The Man in The Shed
So the third leg of our cup triple-header is upon us. This
time we’re playing at Tottenham’s home ground – I mean Wembley – and it feels
more like May than February; bringing back memories of the last FA Cup final –
and of course we won that day ! I have to say that my (and I’m sure many
others) expectations are quite low after that serious drubbing at the hands of
today’s opponents. I always accepted that my beloved Chelsea would lose games
here and there – even to opponents in Premier league sections 2 and 3 – but
over the years we never seemed to lose by more than the odd goal or two.
Seeking solace in the fact that even Man United were thumped five nil by us
after winning the treble I wondered whether perhaps this was a price worth
paying if we were to implement real “Sarri-ball” – whatever that means.
The team sheet (do they still actually write / print these
things off ?) appears on my phone and the first sign of a Sarri-compromise has
appeared – Hazard is the false nine. I bet the manager had little trouble
selling this plan – OK lads, I was going for the standard 11 players I always
pick but we lost six nil last time so
I’m going for the three wingers on the counter option. Any problem with that – no
? Great. Even I can see the sense in this. Keep the goals against as low as
possible until half time and then see where we go from there.
Forty five minutes later and the only real surprise is that
Man City haven’t really created much. We’ve had the ball for about 45 seconds
in total but at least Emerson looks secure as a defensive full back (I assume
Alonso threw a strop upon finding out he was dropped which is why he hasn’t
even made the bench). Our crowd, even in the vast expanse of the National stadium,
has made plenty of noise, much to my delight – I even joined in.
The second half starts the way of the first but gradually we
start to get the ball for longer. We’re not creating much to trouble their
keeper but we are starting to impose ourselves. Even more surprising is that
our substitutions aren’t expected – on come Hudson-Odoi and Loftus-Cheek with
no sign of Kovacic ! By the time we get to extra time I am starting to believe
that we might actually nick this game.
The momentum remains with us throughout extra time. We still
couldn’t manage a single shot on target in two hours of football but at least
we hadn’t been spanked six nil again. And the fitness of the outfield players
was much to be admired – not a single man dropping to the turf all cramped up.
Our goalkeeper let the side down of course. Not once but three times he dropped
to the floor. So embarrassed was he by this that it affected both his sight and
his hearing. Frantically waving at a swarm of imaginary bees whilst Chelsea
players and management invited him to leave the pitch so we could bring on our
penalty-saving expert. Some in the media have suggested mutiny and lack of
respect – I just think the poor lad was out on his feet.
So penalties then. Our first chance to hit a shot on target
and fans-favourite Jorginho gets to go first. He successfully hits the target
but fails to realise that City keeper Ederson is still alert after doing
f***-all for two hours and saves the kick (I use the word kick loosely as it
sent a telegraph before striking the keepers’ glove.
That’s that then. Kepa managed to dive over one even I could
have stopped and then saved another from Sane but the dye was cast and we lose
another final in a penalty shootout.
Still the queues for the tube we manageable and it’s Spurs
on Wednesday so not too long to suffer.
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