There’s a smugness we’re wearing on our sleeves today, a certain confidence that cannot be pinpointed.
It’s been quite some time since Blues fans like us had real reason to behave in such a manner, but we’re holding our chins up and chests out. We’ve got a swagger that cannot be denied. Why you ask? Because we’re back to our old ways!
For the first time in two plus years, we’ve got that ruthlessness back. We previously had the killer instinct instilled in us by ‘The Special One`, who brought a mechanical efficiency from a tactical perspective to the squad. It wasn’t pretty, and certainly wasn’t fun to watch, but we were winning at an impressive clip. He was in many respects a demi-god- revered figure with a habit of biting at opponents through the press and getting under everyone’s skin. It was precisely the medicine we Chelsea fans were craving, and he spoon-fed it to us every night before bed.
But as his final season wore down, cracks in the armour began to appear. Jose started whinging instead of winning, his inability to get along with Roman and Kenyon began to show more visibly, and while players backed him implicitly, there were rumblings that certain superstars were tiring of his methods. The writing was on the wall and we all dreaded the impending hammer crashing down. I’d prefer not to dive too deeply into the Avram saga, as I genuinely feel he did a stunning job of bringing us to the brink of success of two fronts.
The point, my friends, is that we as fans lost our invincibility. When Jose was winning games, we could talk the talk. We felt no fear taking it to the streets and professing our admiration and loyalty to the club. When he went out in a blaze of silent glory, we as fans lost our collective voice. While the players did their best to rally around Avram and pull through the season, we were here in body but not in soul. Many will argue with this notion, and I’m not saying this as an absolute, but by the numbers, we felt confused, betrayed, and scared. Scared that our beloved club was teetering on the brink of collapse! Rumours flew all season and summer that players were preparing to jet to all points of the continent, Jose was tapping-up a number of our first-team, and we hadn’t a clue what we were in store for.
Until Big Phil came into town.He’s like that uncle everyone has – the one that shows up every two to three years and gives everyone the right gifts. The one that tells crazy stories about the summer in ’72 when he and the missus went to Ibiza. He’s that loveable guy who lights up a room, and somehow blends the chaos into serenity. Make no mistake; Uncle Phil is all business when he wants to be. He’s shown that time and time again when dealing with the press and discussing formations/players. But he’s also a quasai-charming guy with a penchant for smiling through press conferences. All told, Uncle Phil has been a revelation to our reeling franchise.
We’re on the brink of another campaign, and everything is right for the moment. Players are getting along well, contracts are sorted, new arrivals are blending seamlessly, former fringe players are willing to fight for minutes, and there’s an overabundance of good news generating out of Cobham. What’s more, our main competitors are looking fragile at the moment, with injuries and illness knocking major players out of the frame. Suffering through the last three injury-riddled years, it`s pleasant to be on the other side of the frame for a change.
But we’re back to the old days, the days when we no longer were thrilled to earn an away draw, where we went about our business on the pitch with the type of executioner precision that very few teams can do on a consistent basis. A lot will be determined come this weekend and beyond, but for now, Uncle Phil has these lads in line, and looks poised to giving all of us something to be thrilled about. So chin up mates, because we’re back to the glory days from now on!
CAREFREE~!
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