Chelsea are only one perfect performance away from heading to Munich. One performance away from having a chance at finally lifting the UEFA Champions League.

This more than anything is what we want most. It’s the one Terry and co. haven’t won. The one that has eluded us through refereeing ineptitude, wild controversy and plain old bad luck. The side that progresses will be the one that wants it more.

We’ve been here before. We have shown that we are capable, if any side in europe is? We can beat Barcelona. We did it last week, and without allowing Barca an away goal. And that means we don’t have to win on this most vital of Tuesdays.

Let us put the past behind us though, but who can forget the most impressive opening of any Chelsea side with Duff slotting home. Or the sublime goal of the ever impressive Frank Lampard from an impossible angle that he maintains he did intend. Or even Ashley Cole crossing to Drogba who spun and smashed the ball home. Maybe we shouldn’t forget the past, lest we doom ourselves to make the same mistakes.

It doesn’t take a talismanic Ivorian forward to know that we’ve been robbed in the past against this over-hyped Barcelona side, and ‘f***ing disgracefully’ at that. That doesn’t matter though. We can only try control what we actually can control. We can’t control the fact that commentators the world over will fail to objectively report the game. We can’t control the referee. For large parts of the game we won’t control the ball.

Chelsea haven’t changed much from the side that saw Iniesta steal that goal in 2009, but neither have they. Barcelona play through the middle. They have no real width. They have no true striker. They lack a truly world-class goalkeeper. They have revolutionised football without ever having a plan B.

Messi can be stopped, he has never scored a goal against Chelsea. Xavi can be stopped, I call it the Mikel effect. Before the first leg Pep Guardiola, who is no Special One, just very familiar with the Catalunyan way, admitted difficulty in formulating how to create scoring opportunities against Chelsea. He wasn’t bluffing. He now claims he has no doubts they will prevail.

Now he is bluffing, as even the happiest married couple will tell you, there are always doubts. It won’t be easy, as playing any great side is never easy, but we are a great side too. Even if we aren’t thought of as such. If we lift The Champions League trophy in Munich that might change though.

We must be dynamic. We must be at the top of our game. Barcelona will play their pretentious form of anti-football that monopolises possesion, but we have to play the Chelsea way. The defensive discipline, the decisiveness in front of goal and the refusal to lose. Cech and Mikel have returned to form. Mikel’s interception of Robin Van Persie’s little disguised pass on saturday was nothing short of brilliant.

Gary Cahill and John Terry need to be immense again, and continue displaying a solidity that must have the english FA licking their collective lips. Ivanovic cannot be caught out as often as he was in the first leg. Didier Drogba’s one man campaign of terror must continue, on his day he is simply unplayeable. Ashley Cole must allow the world to see he is the best left-back on the planet, yet again.

Mata cannot drift out of the game completely for long periods. Frank Lampard must once again prove ageist sceptics wrong; yes, he is a better player than Steven Gerrard. Ramires must put in a yet another player-of-the-season performance. If we play to our strengths and do what we must do, we can do what too many don’t believe Chelsea can.

If we can somehow nick a goal and maintain our shape for the entirety of the match we will go through to the final, but we can’t play for a scoreless draw and we can’t waste possession when we do have it.

The team that wants it the most will progress. Has the Barcelona bubble popped? Are they about to experience the joy people have in tearing down heroes and making them villains? Will we have a shot at ultimate glory come the final or will we once again rue what might have been? I think the final result will be 0-0 in the Camp Nou.

Mission Possible. As always blue is the colour. See you in Munich.

 “They seek him here/they seek him there/those Frenchies seek him everywhere/Is he in heaven?/Or is he in hell?/The demn’d elusive Pimpernel”
The Scarlet Pimpernel – Baroness Emma Orczy

The arrival of The Special One in London this week on a not so secret visit has sparked a frenzy of speculation amongst the media, who are linking him with not only every post at the top end of English club management but also the national team job.  We at The Chels aren’t averse to a good speculate ourselves, and if you look behind the pictures, a pattern is starting to emerge.

1. Other than the widely circulated pictures of fans he bumped into on his visit, it emerged on Twitter yesterday (I know, I know, but it’s amazing how much useful stuff gets in to the public domain via that particular medium) that the man pictured with Mourinho is called Mark Foley.  Mr Foley is allegedly employed by Chelsea FC in a role which assists club staff in sourcing accommodation.

2. Chelsea TV showed a “Best of Jose” compilation last night.

3. The club yesterday announced that they would be touring the US next summer.  Jose’s pre-season tour of choice.

Coincidence?  Possibly. 

Today’s stories in the media have reported that Jose told fans on Tuesday that he wasn’t returning to Chelsea.  However, when Sir Percy Blakeney was quizzed as to whether he was Scarlet Pimpernel, he denied it.  Of course Jose isn’t going to cough up that sort of information.

This week’s events have further ramped up speculation as to where his Specialness will be plying his trade next season.  One thing pretty certain is that it’s unlikely to be Madrid.

Derek McGovern of the Mirror, a man whose “tips” are usually so wide of the market he really should be had up under the Trades Description Act, says William Hill are offering 3-1 for the Bridge to be Jose’s next stop.  For once, he might be on to something.

Follow me on Twitter @BlueBaby67

So, Chelsea supporters, you’ve had a tough time of it recently. And now you’re off to meet Napoli in the Champions League, hoping against hope that this will be what brings your club back from the brink.

Well, in case you’ve been hiding under a rock, I’m here to tell you — this tie just might not be the simple one you’re wishing for. If you’ve been paying attention, you’ll know that Napoli won’t be that easy to beat, particularly at home.

At first glance, it looks as though the partenopei are in a “crisis” similar to Chelsea. After all, they’re in sixth place in Serie A, and were just beaten by league newcomers Siena in the Coppa Italia. And yes, it really hasn’t been a fun season to be a fan of Napoli, unless you like frustration, roller coasters, and the fear that you’re about to have a heart attack.

The club wasn’t prepared to play in three competitions, and Coach Walter Mazzarri made some questionable decisions with the rotation of players.

But this is a squad that rises to the occasion, and hosting Chelsea will certainly be a reason for them to show off. Mazzarri won’t be present on the touchline, after shoving Nilmar during the 2-0 win over Villarreal, but that doesn’t mean his presence won’t be felt. He’ll certainly make sure that Napoli put their best faces forward.

Hugo Campagnaro is a doubt after limping off in the 3-0 victory over Fiorentina on Friday, but there are no other injuries or suspensions to deal with.

That means the starting XI should be predictable: Morgan De Sanctis; Gianluca Grava, Paolo Cannavaro, Miguel Britos; Christian Maggio, Walter Gargano, Gokhan Inler, Camile Zuniga; Marek Hamsik, Ezequiel Lavezzi; Edinson Cavani.

And of course it’s the front three that the Blues should be worried about: the Three Tenors, The Trident, and The Holy Trinity. A search through the matches in which Napoli have struggled reveal that these are the ones in which one of the threesome were dropped. Those who give the partenopei just a glance believe that it is Cavani that holds all the cards, and while it is true that the Uruguayan is a talisman of sorts, without Hamsik and Lavezzi, the system simply doesn’t work.

The two that support Cavani may not have his goal tally, but if Chelsea concentrate simply on stopping El Matador, they won’t be very effective. Hamsik, despite often being criticized by those who rarely watch him play, has the vision, is the one that reads the game and can execute the perfect pass at exactly the right moment. When he’s rendered ineffective, the entire team suffers. Then there’s Lavezzi, who can terrorize with his trickery, and whose pace will certainly frighten much of the Chelsea defense.

This isn’t to say Cavani won’t be a worry. He’s more than a simple poacher, a striker that relies upon service from the rest of the players. He certainly has a nose for goal, but Cavani invades the entire pitch, running back to defend before appearing in the box to head in a cross or nudge the ball into the net. With Chelsea’s backline looking so shaky as of late, it’s hard to imagine a scenario in which the partenopei don’t create multiple goal-scoring opportunities. And we haven’t even discussed the threat of Christian Maggio on the right wing — whichever makeshift left-back steps in for the visitors — won’t be prepared to handle his speed.

So, how to break down the partenopei? Overwhelm them in midfield and cross your fingers that the Chelsea defense is up to the task. And, of course, there’s Didier Drogba and Daniel Sturridge, whom I presume will be starting for Chelsea, the thought of which makes me anxious. The Napoli three-man backline has also had a tough time of it recently, and if Grava starts in place of Campagnaro, it will be even weaker.

The Blues certainly have more than a chance in this tie — if they can overcome their recent performances, that is. And, if they bring earplugs to drown out the noise of the San Paolo. That will be enough to get even the most experienced knees shaking.

This introduction to Napoli was contributed by Kirsten Schlewitz, who is a Napoli and Aston Villa fan, and contributes to 7500 to Holte and SB Nation Soccer. You can follow her on Twitter here @7500_Kirsten.

Apologies for the hiatus in our perambulations across Europe, whilst we’ve been diverted by weightier matters closer to home.  But with the Champions League winter break almost behind us, and a trip to Napoli heaving into view, it’s time to re-visit la bella Italia.

With The Special One having joined Internationale following his departure from the Bridge, it was inevitable that we’d meet him in the Champions League, and when the draw for the round of 16 paired the clubs together, a number of hasty telephone calls with a few pals resulted in some fairly cheap flights to Milan, a half-decent hotel next to the station and an early trip to Gatwick to fly out the day before the game. 

It’s worth remembering that Milan is served by two airports, and whilst Linate is the junior partner, it’s certainly more convenient for the city centre (as I discovered last March when my flight to Pisa was diverted to Milan Malpensa when the windscreen in the cockpit cracked whilst flying over the Alps and I was told that it would take nearly as long to get to central Milan as it would to wait for the replacement plane).

Having evaded the squadrons of mini cabs looking for a fare and located the official taxi rank, a 20 minute ride took us to our hotel and following check-in and a meet up with a mate who was in another nearby hotel, we set out to explore the city. One of our party (let’s call her K) had expressed a wish to visit an outlet store in the Via Manzoni where highly desirable designer goods could be purchased at heavily discounted rates, so we decided to call in there.  It was the first in many shopping disappointments for me on this trip.  Nothing worth having, in my book, or hers.  We then decided to head for the famous Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II, packed to the brim with Prada, Gucci, Chanel and other leading designers.  On the way, we passed La Scala, one of the world’s most famous opera houses.  Another disappointment.  It looked incredibly utilitarian and municipal.  I’d been expecting something along the lines of the ROH, where I occasionally patronise the cheap (sic) seats, or the heavily rocco’d Paris Opera.

The Galleria Vittorio Emanuel reminded me of nothing so much as the Great Western Arcade in my native Birmingham, but with shops infinitely out of my price range.  Even K. was heard to mutter in Prada “too expensive” whilst Jimmy M., the sole male member of our party was told by G., “If you bought your wife one of those [£1000] bags, you could have your dinner cooked at 6pm every night for the rest of your life”, to which he replied “at those prices, I’d cook it myself”.

Whilst strolling back towards the Metro, I’d decided to call up a couple of pals who were also over for the game, Mr E. and Dazza A, who’d promised to join us at a dinner in the Porta Rossa for my flatmate, whose birthday it was (see also Travels with the Chels – Stuttgart).  Whilst the phone rang, I looked ahead of me, and to my amazement saw them standing 50 yards away from me.  We firmed up arrangements for dinner, and made our away back to the station and our respective hotels to bathe and change.

The restaurant in Porta Venetia necessitated a cab through the dark streets, however we arrived a little after the appointed time and made our way through an unlovely corridor into what appeared to be an outdoor bar and restaurant protected from the elements by a marquee.  We were shown to our table, where our friends were waiting and proceeded to order.  When it came to the Contorni (side dishes), the waiter was asked about a salad.  He said “this is a beautiful dish.  You have tasted nothing like it”.  Therefore an order was placed for it to share amongst us, together with a more prosaic side of chips.  So the food arrived and the wine flowed.  When the mysterious salad arrived, four or five of us tested it. I thought it was like an extra vinegary coleslaw.  “Be careful”, warned Dazza A. “That could go right through you”.  Prophetic words.

So the meal went on, only threatening to come to a fractious head when the bill arrived for a seemingly extortionate sum, which was resolved by the discovery that we’d been charged for more main courses than we’d had and the fact that the waiter had thought the party at the next table were with us.  With the usual grousing accompanying a large party (“I only had a main course”, “I didn’t drink all that beer”, “I didn’t have a side order) – we settled up and adjourned to the bar for drinks.

By the time 1am arrived, having had a few drinks, I was starting to feel tired.  My tummy was also starting to rumble in an ominous manner, and I decided to go back to the hotel, leaving K and G in the doubtful care of Dazza A.,whom I left outside the restaurant asking a cabbie what sort of low nightclub they could go on to.  I got back to the hotel just in time.  Dazza A’s prophecy came to pass and I spent much of the next two hours firmly clamped to the loo, clutching a packet of Immodium.  By 3am, the sickness had passed, and I crawled into bed just as K and G arrived back, not having much luck in finding a venue with suitably banging tunes.  G curled up in her bed and went to sleep, but K and I spent a most amusing hour playing “Arse versus Elbow”, in which the competitors take a picture of their arms crooked at the elbow, with the wrist pointing down, to see whose arm ends up looking most like arse cheeks.*

In spite of the uproar in my stomach, I slept, only to wake at 8am.  I thought I’d better go and try to have some breakfast but in spite of the tempting array, I could only manage a little toast and coffee and retired back to bed.  We hadn’t formulated any particular plans for the day, but over their breakfast K and G received intelligence of more friends arriving in town, and decided to go off to a bar to meet them.  I simply wasn’t up to sitting in a pub and lay in bed with the window open, praying I wasn’t going to be too ill at the football.  I was also considering the implications of wasting the whole of the day in bed.  Eventually it was too much for me, and I decided that the pub might have been out, but I could do some quiet sightseeing on my own.  I was determined at least to see the Duomo (Milan’s Cathedral), and I’m glad I did.  I’ve visited many of Europe’s great churches now, and there’s no doubt that Milan’s has got to be near the top of any connoisseur’s list.  In spite of the large numbers of visitors, it still maintained an air of peace and holiness that are lacking in others (Florence, for example).  I even managed to attend a mass in a side chapel, where I devoutly prayed for a win against Inter.  As many of the shops were close to the Cathedral, including La Rinascente, Italy’s main department store chain, I paid them a visit (mainly to laugh at the prices), and also went on the City Sightseeing tour in the pleasant winter sun.  I also hoped a light meal of pasta in the restaurant next the hotel would succour my recovering stomach against the night at the San Siro.

Having joined up again with the others, the ladies of the party spent a pleasant hour customising some specially bought Fila y-fronts, in tribute to Ashley Cole’s recent marital problems with the bon mots “Girls Allowed” which we planned to smuggle in past the stewards.  Then we headed to the recommended metro station to meet the buses which would take us to the ground.  Happily ours was full of Chels, but the drive to the ground seemed to take hours, in a huge Milanese traffic jam.  By the time we got to the ground, the game was about to start, and we hoofed up the circular walkways.  Halfway up, I was starting to feel unwell again.  In a throwback to the Old Wembley area, male (natch) fans were starting to use the walkways as a urinal, having been caught short after too much Peroni.  Eventually, we reached the top, only to find the view of the pitch obscured by netting, presumably to stop supporters from the upper tier throwing anything on to those below.  In a state of disbelief we took our seats, just in time to see Diego Milito open the scoring on 3 minutes.  To say we were disgruntled, at this point, would be an understatement.  However, the team dragged themselves back into the game, playing some decent attacking football.  And in spite of Jose Mourinho’s burgeoning reputation as a defensively minded football, Inter looked capable of scoring every time they had the ball.  Just before the interval, we should have had a penalty when Kalou was upended by Walter Samuel, a foul seen by everyone, it seemed, apart from the ref.  Half time saw us still a goal down, but hopeful at such an early stage in the tie. 

Just eight minutes into the second half, a miracle.  An equaliser from Salomon Kalou, following a rampage down the right by Ivanovic.  The decision to drop Joey Cole looked like a good ‘un.  But our dreams of a draw with a crucial away goal were dashed only four minute later when Esteban Cambiasso was the beneficiary of a couple of weak clearances, first by Carvalho and then Terry, and we found ourselves 2-1 down.

Worse was to follow when Petr Cech had to be carried off shortly after in one of those inexplicable turf accidents, to be replaced by Hilario.  Say what you like about Chelsea’s No. 2, he’s never let us down when he’s been called into the fray, and the game ended without us shipping any more goals.  The Inter fans celebrated as if they’d just won the Champions League, never mind about a round of 16 first leg, their joy magnified by a victory over a team now managed by the former boss of their bitter local rivals, AC Milan, the amiable Carlo Ancelotti.

The Chels settled down for the usual inevitable post-match lock-in, but this proved to be probably the most enjoyable part of the evening, save the Kalou equaliser.  The San Siro Wheels of Steel rocked us to the sounds of The Clash, The Jam, Madness, Squeeze and many other favourites.  It’s almost as if they’d done their research.

There was some unpleasantness on the way out as the doors at the bottom of the walkways were blocked by Carabinieri to avoid any potential clash between any Inter Ultras hanging around (of which there were a few) and our fans – the queues backed up unpleasantly and some misguided individuals decided to have an off with the Police; never a good idea in any country, downright foolish anywhere in Italy.  It is purely my opinion, and of course we were probably in the rubbish bit of the ground, but rather like the Stadio Olimpico in Rome, the Giuseppe Meazza looks great on TV, but does not live up to the reality.  Happily I didn’t find it necessary to use the “facilities”, but I’m told there were two loos for 4,000 visiting fans.  Animals would probably be treated better.

However, eventually we got ourselves on a bus and reached the metro in time to take a late train back to our hotel.  The evening concluded with a few drinks (non-alcoholic in my case) in the bar, but with the firm conviction we could still turn the tie around.

The next morning, Jimmy M. met us at our hotel to join the flight home and said that he’d been feeling lousy, and a subsequent conversation with Dazza A. confirmed he’d been ill too.  We all had one thing in common; we’d had the coleslaw salad at dinner on Tuesday evening.  However, conversations with other friends confirmed that the sickness hadn’t just been confirmed to us.  I’ve never heard of so many cases of illness during a European trip and whilst I don’t know what other people were eating, the moral appears to be of the story is whilst in Europe, be a salad dodger!  This is of course something which those off to Naples might want to bear in mind…

Speaking of which, I’m packing my tiny bag for my first European away trip of the season, which hopefully will bring enough stories to furnish a future “Travels”.  In the meantime, you can follow me on Twitter @BlueBaby67

*Readers travelling to Naples may find this a cheap way of filling any empty hours.

Another game, another defensive mistake and another goal conceded, and this time that goal made all the difference as València snatched a draw right at the end at Estadio Mestalla.

Frank Lampard had given the Blues the lead just before the hour mark, but a handball by his substitute, Salomon Kalou, gave the hosts a chance to equalise from twelve yards out from which Roberto Soldado coolly finished.

After being red carded at the weekend which resulted in a three game ban, Fernando Torres started the game as expected, so the fit again Didier Drogba had to be contend with a place on the bench along with the in-form, Nicolas Anelka, as Florent Malouda was given the opportunity to start up front.

València had the impressive Roberto Soldado up front alongside Pablo Hernández, while the on-loan Real Madrid man, Sergio Canales, was given a free role.

The hosts made a really shaky start at the back and gave an early chance to Fernando Torres from a misplaced pass, but the Spaniard had a heavy touch, and thus gave the defender a chance to get back amid some muted penalty appeals.

The generosity continued as Florent Malouda was let free as he found the crowded Ramires. And then Ramires had an even better opportunity to open the scoring, but was hauled down, with him on one of his lung-bursting runs. The resulting free-kick taken by Frank Lampard tested the nervous looking Diego Alves, but scoreline remained intact.

Ramires was in the thick of things, and so it was worrying sight for Chelsea fans when he took a bad knock on his shin from Miguel and required lengthy treatment, but fortunately he was able to get back. In the meantime, València looked to take advantage of Chelsea being down to ten men and created their best chance with Pablo Hernández hitting his first time shot into the side-netting.

Fernando Torres and Juan Mata combined well throughout the first half, but lacked that final touch which would open up the defence as the game died down and started to resemble more of a chess match with both sides cancelling each other out.

Despite looking innocuous at best, València had loads of possession and could have made the Blues pay for the earlier missed chances, but Hernández’s volley on the turn was hit straight at the keeper and the half finished goalless and devoid of any good attacking football.

The start to the second half couldn’t have been more different as both teams played at a frantic pace. Chelsea were first to take advantage of this spell when a brilliant cross in from the right found Fernando Torres as the Spaniard rose above the defender to put in a powerful downward header, but Diego Alves produced a world class one-handed save to keep it out.

València then had the chance of their own, but the slightest of touches of John Terry’s head was enough to put Soldado off as he headed it just wide from close range under no pressure.

The game was now fully stretched and it only looked a matter of time before the deadlock would be broken, and for the all world it looked like it was going to be broken by Fernando Torres when Frank Lampard found him with delicate chip, and just like on the weekend, Torres’s first touch and shot were brilliant, but was equally matched by Diego Alves in this case, to deny him a third consecutive goal in as many games.

The Brazilian keeper epitomised the skills of València manager Unai Emery, who continues to build teams after teams, despite losing his best players, as he wasn’t fazed and lived up to the challenge after the initial nerves were gone, and then went on to save an own goal from point blank range after taming down Torres.

His one man resistance was soon to be broken though when Frank Lampard rifled in a precise first time shot from the edge of the box after some neat build up play by Florent Malouda on the right side.

It was a welcome relief for Lampard, whose future had been under immense scrutiny over the past week or so, and after the game he said; “I love playing for this club. I am very proud of playing here. I’ve had knocks before in my career – it makes me work harder to come back.”

The goal was expected to be the catalyst for further dominance by the Blues, but it wasn’t to be, and on the contrary gave València the incentive needed to go out and attack.

The game then settled into a pattern of us defending back and València testing us.

An over the top ball found the Roberto Soldado and he was able to beat Petr Cech, but in the process was forced out wide and couldn’t find any of his teammates with the cut back.

Pablo Piatti, Sofiane Feghouli and Rami all tried their luck from distance but to no avail and at this point Chelsea were hanging on, but were constantly getting found out by over the top balls looking for diagonal run of València players.

Jonas then went one step ahead and forced Čech into a great diving save. The resulting corner would prove to be decisive as Salomon Kalou carelessly gave away a penalty for handball from which Soldado didn’t miss with only four minutes of normal time remaining.

Chelsea had one final chance at the other end, but Diego Alves was once again the hero for the hosts as he kept out Nicolas Anelka from close range.

Despite being a relatively clean game, except for some playacting by Éver Bangea and the disgusting green laser following Fernando Torres around, the game ended in a chaos after the Italian referee, Nicola Rizzoli, blew for full-time whit Chelsea ready to take a free kick in Valencia’s half.

The referee then booked Juan Mata and Ashley Cole in the aftermath as the players needed to be escorted out to avoid any further trouble.

València gave a good account of themselves with Sergio Canales in particular putting in a very impressive performance.

André Villas-Boas was left a little disappointed with the late equaliser, but praised the performance on the pitch, he said; ‘We came out for the second half stronger and we had very good opportunities to score a goal before we did, but towards the end Valencia gained the momentum which they should because they were desperate for a point.

‘We came out for the second half stronger and we had very good opportunities to score a goal before we did, but towards the end Valencia gained the momentum which they should because they were desperate for a point.’

Chelsea: Cech; Bosingwa, D Luiz, Terry (c), Cole; Ramires (Meireles 65), Mikel, Lampard (Kalou 82); Mata, Torres (Anelka 72), Malouda

Scorer – Lampard 56

A late goal from Juan Mata rounded off another opening day victory in the Champions League, after a brilliant strike from David Luiz had broken the deadlock in Andre Villas-Boas’s first game in charge in Europe.

With the game against Manchester United on the weekend in mind this was a decent result after many of the regular starters were given a rest, as Villas-Boas surprised everyone by resting the likes of John Terry and Frank Lampard.

On the other end there was an emotional return to Stamford Bridge for Michael Ballack, his first return to the Bridge since the departure in the summer of 2010, and was awarded with a commemorative silver plate by Bruce Buck before the start of the game.

After starting on the bench against Sunderland on the weekend, Fernando Torres was back in the starting line-up and immediately sprung into action after his effort, resembling a somewhat overhead kick, went just wide of the goal.

However, it was Leverkusen who had the ball in the first, but it was ruled offside, although it was unclear what prompted the officials to give that decision. Chelsea followed this up with their own disallowed goal after a back flick by Torres was put into the net by Raul Meireles, but this time it was correctly ruled offside, even though it was uncertain if Meireles touched the ball, but he was definitely in an offside position.

Michael Ballack had the best chance to open the scoring for Leverkusen, but his free kick was straight on the wall, and that was about it as far as Leverkusen’s attacking threat goes for the half.

Daniel Sturridge looked in fine form as he forced the Leverkusen keeper into a save from a fierce shot from distance, and then later again tried his luck again but his shot went just wide.

Chelsea were totally dominating the possession with Obi Mikel having a fine game in the middle as he seemingly maintained control of the ball and made vital interceptions, whilst Daniel Sturridge and Juan Mata provided the creativity and sharpness up front.

Part of this domination was also helped by Chelsea having a very strong left hand side on the pitch wherein Ashley Cole, Florent Malouda and Juan Mata, all combined very well throughout the game.

The second half started with Michael Ballack again having the chance to open the scoring, as he was played through on goal after some nice one touch football on the left hand side, but under pressure from Bosingwa and with Cech surging towards him, he didn’t have the time to open up his body and take a proper shot in what was the best chance of the match so far.

Petr Cech was again forced into save just minutes later by Schurrle, who was perhaps the best player for Leverkusen on the night.

After this initial hurrah by Leverkusen at the start of the second half, Chelsea again regained control of the game and started to play their own game.

And with just over an hour gone, it was time for Villas-Boas to ring in the changes as Frank Lampard and Nicholas Anelka were called into action in place of Raul Meireles and Daniel Sturridge, who was having a good game, meaning this represented somewhat a pre-planned move. At the same time, Michael Ballack was also substituted to a standing ovation from the whole ground.

Just as the former German Captain went off, Chelsea scored in the next minute courtesy of a wonderful strike from David Luiz. After going on a trademark marauding run from the back, much like what Ricardo Carvalho used to do, and laid it off to Ashley Cole, he continued his run and when Torres set it up for him; he curled an immaculate shot into the bottom corner.

With Luiz’s name resonating from the stands, the Brazilian made it a point to acknowledge the contribution of Torres in the goal by pointing towards him.

Even after going behind, Bayer Leverkusen hardly threatened the Chelsea goal, and it was the Blues who looked to get another goal to seal the game, as a Mata shot was tipped over the bar by Leno.

And it was Mata only who then got the late goal to shatter any hopes of Leverkusen getting a late equaliser. A sprint by Torres down the left against a tiring defence meant that he was through on goal, and with an opportunity to open his account in front of him, the striker unselfishly squared it to Juan Mata who made no mistake.

The two assists would have done a world of good to Fernando Torres’s confidence and also gave Villas-Boas something to give back to the press, as the striker made a meaningful contribution to the team.

It remains to be seen what composition does the manager chose for the big game against Manchester United, but at least he won’t be short of options with many players putting up their case with decent displays.

Andre Villas-Boas insisted that his team selection wasn’t a gamble and was delighted with the performances of his players, he said; “We have a very, very competitive squad and a tremendous calendar in front of us.

“I think this decision has to be taken bearing in mind the amount of minutes people collect internationally and the amount of talent that we have at our disposal.

“The team that we selected today was a team that gave us comfort to win the game and that’s what we did.”

He added: “Everybody has been amazing in this effort to absorb all of these new ideas. I’ve very happy with everyone.”

Chelsea: Cech (c); Bosingwa, Ivanovic, D Luiz (Alex 75), Cole; Meireles (Lampard 64), Mikel, Malouda; Sturridge (Anelka 64), Torres, Mata.

Scorers David Luiz 67, Mata 90+1.

One of the tenets of being a football fans is that, by and large, nothing will hold you back for being “there” for your team.

However, with our supporters being stretched not only by the financial demands of everyday life – you know, those luxuries like mortgage or rent, food, etc. – but the demands of the early season European and domestic cup games, it appears that we may just have reached what scientists refer to as the “Tipping Point”.

Those of you who read Twitter will be aware that over the last few days a campaign called “Boycott Genk” has been launched by one of the many supporters groups that cover the interests of Chelsea fans. I’m not here to pick a hole in the argument for a boycott per se, but simply to put the point of view as to why this one action is unlikely to succeed and to outline an alternative that really might impact on Chelsea FC.

The numbers game part one – the people.

Chelsea FC have over 350,000 “followers” on Twitter. Whilst “Boycott Genk” will only have come to the attention of followers of said supporters’ group over the course of the weekend, at the time of writing the “Boycott Genk” account has 106 followers. So hardly a rush, then. A companion account is said to be operating on Facebook (I haven’t yet seen this).

To have any kind of success, they need to accrue many more followers. And not just followers in terms of their accounts. It needs to have a impact on the number of people who were going to attend the game, but now won’t directly as a result of this campaign, i.e. if you were never going to any of the group games, your support for the movement could quite reasonably be described as counterfeit.See also those who aren’t going to CL group games but are more than happy to let friends use their account for tickets and accrue the loyalty points themselves (don’t kid yourself this doesn’t happen).

The numbers game part two – the cold hard cash.

The reason for the boycott is the £10 per ticket rise in Champions League prices from £30 last season to £40 this season (plus obligatory £1.50 breathing charge). However, it is worth remembering that in Jose Mourinho’s last game against Rosenborg in 2007, West Lower tickets were priced at £48. So in real terms, the cost of the Genk game is still less than we were paying four years ago. It is of course remembering that since that time we have been through the worst recession since WW2.

Whilst economic difficulties were cited for the drop in CL group game prices, one wonders whether the club dropped prices too far in the beginning – an economist might certainly argue that they could not have seen that people’s standard of living would still be moribund, if not actually in decline, by 2011. The argument seems to be that we shouldn’t be asked to pay £40 to watch Genk. Remind me again how much people are paying for games in the Premier League against the likes of Norwich and Swansea?

The Media Involvement.

The involvement of media figures in the campaign, at least one of whom in my humble opinion seems to have no great love for Chelsea, concerns me. The Boycott Genk group need to be sure that they are not entering into a pact with the devil known as the Fourth Estate, sections of which seem to have the sole aim of further blackening the name of Chelsea FC with the general public. With the demise of the anti-Glazer “Green & Gold” campaign, they also need something new to get their teeth into.

The Radical Solution.

Boycotting Genk won’t work. It’s a cop-out. If people want to protest about ticket prices at Chelsea, then boycotting a non-event CL group game isn’t the answer. It requires a genuine sacrifice on our part. What I am about to propose will shock many people, but it would have the effect of letting the club know that fans are serious about price increases. I’m certainly not saying this would be the answer for members, but season-ticket holders are in a position to make a significant stand.

It’s worth remembering that however much your season ticket costs, it’s still cheaper (a game and a half, roughly) than buying on a match-by-match basis. My proposal is that on the day of the 12.45 kick off against Arsenal on 29th October, fans do not take their seats until 41 minutes and 50 seconds of the game have elapsed (get it?). This would have the effect of leaving the ground half empty in a major televised game; it would also show that fans are capable of making a real, genuine sacrifice in order to get their point across.

One of the anti-Genk boycott arguments is that the players need our support. I would argue that they need our support to raise their game far more in a match against mediocre opposition than they do against the likes of Arsenal. If you can’t gee yourself up for that as a player, you shouldn’t be playing for our club. People don’t have to miss the first half, they can stand on the concourse inside the ground, or lurk in a nearby hostelry. But the whole point is to absent ourselves.

Conclusion.

I don’t know how people feel about this suggestion; and at the moment it is only a suggestion. And please don’t think that I’m having a go at anyone involved in the Boycott Genk campaign. Their intention is admirable, I just don’t think it will solve anything simply because it’s an easy option.

What will cause the suits at Chelsea more grief? A half empty ground against Genk in midweek, or a ground empty for 41 and a half minutes in a massive game against Arsenal?  Embrace a cause to assist our fellow fans by all means, but make sure it’s the right solution.

And before you ask – I’m not boycotting Genk.

A day which was suppose to define our season, a day on which we were suppose to forget all the shambles of the previous months, a day which in the end turned out to be another ignominious European night as we failed to overcome a one goal deficit from the first leg at Stamford Bridge.

Javier Hernandez gave Manchester United the lead just before the end of the first half, and the joy of second half equaliser from Didier Drogba was soon turned into despair as Ji-Sung Park scored at the other end, a goal which ultimately proved to be the winner on the day.

Carlo Ancelotti shuffled his side around as Alex and Fernando Torres were drafted into the starting line-up, starting with a 4-3-3 formation with Nicolas Anelka and Florent Malouda forming part of the front three along with the Spaniard, as the pre-match debate regarding Drogba’s inclusion in the team created much confusion among everyone.

The game started well enough for the Blues, as they created chances despite their laboured build up.

Florent Malouda’s great run from the midfield created an early chance for Frank Lampard, but his side foot finish from the edge of the box didn’t manage to trouble Van der Sar.

Soon, Hernandez had the ball in the back of the net, but he was correctly ruled offside by the tinniest of the margins.

Just after that, Nicolas Anelka went close when Fernando Torres set him up, as his shot from outside of his foot just brushed past the post. He had a half chance later when the ball broke for him, but Van der Sar was quick off his line and stopped Anelka from taking advantage, a situation where in a first time shot would have been the best option.

After the initial spell of good possession, United came back in it as Chelsea couldn’t take advantage of their good spell.

Just as the half looked destined for goalless ending United struck through Hernandez. Some good work on the right hand side as between O’Shea and Giggs meant that the Welshman was free in space behind as Anelka went to sleep, and had all the space to deliver a dangerous ball which found its way to the far post for Hernandez, who was in the same position in which he had earlier judged offside, to poke it in.

The goal just before the break took the stuffing out of Chelsea and changes the whole mentality going into the break.

Carlo Ancelotti introduced Didier Drogba in place of Fernando Torres after the break, a decision which most probably was prompted by the goal conceded just before the break.

The decision didn’t have any immediate impact on Chelsea’a play, meaning that the task of overcoming this two goal deficit was increasing by the minute.

The task became almost impossible when Ramires was sent off with 20mins to go as he received a second yellow for a rather ugly, yet not dangerous, challenge from behind on Nani who exploited the situation to the fullest.

Didier Drogba, playing his 300^th game today, gave the travelling supporters, who had to endure the all the troubles on the M6 junction to get to the game, hope when he latched on to a Michael Essien’s pass before chesting it down to score.

As the Blues were hoping to build on this equaliser they were dealt a killer blow when Ji-Sung Park scored at the other end inside a minute. Once again, Ryan Giggs defied his age and created the goal, meaning he has been the creator of all the three United goals over the two legs.

This defeat means that our season is now over, at least in terms of silverware it is. It also raises fresh doubts over Carlo Ancelotti’s future at the club and about the whole squad in general as well with many players not having many years left on their contracts.

There will be rebuilding done over the course of the summer, which has been made abundantly clear over the past few months, but what direction the club will take is still unsure, nor is it known who will oversee this rebuilding.

Carlo Ancelotti after the game conceded that United were the better of the two, he said; “Our performance was not so bad but in the two games United deserved to win,”

“The game was in balance until the end. Also we played with 10 men.

“We came back into the game with 10 men but in the end it was not enough.

“I think we had good control of the game for the first 25 minutes of the first half (but) we were not able to score.

“We had some opportunities to score but the end of the first half when they scored made it more difficult for us.”

On Fernando Torres, he added; “We have to believe, to have the passion with him and wait (to see) if he’ll improve.”

Chelsea (4-3-3): Cech; Ivanovic, Alex (Ferreira 82), Terry (c), Cole; Ramires, Essien, Lampard; Malouda, Anelka (Kalou 61), Torres (Drogba 46).

Goals: Drogba 77min

Sent-off:  Ramires 70min

As expected, no team came out of the game and say that they were the head and shoulders ahead of the other. Chelsea started in a slow, sluggish manner and were hit hard when Wayne Rooney gave United the lead in the first half, founding it hard to get that elusive equaliser for the rest of the game.

Carlo Ancelotti earlier said in his press conference that he has decided on his preferred strike force, but considering how Didier Drogba and Fernando Torres combined during the game, he could have done with a little more thinking on that front.

As David Luiz was ineligible for this tie, Branislav Ivanovic came in at centre-back after being rested for the Stoke game.

Chelsea had made a reluctant start to the game, but got an early chance when Torres latched on to a Evra’s pass, but he just slipped while taking his shot and his shot went straight into Edwin van der Sar’s hand.

Next, Didier Drogba warmed van der Sar’s palms with a thunderous shot from the edge of the box, but the Man Utd keeper was able to push it over the bar to keep Chelsea at bay.

Even though Chelsea were dominating the possession now and had created the better of the chances, it was United who took the lead. Michael Carrick played a measured ball to the ever-green Ryan Giggs on the left wing and his first touch took out Bosingwa completely, leaving him with all the time in the world to pick out the unmarked Rooney in the box, who slotted in a first-time finish into the right-hand side bottom corner.

Chelsea’s best spell of possession came right at the end of first half. We again dominated the possession, but looked far more threatening and had more purpose about our play.

Fernando Torres was able to beat Rafael on the wings, and nice exchange of passes between him and Zhirkov created an opening for him, but he wasn’t able to time his shot properly. Then it was a series of chances, first Torres’s deft touch came of the after some nice work by Drogba on the left, and then Lampard’s, making his 500^th appearance, resulting shot from the ricochet was cleared off the line by Patrice Evra.

Chelsea went into half-time a goal down and despite dominating the possession for large parts of the game never looked in control of the match.

Manchester United were forced to make an early tactical change in the second half when they brought on Nani in place of the injured Rafael, as Valencia switched to the right back position.

Ramires had good chance to equalise when Drogba found him with his cross from the right, but his header was off-target, when he should have been able to at least hit the target.

With a breakthrough looking unlikely, Carlo Ancelotti brought on Nicolas Anelka and Florent Malouda to replace Yuri Zhirkov and Didier Drogba. The amusement on the face of Drogba after coming off told its own story.

Chelsea now switched to 4-3-3 with Malouda and Anelka taking positions on either side of Torres to complete the front three.

Chelsea now went all-out in search of the goal and it was Fernando Torres who came closest to score when his header needed fingertips of a fully-stretched van der Sar to pave it away. Frank Lampard and Ivanovic also came close; however van der Sar never looked under any trouble.

Just as the game looked destined for an uneventful finish the biggest talking point came when Spanish referee, Alberto Undiano Mallenco, didn’t give the penalty for a foul on Ramires by Evra in the dying moments of the game. The decision was even harder to digest because the extra official standing behind the goal had a clear view on it, but still didn’t award any penalty.

The result meant that Chelsea are left with a tricky task of overturning a first-leg defeat at home, which has only been achieved once in the past, recently by Inter Milan against Bayern Munich.

However, Carlo Ancelotti has to make some tough decisions to make before the next game. Both the strikers looked alright in patches, with Drogba shading ahead, but still they never seem to combine well and didn’t look a proper combination as a result.

His substitutions bewildered some of the fans as its hard to explain why Florent Malouda came on instead of Salomon Kalou, who has been in much better form than the Frenchmen, and also the fact that taking off Didier Drogba when he is having a decent game and looked the most threatening player on the pitch when we are in need of a goal doesn’t make any sense.

Also, John Obi Mikel would be pushing for a start after looking very composed when coming on and considering how vulnerable our defence is when playing the 4-4-2 formation; it makes sense to give him a chance.

The tie is not over, but its advantage United for now.

Carlo Ancelotti was disappointed with the result, but was contend with the overall performance of his players, after the game he said; “The performance was not bad. We had some moments where we weren’t able to have good control of the game with possession, in the middle of the first half, but in general the performance was good.”

“We had chances but it was difficult when we went 1-0 down to come back into the game. They used the counter-attack very well, but we had some chances. We hit the post and should have had a penalty and [Edwin] Van der Sar made a fantastic save from [Fernando] Torres.”

“We are disappointed but fortunately we still have 90 minutes at Old Trafford. It will not be easy, but last season at the same moment we needed to win there and we won the title. I have to believe. We believe we can win there.”

On the penalty incident, he added; “One. It was clear. It was the foul on Ramires. I didn’t see the other one, but that one was a clear penalty.”

Chelsea (4-4-2): Cech; Bosingwa (Mikel 78), Ivanovic, Terry (c), Cole; Ramires, Essien, Lampard, Zhirkov (Malouda 70); Torres, Drogba (Anelka 71).

Chels have been dining consistently at the top table of European football for nearly eight years now. Those hideously short, turn of the century, UEFA Cup campaigns are largely forgotten by all but the most masochistic of our fans.

And there are a couple of teams that we seem to keep bumping into on our travels. One of them is Porto. Therefore, when discussing European trips there with friends we tend to tag them “Porto 1”, “Porto 2” or “Porto 3”. Or indeed “my Porto” and “your Porto”.

One friend managed to get so uproariously drunk during the course of Porto 1 and Porto 2 that he missed the games on both occasions.

There was a hiatus of four years between my last foray into Europe with Chels, the unspeakably awful trip to Seville for the Real Betis game and the trip which is the subject of this piece. A lot had happened in those intervening years. I had moved to London permanently. I had had my heart broken by The Former Mr Baby.

It had been discovered that the arthritis uncovered following the cartilage damage sustained on the way home from Seville was so serious that it was going to impose certain lifestyle limitations, necessitating a move from the Harding Lower to the West Stand.

2009 had been a really bad year generally. Someone picked me up in a bear hug at the FA Cup Final and fractured one of my ribs. Friends and family kept getting ill, having accidents, or actually dying and poor Old Mother Baby thought she’d pulled a groin muscle which eventually turned out to be a fractured hip necessitating replacement, had a heart attack after the op and was in hospital for 6 weeks.

I had had no holiday and was determined to get away by the end of the year even if it was just for a couple of days. And when the group stage of the Champions League was drawn and we pulled out Porto, I made arrangements to go over for three nights courtesy of everyone’s favourite reliable travel provider (starts with an “Ex” and ends in “pedia”).

However, given that many friends had already sated themselves on Porto 1 and Porto 2, this was going to be a solo trip and in order to cut down on time off, I arranged to fly out on the Monday evening after work.

I arrived in Porto after ten pm on a misty night and found myself a cab into town. I spoke virtually no Portuguese. The cabbie spoke no English. So we ended up having a nice chat in French (and I was glad to be reunited with the word “brouillard” to describe the weather). He dropped me off at the hotel, I negotiated my way through check-in and was glad to get to bed.

The great thing about turning up a couple of nights before a European game is a chance to have a good look around the city you’re staying in.

Next morning after a decent breakfast I set off to explore via the City Sightseeing tour. Jolly cold on the top deck – it was November, after all – but it looked like a really nice place and the tour took us out as far as Boavista, an aptly named place, when the sun shines. It also took in the port lodges on the way back into town and I resolved to visit one the next day.

After a quiet afternoon at the cathedral, and a delicious dinner at one of the recommended restaurants, I had an early night. I don’t think my liver’s ever had it so good on a European trip.

The next morning I woke to see rain teeming from the skies, and the trip on the tour bus round to the port lodges wasn’t quite so pleasant. I decided to go to Croft’s which was a bit further up the hill, but had the merit of not charging for admission.

By the time I’d walked up there in the rain I felt distinctly chilly and was delighted to be welcomed with a glass of white port and a roaring fire. The tour was a fascinating experience – I was mesmerised by one huge barrel which stored the equivalent of 146,000 bottles. Freezing cold in there, though. Must have been the chalk walls.

On the way back down the hill I met a group of fellow fans looking lost in their search for Crofts, so at least I was able to point them in the right direction. And still the rain teemed down. There was only one thing for it. A pre-match visit to the shops in Santa Caterina. There are two things I really want to do when Porto 4 comes along. Firstly go to Sandemans (the lodge with the famous label of the mysterious caped man), and secondly take a suitcase so I can lug a load of bargains back with me.

I had an omelette with some very strange, albeit potato-y, chips in a café next to the hotel before setting out to the Estadio Dragao. It was one of the quickest trips ever to a game by metro, fast and efficient. So fast that I got there at 7pm, with at least an hour to kill before it was time to go into the ground for an 8.45pm kick off. So I thought I’d have a walk around. And my eyes met the most beautiful sight.

Now, I’ve always been quite proud of the Fulham Broadway shopping complex. Some grounds offer you Victorian mansions and heavily residential areas. Some grounds offer you areas where if you see a cat with a tail, it’s a tourist. Some grounds offer you… Tottenham High Road. However, Estadio Dragao offers you the entirely appropriately named Dolce Vita Shopping Centre.

All right, it might not necessarily appeal to the entire fanbase, but if you’ve got an hour to kill before kick-off, bliss. Shops, restaurants, coffee bars – and by the way, even though everyone claims that Italians make the best coffee, I would dispute this. Portuguese coffee is the best. So I had a lovely meander until it was time to go to the game.

Once there, I saw many of the usual suspects from European games, and although we hadn’t sold all our tickets, we managed to get a few decent songs going. And then, early in the second half, something happened which was the stuff of legends being born…

I was standing at the front near the corner flag (hoping that a camera might spot me so Old Mother Baby could see me), and a faint cloud of what the broadcaster and Chelsea fan, Andy Jacobs, describes as “jazz fags” drifted through the still night air – happily it had stopped raining by this time. And I could hear a refrain of a song that I couldn’t quite identify. And although it was being sung gently, it grew louder and louder.

“Don’t worry. About a thing. Cos every little thing’s. Gonna be alright…”

And it got taken up by the whole Chelsea contingent. Someone had obviously added bits to it, between the lines people started singing “doo doo doo/doo doo doo” and clapping to it. The Porto stewards were laughing their heads off and I saw a riot policeman trying not to smile. And we must have kept it up for about 15 minutes.

Although Sulky Nic scored after 69 minutes, the match was a bit of a non-event with both sides having qualified for the next round, although the victory ensured we’d top the group, for all the good that ever does. Deco seemed intent on not upsetting the home crowd and barely got out of neutral.

A reasonable detention period of about 20 minutes followed the game, and after we were allowed to leave, choruses of “Don’t Worry” continued not only to the metro station, but on the train as well.

I got invited to a pub, but I had to be up at 6am for a 9am flight, so I went back to the hotel and was so tired I left the packing (i.e. throwing everything into the case) till the next morning and sank into a deep sleep, waking with a start when the alarm went off.

Shame that it was still so dark that I couldn’t see out the window on the way to the airport by metro. I checked in (put my case in the hold this time to accommodate a bottle of pink port I’d bought at Croft) and was inevitably disappointed by the duty free shop. Got a decent seat on the plane and was looking out the window when a ragged cheer broke out – Pat Nevin was boarding the flight, having been in Porto commentating on the game for Five Live.

I was lucky enough to have a chat with him in baggage reclaim back at Gatwick – friendly, obliging chap that he is. He said on previous Porto trips he’d gone running in the hills above the port lodges but the weather was way too bad to do it this time!

I think European trips are quite heavily influenced by the numbers in which you travel. I’d been on my own for most of the time but I saw a great deal more of the city I was visiting than I’d managed on several other trips.

Also I was entirely sober, not having spent time in licensed premises.

But like several others, I look forward to Porto 4 immensely.