Slipperduke
The Camden Cad
In scorching heat against brutal opposition, Chelsea were comfortably
keeping their side of the bargain and beating Bolton Wanderers, but
with ten minutes remaining, the Stamford Bridge faithful suddenly fell
silent and for a moment the only sound was the pinging of thousands of
SMS messages bearing bad tidings from The JJBStadium. Simply winning
the game just wasn't enough anymore. Chelsea, for all of their efforts
and all of their consistency, fell short on a resource that Manchester
United have rarely found hard to come by. Goals. Heads dropped, morale
plummeted and it was almost inevitable that Bolton should poke home a
late and somewhat undeserved equaliser.
Sir Alex Ferguson had voiced fears before the game that Bolton
Wanderers wouldn't be trying particularly hard, having practically
secured their Premier League status the weekend before, but that
certainly wasn't the case. Gary Megson's players defended as if they
were still very much in the drop-zone, keeping Chelsea at bay with
lines of white shirts so compact that they were essentially playing
with nine at the back. They flew into tackles, snapping at the Chelsea
players' ankles and provoking a furious response from an increasingly
nervous crowd.
Those nerves weren't helped by a stream of misinformation from other
grounds, notably in the 20th minute when a huge roar began to roll
around the ground, gathering in volume as it went. Supporters danced
in the stands, jubilantly embracing, but it was all for nothing. Wigan
hadn't scored. Had Sir Alex Ferguson deployed his agents into the
crowd on a mission to shatter morale? The Bolton fans, in contrast to
their hosts, were having the time of their lives, bouncing beach-balls
around the stands, until the dastardly home stewards got hold of them
and let the air out. They sang in the sun, knowing that only a
ludicrous turn of events could relegate them.
Chelsea were stronger in the second half with two strikers, but still
struggled to pass their way throuh their stubborn opponents. When
Shevchenko messily bundled home the leftovers of a Frank Lampard shot,
there was hope, but the next bulletin from Wigan crushed it in an
instant. The players appeared for a lap of honour after the full-time
whistle, with the PA announcer desperately trying to lift spirits for
Moscow and that's where their thoughts must lie now.
Their fans will await news of the injury to John Terry with bated
breath. The Chelsea captain was pole-axed in a collision with Kevin
Davies and Petr Cech and was rushed to hospital with a dislocated
elbow before half-time. He took his place on the pitch afterwards with
his arm in a sling, but his agent moved quickly to dispell any notion
that he will miss the European Cup Final. It would be prudent to
remember that we all thought Terry was dead when Abou Diaby kicked him
in the face in last year's Carling Cup Final, but he still rose off
the slab to join his team-mates for a beer on the same night. The man
is invincible.
Avram Grant walked behind his players afterwards, shaking hands with
supporters and listening to their songs. Just for once, they weren't
telling him that he didn't know what he was doing. Just for once they
weren't cheering for a certain Portuguese manager. They were singing
his name. On a day when Chelsea lost their chance to regain the title,
Grant could at least console himself with the knowledge that he had
finally won the respect of the fans.
keeping their side of the bargain and beating Bolton Wanderers, but
with ten minutes remaining, the Stamford Bridge faithful suddenly fell
silent and for a moment the only sound was the pinging of thousands of
SMS messages bearing bad tidings from The JJBStadium. Simply winning
the game just wasn't enough anymore. Chelsea, for all of their efforts
and all of their consistency, fell short on a resource that Manchester
United have rarely found hard to come by. Goals. Heads dropped, morale
plummeted and it was almost inevitable that Bolton should poke home a
late and somewhat undeserved equaliser.
Sir Alex Ferguson had voiced fears before the game that Bolton
Wanderers wouldn't be trying particularly hard, having practically
secured their Premier League status the weekend before, but that
certainly wasn't the case. Gary Megson's players defended as if they
were still very much in the drop-zone, keeping Chelsea at bay with
lines of white shirts so compact that they were essentially playing
with nine at the back. They flew into tackles, snapping at the Chelsea
players' ankles and provoking a furious response from an increasingly
nervous crowd.
Those nerves weren't helped by a stream of misinformation from other
grounds, notably in the 20th minute when a huge roar began to roll
around the ground, gathering in volume as it went. Supporters danced
in the stands, jubilantly embracing, but it was all for nothing. Wigan
hadn't scored. Had Sir Alex Ferguson deployed his agents into the
crowd on a mission to shatter morale? The Bolton fans, in contrast to
their hosts, were having the time of their lives, bouncing beach-balls
around the stands, until the dastardly home stewards got hold of them
and let the air out. They sang in the sun, knowing that only a
ludicrous turn of events could relegate them.
Chelsea were stronger in the second half with two strikers, but still
struggled to pass their way throuh their stubborn opponents. When
Shevchenko messily bundled home the leftovers of a Frank Lampard shot,
there was hope, but the next bulletin from Wigan crushed it in an
instant. The players appeared for a lap of honour after the full-time
whistle, with the PA announcer desperately trying to lift spirits for
Moscow and that's where their thoughts must lie now.
Their fans will await news of the injury to John Terry with bated
breath. The Chelsea captain was pole-axed in a collision with Kevin
Davies and Petr Cech and was rushed to hospital with a dislocated
elbow before half-time. He took his place on the pitch afterwards with
his arm in a sling, but his agent moved quickly to dispell any notion
that he will miss the European Cup Final. It would be prudent to
remember that we all thought Terry was dead when Abou Diaby kicked him
in the face in last year's Carling Cup Final, but he still rose off
the slab to join his team-mates for a beer on the same night. The man
is invincible.
Avram Grant walked behind his players afterwards, shaking hands with
supporters and listening to their songs. Just for once, they weren't
telling him that he didn't know what he was doing. Just for once they
weren't cheering for a certain Portuguese manager. They were singing
his name. On a day when Chelsea lost their chance to regain the title,
Grant could at least console himself with the knowledge that he had
finally won the respect of the fans.
