Why are people like myself moved to write about people like John? Simple really: as a match-going fan you get to see what the man is like on the pitch. What he brings to Chelsea Football Club is almost immeasurable. Almost. If he were to leave the club, it would be a tragedy beyond anything that’s happened to Chelsea in recent years. He is, quite simply, one of the greatest players ever to pull on a Chelsea shirt.

But he’s not leaving. All the talk in the papers and amongst the chattering classes of the internet forums – the very place many papers seem to get their news these days – is that JT is doing this for the money. Smoke and mirrors.

Ask yourself, even if you’re a City fan: why would he leave for City? What do they have to offer at the moment, beyond a mythical project being marshalled by a manager who won’t be there the season after next? No Champions league, the very things professional players at this level strive to compete in. New players to support the project? Well, one Samuel Eto’o, who according to someone who was ‘in the know’ on one of the Man City message boards was an 80% done deal, is not going to Manchester. A man who did a superb impression of a seven year old when told that Man City were interested in taking him to Costa del Eastlands by sticking his fingers in his ears and going ‘la la la la la’ until someone mouthed the right words in his face. Those words being either, more money, Man Utd, or Real Madrid, depending on which way el viento was blowing on that particular day.

No, this isn’t about money for JT. It’s about reassurances over the direction of the club. Further, it always has been. It’s been reported many times, but ignored by so many with an agenda. What’s really disconcerting about this is that fans feel they have the right to voice their opinion about the problems at Chelsea Football Club, but when a player does it, with remarkable efficiency they slip into righteous indignation mode and blame the player for holding the club to ransom; quite literally a king’s ransom it would seem to many. These people, ironically, are the same people who with alarming regularity, call into question the competence of those in charge at the club. Short-sighted in my opinion.

For all that John Terry has done for this club, I’ve heard some pretty disgusting allegations levelled at him recently, and yet fans really dislike being called fickle. By far the worst, though, is the label of coward. Quite extraordinary accusation in my opinion, and one that doesn’t quite ring true by any stretch of my imagination. A man who’s laid his professional career on the line for Chelsea, and been criticised for doing so, is so cowardly that he couldn’t walk into the offices on his return from holidays with a transfer request in his hand? No, doesn’t hold any water for me at all.

As for the fact that he hasn’t come out and told everyone, all over again, that he’s staying at Chelsea, perhaps people might want to consider that the new manager has decided that maybe he doesn’t want his players running to the press every time they beckon. I hope so, it would be a nice change, and fits well with what people were saying about Carlo Ancelotti before he joined the club; that he’s a strong man with excellent man management skills.

So, the Man City fans can carry on dreaming for all they want, and the Chelsea fans who want him out can carry on gnashing their teeth and re-writing their agendas on the backs of fag packets, but they all going to be disappointed.

John Terry simply wants the same reassurance about the future of the club as the rest of us, and as a senior player at the club who’s coming up to the most important period of his career, he has every right to seek those assurances.

John Terry isn’t leaving Chelsea, he is Chelsea.

What do you think the newspapers will make of United’s dominance this season? That one’s easy to work out, they’ve written most of the headlines already, so many in fact that they’re surely in danger of running out of superlatives before the season’s over in May.

What do you think the statistics will show? What will be the true outcome – the bottom line if you will – if we win nothing? I’ll tell you. It’s this: Chelsea made a massive cock-up of the best opportunity to break the red dominance of domestic football in this country of any team for the last 20 years. It will also show that Chelsea were lucky to win two league titles because United were then in a period of rebuilding and transition, much like Arsenal are reaching the end of now. The statistics will show that the much-feted Jose Mourinho just happened to be in the right place at the right time. Before you don your armour and go into full keyboard warrior mode, consider this: stats are all that people care about. In ten years time, people will talk only about the stats. That’s the way it is.

Having watched Claudio Ranieri spend vast amounts money and build one of the best football squads I’ve ever had the pleasure to see in football supporting life, never mind at Chelsea, and then see Jose Mourinho inherit that squad and add the polish required to make the final touches to make a winning team, we’ve since had to endure almost constant speculation about who’s running the damn team. More to the point, it was a team that was good for six or seven years because it was young and incredibly gifted. It’s also my opinion that we wouldn’t have to enter the realms of fantasy football to imagine that team winning not two, but four titles in recent years.

It hasn’t worked out like that though, has it Roman? I blame you for this. Chelsea has contrived, once again, to snatch defeat from the jaws of a glorious victory, something many of us have seen often over the years. Frankly, I couldn’t care less who’s manager of Chelsea, but what does bother me is not seeing a manager get a fair crack of the whip, as it were. Had you left Ranieri in charge, I’ve no doubt he would have won the league at some point. Had you left Mourinho in charge, I’ve no doubt the Holy Grail of the quadruple may well have been within his grasp. But no, since Ranieri we’re now into the fourth manager – five if you count Ray Wilkins’s single match tenure. Bit rubbish really, don’t you think?

Here’s the problem: that expensively assembled squad, the one you quite rightly refused to bolster recently; it’s peaked. Some of the players in that team peaked two seasons ago, some are at their peak right now. Yet once more you have a short-term manager in place. Here’s a thought for you: I well remember the speculation surrounding your personal first choice as Chelsea manager. It was Guus Hiddink, wasn’t it? Assuming that is the case, what do you suppose would have happened had you gone with your gut instinct and stuck with it? Quite, we’d need a bigger trophy cabinet wouldn’t we?. Hiddink’s already starting to show that he’s capable of managing the players at Chelsea, no small feat in itself if newspaper speculation is to be believed, and he’s also showing the world that he has the tactical nous required at this level. Granted there are bigger tests to come for Hiddink, but right at this moment I can’t think of a better man to be at the helm. Can you? Trouble is, Hiddink’s a good few years older now and not getting any younger. Perhaps, like some of the team he’s now so ably managing, he’s peaked. Regardless, he’s made a point of reiterating the fact that he’s here until the end of the season. That barely even warrants being labelled as short-term.

So what happens now? Well, I reckon there’s another season in this squad, but surely now is the time to start rebuilding and thinking of the long-term future of Chelsea’s success? For that, you’re going to have to think about giving someone a chance to at least try and realise their vision – and hopefully yours, you know the one we were told about so soon after you took over – but to do that you’re going to have to demonstrate more patience. Perhaps even stop listening to those around you who know nothing about football and go with your gut instinct. Probably both, actually.

Whoever you decide to put in place as the next Chelsea manager, please give him a chance to build some momentum. It’s key, the statistics prove it.

KTBFFH

I can only remember leaving three, maybe four games early since I started going to football over forty years ago. The first time wasn’t even a Chelsea game, it was Basingstoke vs Northampton Town in the 1971-72 season. Memorable because it was the first time my home town team had reached the 1st round proper of the FA Cup, and a then record 3400 people had turned out to witness the event, which turned out to be a 5-1 thrashing for the home side. More memorable for the fact that I went home at half-time. Not because the football was rubbish, but because it was so bloody cold your correspondent, then 11 years old, was frozen to the core and wanted to go home.

So, to present day, and this season alone I’ve left the ground early twice. Against Roma I left because I was so angry at the way Roma played. They came to us with no intention of doing anything other than frustrating, and that they achieved in spades. So much so that I fully expected to see an article in the Daily Telegraph the next day on anti-football, seeing as it’s an expression they’ve used on more than one occasion to describe the football Chelsea has played in recent years. Actually, I lie, I didn’t expect to see anything at all from the Telegraph. Like the Times’ anti-diving campaign, which famously featured only Chelsea players, all talk of anti-football has disappeared now they don’t have a high-flying Chelsea to play the Tall Poppy games with.

Today, against Hull, I left on the 86th minute. A thing I constantly moan about other people doing. Yet as I turned to leave and excused my rudeness to the bloke next to me, he simply said, “I’ve seen enough too, don’t blame you mate”, and off I wandered.

Well, I’m not one for calling for the heads of senior figures at Chelsea; I’m all for stability, which is ironic seeing as it’s the very thing that’s eluded this club in all the years I’ve been following it. Mark Worral in a recent interview for Match of the Day 2 remarked that some might say we’ve got our old Chelsea back. I reckon so.

But I’ve had enough now I think. Certainly I’ve had enough of Scolari, and his oh-so-nice approach. I wasn’t than keen on Scolari taking over at Chelsea, but what I was looking forward to was seeing a man with a reputation for telling it like it is when the need arises, but what I’ve seen so far leads me to believe that what we’ve got is a bloke who’s content in the knowledge that he’s got the credit crunch-busting pension to end all pensions. Fine and dandy of course, but I’d rather he wasn’t doing it off the back of the match-going punters standing (or not) out in the freezing cold to watch the utter bilge currently being served up at Stamford Bridge. Phil, stop sending Ray Wilkins out to face the cameras, he’s getting more grief from the punters than he deserves. He’s a bloody Chelsea hero who captained a freshly relegated side to promotion and played at times for no wages. Show some respect, and get out in front of the cameras and admit that you’ve cocked this one up quite royally. Admit that you took on a job without researching it properly, and admit that with the players at your disposal you’ll be lucky to win a cuddly toy at the fair. Just stop being nice, that would be a start. It doesn’t work. Ask Claudio Ranieri, he’ll be over here soon.

The other person I’d like to come out and speak, in the absence of Roman Abramovich every actually talking to the fans in any official capacity, is Peter Kenyon. However, what I’d like to hear is less of the snake-oil and more of the stuff that the fans are interested in, not just what you think they want to hear with more of your condescending twaddle.

We want to know what’s happened to the legacy that Roman wants to build. As thankful as many of us are for the way things have gone on the pitch over the last few years, what’s gone on off the pitch looks like a bloody shambles, frankly.

We want to know that if there’s a long-term plan to make Chelsea the biggest club in the world, why didn’t you give the funds to Scolari to build a team in his own image? If Scolari isn’t the right man for job, which could easily be construed from such a short contract and lack of said funds, why the hell is it taking you so long to find the right man?

I personally would love to know why you’ve allowed successive managers to tear down the good work Claudio Ranieri did in building a team of youngsters that were primed to help build Roman’s dream. And I’m not talking about just the players who have aged since you sacked Claudio, I’m talking about the fact that you’ve allowed successive coaches to actually bring in, with few exceptions, even older players! Seriously, what is that all about?

So, for me, Phil has to go. I’d rather it was sooner, assuming someone at Chelsea has been doing their job and they’ve found the successor. I don’t believe in giving people a season, or a week, if it’s clear that they’re not up to the job. He’s got a squad of players who earlier in the season had the media in raptures over the game against Villa, a squad of players who are well versed in playing excellent football, but it’s turned into a travesty.

I’ve watched this squad soak up far more pressure in the past than it did against Liverpool recently, and still show the patience to wait and batter a team on the counter. That’s the way the team was set up, so why get a coach in who simply can’t play football that way? Doesn’t make an ounce of sense to me at all.

So, if he’s staying, he should have been given the funds to build something in his own image. If he’s not, then get shot of him now. It doesn’t make any sense to prolong this nonsense for him, for the club, or for the fans who stand out in the freezing cold doing their level best to get behind a team that looks for all the world like it’s never had a sniff of a trophy, much less won a hat-full in the last few seasons. But if I were you, Peter, I’d keep Phil away from Claudio when he pitches up at the Bridge, because he might just have some sage advice for him. Nice guys win nothing at Chelsea.

In my deep and considerably murky past there is a memory, one of the few yet to be erased by gallons of draught cider and (probably) millions of hand-rolled cigarettes. In this somewhat cloudy memory, I am being lifted bodily above rows of men shouting at a football pitch with the occasional “go on son, get down the front there”. This was indeed me, as a child, having been taken to my first football match at Stamford Bridge by my father. It would have been something like thirty-five years ago now, maybe more, and I’m known for not having the best of memories so there’ll be no waxing lyrical about the score or, indeed, the players of the day. But I do remember a couple of things about that day: how green the pitch was, and how much I wanted to go back there as soon as possible. It wasn’t even the football; I can’t remember a single thing about the football I watched as a child of eight or nine, I just wanted to be there – to hear that noise and feel the emotions of what was, back in those days, probably a crowd of something considerably more than the thirtyodd thousand that we get now.

I really miss that sort of atmosphere at football. Anyone who went to matches way back then will tell you it’s not the same these days, simply because it can’t be. Gone are the terrifying but ultimately exhilarating moments when we score and you are swept forward down the terrace, and gone is the sheer number of people who used to attend matches back then, all in the name of safety.

I’m pleased to say that some things don’t change: the camaraderie is still there, like the nods and smiles on the tube and the playful banter with folks who’d rather be going to the match but end up going shopping with their families. And then there are the odd looks from the few who still associate football fans with mindless thuggery. All of this goes to make up the experience of going to a football match on a Saturday afternoon.

Thus it was this weekend, when I took my father back to Stamford Bridge for the first time in more years then he can remember. It is him I have to thank for my love of all things Chelsea Football Club, he who is to blame for what occasionally borders on obsession (according to family and friends). And I do thank him, because there is something special about Chelsea fans. We’ve lived through the worst times in support of our club: through debt, despair, despondency and relegation we’ve stuck by the club, and although my old man, in his dotage, is not an avid supporter of the club as I am, he follows Chelsea when he can and loves to chat about them. So I asked him a few months ago if he fancied going back. He chose to watch us play Newcastle, and I honestly don’t think he could have picked a better game. By modern day standards, the atmosphere was awesome: the ground was filled more than at any other time this season, and we stuffed the Geordies in a display of football excellence both on the pitch and from the touchline. We had beer, we had dodgy burgers and we had the crack. And here’s the lyrical part: there was a young lad sat in front of my father. He noticed my dad was on sticks, but every time we got close to goal and the rest of us were jumping up and down, this lad moved to one side so my dad could see what was going on. My father never missed a single goal from his sitting position. So, tell me, does it get any better than that? Maybe it does.

There has been a sea change of late at Chelsea Football Club. Whatever people may say about how much money we’ve spent to buy the title – the very title we haven’t won yet, but the same title the red tops are confidently predicting we must win – there is not enough money in the world to buy what I saw on Saturday. I saw a Chelsea team with more team spirit than I can remember, I saw a team with considerably more patience and determination than I can remember, and after many, many years I have a feeling of confidence that we will win something, and damn soon too. It’s been two seasons since I went to Stamford Bridge and watched us lose, and such is the level of my confidence at the moment, I feel if they continue in the same vein it could be a while before I see it happen again. But the best part of Saturday for me was to be once again touched by the camaraderie and atmosphere that got me hooked in the first place.

I don’t actually even remember if that game in my distant memory was the first match my father took me to, but it doesn’t matter. The affair started then and continues now, long after many women and several billion brain cells have since passed. I would dearly love to pass on my love of Chelsea Football Club to my son, but sadly I must have gone wrong somewhere, as he supports Arsenal. I don’t hold it against him, though: I intend, with some help from my brother-in-law, to employ some Rob Hobson style tactics and use the two-pronged responsible parenting approach of ritual humiliation and taunting. Come the summer, however, I have a feeling that there may be three generations of the Fendle dynasty at Stamford Bridge one day, watching Chelsea, drinking beer, eating revolting burgers and having the crack. I do hope so. Wish me luck. Better still, take someone you care about to a match, and do it soon. It makes the whole experience all the more worthwhile. Carefree!

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As a child, like thousands of others, I was struck by what I thought was the pure genius of Peter Osgood, Charlie Cooke and Alan Hudson, but when it came down to it the players who really counted the most for me were the ones who were there all the time, week in, week out, doing their jobs. They were the players I really envied, and still do, because they’re doing what they love, and they get paid for it. So, of that great era, we had the sparkling, though ultimately flawed, genius of players like Hudson, but it was players like Ron Harris, Peter Bonetti and John Hollins I admired most of all. They were, in modern parlance, the spine of a great Chelsea side, but occasionally offered moments of sheer joy that reminded me why I loved football quite so much.

Forty-odd years later little has changed. Players come and go, some we like and some we’re indifferent over. But still, every now and then a player catches the eye and they quickly become a favourite. Occasionally so much so that they can virtually do no wrong. But isn’t that the point of football? It’s not really about being objective is it? It’s not about telling your West Ham supporting mate that although Joe Cole can be a bit wasteful on the ball at times, you still love him to bits. It’s about telling the West Ham fan that he’s your Joe Cole and you haven’t the faintest clue what he’s talking about when he tries to tell you he’s got no end product. It’s fine to argue that particular toss with mates over a pre-match pint in the Butchers Hook, but woe betide any oppo fan who thinks it might be clever to poke his oar in and offer an objective opinion. Being partisan is what supporting a football team is all about.

What makes many of us more partisan than others is simple: a player catches our eye, and for some it’s love at first sight. From that moment on, the bloke could be standing at the bar with his hand up your bird’s skirt, just so long as he pulls on the colours at the weekend and does his best, regardless of whether or not he happens to be the best in the world in his chosen position, he can pretty much get away with murder. One such player is John Terry, and I won’t have a bad word said about him.

When I think of this Chelsea, I think of John Terry. I watch him and I can see what he learned from the great Marcel Desailly, and his complete and utter absence of fear of an opponent on a football field is there for all to see. Not only is one of the hardest men I’ve ever seen in English football, but he’s also one of the most natural leaders I’ve ever had the pleasure to witness in a Chelsea shirt. He is Mr Chelsea, and long may he be so. But there’s a problem.

In recent weeks I’ve noticed a subtle shift in all things JT. With World Cup qualifiers to the fore at the moment it’s become even more noticeable. For England duties, notwithstanding John’s absence through injury, we’ve seen more of Rio Ferdinand. Don’t get me wrong, I think Rio’s doing a great job. But he’s not the England captain, our JT is. For Chelsea duties in front of the media we’ve seen more of Frank lately. Again, notwithstanding Frank’s amazing return to his very best form, he’s not the Chelsea captain. Our JT is, and I really don’t want that to change. John Terry offers much more in a football pitch than outstanding qualities as a centre half, much more. He is the Chelsea backbone, a key part of the spine of this great side. But I’m worried.

I remember watching JT under Claudio and such was his commitment to the cause that it often bordered on the reckless. Whilst we’d all admire his sublimely consistent performances on the pitch, there were rumblings over post-match pints that if he carried on the way he did at times, he’d be lucky to still be playing when he hit 30. I think that now even more than I ever have, and it really worries me. I know there are players who are more gifted than JT. I know there are faster, more athletic players, but to not be able to see beyond that is missing the point completely. John Terry’s contribution to Chelsea Football Club should never be underestimated because the sum of the parts is far greater than I want to think about. John Terry is 27 and in my view is now in serious danger of wrecking the rest of his career.

So, John, should you happen to stumble across this jumble of some old duffer’s ramblings, I’d like to offer just a little advice: take a rest. Take a step back and look at the bigger picture and please, please sort your back out. You’ve potentially another six to eight years of top level football in you, but not if you don’t take the time out to heal some of the damage you’ve done since your debut ten years ago this very month. Chelsea will still be here, the fans – Chelsea or otherwise – will still be here in their thousands, but if you’re not it’ll be a much poorer place for it.

As people who are older and wiser than I have said in the past: they’re funny things, backs, and I should know. Twenty-one years ago, when I was 27, I damaged my back in a sporting accident and it’s never been right since. You have the benefit of the finest medical attention known to man. Take advantage of it and get well. Chelsea Football Club needs John Terry, but I suspect part of the problem is that John Terry needs Chelsea Football Club a lot more than people realise.

KTBFFH

Spectators have already been snapping up tickets for the visit of Chelsea Old Boys to Love Lane on April 20, when a team made up of former professionals from the Premier League club will take on a Petersfield Town side.

But the excitement generated by the biggest football match in the town for over 15 years is set to grow even further after it was revealed who is likely to be pulling on a Chelsea shirt on the day.

Ray Wilkins (84 caps), Graeme Le Saux (36 caps), Kerry Dixon (eight caps) and Dave Beasant (2 caps) have all played for England in their careers and they are just some of the stars set to grace the Love Lane turf.

Ray Wilkins became Chelsea’s youngest ever captain at the age of 18, playing over 200 games for the Stamford Bridge club before his career took him to Manchester United and AC Milan.

Kerry Dixon is Chelsea’s second highest goalscorer ever with 194 goals in over 400 games for the Blues. He also scored four goals in eight appearances for his country.

Graeme Le Saux played around 350 games in two spells at Chelsea before finishing his career at Southampton, where he made nearly 50 appearances.

Goalkeeper Dave Beasant needs no introduction to football fans on the south coast, after enjoying spells at both Pompey and Saints.

He played over 150 games for Chelsea but is probably remembered most for his penalty save and then lifting the FA Cup in the 1988 final against Liverpool.

The list of Chelsea legends doesn’t stop there though, with a whole host of famous faces from the 1970s and 80s expected.

Ian Britton played in nearly 300 games for Chelsea from 1971-82; John Bumstead made nearly 450 appearances from midfield in 1976-91; Clive Walker played over 250 times for the Blues and over 1,000 games in his overall career; and Dave Lee appeared over 200 times, having a short loan spell at Pompey as well.

Further treats for local football followers will include appearances by Garry Stanley (ex-Pompey), Gareth Hall (played for Havant and Waterlooville in 2001) and Ken Monkou (who played over 200 games for Southampton during the 1990s).

The Chelsea squad is completed by the following players: Steve Finnieston, Graham Wilkins, Paul Canoville, Keith Dublin, Gary Chivers, Trevor Aylott and Clive Wilson.

A spokesman for Petersfield Town FC said: “It is staggering to think ome true football legends will be playing at Petersfield.

“Everyone at the club and around the town and surrounding areas was already starting to get very excited about this game but now that we have been able to announce the players who will be playing on the day, we now expect to see an even bigger rush for tickets.

“This is an excellent opportunity for young and old supporters alike to get close to these famous footballers in what is a small, compact ground – unlike in their playing days when these players were appearing in vast arenas in comparison.

“With the announcement of the Chelsea players likely to play we are all looking forward to an amazing day.”

The Chelsea squad announced today is a provisional one and it is possible that some of the players due to play at Love Lane may change.

The game against Chelsea kicks-off at 2pm but a day of family entertainment will get under way when the gates open at Love Lane at 11.30am.

Tickets are on sale now from: Petersfield Post, Petersfield Herald, The Square Brewery and Folly Wine Bar in Petersfield town centre.

They are also on sale at The News offices in Havant and Commercial Road, Portsmouth and also at The News Centre, Hilsea.

Tickets are priced £7.50 for adults and £3 for children under-16 or OAPs over 60. You can pay by cheque at any of these venues – make cheques payable to: Petersfield Town Football Club.

You can also send off for tickets in the post – include a cheque for the correct amount, a letter explaining which tickets you would like to purchase and a SAE and send them to: Petersfield v Chelsea tickets, 56 Dore Avenue, Portchester, Hants, PO16 8BX.

Any disabled supporters requiring wheelchair access on the day are asked to call 08700 414243 or e-mail: petersfieldvchelsea@hotmail.co.uk as soon as possible.

There were were tied with our most effective player in Joe Cole almost out on his feet, and our most enigmatic player, Didier Drogba, already at fault for one goal, looking for all the world like he’d had a gutful of of trying to hold up play with his back to the goal, whilst waiting for the support that never came to reward his graft. The crowd around me made their feelings clear about Didier’s contribution this evening, though it wasn’t until Spurs’ final equaliser arrived that they started on Grant. I was left, not for the first time, wondering if I was at a different match to many of the people who’d made the trip to this armpit of a place in North London.

By my reckoning it’s some 30 years since I’ve been to White Hart Lane and, for my first ever away game as a small child, a good few years before that. Reading the programme on the Tube reminded me that game, on my birthday no less, was also a draw. Same old Chelsea, eh? I guess it’s my fault for making the trip to what has become know with some affection amongst the Chelsea faithful as ‘Three Point Lane’. My lasting impressions of the Lane, however, have not changed on bit. It’s a dump, in the middle of a dump, with no pubs. If I live that long, I’ll be happy if it’s another 30 years before I return.

Probably better that I stay away, given the result and the fact that just I texted Harry, who was running late, to let him know that normal service had been resumed just a few minutes into the game. The travelling Chelsea felt sure that things had returned to something resembling normality after the Spuds humbled us in the League Cup recently, but then they could never have know what was about to unfold before our eyes.

In some ways it really doesn’t matter what happened between Chelsea’s opening gambit and Spurs’ final equaliser just before the final whistle. At times both teams were excellent, at others hapless, misguided and lacking direction. But in that final moment, the Chelsea faithful who up until that point had been excellent in their support of the Blues, were silenced. It was as if, collectively, nobody had a clue what happened. Thinking about it now, I still don’t. In that moment, when a reasonable shot at the title started to slip away like the crowds into the night, I’m left with the pain of the Tottenham fans’ voices ringing in my ears.

“Three-one, and you f***ed it up.”

That hurts, it really hurts, but it’s hard to argue with.

KTBFFH

We’d also like to welcome all the Newcastle supporters to the site, because no doubt given your new found riches, you’ll be registering on the site and giving it large. Please form an orderly queue, and take the cries of ‘Where were you when you were sh*t’ firmly on the chin, because you know you deserve it.

I note with some interest in today’s papers that Kev will receive a blank cheque for transfers and has been told that only his imagination should limit his rebuilding plans at Newcastle United. On that basis, we at CFCnet look forward to reading match reports and player ratings for the March Hare, his compatriot at left back, the Dormouse and probably Eric Cantona as captain. We’re not sure what it’s going to do to our Fantasy League ratings, though.

Just a word of warning, Kev: you know how high the expectations are up there, so assuming you haven’t delivered the Moon on a Stick by this time next season, which you won’t, I’d think now about your exit strategy. I thought Chelsea fans were fickle, that was until I had to listen to the daily outpouring of bilge on the nations sports radio phone-ins.

Be careful out there, and you Newcastle fans, be careful what you wish for. What’s that? Oh, too late.

Our source, who can’t be named at this stage, has informed us that the club have now set up a Direct Debit, thus expediting the process of transferring money from one of the richest clubs in the world direct to the coffers of one of the most inept organisations in the world, the FA.

“We thought it would save a lot of time and trouble,” he said. “At least now they can process the funds a lot faster, thus speeding up the financing of grass roots football in England. Chelsea Football Club is very proud of the its ongoing work to support the smaller fish in what is clearly a very big pond,” he continued. Finally adding, “We did offer to send them a whole set of new blazers, which seemed only fair given our relationship with Armani, but they declined saying that although theirs were getting a little tatty they’d be fine for another 20 years or so.”

At the time of writing our source was, however, unable to confirm just how many TeamCard points Peter Kenyon had amassed thus far by paying all the fines on his Chelsea credit card.

We at CFCnet look forward to the next episode of the ongoing soap opera that is the FA disiplinary committee.

As if that weren’t bad enough in itself, I note with some interest that The Sun, Britain’s favourite newspaper, is leading the charge for Jose to be appointed for what is clearly one of the most thankless tasks in international football. It even went as far as projecting a massive image of Jose on to the Soho Square building, just in case the blue-blazered old duffers at the FA needed a clue.

Personally, I find it amazing that even The Sun has the temerity to go to such extremes in backing a manager whose previous team turned in, by their own words, performances that were described as turgid. Sometimes you just couldn’t make it up. Have these people no shame at all? Of course they don’t, otherwise they’d be embarrassed by what is a clear hatred of all things Chelsea throughout the Fourth Estate.

However, what I find most intriguing is the clear stupidity of the hundreds of football fans queuing up to back Jose Mourinho on any one of the radio phone-ins we tune in to every day. Are these the same people who complained constantly about the style of football played by Chelsea? The very same people who claim that actually it does matter how you win, not just that you do? Of course it is, there are enough of them on this site who moaned about the way Chelsea played under Jose. They’re still doing it now.

I can see it now. Three games into Jose’s tenure and England have won all three games, or maybe drawn one along the way. People won’t be happy, and The Sun won’t be happy, because although England will be getting the results they think they deserve – all off the back of a World Cup win in 1966 of course – they won’t be doing it in the style that people really want to see. Fundamentally there’s a point being missed here: what the hell is wrong with the England international team’s defence? Nothing that I can see, nothing at all in fact. The one thing the England team is not short of is decent defenders, and it hasn’t been for a very long time. So, just so I’m clear on this: The Sun says that over half the football supporters in this country want Jose as the new England manager? Why? Oh wait, I know, because he’s a winner.

History repeats itself, we know this. The CFCnet forums are a living testimony to the fact that although people like to see a winning team, they don’t like to see a team winning without having the fans reaching for the man-size tissues when they make a mess after Frank Lampard spanks one in from 30 yards. They don’t like close games either. What they want is to see teams batter opposition by a handful of goals to nil. Under Jose, England will never do that. Not ever. It’s completely and utterly not the Mourinho way. The fans will enjoy the wins for a while, then the “I wish we played a bit more like Brazil/Italy/France” comments will start to appear on internet forums and blogs, and The Sun will be playing its part in all this; the campaigns for entertaining football will be across the back pages, with the same 66% of people backing the campaign who voted lemming-like for Jose in the first place.

My advice to the FA is simple: take a few hours to look around CFCnet and you’ll realise what a mistake signing Jose Mourinho would be. You have been warned.