The alarm clock on my mobile rang. I was surprised. Why was I using my mobile as an alarm? I reached out and looked at the time. It said 06.00.

Why was I in an unfamiliar room? Suddenly I realised I was in Stuttgart and in less than two hours I was going to be on a train to Munich to watch my beloved Chelsea play in the Champions League Final.

The previous day’s beer-garden tour had tired me out. We should have been taking it easy instead of walking several miles. I hauled myself out of the little bed and headed for the bathroom for the first major hurdle of the day-washing and drying my hair ahead of getting it into it’s lucky bun. The small hairdryer in the bathroom proved unexpectedly efficient, and the bun went up first time; a lucky omen, I thought.

By the time I had dressed (black vest, Chelsea shirt, pink hoodie, jeans) and hurled my belongings into my holdall, it was 06.40. The party had agreed to meet in the breakfast room at 06.45. I was down at 06.42. Somewhat to my surprise, I was the first one down. I decided not to hang around and helped myself to coffee and cereals. A couple of minutes later Matt appeared, looking a little fragile, followed by Pick Six, on whom the previous day’s drinking had taken its toll. Matt said that Steve was doing his hair too.

By 7am the whole squad, including Steve, were making inroads to the buffet. I decided that after the cereals and coffee, I really couldn’t face anything else but a yogurt. About to pull the lid off, I noticed something. The brand name was “FRANKENLAND” – Frank? As in Lampard? My mind went back seven years to Chelsea winning the league at Bolton, when hoardings behind the goal advertised “Franking Sense”. Could this possibly be a similar omen?

Breakfast finished, we handed over our keys and departed the hotel for the short walk over to the Hauptbahnhof. The station was pretty deserted and the train wasn’t due for 25 minutes. Dazza and Mrs A. wandered off to fetch coffee and snacks for the journey. A combination of yesterday’s alcohol and cuisine was leading Pick Six to create what can best be described as “gas incidents”. The rest of us mooched about.

Finally, some ten minutes before the scheduled departure, and with more people now on the platform, including a number of Bayern fans, the train arrived. We located our seats and settled down for the journey. As the train made its way smoothly out of Stuttgart, the landscape changed from modern cityscape into woods and countryside, and as we sped through Bavaria, we passed towns with the typical red roofs and cream walls which probably originated prior to late 19th century German federation. The sun shone, and I got the ipod out for some house and disco before listening to what @mowingmeadows describes as the winning playlist – Three Little Birds and The Liquidator.

The train made three stops en route, each time picking up more and more Bayern fans, before arriving in Munich just after 10.00 as advertised. The noise at the railway station was colossal. Air horns were being blown, and groups of Bayern fans were singing “WHO THE FUCK ARE CHELSEA LONDON!!” (a refrain we were to hear a lot of throughout the day). We gathered ourselves together on the concourse.

Our plan was to locate the hire lockers in the station and leave our luggage there. It had also been thought a good idea to purchase some refreshments and nourishing snacks for the return train journey that five of us would be making to Stuttgart at the unearthly hour of 03.25. We found the lockers and stashed the bags. Pick Six decided to absent himself at that point to use the facilities. We hung around by the escalators waiting for him to return.

Quite a long wait actually, until he returned with the look of a man at peace with the world, and providing too much information about his time on the lav. We then visited Munich’s answer to Whistle Stop and returned to the lockers to discover, to our collective anguish, that we’d have to pay another 3 Euros to re-open and re-close them. However, that done, Munich was our oyster, and, leaving Dazza and Mrs A to check-in at the hotel they had booked for the night, the remaining six of us headed for the famous Augustiner Keller which wasn’t too far from the station.

Notwithstanding the fact that it wasn’t 11.00 yet, the beer garden was open, and we negotiated with a traditionally dressed, albeit slightly surly, waitress to let us have a large table until 5pm. Originally I had tried to book a table indoors, in case there was a problem with the weather, but their 1000 seater capacity had already been filled when I had emailed them at the start of the week. We sat down, and the boys ordered a steiner each.

I had Orangina. Half a litre of it. Decided I’d probably eke it out for a couple of hours. So we sat there under the chestnut trees in the warm Munich sun. Just after 12, we decided it was time to think about lunch. I chose red snapper, Mr E. had the nine sausage platter, and the rest of the boys ordered half a chicken, or hendl as it’s called, which caused us some merriment, especially as I started chanting

“Who put the ball in the Tottenham net?
Arfur, Arfur
Who put the ball in the Tottenham net?
Arfur ***ing hendl!”

The food arrived and was perfectly edible, and just after another party of my friends arrived for a drink, followed shortly after by Dazza and Mrs A. The beer garden was filling up fast, although Chelsea were heavily outnumbered by Bayern fans. However, everyone was in a marvellously happy, friendly mood and if I’m being honest there was something refreshing about sitting there in a civilised fashion, with the home fans everyone having a drink and a laugh.

Speaking of which, I decided it was now time to have an alcoholic drink. “Wodka Lemon?” I asked our surly waitress hopefully. “Nein”, she replied. I settled for 20cl of pinot grigot, which meant I’d have to be careful. And it was served in a mug. Not even a glass. About 14.30, the oompah band arrived and, after playing a local song which all the Bayern fans sang, they turned to our table and struck up “God Save The Queen”. We got to our feet and sang with all our hearts. The noise volume around the garden was increasing and the Munichers massively outnumbered Chelsea fans.

Although we’d told the garden we’d stay till five, Steve had had word from a friend in town that he was in the Marienplatz, and we decided that we would head off about 16.00. We called for der rechnung and the usual lively discussion took place as to who had consumed what.

Just as we were leaving, we met our mate Seb going in, who took little persuasion to accompany us to the Marienplatz, and further down the road we met Darren Mantle of The ChelseaFanCast fame, who was heading to the Augustiner to meet his twin Steve and Ross Mooring from the fancast, who had arrived shortly before we left. We decided to get on a tram back to the Hauptbahnhof to take advantage of the free travel for matchgoers. However, we got into a tangle around the station’s complicated underground/S-bahn complex, and after milling around for a while, we eventually found our tube train thanks to a German Chelsea fan.

The Marienplatz was absolutely heaving, and we headed over towards Bohne and Malz, the bar where Steve’s friend had said he’d be. Everyone else dived into the express bar, where pints were on tap, but that wasn’t much good to me, so I wandered off down to the arcade in the hope of finding something more to my liking. And I found a divine little bar where they were selling vodka and sprite to take away, which made me very happy. When I got back, the rest of the class were still hanging around the front of Bohne and Malz, but we could see a little courtyard which appeared to lead into a residential block, which had tables and benches.

After the short but very hot journey from Augustiner Keller, we were happy to have a drink and sat down. I’d suggested moving off at 18.00 to give us plenty of time to get to the ground, as there was the possibility of not getting on the first U-bahn, but eventually we all compromised on 18.45. The Marienplatz was still heaving, and the U-bahn was crowded.

When we got down to the platform, it was to a heaving mass of humanity. We lost Mr. E. and Steve, although the rest of us managed to stick together. In fact we were quite lucky to be at the back of the crush. One train came on and we couldn’t get on it. There was a 10 minute wait. Another (empty) train came in and didn’t stop. After another 10 minutes, a train which would get us part of the way to the ground arrived but it would mean a change five stops on.

People heaved themselves bodily on to the train. It was incredibly hot. The train kept stopping. It took about 20 minutes to travel five stops and we were relieved to get off at (Municher Freiheit). I had a pleasant surprise as I found myself standing next to two friends from the CIU where I drink on matchdays. My only fear was that when the next train came in, it would be even fuller, and we’d have another wait. It was about 19.30 by this time and although the game wasn’t starting till 20.45, I was starting to fret about the possibility of missing the kick-off. However, much to our surprise, the next train that came in was an empty, air conditioned heaven, and the remainder of the journey was comfortable.

We got off the train in high good humour. As we came out of the station, the vastness of the stadium became apparent and I realised, this is it. We are here. And we are playing in the final. Mrs A. had managed to get separated from Dazza on the way out of the stadium, so she accompanied me and my CIU friends on what was a fairly long walk to the ground. We arrived at a little merchandising area where I stopped to get a programme and, after fairly light security checks, Mrs A. and I made our way around the stadium to the entrance for our adjoining blocks in the middle tier. Just as we were nearly there, I heard a booming Irish voice calling “Blue Baby” (see, it does help to have your name on your shirt) and my joy for the day was complete or so I thought, as my favourite Bruvvas from Dublin hoved into view. They’d been drinking at the Shakespeare in town, and filled me in on what they’d been up to, and vice versa, as they knew all of my travelling companions.

Once inside the ground, it was time to visit the facilities as kick off was now only some 20 minutes away. I found my seat towards the back of the middle tier. The stadium was a breathtaking sight. Bayern had a huge advantage in numbers, and as the opera singer Jonas Kaufmann bellowed his way through a new version of the champions league anthem (although it later turned out he’d been miming due to a respiratory infection which has caused him to pull out of his engagement at Covent Garden this week), the Bayern fans lifted cards which spelt out the slogan “our team, our stadium, our trophy”. We defiantly waved our flags in return.

Just before 20.45, the teams emerged from the dressing room into a frenzied stadium. Tens of thousands of words have been written about what happened next and I can’t imagine I’ll improve upon any that have been penned before. From my own point of view, the first 45 minutes seemed to last about 10. The team were holding their nerve on the pitch, even if it was already squeaky bum time in the stands, with Mikel putting in a superb performance. I was slightly miffed by the fact that having paid a hundred and thirty odd pounds for a seat in an attempt to save my wonky knees, I was still having to stand, and a plan was starting to formulate in my mind.

As soon as the half time whistle blew, I headed for downstairs to the Ladies and then to the bar for much-needed water. Coming away after making my purchase, I met Dazza and Mrs A., who’d managed to locate each other. “Dazz”, I asked. “Are they checking people’s tickets going into the lower tier?” No, he replied. “Right”, I said. “I’m relocating”. Because I’d decided that if I was going to have to stand for the second half, I might as well sneak into the lower tier and be with my mates. And as I reached the ninth row of the lower tier, not only did I find Mr E., Matt, Steve, H. and Pick Six, but yards away in the next block were the Bruvvas, Mrs A. who’d obviously made the same decision as me, and a host of other friends, including The Former Mr Baby.

The second half kicked off and sped by in similar fashion to the first. Then, on 83 minutes, disaster as Muller headed down, and the ball looped over Petr Cech. The Bayern end roared in delight. The Chelsea end were stunned into silence. With just seven minutes left, was it going to be yet more heartbreak in a European final? Optimist as I am, I couldn’t see how this was going to end well. I was resigning myself to defeat. Then, on 88 minutes, a miracle. Juan Mata’s corner was met by Didier Drogba, who powerfully headed the ball past Neuer, the Bayern keeper. The Chels support behind the goal erupted in ecstasy. I stood there whilst the rest of the crew jumped on top of me. When I emerged I subsequently found H. jumping on top of the seat back of the row in front and, fearful for his safety, I clung on to the waistband of his jeans until he jumped back down.

Five minutes later, we were going into extra time. Just three minutes later, we were staring disaster firmly in the face again. Drogba’s silly trip on Ribery resulted in a pen to Bayern. I said to the gang “Face it boys, we are not going to be allowed to win this”. Ribery had gone down as if presented with a teenage girl and required several minutes of treatment before the penalty could be taken. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and I resorted to prayer. Three Hail Marys, a Hail Holy Queen and a Memorarie, just finishing as Robben prepared to shoot and I put my right hand to my right eye – the “evil eye”. Seconds later, we were screaming in joy again as Cech got down low, blocked the ball with his thigh and then smothered it.

Half time in extra time led to another exodus to the bar for water before another nerve-wracking 15 minutes, of which I remember very little. I think that night was the first time I have ever been petrified with nerves whilst being in a stadium. Then it was all over. It was coming down to penalties. Again. We were in God’s/deity of choice’s hands now. We watched on in disbelief as it appeared that Bayern weren’t only being allowed to take the first pen, but to take them at the home end. We waited….

Cech was unlucky not to save the first, and we found ourselves one down. Mata, to my disbelief given his record this season, strode up to take the second. And missed. Gomez scored his. We were two down. Luiz put us back in with a chance following his quality penality. Neuer, the goalie, bravely took the third. Frank converted; 3-2. Then Olic – who missed. We were definitely in with a chance. Another quality pen from Ash. 3-3. Schweinsteiger stepped up, only to hit the post.

It all rested on Didier’s shoulders. I murmured to myself “This ends. Now.” Time stood still as Drogs prepared a perilously short-looking run-up.

A moment’s silence.

Didier struck the ball.

Neuer went the wrong way.

We had won.

In that one moment, our world and our club’s history and future had changed forever. I simply stood there, tears pouring down my face. I found myself being hugged by the boys. I went across to rejoice with the Bruvvas. Then I found myself face to face with The Former Mr Baby. Both in tears, we simply enfolded each other in a long hug. I then went right down to the front of the stand in the hope of getting some precious pictures and found myself next to H. I said to him “Could you ever have thought, that night in Naples, that this would be the conclusion?” (but that’s another Travels). His reply was drowned out as the players began to climb the stairs to collect their medals and the precious trophy.

The next half hour or so will live forever in the memories of all Chelsea fans. Luiz on the crossbar. Torres on the crossbar. Stamford the Lion on the pitch. The players with the trophy. Blue is the Colour, The Liquidator, One Step Beyond in a glorious segue. People in tears. People looking at their watches (it was now after midnight and it was going to be a tight schedule for those on day trips). I realised we’d be on the train back to Stuttgart in just three and a half hours.

Eventually, hoarse and exhausted, we dragged ourselves away from the arena, laden with flags, back on to the concourse. We decided to have a post match water/coke and use the loos prior to setting off for the U-bahn. I suggested to Mr E. that given the lateness of the hour, the original plan to return to the Marienplatz wasn’t viable (this turned out to be prophetic). I met more friends coming down from the middle tier, and the bars were showing the game again. About 00.40, we set off for the U-bahn.

It had felt like a long walk to the stadium before the game. After, it felt like an eternity. When we got to the entrance, we found that there were many thousands of people still waiting to get on trains. We were quite lucky to heave ourselves (except for Pick Six, Steve and Matt) on to a train which was arriving, but this was the start of a nightmare journey.

However tough the journey out had seemed, it was paradise compared to the hour or so it took to get back to Marienplatz. The train kept stopping in tunnels. Passengers, already weary, were feeling the heat. Some got off when next stations were reached in the hope of finding taxis. Those with flights in the early hours on club/day trips were particularly anxious. My knees were shot to pieces.

Finally we reached Marienplatz, only to find ourselves with another long wait for a train. Eventually, about 02.00, we reached Hauptbahnhof. On the “Up” escalator into the station, I’d noticed something called “Rail and Clean”, which were presumably the loos that Pick Six had visited that morning. I made a note to return for a wash and brush up after I’d picked up the bag. We bade farewell to Dazza and Mrs A. who were off to their hotel. We were still missing Pick Six but texted to say we’d arrived at the station. Disappointed Bayern fans were milling about the concourse, but we were touched to be approached by several, offering their congratulations. They truly are an exceptional bunch of fans. After we collected the luggage, I told Mr E. that I was going to the loos to try and get changed, and made my way back down the escalator.

I paid the required Euro to enter the facility and before popping into a loo, a sign caught my eye. It wasn’t just loos they had, but showers. I went to the desk and asked the attendant how much for a shower. 7 Euros, he replied. With towels? I enquired. Fourteen Euros, came the reply. If he’d said 20, I’d have probably paid up at that point after the long, hot, travel weary 22 hours. He heaved a positive bundle of linen into my arms and unlocked the shower room. It was bliss. There was even a plug socket. I could have washed my hair, if only I’d had a dryer with me.

After the lovely shower, I got changed into blissful fresh clothes, and made my way to the platform, where I found Pick Six, Mr E. and H. propped against a bin, all seeming to be asleep. All over the station the scene was reminiscent of some major disaster. People slumped in heaps. Puddles of vomit. Discarded rubbish. Fifteen minutes later, the train arrived. There was a fearful scrum to board. We couldn’t locate our carriage. Mr E. and I became separated from the others. There were no seats to be had in the carriage we’d ended up in. People were occupying other peoples’ booked seats. I said to Mr E. that having already spent upwards of seven hours on my feet, I couldn’t stand for another two and a half, in line with my knee specialist’s mantra of no running, no kneeling and no standing for long periods. The decrepit joints were already making themselves known in no uncertain terms.

A gallant Chelsea fan kindly overheard and a seat was found for me. I slumped into it, exhausted. I rested my hot head against the cool window and waited for the clock to roll round to the departure hour of 03.25. I hoped to sleep, but failed. 03.25 arrived. The train appeared to be delayed. The minutes ticked by. Announcements were made in German. A fracas threatened to break out when a German passenger (who wasn’t a football fan) actually sat on a female passenger (not me) who was in his seat. It was firmly explained to him that none of us could get to our reserved seats. He was cordially invited to get off the lady or suffer the consequences. He desisted, but continued to verbally protest. Some passengers left the train. A friendly Bayern fan explained that under German law, a train cannot commence it’s journey if passengers were standing (good job that doesn’t happen in the UK…)

Finally, just before 04.00, an announcement to this effect was made in English, and passengers without seat reservations were requested to leave to enable others to take their correct seats. I got up and said to Mr E. ‘”let’s get out of here into our correct carriage, and if anyone’s in our seats, we boot them out”. He kindly hauled my holdall down from the shelf and we set off for the promised land of Wagon 25 where we did indeed locate our seats, with people already in them. The situation was explained, and they left without argument.

The carriage was comfortable and air-conditioned. We’d been sitting there for about 10 minutes, when Pick Six and H., having walked though the train, found us. The snacks and soft drinks bought the previous morning were shared out. Matt was last to arrive. Then, finally, an hour after the schedule departure time, the train rolled into life. “Wave bye bye to the Augustiner Keller” instructed Mr E. as the train left the station. Obediently, we waved wistfully. The dawn was already starting to break over Bavaria. The boys slept. I remained wakeful, not particularly wanting to fall asleep and end up in Dortmund, for where the train was eventually bound.

At Stuttgart I woke them and we staggered off. Breakfast was a burger from a well-known chain that isn’t McDonalds for the lads, with me eating some fruit, pastries and drinking Viennese coffee. We said goodbye to Matt as he wasn’t travelling back till the evening and fancied another crack at Zum Paulaner. We boarded the S-bahn back to the airport and arrived for our flight some four hours early. Pick Six and H. soon fell asleep in the departure lounge. I read and drank coffee, having declined the champagne that Mr E. had so kindly offered me. We blessed those reserved Germanwings seats and boarded, exhausted. Unusually for me, I fell asleep on the plane and twice woke up dribbling.

And that’s the end really. We bade each other farewell at Heathrow, me to head for the tube home, too exhausted to attend the parade, the boys waiting for a lift. And writing about the trip fills me with a certain melancholy because I know that whatever Chelsea achieve in future, be any trip never so uncomfortable as that to Munich was in parts, we will never again have what we had for those few days. A sense of living in epoch-making times, living history, not reliving it. So thanks to everyone involved in those magical few days, and thanks to our team, for making our dreams come true.

…to be European Champions.

(It wasn’t even our turn to win the FA Cup.)

At last I am starting to realise that Saturday night wasn’t just a dream. It really, really happened!

And now, after the event and with a sore head easing and reality setting in, I would like to give a quick reply to those people who have been saying our name was on the cup from the start – No. No, it wasn’t!

It’s true that as is normal for teams that win trophies, we had some moments of luck along the way, but there were many, many more moments when only determination or sheer hard work or pure skill made the difference.

And if you look at all our games, those moments are there in their hundreds, moments created by the players on the pitch and backroom staff off it.

Big decisions were made. Decisions that required consideration, intelligence and the skill and the guts to follow through.

It wasn’t “our turn” to win the cup. It wasn’t Fate. It wasn’t God. It wasn’t even a case of “things evening themselves out”.

Oh no, what it was, was determination, hard work and skill, shown by Chelsea players and by the management and the owner.

Take nothing away from the club, the squad, the individuals on (and off) the pitch. It was totally, one hundred per cent their effort and skill that resulted in the glory.

Let’s take nothing away from everyone Chelsea by saying stupid things like “it was Fate” or “it was our turn”.

Credit where it’s due: it was Chelsea. Nothing more, and certainly nothing less.

So congratulations to everyone involved from Roman, down through the club and out to all the fans. Everyone played a part: some played a bigger part than others but everyone contributed to putting our name on the role call of football history … AFTER the event.

Well done Chelsea. Pride of London. European Champions 2012.

Shortly before Christmas, off the back of a poor run but following qualification for the last 16 of the CL, this column wondered if the season could turn out to be something special (see Special Ones Too). And it certainly has, but not in a good way. A slew of defeats, players who don’t seem to be bothered about putting in a shift but are only too happy to collect their 000s of Ks every week, and continued reports in the media of problems in the dressing room culminated in yesterday’s abject performance at West Bromwich Albion, resulting in the dismissal today of Andreas Villas Boas, less than 9 months after his appointment as Chelsea manager.

As someone who has never received football coaching in their life, it is difficult for me to comment on the mechanics of a performance. All I see is players passing the ball. Whilst I’m au fait with systems and styles, like a typical woman, I prefer incidents to statistics. In spite of being there, I couldn’t tell you who scored our goals in the 3-2 defeat at Man Utd in September, but I remember Ian Marshall of Leicester pulling a hammy whilst trying to nutmeg Albert Ferrer in front of the still unroofed West Stand and getting celery chucked at him in about 1999. So I’m not really the one to say whether AVB didn’t know what he was doing on the tactics front. All I know that he failed to pull on a shirt in any of our games recently. Whilst the buck stops with the manager, our players have to look at themselves in the mirror and ask themselves how much they have contributed to letting the fans down.

It is not the first time player power has hastened the demise of a manager at Chelsea. As long ago as 2000, Gianluca Vialli lost the dressing room, and at the time when a revised Bosman ruling was being threatened resulting in contracts no longer being worth the paper they were written on, Ken Bates and Colin Hutchinson were presented with a “him or us” ultimatum by a number of players (this was confirmed to me by the respected Italian journalist Giancarlo Galivotti several years ago). Whilst Franck Leboeuf attracted most of the opprobrium directed at the players on this occasion, he was certainly not the only one involved and even tried to offload the blame on Gianfranco Zola – in a radio interview on the day of his last game at Chelsea, he commented “Gianfranco has much more power at Chelsea than me”. Indeed, Vialli’s own comments on Twitter today hint at a frosty relationship with the club’s new caretaker manager, Roberto di Matteo.

Stories about player unrest have abounded in the press recently, usually attributed to a “senior player”. I hope whoever he is, he will now expend his energies for the rest of the season in galvanising his team-mates to get their fingers out. The decision to appoint di Matteo as caretaker manager until the end of the season is an indication that Chelsea have a clear target in mind but need to wait until the end of the season. Were that not the case, either Benitez or Capello, both free agents, would have been appointed today. Given Jose Mourinho’s very public visit to London last week, combined with news of a further alleged visit on Monday, and information provided by a source to this column that Mourinho and Abramovich had dinner at a top London hotel last week, last week’s article “Return of the Special One” may yet prove to have been barking up the right tree.

As usual, the ones suffering most at this time are the fans. I know people who set off for Albion at 6am and reckoned they weren’t going to get home till midnight. Approximately 1600 hardy souls travelled to Napoli two weeks ago. As I write, Chelsea lie fifth in the premiership and no doubt there are those amongst the inter-continental support (and possibly one or two in the UK) who have decided that the club are so last decade, and transferred their support elsewhere. These are the very people that our CEO is keen on cultivating at the expense of those who invest their time and emotion, not to mention maxing out their credit cards, on supporting CFC in the flesh and not through the medium of their television.

I think the last time I felt so low about a manager was, surprisingly, the day Ruudi was sacked (when Jose left I was in an emotional maelstrom, and when Luca was sacked I was so ill that if Ken Bates had turned up to announce the news in person I probably wouldn’t have turned a hair). However, we Chels are a resillient lot. Whilst I’d be surprised if we sell out Birmingham away, the faithful will be out in force and giving 100% of their passion to the cause. Let’s hope the players can do the same.

An inevitable consequence of a spell of poor form or a season where expectations are not being met is the media’s take on the cause of the maladies.

Typically, the woes will be attributed to dressing room discontent and the notion that the manager has ‘lost’ his players, no longer commanding their respect.

True to form, this is currently the case with Andre Villas-Boas and Chelsea. The club’s worst season in any recent memory has fans and journalists alike scrambling to determine the reason things have gone so badly wrong.

Rightly or wrongly, many are led by the wordsmiths paid to deliver their ‘expert’ opinions to the masses on a daily basis and the knives are firmly out for the Blues’ ‘old guard’. ‘Player Power’ is once again in vogue as the explanation du jour.

Messrs Lampard, Terry, Cole, Drogba (and occasionally Cech) are personas non grata and, all being the wrong side of 30 in football terms, must be cast aside for the long-term good of the club.

Villas-Boas was hired for what he terms a ‘project’, an overhaul of an ageing and stale first-team squad and the implementation of an expressive, attractive style of football we’re told Roman Abramovich desperately craves.

There is no doubt that this needs to happen and inevitably will, but after another sorry night in a very sorry season, opinion remains split as to who is ultimately to blame; the players or the manager?

A simple answer is to suggest both are, and certainly blame must be apportioned appropriately with failures on every level on and off the field this season.

Yet the veteran contingent continue to be victimised amidst claims that Villas-Boas cannot truly begin to rebuild Chelsea until their excessive influence and ego is long gone and forgotten.

In Naples on Tuesday night, there were starts for Cech and Drogba but not for Cole and for Lampard, whilst captain Terry is set for an operation which will extend his absence to a rough total of three months.

Drogba has only just returned from international duty, whilst Lampard can hardly be called an ever-present under the new Portuguese manager, missing more games through ‘technical decisions’ than at any stage of his Chelsea career. The core of the team is, slowly, being dismantled, whether by design or by circumstance.

And what do we have to show for it? Fifth place, an FA Cup replay against a Championship club and an uphill battle to continue in the Champions League.

In a rain-sodden San Paolo Stadium, Chelsea capitulated with Villas-Boas’ tactics (not) being executed by Villas-Boas’ signings – Cahill, Meireles, Mata – and his regulars Luiz, Ivanovic, Bosingwa/Cole, Sturridge and Ramires.

It would be remarkably churlish to suggest that some amongst that group lack talent and whilst there are obvious names who have a bleak future at Stamford Bridge, make no mistake about it: this was the manager’s team playing the manager’s way.

There was no negative influence being exhibited by rogue agents on the pitch, and whatever their dressing room influence may be, morale can hardly be high after this most disappointing of campaigns anyway.

Italian journalists reported post-match that some Chelsea players were ignoring their manager’s instructions in the closing moments of the game. Having been bold, cavalier and even a little bit reckless earlier in the season, Villas-Boas has arguably become uncertain of himself, and whereas naivety may once have been an excuse, each passing game begs increasingly pertinent questions.

Why limit Ramires’ game by asking him to play horizontally rather than vertically? Why pair him in defensive midfield with Raul Meireles, who has consistently shown that he lacks positional awareness? Why not John Obi Mikel, Michael Essien or Oriol Romeu, players far more suited to doing the job required?

Why the persistence with players who are clearly not playing to the required standard? Why renege on your very obvious tactical philosophies mid-season after the first signs of trouble rather than press on with the change you so obviously want to make? Confusion now reigns, respect is being lost and your job is increasingly under threat.

This Chelsea team is better than its current state. International quality players not far removed from a domestic double achieved in record-breaking style now defend in kamikaze fashion, attack with stagnant predictability and have little in terms of confidence. Morale is shattered.

A transitional season can only be described as such if it is has a positive direction, else it’s a waste of a season. For the sake of stability it might be sensible to retain Villas-Boas and let him continue with his project, but for the sake of the club, maybe it’s not.

Leadership must be decisive, not uncertain. The only decisive behaviour we’ve seen this season has been from the very players who have been criticised and blamed for the decline. Meanwhile, the real leader appears as uncertain as at any point in his brief managerial career.

Big decisions lie ahead.

OK, so Chelsea’s 1-1 draw at Wigan on Saturday evening wasn’t exactly ridiculous, but a collection of errors saw the Blues contrive to throw away what should have been a routine three points.

After a fantastic performance against Manchester City on Monday night, a trip to a cold and snowy Wigan was always bound to be somewhat anticlimactic but from a position of relative strength after Daniel Sturridge’s second half opener, Chelsea allowed Jordi Gomez to equalise just moments from time to hand the hosts just a sixth home point of the campaign.

Andre Villas-Boas made just one change from Monday’s victorious eleven, restoring Frank Lampard to the midfield in place of Ramires, who was struggling with an injury.

David Luiz was eligible to return from a one-match suspension but he was left out as a precaution after also feeling a knock this week. Both Brazilians are said to be likely starters away to Tottenham next Thursday.

Wigan switched to an unfamiliar 5-3-2 formation with midfielder David Jones in an unfamiliar role at left back, whilst Victor Moses supported Connor Sammon up front.

The hosts set out their stall to make things hard for Chelsea, who had racked up 15 unanswered goals in their last three meetings with the Latics, and defended deep and in numbers.

It was to prove a successful approach, as a lethargic Chelsea side struggled without the direct running and remarkable endurance of Ramires in the midfield and lacked penetration throughout the first half.

A stooping header from Didier Drogba and a speculative volley by Oriol Romeu both went the wrong side of Ali Al-Habsi’s right hand post, whilst John Terry’s ambitious long-range effort flew wide the other side.

Wigan meanwhile had two penalty appeals fall on deaf ears as Martin Atkinson saw no infringements first on Jordi Gomez and then against Branislav Ivanovic, who saw a Moses effort hit a hand which was close to his body.

After an uninspiring opening gambit, Villas-Boas introduced Salomon Kalou for the second half, replacing Romeu, who was barely needed with Wigan preferring to attack only on the break.

The Ivorian immediately showed signs of life, shooting wide and creating a half-chance for compatriot Drogba within moments of his arrival.

Frank Lampard received a bloody mouth in a tussle with Maynor Figueroa but whilst the England international was receiving treatment on the touchline, his teammates fashioned a deserved lead.

Ashley Cole’s inch-perfect cross-field pass picked out Sturridge, who had escaped the attentions of his marker long enough to be able to trap the ball and fire a right-footed effort beyond the reach of Al-Habsi from a tight angle.

It was Sturridge’s ninth goal of the season, making him the club’s leading scorer in 2011-12.

With the lead safely secured Villas-Boas set about preserving it, reverting to his base formation by replacing Mata with John Obi Mikel. Roberto Martinez countered by throwing Franco Di Santo and Hugo Rodallega into the mix.

Spurred on by Chelsea’s apparent contentness with their slender advantage, Wigan pressed forward and began to make Petr Cech work. Figueroa was afforded space to size up a shot which drew a full-stretch save from the Czech custodian.

Terry received treatment after landing awkwardly in a tussle with Di Santo and caused some consternation for Blues followers after appearing to suffer a serious knee problem. He was however able to resume.

A sloppy backpass from defensive partner Branislav Ivanovic presented an opportunity to Rodallega but Cech was quick to scramble clear before the Serbian made amends for his error by heading Di Santo’s goalbound effort away for a corner.

Cech limped around having suffered a blow to the foot in collision with Rodallega, whilst Sturridge also felt the impact of a Wigan player when Figueroa landed awkwardly on his lower back.

The latter was replaced by Florent Malouda for the final ten minutes but the lion’s share of the game was being played in Chelsea’s half of the field.

That said, it came as something of a surprise when the leveller arrived. Bosingwa was caught high up the pitch and allowed Di Santo to run in behind. With Ivanovic forced to cover, it left Chelsea stretched and after Cech spilt Rodallega’s tame effort, Gomez was able to clean up with his fourth goal in five appearances.

Speaking after the match, Villas-Boas attributed the loss of two points to a lack of concentration:

‘We tried hard, it was difficult because Wigan are a different side now. They have momentum from their recent run of good results, the crowd were behind them and they fought hard to get the points.

‘They made the best of our lack of concentration. We had Bosingwa, Terry and Cole behind the ball but it was part of a situation where Cech lost track of the opponent and they scored.’

Chelsea (4-3-3): Cech, Bosingwa, Ivanovic, Terry (c), Cole, Romeu (Kalou 45), Meireles, Lampard, Mata (Mikel 66), Sturridge (Malouda 79), Drogba.
Subs not Used: Turnbull, Ferreira, McEachran, Torres.

Andre Villas-Boas finally had something to cheer about as Chelsea gave a performance which showed they are making progress and moving in the right direction after the recent debacles, after they broke Newcastle United’s unbeaten start to the season at home and recorded a 3-0 victory at St. James’s Park.

The pressure had been mounting on the young manager after a series of insipid performances which have resulted in us getting dumped out of the Carling Cup and fighting for our lives in the rest of the competitions.

Didier Drogba started, as hinted by Villas-Boas himself in midweek, alongside Juan Mata and Daniel Sturridge; with the midfield seeing Oriol Romeu continuing to hold his place, but saw the return of Frank Lampard after his exclusion in midweek.

Newcastle United on the other hand was missing the influential Jonas Gutierrez through suspension, while the ever-impressive Cheick Tioté failed to recover from his knee injury as Danny Gutherie continued in his absence.

After an emotional tribute to the former Geordie captain, the Late Gary Speed, the match started in spectacular fashion and had the biggest talking point of the game when David Luiz was let-off after bringing down Demba Ba when the Senegalese International had the chance to be through on goal.

The Chelsea fan’s favourite was very lucky to survive that decision, and then was thankful for John Terry that his slip in the box was cleared by the England captain, in what was a very shaky start from him.

As if Mike Dean was purposely planning to rile in the Newcastle supporters, he awarded a penalty to Chelsea at the other end when Yohan Cabaye tripped Daniel Sturridge, after Ryan Tayor failed to match up with the explosive speed of the youngster. Frank Lampard stepped up, but unfortunately Tim Krul was in inspired form and palmed it on to the post.

The Dutchman was again at hand to deny Chelsea when he saved from Daniel Sturridge. It was turning into a very open game courtesy of some weak defending on Newcastle part as Ryan Taylor continued to struggle without Jonas Gutierrez there to support him; and Sturridge was taking full advantage of this and beating him at every opportunity.

It wasn’t all Chelsea though; Newcastle kept plugging away at our less than formidable defence and could have taken the lead through Ba, but Cech did well to tip it over. Ba was again troubling the Chelsea defence when he headed in a brilliant cross Danny Guthrie at the post.

In between, it was a piece of Juan Mata trickery which created an opening for Didier Drogba after his deftest of touch left Danny Simpson hanging, but his great cross was cleared at the last minute by Ryan Taylor before Drogba could put it in.

Ryan Taylor was still struggling, but it got even worse for Newcastle when Fabricio Coloccini had to go off with a hamstring problem and was replaced by James Perch. It was always going to be tough for Perch to match up to the strength of Didier Drogba and it was no surprise when Didier Drogba managed to beat him to head-in the first goal of the match.

Ashley Cole took a quick throw-in which caught the Newcastle defence napping allowing Juan Mata to get-in behind and produce the cross for the first goal.

It should have been two just before the break when Frank Lampard released Daniel Sturridge, but in this 1-v-1 battle it was Krul who came out the winner again.

Newcastle were still livid over the David Luiz decision going into the break, but clearly other issues at hand to deal with in the interval.

Just after the break, Didier Drogba had a great chance to double our lead when he brought down a cross from the right almost perfectly, but couldn’t match it up with a similar finish and hit it into the side-netting.

The impressive Krul story was still in full flow; Ramires was denied of a quick counter after a Didier Drogba header under pressure from Ba came off the bar and found its way to Mata who released Daniel Sturridge, and his perfect pass found the Brazilian, in what was one of the best Chelsea counters you’ll see.

Chelsea were now holding a much better shape in defence and rarely looked in any trouble as Newcastle was now restricted to long-distance shots as first Amoebi and then Ba tried their luck.

The Blues continued to go for the elusive second goal which would make the game safe as Mata went very close after some work from Sturridge.

Newcastle was always going to test the Chelsea resolve with being only a goal behind and came close as John Terry cleared off the line before a thunderous strike from Shola Amoebi rattled the crossbar and a follow-up from Sammy Amoebi was saved by Cech.

The game was soon to be settled though as the much dreaded Salomon Kalou broke Tim Krul’s resistance and was followed up by a much deserved goal from Daniel Sturridge.

Daniel Sturridge was the star of the show, but there was a case for John Terry to share that mantle as he produced a scintillating performance of his own.

Some of the satisfaction of the result was blighted at the end when Andre Villas-Boas confirmed to the media that both Nicolas Anelka and Alex have had their transfer request accepted and are now training differently to the first team, meaning that most probably both of them had played their last game in Blue of Chelsea.

Andre Villas was a much relieved man and left satisfied ahead of the crunch clash against Valencia, he said; ‘It was a good, solid performance for the whole 90 minutes,’ he said. ‘To find this inner belief and strength today given recent results was the key.

’3-0 was probably slightly excessive, but we were coming up against a team on a great run and with one of the best defences in the league, we did fantastically well, and it was the fairest of results.’

Chelsea: Cech; Ivanovic, D Luiz, Terry (c), Cole; Ramires, Romeu, Lampard (Meireles 60); Sturridge, Drogba (Torres 78), Mata (Kalou 74th).

Scorers Drogba 37, Kalou 86, Sturridge 90+2.

A win, a clean sheet and three points in the bag, this sounds like the perfect recipe for a Saturday afternoon for this Chelsea team who have had a horrendous time off late, and this is what we got as Chelsea cruised to a 3-0 win over a below-par Wolves team.

There was a first start for Oriol Romeu as Frank Lampard was rested, while the rest of the team picked itself with Florent Malouda making way for the ever-impressive Daniel Sturridge.

Chelsea have been on a terrible run of form over the past month, winning just two out of seven games which has seen them slip to fifth spot in the league, but then the opponents, Wolves, were in even worse position; winning just one league game in over three months.

So, a game which would have been a home banker had the potential to be a much more even contest, but from the first minute of the game it was clear that it wasn’t to be.

Chelsea started the match brightly and was on the attack from the kick-off.

Raul Meireles was there in all the Chelsea attacks at the beginning, making the trademark Frank Lampard forward runs, and could have opened the scoring inside the first few minutes but failed to hit the target, first with a weakly  hit shot from distance, and then missed his kick from a Branislav Ivanovic cutback.

There was no relief for Wolves as Ramires then stole the ball away from Nenad Milijas and broke with venom, with Didier Drogba giving him a supporting role and taking defenders away, and released a low powerful drive which was brilliantly saved by Wayne Hennessey.

From the resultant Juan Mata corner, John Terry beat his marker, Roger Johnson, to head it in; albeit a deflection of their big-money summer signing to put Chelsea ahead inside the first 10 minutes.

It took more than 22 minutes for Wolves to muster their first chance of the night when good work down the left created an opening for Ward, but with the Ireland International so far out, he couldn’t direct his header and it failed to trouble Cech in goal.

Chelsea enjoyed lots of room and were rarely put under any sort of pressure, and in particular the Wolves full-backs, without any support, struggled throughout the first half, therein giving the Chelsea full-backs an easy route to move forward and deciding our way of attack.

This weakness was again exposed when Raul Meireles released Juan Mata, and the Spaniard easily went past Ronald Zubar to put it on the plate for Daniel Sturridge to double Chelsea’s lead.

Ashley Cole recovered from the ankle knock that kept him out of the Bayern Leverkusen game in midweek to start in the back four which now seems to be finally getting a sense of stability about it as John Terry, David Luiz & Branislav Ivanovic continue to start alongside the former Arsenal man, who has now made more appearances in a Blue shirt than in the red & white.

And Cole was a menace throughout for the Wolves team as he put in a great cross for Mata to score the third Chelsea goal on the stroke of half-time.

The start of the second half was again the same story as Ramires tested Wayne Hennessey from a brilliant volley.

This time though it didn’t take long for Wolves to create a chance of their own.  After some nice build-up play, Sylvain Ebanks-Blake found Ward with neat through ball, but once again Stephen Ward failed to hit the target in what was Wolves best chance on the night.

Chelsea continued their patient passing game and could have gone ahead further when Sturridge went on an impressive run after being released by Ramires on the halfway line, as he went past Christopher Berra with ease and glided into the box and looked for a fellow Chelsea player, only to see his pass cleared off the line.

There was still no pressure on the Chelsea players as Didier Drogba shot from distance after being given ample space. Then Juan Mata should have really made it four when a save off Sturridge shot rebounded to him, but he stuck his first time shot straight at Hennessey.

Wolves then themselves forced Petr Cech into a similar double save; Matt Jarvis tested Petr Cech from the edge of the box, and his shot was parried away, but luckily for Jarvis it rebounded straight to him and he found Ward with his cutback. Ward released a powerful shot but Cech was again there to clear the danger.

Chelsea continued to push and probe a hapless Wolves side, but didn’t manage to add to the three goals in the first half in what was a very comfortable afternoon for Chelsea players and fans alike.

Daniel Sturridge continued to threaten and added another goal to his impressive early season tally, while Juan Mata enjoyed a good day out after struggling to make any impact for the past few weeks.

Oriol Romeu also put in a decent shift in, but there will be sterner tests from him in the future after enjoying a comfortable and steady game.

Andre Villas-Boas epitomized the importance of three points, but maintained that a lot of works still needs to be done, he said; ‘We’re not going to fill ourselves with arrogance and think this is going to be a good period from now on.

‘We have to wait and see but what makes us proud in this difficult situation is that if we reflect on the games we played we didn’t deserve the results we ended up with and today we continued by being the same team but finally ended up with getting the result.

‘It was important for us to get the three points and we managed to shorten the distance to United and Newcastle but for us to be a continuous threat we will need to continue to win and we have a game against Newcastle soon then a game against the leaders to show we are a quality side. So let’s wait and see but today was important. ‘

Chelsea (4-3-3): Cech; Ivanovic (Bosingwa 76), D Luiz, Terry (c), Cole; Ramires, Romeu, Meireles (Lampard 69); Sturridge, Drogba (Torres 76), Mata.

Scorers: Terry 6, Sturridge 28, Mata 44.

The curse of Liverpool just doesn’t seem to end for the Blues as we suffered our third loss in our last four home games against the men from Merseyside.

Maxi Rodriguez had given Liverpool the lead in the first half, but Chelsea came roaring at them in the beginning of the second half before a late winner from the former Chelsea man, Glen Johnson, ruined the day and brought them level on points with us.

Rather than the indifferent form of the two teams it was the allegations of racism and wastage of money which dominated the discussion before the match as Andy Carroll and Fernando Torres continued to struggle.

Didier Drogba was drafted straight into the starting line-up after his return from injury having served his suspension last week, while David Luiz started in the centre of defence despite Alex keeping a clean sheet alongside John Terry at Ewood Park before the international break.

Liverpool likewise continued to bench the under-performing Andy Carroll, but brought in the effective trio of Maxi Rodriguez, Dirk Kuyt and Craig Bellamy in addition to Luis Suarez, thus assembling the perfect antidote for our undisciplined defence with their direct running and quick counters.

The game started pretty evenly with both sides matching each other, and so, despite having much of the possession Chelsea failed to create any clear-cut chances while Liverpool looked more than threatening every time they broke.

Juan Mata and John Obi Mikel were the first to try their luck, but failed to hit the target, while a Didier Drogba free-kick caused joyous celebrations amongst the Chelsea faithful only to be denied by the reality of it hitting the side-netting.

After this initial furore, the game settled down and Liverpool’s plan of being patient started to pay-off as the spaces began to open up with the pressure growing on the midfield and defence as we became non-existent as an attacking force.

Juan Mata who started the game brightly and enjoyed decent time on the ball as he spread the play by dropping deep, became anonymous as the game went on, much like the rest of our midfield.

Just on the half hour mark then, the Chelsea team were made to pay for their rather exhaustive backline problems with John Obi Mikel, isolated in possession, was robbed off just outside the box by Charlie Adam as Liverpool players ran like hungry foxes with Chelsea defence line nowhere to be seen, and hugely outnumbered them, allowing Maxi Rodriguez to easily score past Petr Čech after some nice interplay in the build-up.

It was all shambles at the back, consistent with our display this season, and it could have gotten even worse but only for a last minute interception by the irrepressible David Luiz, who was again having one of his typical games

Liverpool went into the game a goal to the good as the Blues produced a rather mediocre display in the first half.

With the team in dire need of some inspiration, Villas-Boas introduced the in-form Daniel Sturridge at the break in place of John Obi Mikel.

And much to the delight of everyone, the substitute had the desired impact as Sturridge pounced on the ball at the back post after a powerful driving run by Florent Malouda created the opening. This was Daniel Sturridge’s fifth goal of the season, although he definitely needs some work on those celebrations it seems.

This goal was the spark the team needed as we drove forward with intent and could have taken the lead just minutes after the goal when Branisalv Ivanovic’s header from a Didier Drogba free-kick looked goal bound until Pepe Reina produced a fantastic save to put it out.

Chelsea was now totally dominant and had majority of the possession and attacked in numbers, at times almost too lavishly and left lots of spaces at the back.

Florent Malouda, who was having one of his best games of the season so far, produced an acrobatic effort, but his overhead kick went wide of the post.

Liverpool were now on the back foot and only one team looked like scoring, especially more so when Kenny Dalglish replaced Craig Bellamy and Maxi Rodriguez, with the out-of-form duo of Jordan Henderson and Stewart Downing.

But as the case has been with us this season, the leaky defence came to fore again, and the opposite happened as Liverpool took a shock lead with less than two minutes of normal time remaining.

The goal came out of the blue as Chelsea were in the ascendency, but it didn’t surprise any of the home fans and sent the away fans, whose knowledge level were earlier called into question by their own club, into delirium.

Liverpool are now level on points with us, and only goal difference separates the four teams from fourth to seventh in the table. The fact that Spurs have played two games less and Arsenal was suppose to be in turmoil just a few weeks ago tells the story of our own precarious situation.

Time and again we have dominated games and come out of them with nothing, and when the average fan can recognize the problems we are facing then it wouldn’t be wrong to expect the 15m Euros man to be on top of the situation and provide the answer soon.

In the end, André Villas-Boas was left disappointed by the defeat, and gave the impression that reclaiming the League may already be getting out of hands, he said; “It’s a bad blow for us in the Premiership. It’s a big blow. In terms of the Premiership, things are difficult.

“We have a home game with Wolves next, before Newcastle and then the leaders and we have to try and win those games, as difficult as they are.

“There are lots of points on offer in November and December. The calendar gets tight and maybe we can get some extra points.

“But this is one step closer to an even more difficult situation.”

Chelsea: Cech; Ivanovic, David Luiz, Terry (c), Cole; Ramires (Meireles 83), Mikel (Sturridge h-t), Lampard; Mata, Drogba (Torres 83), Malouda.

Scorer: Sturridge 54.

Chelsea drew 1-1 with Genk away in Belgium, in the Champions League this evening.

Chelsea started with Cech in goal, Bosingwa on the right, Ivanovic & Luiz centrally, with Cole on the left.  Romeu took the defensive midfield slot flanked by both Ramires & Miereles, with Malouda, Torres, & Anelka up front.

The blues had opened the scoring through a Ramires goal in the 26th minute and it should have been doubled when Chelsea were awarded a penalty, however Luiz put the resultant kick wide.

Genk opened the second half brightly with the impressive De Bruyne delivering some dangerous balls into the box, and it was the youngster who set up the equaliser, crossing for Vossen to slot home in the 60th minute.

The goal prompted an immediate change by Villas Boas, bringing on Lampard and Sturridge for Ramires and Anelka, with many surprised that Malouda stayed on the pitch. Chelsea upped their game for a while after the substitutions but Genk were not out of the match and had some dangerous opportunities of their own.

Mata soon joined the fray in place of Romeu as Villas-Boas looked to win the match. Win it we could and maybe should have, with Sturridge, Malouda and Lampard all going close, and in the latter two’s case, being only inches away.

Villas-Boas reflected on the match, saying; “It’s not a bad result away from home but we expected to win, I wouldn’t say we lost control. We were quite organised in the first half and in the second half I think we shouldn’t confuse losing control of the game with emotions coming from the stadium.”

“We created enough opportunities again to try to win the game but it’s not happening for us in terms of efficiency. We got a penalty, hit the post and got in front of the goalkeeper a couple of times, so it’s about efficiency at the moment.”

“It’s things we need to focus on because it can put us clear in terms of the result and we can move clear for the second half with 2-0.” He added; “When you don’t the game is always open and there for you to be threatened. Genk made the most of a couple of opportunities they had, one went in and it finished 1-1.’

He reflected; “You play difficult games, and at the moment we are chasing hard this win, but we haven’t found it today. Our reflection must be on what we did in the game, was it enough to win? I think it was but we couldn’t find the back of the net and that made the difference.” Said Villas-Boas.

“It’s back to back games without a win but it is a draw away from home in the Champions League. We still lead the group, now we go to Leverkusen and expect to do something there.”

When asked about Luiz’s missed penalty, the gaffer replied; “We had David and Nicolas Anelka. We always assign two players for penalty kicks, it’s something we practice and all our penalty takers at the moment have missed one, from David to Nico to Lamps so in that sense we have to gain efficiency because all of them are extremely good penalty takers.”

“On the pitch between Nico and David had to decide, and the goalkeeper made a save.”

Chelsea (4-3-3): Cech (c); Bosingwa, Ivanovic, David Luiz, Cole; Ramires (Lampard 65), Romeu (Mata 76), Meireles; Anelka (Sturridge 65), Torres , Malouda.
Goal: Ramires 25

A tumultuous week for Chelsea Football Club ended in remarkable fashion Saturday lunchtime as the Blues were defeated 5-3 by Arsenal.

Robin van Persie’s hat-trick secured a huge three points for the visitors but it was the hosts’ defensive performance which was the subject of post-match discussion, as Arsene Wenger’s team found time and space with alarming regularity.

Andre Villas-Boas made two changes from the previous league outing away to Queens Park Rangers, with Fernando Torres returning from suspension to replace Didier Drogba, who was banned himself.

David Luiz was afforded a deserved rest as the only player to feature for the entire duration of the last two energy-sapping matches, whilst Nicolas Anelka failed a pre-match fitness test and was absent from the bench.

Even before Frank Lampard’s headed opener after a quarter of an hour the die had been cast in a frenetic match in which neither side seemed to care too much about defending.

Ashley Cole and Daniel Sturridge both made early gains in exposing Arsenal’s full-backs but their final delivery was lacking, whilst Ivorian forward Gervinho contrived to miss a wide open goal after Theo Walcott had roasted Cole for pace on a counter attack.

Lampard’s sixth goal of the season after a delightful cross from Juan Mata should therefore have seen Chelsea take a firmer control of proceedings but instead they found themselves stretched by Arsenal’s precise midfield approach play, and whilst van Persie wasted a golden opportunity at the far post, he wasn’t about to do his foes any further favours.

Mikel lost possession in his own half and lost Gervinho, who beat a poor attempt at an offside trap before squaring to his captain, who swept into an unguarded net.

The playground football continued almost unabated as Sturridge converted from Ramires’ cross but had done so from an offside position. The England Under-21 international had previously spurned a fine chance to extend the lead after an exquisite pass from Lampard but in front of the watching Fabio Capello failed to make a notable impression.

The Blues restored their lead shortly before half time when John Terry converted from a Lampard corner. After a week in which his name has once again hit the headlines, the club captain responded in familiar fashion by finding the back of the net.

Heading into the break with a lead, surely now Villas-Boas and his charges would look to consolidate their position and seek to take advantage of a notoriously favourable Arsenal defence?

Logic was to be defied yet again though, as Chelsea handed their opponents an equaliser on a silver platter. Jose Bosingwa was absent without leave and Sturridge failed to track full-back Andre Santos, who had time and space to beat Petr Cech from 18 yards.

The action immediately swung back the other way and from kickoff, Cole found himself bearing down on goal, but was crudely taken out by goalkeeper Szczesny.

The Polish custodian was given just a yellow card and admitted afterwards that he felt lucky to have stayed on the pitch.

Whether it was a turning point or not, the Blues continued to both play and defend in embarrassing fashion. No fewer than five players converged on a grounded Walcott but watched him get to his feet and the loose ball first before firing past Cech to seize the lead for the first time.

Chelsea’s manager responded with positivity, introducing Florent Malouda, Romelu Lukaku and Raul Meireles, and they had the desired effect as two of the replacements were involved in the game’s sixth goal.

Meireles closed down with tenacity to win possession and Lukaku used his ample frame to shield the ball into Mata’s path. The Spaniard unleashed a wicked effort from fully 30 yards which veered away from Szczesny and into the top corner to make it 3-3.

From despair and tension, the Stamford Bridge crowd had been lifted from their slumber and now urged their heroes to muster one last effort in search of victory.

Instead, a wildly mis-placed pass by Malouda left Terry scrambling, and as he fell over he presented van Persie with a clear route on goal. He duly rounded Cech and rolled the ball into the back of the net to secure the victory.

He added gloss to the day on both a personal and a team level with an emphatic finish in stoppage time to complete a hat-trick and put the seal on an utterly forgettable afternoon for the Chelsea faithful.

The Blues should have been out of sight before half an hour had even been played but a combination of poor execution from the players and obvious flaws in their defensive approach combined to shipping five goals for the first time in over a decade.

Let the inquest begin.

Chelsea: Cech; Bosingwa, Ivanovic, Terry (c), Cole; Ramires (Lukaku 72), Mikel (Meireles 75), Lampard; Sturridge (Malouda 61), Torres, Mata.
Subs not Used: Blackman, Bertrand, David Luiz, Romeu.