Tag Archives: Chelsea In America

Tales From Babe Ruth’s House And Babe Ruth’s Home

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Chelsea vs. Milan : 24 July 2009.

So, here we go…let’s get my 2009-2010 season started. Like all my reports, this one is a very personalised account and I hope that any newcomers to the site understand my emphasis on “the background” stuff which goes on in my Chelsea life.

It clearly ain’t just about the football.

However, before my trip report – here are some numbers.

This would be my fourteenth trip to North America – on almost the twentieth anniversary of my first one in September 1989. It would be my fifth trip to the US to see Chelsea play – the games against Milan and Club America would be games eight and nine in The States. My other sport is baseball and so I decided to avoid the West Coast games in order to squeeze in two New York Yankees games. It would be my ninth trip in which I would be seeing the Yankees play. It would be the third visit in which I would be seeing Chelsea AND the Yanks play on the same trip ( how lucky I have been…) and it would encompass my eighth trip to New York. I would be seeing the Yankees for the 24th and 25th time in New York. It would be my fourth visit to Baltimore, but my first ever visit to Dallas / Fort Worth.

I clearly have a long history of travelling to America. I guess it is why I enjoy posting on here so much.

My trip began with me leaving my home in Somerset at 4.30am on Tuesday 21 July. As I set off in my car, I texted a few people with the immortal line –

“Jack Kerouac.”

Soon after, as I headed east towards Salisbury Plain, I heard back from Beth and Teri, who were with The Legends out in Pasadena. A simple text message brought us all together.

I texted my friend Roma in NC that I was on my way and I was stunned to hear back from her.

“I hope to be able to be with you in Baltimore.”

This was a big surprise. I have known Roma for twenty years – we met in Florida in 1989 – but she hadn’t hinted that she would be able to join me. As I headed towards London, I tried not to get too excited as Roma does tend to leave things to the last moment and I did wonder if she would make it.

My mate Russ – Chelsea – dropped me off at Heathrow and I was on my way through passport control at 7am. Right in front of me was a young boy in full Chelsea kit. That had to be a good sign. I caught three hours’ kip on the BA flight…I was day-dreaming of how the trip would pan out…hoping we could build on our good start in Seattle. Before I knew it, I was on the subway from JFK to Times Square – what a buzz to be back in Gotham once again – and I was booked in at my hotel by 2pm. Ironically, it was opposite the hotel I had stayed at in June 2008 when I came over to pay a last, tearful visit to old Yankee Stadium.

The rest of my first day in America was spent travelling up by subway to 161st Street / River Avenue in The Bronx and watching The Yankees. I chatted to a Bronx native on the train and he wished me a happy spell in America. I then spent time in “Stan’s Sports Bar” for a while, nestled under the noisy elevated rails of the 4 line and across from the bleachers of the old stadium, the original House That Ruth Built. I know the owner, but I had just missed him. I had a chat with a couple of the bartenders, though. I drank two Rolling Rocks. Then into the revamped “Billy’s Sports Bar” for a burger and fries, washed down with a couple of Sam Adams…eight bucks each, though. Ouch. I texted a few friends. I felt I had to share my great sense of happiness at being back in one of my favourite locations. Chelsea will always be my life, and I am rather a lapsed baseball fan, compared to the heady years of 1993-2001, but I still love the beauty and tradition of the game. It acts as a great counter to my fanaticism of football.

It’s a different ball game.

I crossed the road and entered the new stadium. I immediately felt like a customer rather than a fan. The old place was cramped but atmospheric and the ghosts of previous players and fans haunted every nook and cranny. The new stadium is grand no doubts – its walkways are wide and open – but my immediate reaction was that it was like a shopping mall. There was a rain delay for thirty minutes – only my second ever in over 40 baseball games – and so I walked around, buying a box of Crackerjacks, taking it all in.

The game began at 7.30pm and my seat was high up on the first base side, thankfully under the cover of the minimal roof. As Sergio Mitre hurled an opening pitch at the Baltimore Orioles, the drizzle was still falling. That first pitch was hit for a double and the Orioles scored one run in the top of the first. However, the Yanks came from 0-1 and 1-2 down to win 6-4.

Although I am 44, I was carded when I bought some beer…I had to laugh. I soon stopped laughing when I heard the price…ten bucks…or £7.50 in real money. I gulped down a hot dog too. I texted a few folk from my seat high up in the stadium – a few were gathering together in Pasadena for the Chelsea vs. Inter game…I was juggling two teams that night. It felt wonderful.

It was a solid Yankee performance…it always takes me a while to get “into” watching live baseball…on any trip, I usually enjoy a few beers during game one, then hone my watching skills as the trip progresses…I only had one more game on this trip, so my attention had to be sharp. I know a lot of people despise the Yanks, but they are my team and I still get a buzz whenever Robinson Cano makes a great defensive play at second or when Mark Texeira reacts quickly to catch a ball at first.

At baseball, I find myself uttering the American “woo” at a great play rather than the English “yes!” when a Chelsea goal is scored. Why is that?

As the game progressed, I took over a hundred photos, from the first pitch to the last out ( a catch by Derek Jeter in shallow centre ). I thought about my life as an English Yankee fan writing about Chelsea for Americans. I pondered the two sports, the two kinds of support, the tribes, the differing senses of belonging. I have long since come to the conclusion that my trips to baseball cathedrals are purely personal…for a few hours, I get lost in pure Americana, I note the ways of the locals and maybe I try to blend in. It is a weird thing that not once have I ever desired to join a UK-based Yankee fan group, nor watch games with a bunch of UK fans. Not my thing. It’s purely personal for me. I note how this differs from most of the CIA fans I have got to meet since 2004. I wondered why that was. I think that football is the ultimate tribal sport. Baseball is just different. It’s more game-focussed…it’s about the players, not the fans. Fans go to baseball in small groups of three and four. I go to Chelsea with ten and fifteen.

The game ended at around 10.20pm – Frank Sinatra sang “New York New York” – and I had to rush to get down to “Nevada Smiths”, the famous watering hole on 3rd and 14th to see the Chelsea game live on TV. I was straight onto the subway. The crowd had started leaving in the eighth – I could never do that…I think it’s the football fan in me. The express train rattled through Manhattan and I stepped into “Nevada Smiths” bang on 11pm.

At the bar were Burger and Julie. Hugs and kisses. Out by the TV screen were Gill and Graeme. More hugs and kisses. I first met Gill – from Kent – in Nevada’s during the Q&A with Kerry in 2005. The story comes full circle. Also in the bar were NY Blues Carrie, Simon and Henry. It was pretty quiet though – I expected more people.

I supped some pints of Paulaner and watched as Drogs and then Frank scored to give us a 2-0 win. At the first goal, I texted Bob in San Francisco

“THTCAUN.”

He replied

“COMLD.”

For newbies to my reports, I apologise!

We watched the second half with diminishing interest. Burger, Julie and myself were now talking about the anticipation of meeting all of our friends again in Baltimore. We sang songs, Burger did a “Zigger Zagger “ ( you need to work on the tempo, mate! ) and we got more merry…OK, we got drunk. A text came through from Mad Mark in Pasadena saying he had JT’s shirt.

Git.

It was a great win. It looked like a massive crowd. Loads of Chelsea blue in The Rose Bowl.

We said our goodbyes. Burger, Julie and myself took a cab to Times Square. It was around 1.30am…apart from three hours’ kip on the plane, I had been awake for 26 hours.

I awoke at 8am with a headache, so – no pressure, I’m on holiday! – I slept on. By the time I showered and crossed the road for a breakfast at 10.15am, I was fine. I bought a copy of the New York Post…to my great pleasure, the picture chosen to illustrate the Yankee win was the last out…the close up of Jeter grasping the ball. It was an exact copy of my shot of the very same play, albeit in extreme close-up.

Unbeknown to me the previous night, my viewing of the Yankee game had seen us go top of the AL East.

Happy days.

A Yankee win, a Chelsea win. Very happy days.

On the Wednesday, I returned to the stadium.

Two funny things happened on the subway. On the first train I took, I noticed that the woman who was sitting next to me was reading a book.

“On The Road” by Jack Kerouac.

In the next train, opposite me, was a young lad wearing a Chelsea shirt. I showed him my Chelsea ring and we smiled.

Serendipity.

I met the former Yankee Mickey Rivers outside and he signed a photo for me. A lovely souvenir to add to my existing collection of Yankee signed photos.

Inside the stadium and – sunny weather now – I happily watched the Yanks again defeat the lacklustre Birds. New York raced into a 4-0 lead in the first and won again with a 6-4 score, behind the pitching of AJ Burnett. In this second game, I was closer to the action, sitting in the $125 seats in the second tier, level with the pitcher. I really enjoyed the view of this. Burnett pitched well, but the play of the game was a catch by Nick Swisher out in right field. My only purchase, apart from Yankee souvenirs, was a glass of fresh-squeezed lemonade.

Very un-Chelsea like.

Burger texted me to say that he was watching the game in a bar near Canal Street.

I again took many photos. Baseball is such a photogenic sport. The wind up and release by the pitcher. The crouch of the short-stop. The “gloves-up” stance of the first-baseman holding a runner. The clean lines of the diamond. The grass. It was fantastic.

I really didn’t want to leave the stadium, but I knew I had to move on. After a 15-8 record at the old place, I was 2-0 at the new home…and long may it continue.

The rest of Wednesday was just wonderful. I walked amidst tourists and shoppers along Fifth Avenue before returning to my hotel for a change of clothes. Then down to Greenwich Village for a lovely meal in a restaurant called “Rare” – and three more Sam Adams. I phoned Roma and – YES! – she was still keen to attend the game in Baltimore. I needed a spare ticket for her and so I contacted Mike ( who had just landed at JFK from the Inter game ). After an hour of texts and phone-calls, we were sorted and I was so pleased.

I then took a cab up to a lovely, local bar to meet Burger and Julie. It was now 9pm and, to my amusement, they hadn’t moved since the texts I had received at 4pm.

Proper Chelsea.

Proper Burger.

I joined them for a pint of “Blue Moon” and we then got another cab up to our respective hotels.

It had been a perfect day in New York.

I was up bright and breezy on the Thursday. I left my hotel room, had a McBreakfast and met Julie and Burgs at Times Square. My good mate Bob ( unagi1 ) from Fremont in CA had flown over on a red-eye and we met him at Penn Station.

The tribes were gathering.

We headed down to Ground Zero as neither Burger, Julie nor Bob had seen this eerie, silent place. We also raided the adjacent “Century 21” discount department store in a memorable hour. I only bought one item – in fact we all bought one item each – but it was a “must buy.” A brown CP Company jacket reduced from $759 to $279. It would have been rude not to. It will be worn at various away games next season, you can be sure of that.

Via an aborted trip to go on the Staten Island Ferry, we enjoyed a couple of beers in a restaurant near the financial district. We had a great discussion about all sorts. We then caught a cab up to Penn Station – it had to be the most tense cab ride ever, as we left it worryingly late.

Our train to Baltimore left at 2.05pm. We arrived at Penn Station at 1.58pm. Phew. I had joked that I wanted top quality chat on the train because we all knew that as soon as we hit Baltimore, the madness would start.

Three more beers, loads of laughs – great times.

We arrived 45 minutes late in Baltimore but soon got a cab to The Sheraton. We dumped our bags and headed for the Ale House, just a few blocks away. We had heard that the practice session was cancelled, but we hoped this was not the case. We bumped into Beth outside and she was engaged on the phone, no doubt trying to solve yet another logistical problem on this trip. Bless her. As we entered the bar, we were met by many familiar faces…too many to mention. But it was certainly great to see John ( mgoblue06 ) once again – we had enjoyed some fun times back at HQ in the spring. It was great to meet Tommy Langley and Steve Finnieston too – heroes of mine from 1974 to 1980. I had last met them at the CPO last November. Handshakes with many, hugs with Wobley, Mad Mark, Tuna and Simon.

This was it. This is what we had waited two years for.

Chelsea on tour in America – Mow That Meadow!

I downed a beer and set off with a few friends for the practice at the Ravens Stadium. However, there were massive lines. After treating the locals to ten minutes of Chelsea songs, we decided to head back to the pub. We heard later that it was a bit of an anti-climax…no practice, just some autograph signings. And Milan didn’t even show up. I had my photo taken by the Johnny Unitas statue and headed back to the boozer.

Let the fun begin.

From about 7pm to 3am, we drank and sang, then sang and drank, meeting many many people who I have got to know over the years. We disappeared upstairs and I pinned VINCI PER NOI up on the wall. The Q and A began, but I was too busy drinking and chatting. I think Jock was getting some stick for his views on JT. I left them to it and headed downstairs, where the hardcore were based. For the rest of the evening, I hung out with John ( who disappeared off to bed way too early! ), San Francisco Bob, Detroit Bob, Cathy, Mo, Mad Mark, Simon, Tuna, Cliff, Burger, Julie, Spy, Tommy and Jock…plus a few more at various stages. My good mate Chris ( who I had first met at the DC game in 2005 ) showed up, but we sadly shared only a few minutes. I hope he realised it was manic – I had warned him.

After a while, we trooped over to Pickles, just as the rain started. The fun continued as we took over the bar. The beers continued and someone bought us some shots. I got chatting to Neil Barnett for a while and I haven’t a clue what I said to him. I think that it may have been about Chelsea ( pause for effect…)

There were a bevy of local girls nearby and they seemed to be attracted to our English accents and bizarre selection of Chelsea songs. I was chatting to one girl, who reached up and dabbed her finger below my eye, picking up a loose eyelash.

“Make a wish” she said, looking me in the eyes.

Well, dear reader, I can assure you it wasn’t a wish for Sheva to score twenty goals next season.

Before we knew it, the time had raced by and we had to leave. Julie and Burger had gone back to the hotel a bit before and so the last few standing ( Cathy – always Cathy – the two Bobs and myself ) made our way back to The Sheraton. I got inside the room, noted John spread over the entire bed and so grabbed my CP coat and fell asleep on the floor. ( Apparently Julie had woken up a few times and looked over to see John but not me…she was wondering where I was, wondering perhaps if my wish had come true! )

It had been a superb night. I just wish I could remember more of it. Can anyone fill in the gaps?

I woke at about 8am and soon grabbed an hour more sleep in the bed. The other three went down for breakfast and I showered and changed into my match day gear. As you all know, I usually forego Chelsea gear for a multitude of reasons, but I had been on a diet in order to squeeze into my original 1983 Le Coq Sportif shirt – an homage to that 83-84 season which I have been detailing the past year. I think it looked great as it happens.

I walked over to join Eddie’s tour of Camden Yards, the pristine baseball stadium of the Orioles. A statue of George Herman Ruth greated me. The Babe was a Baltimore native and was born a few blocks away. His father owned a saloon bar whose location was actually situated within the current outfield. That’s just beautiful. Ruth’s first pro team was the original Orioles – who moved and became the New York Highlanders, who became the Yankees. That I had just been in NYC watching the Yankees and the current manifestation of the Orioles seemed to be just perfect.

I enjoyed the tour and I was amazed to see Cathy and Mo in the group. I had seen a Orioles vs. New York game in 1993, the highlight being a Don Mattingly homer into right. We had a lovely group photo in the home dugout. That finished around 12.45pm. Back to P Street and I was suffering with a slight hangover. I had a plate of bangers and mash ( so-so ) but began the day with three cokes. The beers could wait. A few NYBs showed up – lovely to see yet more faces.

I phoned Roma who was driving up from near Asheville in NC. She was still 200 miles away. I went back to the hotel to charge up my camera batteries, then headed over to Pickles once again. I guess this was at about 4pm.

Bob and John, with Andy Wray, were already at the bar and I joined them for a few $2 Bud Lites.

Here the fun began again. Over the next three hours, we had so many laughs. I took my photo album from last season around to show to a load of people. Of course, this was our pub, but there were a few Milan fans too. It was so friendly. Chopper, Mike, Lawson, Elliot, Curtis, Karen, Dave, Layla, Keith, Steve, Carrie, Alan, Napoli Frank and the New York Blues were in fine form.

Of course, we took a few photos of the three “Scores” girls, with celery down their cleavage.

Oh boy – too much!

The beers flowed. I met Brian ( carolinablue ) from NC for the first time – we have been emailing each other since 2006. I explained “celery” to some confused locals. I asked Toxic Tel to do me a countdown for a “Zigger Zagger” and it was hillarious – it went something like this…

” 10 – 9 – 8 – 7 – 6 – 7 – 6 – 5 – 4 – 3 – 2 – 1 ”

Amidst laughter from all, I did a hearty “Zigger Zagger” and turned purple. I bumped into the two girls from the previous night again and wished I was twenty years younger. The barbecue smoke outside the pub was strong, the music was loud, but the Chelsea songs came thick and fast.

I phoned Roma and she was stuck in traffic…oh dear. Soon the time came around for us to march to the stadium. Off we went, handing out CIA cards to the blue-clad locals. I met up – all too briefly – with my mate Glenn’s uncle Bob from NJ…he is a Southend United fan and I last met him at HQ for the FA Cup game in January.

By the stadium, I handed over some Chelsea flags to a gaggle of American kids in a hospitality tent. I felt, momentarily, like a true ambassador for my club. A lovely feeling.

Massive lines to get in at 7.30pm. Meanwhile, no Roma.

Aaaaarrrrggghhh.

The traffic on I-95 was truly horrendous and I began to wonder if I would get in for the kick-off.

The answer was “no” – I waited and waited, pacing like an expectant father. I noted many people looking for tickets, plus a few scalpers doing business. At 8.07pm, I heard a massive roar and presumed Milan had scored. Eventually, Roma parked up and we met by the Unitas statue at 8.15pm.

A massive sigh of relief. I gave her a big hug.

I last saw her inside the Home Depot Centre after the Galaxy vs. Chelsea game in 2007. And here we were outside the Chelsea vs. Milan game in 2009.

Two years had passed – it seemed like two minutes.

Amidst loads of giggles, we walked around to our seats in the Chelsea section, right in with the NYBs, five rows behind the CIA lot. We got in at 8.20pm – happy with that. And we were 1-0 up. Drogba with a screamer! Almost immediately, I signalled my entrance with another “Zigger Zagger”, then regretted it. I made up for lost time and clicked many photos. I noted the two Chelsea banners on the side balconies – they usually reside at opposite ends of The Bridge on match days. I wonder who brought them over…I presumed they belonged to the CSG. Seedorf equalised, but I missed this one too, my gaze momentarily distracted by some errant celery.

Roma bought me a beer a half-time. I looked around and saw lots of faces, so full of smiles. It was a great feeling to be so far from home, yet so at home.

I really enjoyed this match. Both teams “went for it” and Milan were a tad unlucky really. They hit the bar twice and forced a great reflex save from Petr. My preparations for this trip have been all about the fans, the songs, the friendships. I had overlooked the fact that none other than Ronaldinho, our former nemesis, would be playing for Milan. His shimmy in the second half was stupendous. I was impressed with Zhirkov and it was his calm strike which gave us a 2-1 win. I have to be honest, I found it hard to concentrate on the football. I was forever looking around at the reactions of the locals to our songs and chants.

I see Chelsea every 5 days back home – or at least I did last season – and so my focus in America has always been on the fans, not the team.

I think Roma fell in love with Sheva’s blonde locks. It couldn’t have been his football.

Overall, I think Milan had more fans – maybe more plastics – but we were far more organised. It had been a result on and off the pitch. But still a few niggles remain…

To be blunt, he Chelsea singing was a bit disjointed I felt…yet again, too many fans not singing, clueless…how anyone can go to a footy game and not even join in leaves me befuddled. Three girls took ages to decipher the simple “Super Frank” chant. Is the English accent that strong? I also noted “Carefree” being sung WAY too slow. Still – that apart, it was a hell of an experience and I hope our antics enticed a few more in to The Chelsea Family.

The game ended and I took a deep breath.

In 2004, around 20,000 had seen us play Roma in Pittsburgh. Five years on, a sell out 71,000 had witnessed my team in Baltimore. I could hardly comprehend it. My personal view is that getting to Moscow really took our “brand awareness” up a few notches in America. I also think we are the first club for any sports fans in America who favour “blue” teams ( Chicago Cubs, Michigan, LA Dodgers, NY Giants, etc) and I think this might be a valid reason for our growth in popularity.

We marched slowly back to the centre of town with Burger, Julie and Mark. Unlike the Thursday, this was to be a far more mellow evening. Pickles seemed to be devoid of any “faces” and so we returned to the Ale House amidst a further rain storm.

We sat outside and got stuck into a few more beers. With Roma alongside me, I mused on a few personal things. It had been surreal to see her again ( we were a long-distance “item” from 2001 to 2006 ) and here we were in Baltimore.

What does it all mean?

“Better not contemplate it too much mate, have another beer.”

The residual hard-core ( no Cathy on this occasion ) on that Friday night in Crab Town was San Francisco Bob, Farmer John, Burger, Julie, Detroit Bob, Simon, Cliff, Tuna, myself – and Roma.

The five inhabitants of room 413 – Burger, Julie, John, Roma and myself – slowly meandered back to The Sheraton amidst much merriment. A bearded fellow – “Santa” – walked past and he was serenaded by us all and I thought Julie would pass out with laughter.

Too much fun.

The time reached 3am and Cary invited us up to his room, but the hotel wasn’t prepared for Chelsea On Tour. One guy complained and so we had the quietest ever “Zigger Zagger” which was whispered by Cliff ( aka Alfie Garnett ) and the room was filled with muffled laughter.

After more complaints about “noise”, we eventually called it a day. The sleeping arrangements were sorted out and Farmer John took a spell on the floor.

3.45am – Room 43, The Sheraton, Walton’s Mountain –

“Goodnight Burger.”

“Goodnight Chris.”

“Goodnight Roma.”

“Goodnight Chris.”

“Goodnight Julie.”

“Goodnight Chris.”

“Goodnight Farmer John.”

“Goodnight Chris.”

“MOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

Baltimore had been a blast.

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Tales From Chelsea In America On Tour

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Chelsea vs. Fulham : 2 May 2009.

I think I am suffering from battle fatigue at the moment. It’s not surprising. Fulham at home was match number fifty for me this season and I think it’s all starting to take its toll.

I even went to a game on Friday evening. My local non-league team, Frome Town, are on the brink of promotion to the Southern League for the first time in their history. My mate Steve tried to round up a few old school friends, but I was the only one who joined him and his two sons Harry ( United ) and Charlie ( Chelsea ) for the game with Bitton. Harry’s claim to fame was being an England mascot at a game in Manchester four years ago – and Frank Lampard was the player he held hands with. Lampard, back in the days when he wasn’t booed by Ingerland’s supporters, even scored a goal that night.

A crowd of around two-hundred watched as Frome scored twice within a five minute period in the first half to beat the champions 2-0. The ex-Southend player Mark Salter even missed a penalty just after the second goal. Salter is a bit of a cult hero at Frome and is The Robins’ highest ever scorer. It wasn’t a bad game…under lights, with the misty rain creating its own particular atmosphere, it was a nice place to be on a Friday evening.

The Frome Five assembled at around 9.15am, but we were met with some bad news. It seems that Dave and Karen are not renewing their Shed Upper season tickets next season. They have recently moved house and I think the “spend” was more than they budgeted. They are doing the FA Cup Final though – we all have tickets. We all overdosed on pig flu’ jokes on the drive up. There was a rugby game on at Twickenham ( what a waste of a Saturday! ) and this held us up somewhat. I spotted that there seemed to be a baseball tournament taking place in the park next to Richmond RFU ground. I even spotted a Yankee fan in a Thurman Munson shirt…respect!

You all know the score by now – we parked up at 11.30am, a breakfast and straight around the corner to The Goose. This was yet another manic pre-match, with me meeting many Americans in the boozer. For those that are new to this website, maybe some people are wondering why I contribute to this site. Without wishing to go into my whole bloody life story, I first visited North America in 1989 and love going back. I know New York, St Augustine in Florida and the Asheville area in North Carolina very well. Chelsea toured America in 2004 and, at first, I was unable to afford to go. However, thanks to being left some money in a will, I decided to go to the Roma game in Pittsburgh in that year. I really do have to thank my aunt Julie for leaving me that money. It has since opened up my Chelsea-supporting life and has been a fantastic experience. I went again in 2005 – games in DC and NJ – but I only really got involved on this site just before the 2006 trip to Chicago. There are around seven or eight UK fans ( Mark, Cathy, Mo, Ian, Kevin, Anna and myself… maybe some more ) that have been to most of these US tours and I love being able to pass on my passion to new people. You might have guessed.

We arrived in The Goose bang on midday and the first people to great me were Pete ( “PJK” ) and Becky from San Francisco. I first met Pete on the coach back from the Suwon game in LA in 2007. He’s a season ticket holder, despite having lived in America for twenty years or more. He comes over a few times each season. Parky was in the pub with the Trowbridge boys and I reintroduced him to Pete, who he last met for the Roma home game last autumn. I walked out into the beer garden and briefly chatted to Rob about Barcelona. The beer garden was drenched in sun and had never been more packed.

As I got the beers in, I spotted Jenni ( “bluebelle” ) and Mo ( “shovelgirl” ) and – after a few words – the girls were directed to our section of the beer garden. Alan, Daryl, Ed, Glenn, The Youth, Seb, Andy, Lovejoy, Chopper, Gary, Simon, Tim, Georgie and what seemed like a million others were milling around, drinking and laughing. Jenni had sat next to Alan and Gary in Barcelona. I was aware that Andy ( “wrayman” )from the OC Chapter was in town for one game, but I think he stayed close to The Bridge. I texted Beth ( #26 ) a few times, but didn’t meet her this time.

Simon arrived, minus his son Milo, who came in for a scathing attack from us all.

“Typical fair-weather JCL Chelsea fan…as soon as we are out of the league, off he goes paintballing – disgraceful.”

Milo is eleven.

We all laughed.

Next to arrive was Brian from LA, who I met in 2007 too. He is originally from Belfast and has a “Norn Iron” / London / LA accent…he had just flown in during the morning and was pumped. He’s over for The Specials too. He posts on the board as “cfcshed65”. On another walk to the bar, I detected a few American accents amongst a group of around seven sat quietly at a table. Before I knew it, Parky was ploughing straight in and it transpired that “comeonyoublues” was at the head of the table and so I introduced myself to his little group and welcomed them all to The Goose. They were all from the DC area, so I asked if they were going to the Baltimore game. The four chaps were, but not so sure about the three ladies, one of whom I had to correct –

“Football, not soccer!”

Before I knew it, the DC lot and Brian had all left to acquire their match tickets and I was able to spend a bit more time with Jenni and Mo. Then, the time came for them to leave.

Daryl, Parky and myself were the last to leave the pub at 2.40pm – we would be cutting it fine for sure. As we strolled past Fulham Broadway, we could hardly believe our eyes…two slow-moving police vans, with about fifteen OB on foot, were escorting a mouthy little mob of Fulham fans. They numbered no more than twenty-five and were certainly enjoying their five minutes of fame. No doubt they told of this to all of their school friends by text.

“Yeah – we walked right through. Chelsea didn’t want to know.”

Bless ‘em.

What a lovely free-flowing move which lead to Anelka’s first league goal in ages. Just a shame I was still climbing the last of the stairs when it was scored! Yep – I missed it. I don’t miss many.

As I sat down next to Alan, I shared his surprise at the strength of team we put out…very surprising indeed. “I hope Guus knows what he’s doing.” Before I had a chance to get my camera out, Fulham equalised with a shot which Cech really should have saved. The 3,000 away fans roared their approval.

A lovely sweeping shot from Malouda made it 2-1. Just a shame I was outside in the gents – alone – at the time. Yep – I missed that goal too. I came back with a sheepish grin on myself and quite a few so-called mates were shooing me away

“Stay out!”

I laughed – I’ve never missed two Chelsea goals in the same game before. Oh boy. This pre-match drinking has a lot to answer for…

This game had the air of a friendly…heaven knows what the game against Blackburn will be like. We played OK, without overdoing it. I had a drink with Brian ( who was sat ten seats away ), Becky and Pete in “Dixons” at half-time…but sadly Andy wasn’t spotted. Next time, mate!

At last I saw a Chelsea goal, with that inch-perfect pass from Anelka to set up Drogba. We were well deserving of our three points. The Fulham fans made a bit of noise. Let’s hope we make a hell of a lot more noise against Barca. After a little bit of Fulham banter, the MHU replied with –

“ You never won fuck all!”

Call me a pedant, but this really annoys me – this is a double negative and it grates every damn time I hear it. It should be – roll on drums…

“You’ve always win fuck all!”

On the walk out of the ground, I found myself next to a young Fulham kiddie and he was talking to his mate.

“Yeah, really poor Chelsea support.”

“Well, at least we don’t need thunder sticks mate.”

He bristled with annoyance at me upsetting his applecart and blatantly lied…

“We don’t have thunder sticks.”

Bless.

Footnote – I got back to Frome at 7.30pm, but soon drove over to Judy’s home town of Westbury for a party at the old railway social club, opposite Westbury train station. The train station was where I used to depart for Chelsea back in those heady days of 1983-84 and was recently featured in the “hoolie porn” flick “Green Street” ( in the guise of Macclesfield train station, for some reason. )

There you go – obligatory 1983-84 reference completed.

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Tales From A Sunny HQ

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Chelsea vs Manchester City : 15 March 2009.

Liverpool’s surprising win at Old Trafford set things up nicely for our game against Manchester City.

Four of us – Glenn, PD, Dave and myself – set off for London at 9am. It looked like it would be a very pleasant day. I wore my new sky blue Robe di Kappa pullover, purchased at Turin airport, and I was reminded that Glenn wore a sky blue top for the game at Eastlands in the September sun. Maybe this would turn out to be a good luck charm.

Unfortunately, things took a worrying turn at my place of work on the Friday after my return from Turin. I aired a few thoughts with Glenn on the drive up to The Smoke. Let’s hope that my job is safe for the foreseeable future…at least as far as Rome in May and then America and Canada in July. Maybe I will have to cut back on games next season – I certainly can’t see myself keeping this pace up for much longer. There was an England rugby game at Twickers, so we came in around the M25. I was reminded of a day about ten years ago when we stopped at Fleet Services and I asked some rubgy fans “is there a game on?” just to wind them up.

They bristled with indignation – “Yes. England are playing.”

“Oh, right.”

Ho ho ho. I am not fond of rugby fans as a lot look down their noses at us.

This was to be Farmer John’s ( mgoblue06 ) last game of his stay in England. He wanted to make a special day of it and so I ‘phoned Salvo to see if he could open his restaurant early. We made good time and were able to pop into the Lillie Langtry at about 11am for a livener en route to Salvo’s. We arrived dead on 11.30am. There was seven of us in total – Farmer John, his two Dutch college mates ( Matt, Arnhem and Nils, Groningen ), Glenn, Dave, myself and Larry ( New Jersey, one of the New York Blues ) who was watching his second ever game at HQ. I handed out some photos from my trip to Turin as we ordered some Peronis. Parky was running late and didn’t make it unfortunately.

As the pizzas were ordered ( for me – I made a nod towards my usual pre-match breakfast by ordering a four seasons with an egg in the middle ) I made a toast once again.

“Friendship and Football.”

The green beer bottles clinked against each other.

The pizzas went down well. Larry told a nice story – he was at Newark airport on Thursday and noted a chap talking in a strong Eastern European accent. It turns out this bloke was Eugene Tenebaum’s best mate and Larry had a good chat with him. Small world.

We then raced over to The Goose for two more pints – how I hate these early kick-offs with no time for much of a pre-match. Everything was so rushed. My lot were in the beer garden and we were soon settled though. Dave and Lovejoy had spares which we managed to palm off to two more of Farmer John’s mates. I handed around my photos ( a third of the 275 I took in Turin! ) for Andy and Alan to look at. Al dropped them all and I had to refrain myself from having a “Rainman” moment.

“Oh no.”

I’m a bit obsessive about my photos!

We heard about the two Chelsea lads who were so pointlessly attacked in Turin. One only received surface wounds and was able to see the game. The other was more seriously hurt and our thoughts go out to him. One wonders why this never got any media attention. The pre-meditated attack by some Roma ultras on an Arsenal bus was reported though. As much as I love Italy, some of their fans are cowards. They always have to resort to blades.

The weather was great throughout the game. I arrived a couple of minutes late and so missed the offside goal from Frank. To be honest, I almost missed Essien’s goal. I saw Frank over the ball, looked up at the away fans, then saw the ball flying towards the goal from the “D.” I couldn’t work it out, but who cares? Essien really impressed me so much throughout the first half. He has so much energy and drive. How we missed him. We gave Wayne Bridge a magnificent reception and he clapped us on more than one occasion. He will always be loved by us at HQ. we passed the ball around well I thought, but City were awful…Robinhio especially. Just a bit annoying that we didn’t score more. I noted a lovely “one-two” between Frank and Essien, something that Ballack would never be able to do.

I had to laugh when Malouda came on. Our mate Tom, a spritely 72 year old, said “Ah – the Malouda Triangle…he goes missing.”

The only other high spot, apart from a Belletti shot which hit the post, was a defensive clearance which resulted in the match ball ending up a few feet from me. Glenn got hold of it in his two hands and threw it down to Frank Lampard. I was praying that a goal would result – Glenn would claim that assist for the rest of his life.

So, despite Liverpool winning 4-1 at Manchester United, they are still looking at our arse.

I said my goodbyes to Farmer John outside The Goose. He has certainly packed a lot in to his ten weeks in the UK – he has visited Dublin and Paris and will be off to see Rome, Florence and the French Alps on a skiing trip…but I am sure he will admit that the highlights were his five Chelsea games.

See you in Montreal, John.

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Tales From Slumberland

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Chelsea vs. Middlesbrough : 28 January 2009.

As is so often the case, the pre-match was better than the actual game, but we dug out an important victory against The Smoggies.

So often we talk of a “must-win” game, but after Aston Villa and United’s wins on Tuesday, nothing less than three points would do. We needed to have a solid base from which to feel confident for our summit meeting at Anfield on Sunday.

Work is quiet at the moment and I was able to release myself from the daily grind earlier than usual at 3.30pm. Parky had been dropped off at The Pheasant by his better-half at 2.30pm and was well on the way, three pints to the good.

It was a murky, horrible drive up to London…a few stretches of fog. Not enjoyable driving. But Parky, the lager working nicely, was full of chat. Heaven knows what we talked about – the usual load of blokey tripe, no doubt. I had agreed to meet John ( mgoblue06 ) and Chris ( captdf ) in The Goose at about 5.30pm. We were parked up and made our way into the steamy interior of The Goose at just after half-five…Parky went off to get the lagers in while I located Chris, his wife Abbey and their mate Keith. They had all been in London for about a week, but were obviously saving the best to last. Introductions over ( I vaguely remember Chris from LA 2007 ), I headed over to the rear of the bar to sup my beer and say “hello chaps” to the cluster of mates already present. It was a pretty good turnout. The towns of Frome, Westbury and Trowbridge were represented by Frank, Parky, Mark, Andy and myself. Nice to see some familiar faces from home.

Soon after I received a call from John who was on his way up the North End Road from the tube station. It was good to see him again. He was with fellow Reading student Lisa, who was going to be seeing The Mighty Blues for the first time. It would be Keith’s first game too. Great stuff. I’m a lucky chap to be able to share the excitement of others’ first games. I hoped they were in for a good time. I introduced John and Chris to each other – I joked with Abbey “hi, my name is Chris and I am your host tonight.”

We had a nice time in The Goose, chatting about all sorts of nonsense. John’s new mate Lovejoy was in attendance, flitting around, smoking cigarettes in the beer garden, talking on his moby, sipping a few glasses of Rose. I inwardly cringed when I saw John introduce him to Lisa. To say Loveloy has a reputation would be an understatement. I spoke to Keith about Chelsea and what it all means to all of my mates. He was keen to learn about the club and it was a pleasure explaining a few things to him. As is always the case, the time in the pub went by all too quickly and it was soon time to leave.

There was slight drizzle as we fastened our coats and headed south down the North End Road. Chris spoke to me about the circumstances which lead to his first ever game at Chelsea, way back in 1998 and I promised to try to send him some photos from that game, a 3-1 over Coventry City. Mark Nicholls scored apparently – whatever happened to him? This would be his fourth game at HQ, I believe. We stopped for a group photo outside The So Bar, the mammoth West Stand in the background. Programmes were purchased and we went our separate ways – Chris, Abbey and Keith had seats in The Shed Upper, Lisa, John and myself were headed for the Matthew Harding Upper.

We weren’t expecting a great turnout from The Smoggies and I suppose they brought about 300 or so. Pitiful really. I had picked up PD’s spare ticket so I wasn’t sat in my usual berth. I was further towards the North goal, but only one row further back. It’s a good seat and I was able to lean on the barrier in classical “concerned sports fan” style. Frank, Andy and Mark were three seats down. Chris and Lisa were sat next to Alan in The Sleepy Hollow. All of us within a few yards of each other.

Well, it wasn’t a great first-half at all. In fact, we were rubbish. We had tons of possession, but had no real clean cut chances. The whole crowd appeared to be docile too…maybe the rain had dampened their spirits…what an under-whelming experience for poor Lisa and Keith. Of course, there are 40,000 experts at every home game and I am no different. I usually try to give the players the benefit of the doubt, though. But on this occasion I was getting as frustrated as the next man.

A quick synopsis of our first-half woes coming up.

Pass, pass, pass – to the point of distraction. And so slow. Everyone knows that I am not Ballack’s biggest fan, but he frustrated me more than anyone. How often does he receive the ball and choose to play the simple ball – giving the onus to somebody else? How often do you see him get the ball under control and look up, ears perked, salivating at the chance to make a quick, killer ball? I think you all know the answer. The man is too languid for me. If we had pace elsewhere in the team, I could accommodate him, but he just adds to our problems. I can accept Mikel being pedestrian, but not two of our three midfielders. To be fair, Mikel did OK. Frank was buzzing about as per normal, always involved, but unable to break down the defence. Of course, it can’t be easy against ten men behind the ball. But – I don’t know…where is the movement, the drive, the pace, the commitment to work for each other? We lack pace upfront and it hurts. Anelka looked disinterested in the first period. I know he doesn’t thrive on the early ball, but we never hit him with a quick release from the back once. Malouda and Kalou were unable to shrug off their markers. The whole thing was so laboured. Add to this Frank’s woeful one-paced chipped corners and Cech’s pitiful clearances and you get a frustrating performance. The team seemed to lack confidence in each other. Deeply worrying.

Only one thing gave me a smile. I looked over towards the ‘Boro bench and there was Lovejoy in his front row seat, head bowed, sleeping. Both Alan and John had noticed too. He had slept through the entire first-period. Perhaps he knew something that we didn’t. Wise choice.

Behind the seats at half-time, next to the tea bar in the MHU a familiar face ( name unknown ) was “going into one”, effing and blinding, Scolari this, Scolari that. It was quite a spectacle. One bloke in the queue for the gents said “don’t worry, he was like that when we won the league.”

I walked over to chat with Alan and John. Oh dear – what a dab spectacle. We hoped for some goals in the second period.

To be fair to the team, the performance was better. And after a while, the crowd awoke from their slumbers. Well, everyone but the Joy Of Love, who resolutely refused to be awoken throughout the half-time period. What a star.

Everyone knows, too, that since Moscow ( and maybe, if I am honest, well before ) I am not Didier’s biggest fan. But – credit where credit is due, he ruffled a few feathers when he came on for Malouda ad genuinely looked motivated, with points to prove. More of the same please, Drogba. But the formation still stayed as 4-3-3, with Anelka out on the right for the most part.

After a Kalou header which, somehow, was flicked over from three yards, our luck changed.

Thank heavens for the two Frank Lampard corners and for the two close range Salomon Kalou goals. Much relief all round. Once the first one went in, I glanced over to John and we both roared and punched the air. Alan and myself have this little routine every time we score, which I may have mentioned before. In a Chelsea video from around 1991, there is a sequence featuring Tommy Docherty, high up in the old East Stand gantry, on film, just after Chelsea have scored. He looks at the camera and says “Come on my little diamonds. They’ll have to open up now.”

Of course, we misquote this, but every time we go ahead, Alan says to me “They’ll have to come at us now” and I say to him “come on my little diamonds.” We even text “THTCAUN” and “COMLD” to each other from different parts of Europe. After Kalou’s first, he raced over, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“They’ll have to come at us now.”

“Come on my little diamonds.”

The goal woke Lovejoy up too!

I captured both Frank’s corner, down below me, and Kalou’s header on film. Keep a look out for those. We then heard that Wigan had equalised at home to Liverpool. Fantastic. A medley of Liverpool songs followed. That’s more like it – a bit more of an atmosphere for my American friends.

Stoch came on – way too late, but looked keen. Let’s play him for the full game at Watford.

After the game, we all reassembled outside the entrance to the Chelsea Hotel. One last treat…I had again arranged for Ron Harris to meet Chris, Abbey, Keith, John and Lisa. He was up in the bar area with his son Mark, a former Chelsea youth player. He happily posed for a team photo.

From both ends of the spectrum…Ron Harris 795 games, Lisa and Keith 1 game.

We said our goodbyes to Chris, Abbey and Keith – they are soon headed back to Orange County. I dropped John and Lisa back at their digs in Reading, then Parky fell asleep as I drove back West.

I would be meeting up with John in Liverpool on Sunday. Perfect – we had just edged above them at the top end of the table.

Got home, knackered, at 1.30am…altogether now…”Awesome.”

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Tales From The Bottom Of The Ninth

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Chelsea vs. Stoke City : 17 January 2009.

For one Chelsea In America regular, at least, a day to remember!

John from Ohio ( mgoblue06 ) is over studying at Reading University and his first ever game was planned for Anfield. However, he contacted me on Friday to enquire about doing a Stadium Tour. I told him that no tours take place on match days. As he was keen to come into London anyway, I soon talked him into going to the game. He didn’t need much persuasion of course. The only stumbling block was a match ticket – but I assured him that we would get him a ticket, by hook or by crook.

Let me say here and now – as long as anyone in America is a True Blue member, I will help them out as best I can. But you people will need to make that initial commitment. It’s only fair.

Glenn was off skiing in Kitzbuhel and his place in the Frome car was ably taken by Brian, whose last game was the season opener against Portsmouth. We set off from Frome at 9am and the banter flying between Brian, PD and myself was ruthless…we were rolling with laughter. It was a great start to the day. My good friend Andy called to confirm that Woody had failed to show up and so – thankfully – we had a spare for John. He was already on his way into Paddington and was dead chuffed when I texted him –

East Stand Lower  Front Row  £30

Karen produced a top performance behind the wheel and we were in the café on Lillee Road at 11am. A Super Breakfast always hits the mark. I was soon walking down the North End Road, full of Saturday shoppers, and met up with John outside the Megastore at 11.45am. I relayed the story of myself back in 1984…my first weekend away at college in Stoke-On-Trent…I hadn’t planned to go to Chelsea on the Saturday but after a typically less-than-successful attempt at wooing a girl at the Fresher’s Ball on the Friday, I decided, while walking home in the small hours, to head down to Chelsea a few hours later. “In case of trouble revert to type!” And here was John – his first weekend in the UK and going to Chelsea…brilliant. In the words of a famous film character – “What else you gonna do on a Saturday?”

John had already purchased a few things in the Megastore. I had a little surprise for him. I took him up to the hotel foyer and there was Ron Harris, along with his brother Alan and Peter Bonetti. I introduced John to them all – Peter Bonetti made a lot of John’s accent. I explained that this was his first game and John posed for a photo with the three former players. We listened while Ron spoke about Craig Bellamy refusing to train at West Ham. I think it is safe to say Ron was bemused to say the least. Who else should be there but Mick ( the autograph king ) who very kindly gave John two 8 by 10 prints for Ron to sign. It was a nice start to John’s first ever game. I did the usual Tour Guide bit and took John into the Fox And Pheasant just over the bridge. John kindly bought me a pint, but I made the toast

“Friendship and Football.”

I received a text from New York Blue Mike and he popped in to the pub too. The Fox and Pheasant is a lovely little pub, down a side road by the Black Bull. It has a great garden in the rear. We finished our drinks and headed down past the ground. We dipped into the So Bar, hoping to bump into Mad Mark and Lab Rat. There they were – on the stage, pints in hand. It was the first time Mike had seen Mark since Moscow. A few words with Mark Worrall on the stall – he kindly passed on free copies of CFCUK to the two visitors from The States. Things were going well. I forget how many times John used the word “awesome” during the day!

We walked back up the North End Road and reached The Goose just a few minutes before 1pm. My goodness – the place was rammed. My usual drinking companions were standing in a large group…loads of faces, loads of chat. The Preston vs. Burnley game was on the TV. Mike got the beers in and I introduced John to just a few of my mates, but everyone was involved in their own chats…it was hectic. I thanked Daryl for his unexpected Southend match report. He handed over my ticket to The Specials in April. Mike and John decided to get some fresh air and headed out to the beer garden. We were joined, at various stages, by a few more people. Firstly, Mike’s friend Henry – who I had met in NYC in June. He was now back home in London and it was good to see him again. Lovejoy popped out for a few smokes – it was his spare ticket that John would be using. Ever the character, he was full of stories and jokes. He knows Turin well and we had a little chat about the city. I look forward to seeing him out there. Dutch Mick popped out for a few words with Mick…it really seemed like the clans had gathered…in a tight little circle we had John ( Reading via Ohio ), Mike ( Brooklyn via London ), Mick ( Holland via London ), Henry ( London via New York ) and Lovejoy ( Coventry via Planet Lovejoy.)

We set off for the ground in good time, but we typically lost touch with Lovejoy who still had John’s ticket. We dipped into La Reserve – introduced John to Cathy – and eventually stumbled across Lovejoy outside. I wished John an enjoyable time and went my way.

It had been a great pre-match.

I took my seat alongside Brian and Alan. I looked over the East Lower and saw that John was in. I wondered what was going through his mind. There was a minute’s applause in appreciation of the life of Chic Thompson, one of the two ‘keepers used by Chelsea in our 1955 Championship season. He had sadly passed away ten days earlier. He had been one of the special guests at the CPO lunch that I had attended with Beth in November. I remember him sincerely thanking the club for effectively paying for some hospital treatment. The audience were visibly moved by his kind words. It was very touching.

Rest In Peace.

Stoke only brought 1,500, but I guess the economic climate is tough for us all these days. Their last league game at The Bridge was in May 1989, back in the old second division. I remember being impressed with their flying winger Peter Beagrie.

Their team included Amdy Faye and Abdoulaye Faye and I noted that their sister Dunaway Faye was on the bench. Of course, this was Frank’s Lampard’s 400th Chelsea game and the match programme highlighted other members of our 400 club.

Ron Harris 795
Peter Bonetti 729
John Hollins 592
Dennis Wise 445
Steve Clarke 421
Kerry Dixon 420
Eddie McCreadie 410
John Bumstead 409
Ken Armstrong 402

Lamps ought to be up to position number 5 by May. I have seen all of these payers apart from Eddie Mac and 1955 team member Ken Armstrong. And to think that John had just met numbers 1 and 2 in the hotel. Awesome.

Also in the programme was an article about former Chelsea and Stoke player Mark Stein, who played for us in the 1994 Cup Final.

I think I read somewhere that the total shot count was something like Chelsea 27 and Stoke City 3. That seemed about right. To be fair – Stoke, despite having to make two substitutions in the first thirty minutes, chased and harried us at every opportunity. We watched through our fingers every time Delap hoisted the ball into the box.

I kept an eye on John – I remember Ballack came over to take a throw right next to where he was sat. What was that like John? But I also noticed that the copious amounts of rose that our friend Lovejoy had quaffed pre-match had an unfortunate effect. He appeared to be asleep for almost the entire first-half. Legend! However, this is nothing – once at a game in May 1999, Brian had slept through the entire game. He is still getting stick for that. We presented him with a shirt which said “No Sleep Till Kick-Off.”

It was the usual story of tons of possession – it resembled a chess game – and pretty woeful finishing. I wasn’t happy with Malouda’s performance. He never ceases to amaze me with his lack of “nous” about off-the-ball movement. Hey ho. I met up with Mike at half-time, who was watching for the first time ever in the MHU, and we moaned away.

The moaning was intensified when that man Delap sprang a surprise on our sleeping defence to give Stoke an undeserved lead. Oh hell. Our World caved in. I lost count of the number of shots which spun past the Stoke goal…that wayward Ballack header too. As the game reached the latter stages, Chelsea fans were seen heading for the exits. The frustration mounted. Our support was painfully quiet…I had really wanted us to put on a show for John. I felt for him.

Di Santo was playing wide, but wasn’t convincing…play him upfront with Anelka! Nice to see Miro come on, but he hardly touched the ball. However, we all know how it ended. A Kalou cross deep to the far post, a Di Santo knock-down and Belletti headed in at the far post…get in! William Gallas used to score goals like this for fun. We were just so relieved. Phew. At least a point – we deserved it.

Then the news that we had an extra four minutes and the crowd at last responded.

“COME ON CHELS!”

Miro had a great chance…blocked. Hateful. He then put in a great cross…Stoke couldn’t clear, the ball fell to Anelka…blocked…the ball fell to Lamps, who laced it into the net, through the packed penalty area. It was one of those occasions when my head just exploded – I was transported to “another place.” I scrambled up and over my seat to the walkway behind…I climbed up onto the barrier behind and kissed the two ladies “of a certain age” behind me…YEEEESSS! Hugs with everyone close by – high fives with Rousey. The stadium, dormant for so long, had erupted to life.

Just perfect.

“One Step Beyond” came on the PA. It was an amazing finish. In over 450 games at Stamford Bridge I can’t ever remember such two late goals.

This was definitely “bottom of the ninth, 1-0 down, 3-2 count…he swings…it’s outta here!”

A nice feeling as I walked back to the car, but what a shame United eked out a narrow 1-0 win at The Reebok.

I exchanged texts with John, who was still buzzing.

Perfect.

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Tales From The 2008/2009 European Campaign

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Chelsea vs. CFR Cluj : 9 December 2008.

So – with a bit of huffing and puffing, we made it.

I was able to get away from work a little bit earlier than usual. By 3.45pm, I had picked up Parky and his Lucky Crutches from The Pheasant and we were on our way. That extra 15 minutes paid dividends as we were parked up by 6pm. It was constant chatter on the drive up. Non stop – virtually all Chelsea related. Parky dived into his personal treasure chest of Chelsea memories…he mentioned some of the things which Trowbridge Andy ( from Saturday’s jaunt to Bolton ) talked about. Let us not glory in past demeanours, but Parky certainly saw some action back in the old days…he was on the train coming back from Luton in 1975-76 which “somehow” caught fire and he also told a pretty grisly, but also faintly humorous, story about throwing a police dog out of a ( stationary ) train window.

The Goose was temporarily closed, so we met up at the Lillie Langtry, pretty close to West Brompton tube. It was the usual turnout for a CL home game – nice to see the next generation represented in Ed and his increasingly wayward hairstyle ( I’ve got a comb in my bag mate! ) and Milo.

Just time for two pints of Carling, me darling.

Received a call from Beth just as we walked past The Slug at Fulham Broadway. This was her last game of her trip and we agreed to meet up for a drink and meal after. I had Wednesday booked as a holiday and so was in no rush to get back.

Bought a copy of “CFCUK” – a good edition…more than one person questioned the “love” for Anelka and Drogba. Funny – have been thinking the same of late. Personally speaking, I will never forget Drogba’s selfish slouch from the pitch at the Luzhniki in May and I am so very tired of his antics. Anelka seems to be playing reasonably well, but it seems his general demeanour makes it difficult for us fans to get close to him. I don’t think it’s a race issue.

Into the stadium…surprised that 1,500 Romanians were present. It made Bordeaux’ 400 look really paltry. More free scarves. Alan had brought his lucky European wine gums. Mine didn’t work in Moscow, but they usually do. I texted a couple of people that “the wine gums are out” but I think this was misconstrued – I think they thought that I was referring to the demise of Bordeaux. You know who you are – is this true?

We increased momentum and drive as the game progressed and thankfully made it through. The events in Rome were working in our favour, though, so there was never a moment when I felt under real pressure. A snappy goal from Kalou got us on our way, but a lot of our play in the first period was a bit annoying. Yet again, the midfield didn’t seem to want to move for each other to make angles. At one time, the move stagnating, with no movement, I bellowed “MOVE”. You probably heard me in Poughkeepsie and Tallahassee. It didn’t always come off, but at least Joe Cole was involved with runs to lose markers…at least he seemed motivated. Ballack – despite a nice few through balls, didn’t seem too interested…with Frank out, I expected more. I want to see him run our midfield, but he too often hides for my liking. How often do you see him gesturing and demanding the ball, knocking one-twos? Hardly ever.

We missed Frank.

Pete from San Francisco ( who was over for the Roma and Liverpool games in October ) was sitting a few yards away and we met up for a chat at half-time. He is over with work and I will hopefully spend more time with him on Sunday.

For the Expats amongst you, a lovely old Christmas song from 1980 was aired at half-time…Jonah Lewie’s “Stop The Cavalry.” I felt all festive and frosty.

We had a lot of the ball in the scond-half, but – completely against the run of play – Kone scored for Cluj with a great header from a wicked cross. Ho hum.

We made some substitutions…Juliano for Joey, then Drogba for Kalou. I clapped Kaklou off, not so sure about Drogs! Seeing Drogba and Anelka upfront, paired together in a two-pronged attack, I suddenly lost myself for a few moments, fantasising about this ( on paper ) incredible pairing. Who in The World would not want to have these two beggars up front? But still we stick with a 4-3-3. Are we mad not to give this a real go for the rest of the season? Let’s see what Big Phil does. Anelka quite impressed me to be honest – he doesn’t often lose possession. But – oh! – that body language.

A lovely finish from Didier gave us a deserved win…but virtually everybody in the MHU thought it was an own goal. Even when he does score, we can’t love like in days of old!

After the game, Parky and myself met up with Beth outside “Frankies.” I will surely let The Wild One tell the story, but she was not a happy bunny. She had been sat in the front row of the Shed Upper, but a few instances left her fuming…I’ll let Beth tell you all what happened…but she was almost asked to leave! Into “Frankies” for a couple of drinks – this place, which first opened as a Sports Bar in 1997 for regular punters is now an up-market restaurant.

On the site of The Shed. My heart bleeds.

A bit of a natter. Clive Walker called in to chat for a few minutes…1983 and all that. Parky was chuffed. We left there at 11pm, but I am afraid all of the places we tried for food were shutting. I said my “goodbyes” to Beth at Fulham Broadway…”see you in April.”

On the walk up the North End Road, Parky and me nipped into a KFC and it rounded off a good night out. Back home at 2.15am…

Let our 2008-2009 European Campaign roll on.

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Tales From The Blank Saturday

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Chelsea vs. Newcastle United : 22 November 2008

Well, that was a strange one, eh? The weekend that never was.

I have a feeling this won’t be a very extensive match report.

Glenn had to work, Karen had to oversee some builders at her new house, so the Frome Gang Of Five had been clipped to just three – Dave, who drove, PD and me. For someone who doesn’t particularly like driving, Dave made light work of the 110 miles. We were parked up at 11.15am. I shot off down to “Lloyds” in order to meet Beth and Jamie. “Lloyds” is the large bar at the top of the escalators at the Fulham Broadway complex…we used to go there a few years ago…but it gets too busy after 1pm. I’m tempted to use the old Yogi Berra ( or was it Casey Stengel? ) catchphrase…”nobody goes there anymore because it’s too crowded.”

I ordered a pint and a £4 breakfast. Jamie was the first to arrive – she had just got back from the Germany vs. England game in Berlin…had enjoyed Berlin, but was glad to be back in an English-speaking city. This was her last game of her stay in London. Beth arrived at about midday…great to see her again. I gave her my Bordeaux ticket. I’m not going, but Beth will be in good company as Alan and Gary are going. Seems that virtually everyone is going on the Eurostar. It will be like a Chelsea Special. Beth and myself are going to the annual Chelsea Pitch Owners Lunch on Friday – this will be the first ( and possibly only ) official Chelsea function I have attended. I can’t wait – it will be a great day I am sure. Beth passed over a couple of items from the Presidential election for me…one badge had the phrase “Yes We Can” and I did wonder how bizarre it was that Obama had pilfered a Bob The Builder catchphrase. Wasn’t there a Joe the Plumber involved in the election campaign too? Anyone care to explain to me what it all means?

We spoke a little about the presidential campaign, but I felt my eyes glazing over…I bade a fond farewell to Jamie and told Beth I’d see her on Friday.

After calling in on Andy at “The Jolly Maltsters” to pass over Glenn’s ticket to one of his mates, I made it back to The Goose for 1.15pm. It was well-packed and so ordered two pints at the bar. Just as I headed over to join the boys, Mike from NYC was on his way to the bar too. He had flown in for the game – had arrived Heathrow at 9.30am and was going back on Sunday afternoon. Great to see him again. I surely should be on a commission the amount of US trade I drum up for The Goose. Chatted mainly to Mike and my mate Rob, who mentioned that he is thinking about making it over to NY / NJ should Chelsea confirm plans for the American Tour in 2009. The more the merrier.

Rob is a chap I only have got to know over the last year…he lives out past East London and mentioned he tries to go and see as many of the youth games as he can. We spoke about what the club means to us and I understood completely when Rob said that he doesn’t really care about who is or isn’t in the team or who we are meant to be after in the transfer market. He’s Chelsea regardless of any of the on-field stuff. It’s something which goes deep. I’m sure Rob will be at The Bridge forever and a day.

Proper Chelsea.

More ridiculous queues at the turnstiles, so I got in five minutes late. Yes, a very odd game. There is a part of me that thinks that I should say that it was “just one of those games” where we just couldn’t score, despite embarrassingly high possession. But that wouldn’t tell the whole story. I’m writing this after having had the benefit of having read the Sunday paper and so I need to agree with the match reporter…we don’t seem to have a Plan B, especially prevalent at home these days. I don’t understand why Scolari only made two substitutions. I don’t know why Ballack was only given ten minutes. Without Drogba ( who offers a vivid variation to our slow build-up play ) we seem to want to pass pass pass forever. We clearly lack width. Apart from one great run when he came through the middle, Malouda was again poor. And Deco seems to get worse with every passing game.

The Geordies were singing “The Blaydon Races” in their corner. Our noise levels weren’t great. At half-time, former player Chris Garland was introduced to the crowd by Neil Barnett. Garland played in the very first game I ever saw – against Newcastle United in March 1974. He has suffered with Parkinsons in the past and I think he isn’t too bad now. Apart from Liverpool, I think I have seen Newcastle play more times than any other team – we couldn’t even escape each other when we dropped down into the old second division. Our last home league defeat against them was way back in 1986…we have a great record against them.

If we were on top in the first-half, the story of the second-half was really amazing. I think I’d struggle to remember a more one-sided 45 minutes of football. Alan and myself were celebrating “the goal that wasn’t” for what seemed like ages before we realised Joe was offside. Pah. At that point we should have realised it wasn’t to be our day.

As the chances came and went, I stood up, leaning against my seat back – always a sure sign I am not pleased! As always, Alan and myself tried to entice our fellow fans to get behind the team, but The Sleepy Hollow were deathly silent. One passage of play was met with moans, groans and boos and made me very annoyed. In the second-half, a rare Geordie attack was broken up by Anelka ( of all people ) who intercepted the ball, controlled it and laid it off to a defender. This was met with howls of derision…presumably because in the eyes of the fans Anelka shouldn’t be back defending. Some players just can’t win, eh?

I stood up and shouted “don’t have a go at him – he’s back defending – FFS! He’s done well there. You lot make more noise when we do something wrong than when we are playing well.”

I was told to calm down by a bloke. I smiled. But seriously – at times at Chelsea, we hardly applaud a corner, but the boos echo around when a player does something wrong. It’s pathetic. Whereas in around 2000, the West Lower was a bastion of noise, these days they watch in silence. Do I sound like a broken record?

Well, we heard that The Goons had lost and then, as we exited down the stairs we were told Liverpool had only drew. So a tangible bit of relief there.

Villa grabbed a point off United as we sped back home. Thank heavens.

At least it didn’t rain.

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Tales From A Wet And Windy London Town

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Chelsea vs. Sunderland : 1 November 2008.

So – Game Number 701.

The weather was pretty miserable on the drive up from Frome…or “Dodge” ( as in Dodge City ) as a few people now call it…a bit of a Wild West town, we like to think.

It’s the usual drive up to London – through the rugby heartland of SW London, past Twickenham ( England play there ) and the home grounds of Harlequins and London Scottish. As we approach Chelsea, we drive past Queens Club, home of the pre-Wimbledon tennis tournament. We drive along Lillee Road, too – one of the original sites of the F.A.Cup final, way back in the nineteenth century.

I had arranged to rendezvous at the Chelsea Hotel with Bob from Fremont, CA and Jamie from Richmond, VA. We arrived at 11.30am – and I soon spotted Bob outside the Megastore. I had arranged a little treat for Bob and Jamie – Ron Harris used to live near us in the West Country and we got to know him over the last 14 years. I had spoken to him on Tuesday and he was happy to meet them in the hotel bar area. Bob was “in” on this, but Jamie ( this was her first ever Chelsea game ) wasn’t. I waived to Jamie for her to come upstairs to join us.

A “proper” Chelsea welcome!

Glenn and myself chatted to Ron, catching up on a few things, and Bob and Jamie were photographed with Ron. As luck would have it, Bob was able to purchase a Ron Harris testimonial programme from one of the stalls on the Fulham Road – which was duly signed. Ron signed Jamie’s match programme. With these formalities finished, Glenn disappeared off to The Goose, while I popped into the lovely Fox & Pheasant pub, just over the railway bridge. I usually take visitors on a circumnavigation of the ground, pointing out various things, but as the weather was so poor, we headed inside. I did have time to point over to The Butcher’s Hook pub, opposite the main gates, where our club was formed in 1905.

I was kinda falling over myself with “Chelsea Facts” – trying to make Jamie, especially, feel at home. Maybe I should think about pre-printed fact sheets to hand out!

Then the long march down the Fulham Road to Fulham Broadway, then up the North End Road to The Goose. It was packed, everyone squashed together, chatting and drinking. There really is no better place to be. I rentroduced Bob to the members of the Bada Bing Firm, as we humourously ( ? ) call ourselves…Bob had met all of the boys before the ill-fated Carling Cup Final last season. Jamie stayed for one drink, but – not surprisingly – wanted to get inside the ground nice and early. I will be seeing Jamie again at Blackburn and so will be able to bombard her with more Chelsea trivia then!

Bob had been present at the Paul Canoville book signing on Friday and very kindly bought me a signed book. I was well-pleased! I am relishing reading this book – it was shortlisted for the Sports Book Of The Year, but I heard it missed out on the final six. A shame.

Anyway, needless to say that there was the usual barrage of blokey, jokey banter during the two hours ” pre-match.” Bob secured a ticket for the game in Rome on Tuesday – he is travelling out ahead of Alan, Gary and myself, but we are all staying in the same hotel.

Alas, it was soon time to leave the warm confines of the pub. We did up our coats and battled against the elements as we re-traced our steps back towards the ground. I bought Bob the latest copy of CFCUK – an article by Clint Steele struck a chord with me…he requested that we petition the club for a different Chelsea pensioner to lead the team out each week. A fine idea.

As Bob and myself went our seperate ways – “see you in Rome” – he commented that it seemed almost wrong for people to be allowed to have this much fun. I knew exactly what he meant.

I guess you all saw the game. We overpowered Sunderland and completely dominated. Has there ever been a game in which all five Chelsea goals came from virtually inside the six yard box? I have to say, though, after watching the highlights on TV, we did ride our luck…the second goal was offside.

The Shed definitely won the singing – the Matthew Harding seemed quite subdued. I noted a fantastic new banner draped over the Shed balcony…an image of Peter Osgood with the simple message…

“BORN IS THE KING.”

Classy and a lovely tribute.

From a personal perspective, and Alan agreed with me, this game ( once we were 3-0 up ), this seemed like an appetiser ( an anti-pasto ) for the mammoth game in Rome.

Good to see Drogba return.

I took a series of photographs of Frank celebrating his 100th league goal right in front of us. Keep a look out for those on my Facebook page.

Bob texted me ‘training session” and I knew exactly what he meant.

We had heard that the Goons had lost at Stoke – STOKE! As Karen battled against the driving rain on the drive home, Glenn and myself fell asleep in the back seat. I was awoken by the commotion of a Spurs equaliser against Liverpool…only to be bettered by the late winner. Good old Tottenham!

I texted everyone –

“CHELSEA – TOPOTHELEAGUE.”

A lovely result – our goal difference is now superb – and I’m off to Rome on Monday morning.

Life is good. Life is very good.

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