during major crunch matches and cup finals.

Since the mid-90s, Ferguson has built team after team filled with characters blessed with the inherent ability to wind me up (and I know I’m not alone). Keane, Neville, Beckham, Cole, Van Nistelrooy, Ronaldo. They all pushed my buttons. It’s no mystery – these players got my goat because of their arrogance. Even aged 14, I respected players worthy of arrogance but who instead chose relative humility – players like Alan Shearer. It was particularly difficult to watch a young David Beckham jump onto the shoulders of Andy Cole in celebration and (inches from the front-row seat I occupied for years) hold their hands to their ears, mocking the silence of the seething Chelsea fans around me.

Aside from the vile personalities that Ferguson nurtured on the pitch, his own behaviour became the pinnacle of everything I disliked about the game. He was hypocrisy personified. If another manager missed a bad tackle, Ferguson would vilify him as a liar; the very next week Ferguson would turn a blind eye to his own players’ misdemeanours. He bullied the opposition managers, the players, the referees, the media, the BBC (how did he get away with his boycott of Match of the Day for so long?). I understand now why this siege mentality can be an effective leadership strategy, but it was excruciating to listen to week in, week out. Relief came when one his rivals would get the better over him (Wenger and Mourinho in particular) – on those occasions my hatred would turn to unashamed delight as thousands like me watched with glee as the Scot’s purple nose and wrinkled face grew redder and redder.

In this context, I’ve been looking forward to the day that Ferguson retires and the downfall that could follow at United. But how did I really feel when the long-awaited news suddenly broke? After the initial amazement, the overwhelming feeling was sadness. Because as anyone knows, every good story needs a villain.

Meet The Misfits: Benitez, Benayoun and Torres

At the start of the season I made the obvious statement that last year’s heroics would be hard to beat. Even the most optimistic Chelsea fan (myself included), knew in their heart-of-hearts that things would inevitably only get worse after winning club football’s top prize. The departure of Didier Drogba was reason alone. Plenty of other things have gone wrong since August 2012 though (too many to list here) – so what has driven me to write my first blog entry in eight months?

The story was carried by Sky Sports News this morning, headline: “Torres keen to stay put”. Five words to strike terror into the heart of any Chelsea fan. (However, of the three men who I’m about to criticise, Torres is the only one I genuinely respect).

Firstly, some context. It has long been cited that football clubs have lost touch with their fans. This season, Chelsea has become the best example of that. I find myself particularly impassioned on the subject of ticket prices, ie real fans being priced-out of the game (probably the only common ground I share with hard-hit Arsenal supporters). But while the monetary complaints have been growing for years, this year I’ve witnessed another cruel theft from true fans: identity.

It still baffles me how many of the leading sports reporters fail to grasp the animosity towards our interim manager, Rafa Benitez. Chelsea has a long list of managers since Abramovich took over, but the only one who is a complete misfit is Benitez. Partly for his links to Liverpool (it doesn’t take a genius to work out he still loves the Reds, not the Blues). But there’s more to it. Nothing about him says Chelsea. Continental, yes, but in all the wrong ways. His rotational policy is terrible, his tactics defensive, his substitutions and first-eleven selections baffling.

There is no denying his previous success, but I hold his skills on a par with Claudio Ranieri – a man who was infinitely more likeable for Chelsea fans. Chelsea managers must have style, personality, flair, and must endorse some level of attractive play. Hoddle, Gullit, Vialli, Ranieri, Mourinho, Scolari, Hiddink, Ancellotti, Villas Boas, Di Matteo. They all had it to some degree. Benitez is a drip.

So is another former Liverpudlian – Yossi Benayoun. The only difference is that fans can ignore a fringe player. It is impossible to ignore the beaming face of Benitez at every press conference. Why is he smiling, having already lost three of the four trophies he was contending for in just a few months? His audacity beggars belief. His attack on the fans was ill-advised and smacked of naivety. Benayoun also rounded on fans recently for booing him during Chelsea’s tie at Anfield. If those boos were anti-sematic they must be stamped out, but I don’t believe they were. Benitez and Benayoun are booed because: 1. they are both ‘very Liverpool’. 2. they are both terrible at their existing jobs. The fans have a right to boo them and they can expect nothing less.

Torres has tried. He undoubtedly has more potential and talent than both his former Liverpool colleagues. For this, the fans have demonstrated (unusal) patience. However, this summer he must admit defeat and move on – for his sake and ours.

The funny thing is, I don’t blame any of these men for the problems they’ve caused. The responsibility lies with “the untouchables” – Gourlay, Buck, Emenalo and, yes, Abramovich. If Chelsea are to be saved, they must return the club to its former identity as soon as possible. Appointing a former player as manager is just one way. Bringing back Mourinho is another. Appointing one of the many talented managers available abroad is another.

Some Chelsea fans do not object to the appointment of Benitez, the use of Benayoun and the endless persistence with Torres, but I would describe those fans as ‘passive’ (at best). Yes, these men are professionals who have reached the top level at some point. But do they enhance the club’s identity – the identity which Abramovich was said to desire so strongly once the Champions League was in the bag? The simple answer is no. And they should go.

When you’ve won everything, what next?

I’ve got a lot to say this season; from the Americanisation of the Premier League, to the Brazilianisation of Chelsea FC, as well as my Lionel Messi ‘encounter’. But I have to start by putting my spin on last season’s achievements on the record (look away now: this post is unashamedly self-indulgent). Again, my parental responsibilities and profession have got in the way of my blog. My last post, in April, seems a lifetime ago. Then, Chelsea were looking ahead to an FA Cup semi final against Spurs at Wembley, a Champions League semi final against Barcelona, and Arsenal in the league. I wrote about the dream draw in Europe – the potential of a final against Bayern Munich or Real Madrid. I haven’t got the time to go into the intricacies of those matches but needless to say, victory was so sweet in the FA Cup and, of course, the Champions League, that it took me the entire summer to come back down to earth.

Champions League Sofa Celebrations at Casa Gibson

From the ecstasy at Casa Gibson on 19 May, to the carnival at Eel Brook Common when we finally saw the Trophy With the Big Ears, it was the experience of a lifetime for a Chelsea fan. But what comes next? Before turning 30, I’ve been fortunate enough to see my club lift every major trophy available. Back in 1994, as an 11-year-old watching Glenn Hoddle’s team battle to a dreary 0-0 draw against Everton, I would never have dreamed of my team reaching such heights. I know I’m very lucky to witness such glorious years. My father still proclaims that he misses the good old days when we were a team of mid-table battlers. I just want to enjoy every moment of glory while it lasts, and let me assure fans of other London clubs that if you win the biggest prize in Europe, it’s immensely satisfying knowing that no one can ever take it away from you.

Perhaps in search of some novel excitement, and to quench my football thirst during the long summer, I even took my dear mother to watch Mexico smash Senegal in the Olympics (silly sombreros compulsory). But now the new season is underway, what do I want my club to do next? The press believe that Abramovich now wants Chelsea to win everything again, just using a more attractive style. That sounds good. 

In March, I said Di Matteo wasn’t the man for the job. But if we won the double, I’d reconsider. Well he did win the double and he deserves at least a season to prove himself capable in the long run. It was an easy choice in the end. A win-win for Roman. A popular choice with the fans after leading the club to the highest heights, and if he fails this season, well, Pep Guardiola’s sabbatical will be about to come to a timely end. In the meantime, let’s get in amongst those Mancunians and make it a three-horse race for the Prem please.

How Chelsea can beat Barcelona in the dream cup run

So Chelsea are in the semi-finals of the biggest and best competition on the planet. Again. Everyone will have us down as underdogs this year, which is a welcome change. For a Chelsea fan it’s the dream match-ups. We get to take on the best club team in the world, Barcelona, and the best player to ever live, Lionel Messi. And the prize is a cup final against one of the powerhouses of Europe – Real Madrid or Bayern Munich (that is going to be an incredible battle itself). But how has this Chelsea team made it to the semis again and can they overthrow the ultimate footballing machine?


Jose Mourinho has already laid his cards on the table – he believes that Uefa, using the referees, will not allow the two richest teams to meet in the final. Now, I like a conspiracy theory as much as the next journalist, but in football they are two-a-penny. However, Jose has good reason to feel this. When Norwegian ref Tom Henning Ovrebo denied Chelsea two clear penalties against Barcelona in the 2009 semi final, he robbed us of a deserved place in the final.


So how fares the team of 2012? Most would argue this is a weaker unit, drifting precariously at 5th in the league and scraping through the cups. Despite Di Matteo’s improvements, critics still point to defensive fragility that could again prove inferior to the challenge from Messi, Xavi and Iniesta. But in 2009, the defensive display was fantastic and today’s defence is, in truth, just as strong. Then it was Bosingwa, Alex, Terry and Cole. Today it is Ivanovic, Luiz, Terry and Cole. Ivanovic and Luiz are better than Alex and Bosingwa and the team has abandoned the high line that was hopelessly flawed under AVB.


Milan came closer to beating Barca in the quarters than many would have you believe. At the San Siro they packed the midfield, threw bodies into the spaces, nullifying the trendy triangles that the little maestros love to play. Instead, they were let down by their finishing and that is where the semi final will be won or lost for Chelsea. Terry will throw himself in front of the shots, Mikel and Lampard will block the through-balls and Cole and Ivanovic will work tirelessly on the flanks and covering inside. If we finish our chances (and there will be chances against this Barca defence), then victory is ours. It depends on the ability of Mata and  Torres to convert their chances. The Spaniards are beginning to click. In one week, Chelsea face Spurs at Wembley in the FA Cup semi final, then Barcelona, then Arsenal in the league. Whatever the outcome, this is what it’s all about.

Worst seats ever? My view at Chelsea-Liverpool

If you buy half price seats at Chelsea (restricted view), you get half a pitch! This was the view that greeted us when we took our seats for Chelsea-Liverpool yesterday. I was expecting a bit of an obstructed view, maybe a floodlight or a pillar in the way of the corner flag, sure. But not this. If I stood up I couldn’t see the goal at the other end because it’s obstructed by the overhang from the upper tier. If I squatted and dodged about a bit I could just about see the whole pitch. 


Who said it’s a game of two halves? Being able to see both penalty areas is just plain greedy anyway. Now seriously, whoever built Stamford Bridge, didn’t stand at the back of the Matthew Harding stand and take in the view. If that happened they’d have said: “Oh they can’t see the goal at the other end, silly us.” There are hundreds of seats like this. There was a family with children in the row behind me who literally missed half the match. So do Chelsea need a new ground? Yes please Abramovich. ASAP.