Tales From My Blackburn Scrapbook

Chelsea vs. Blackburn Rovers : 1 November 2023.

Treacherous waters ahead…

But first, we hoped, a little respite in the form of a home tie in the season’s Carabao Cup against Blackburn Rovers. Here was a game that we should win, surely?

This was another early start for me; a 4.30am alarm ahead of a day’s toil that would allow me to pick up my three usual passengers at 2pm. We were all well aware that Storm Ciaran was soon to hit the south of England and so I hoped that the drive up to London would be ahead of the expected rainstorms and gales. I would, we presumed, have all of that to contend with on the return drive home after the game. PD kept saying that the rain was due in London at 9pm.

On the drive towards the capital, the skies to the east and the north were fine, devoid of much cloud, and all very pleasant. However, behind me, in my mirrors, dense grey clouds haunted us most of the way but thankfully did not hit us.

Already through to the quarter finals were Port Vale and Middlesbrough. Could there possibly be a case of me tempting fate by writing about Port Vale in my previous match report? Should we get through later in the evening, an away game at Vale Park would undoubtedly be my favourite draw. The last time we played them was in 1929, almost a century ago. Alternatively, Ipswich Town would be decent; Portman Road is a ground that I am yet to visit. Alternatively, an away game in Newcastle or in Middlesbrough or in Liverpool or in Manchester would severely test me. Ouch.

At just after 5pm, I trotted into “The Rylston” to join up with PD and Parky, who I had dropped off forty minutes earlier. They were with Salisbury Steve’s mate Sam. I ordered some food and we chatted a little about the club at the moment. I could not lie; I told the boys that I honestly wondered if we would – could? – pick up a single point from the next treacherous six league games. I stayed in “The Rylston” for an hour and then an hour was spent in “Simmons” where there was a little pre-match meet-up between some friends from the US. I enjoyed a natter with Nick from California, Tim from Texas and Kim from California. I left the bar just after 7pm and was amazed, but pleased, that the rain had not yet hit.

Tickets for this game were back at the £26 level. Well done Chelsea.

Blackburn Rovers, eh? It has been a while.

In fact, the last time that we had met them was the weekend before a certain game in Munich in 2012, a narrow 2-1 win. In that game, we wore the 2012/13 kit and I hoped that it would not be worn in Munich. I did not like the precedent of the 2008/9 shirt being worn in Moscow. On that day, we thought that we had seen the last of Didier Drogba at Chelsea. After the game, the FA Cup was paraded and Roy Bentley made the Matthew Harding laugh with his antics. It was a lovely day, almost dreamlike from this point in time in a little less optimistic 2023.

Blackburn Rovers were relegated that season and have been battling to get back to the top flight ever since. They suffered relegation to League One – I still like to call it Division Three – in 2016/17 but were promoted the very next season.

I used to like going up to Ewood Park. On a few occasions I travelled up with my Rovers mate Mark, including my first visit in 1994/95, a 1-2 loss. There was a game in 1995/96 when I watched with my mate Alan in the home seats when we lost 0-3 and we were immediately sussed when we didn’t spring to our feet when Rovers’ first goal went in. In more hostile environments, we would not have got off quite so lightly.

There was the Gianfranco Zola debut in 1996/97 when Chelsea completely filled the lower section of the away end, but also had some fans in the top tier too, a healthy 4,000 in total. A fine game ended 1-1 on that occasion.

There was a game that I watched with Mark in a hospitality suite in 1997/98 as guests of a supplier for the toiletries company that we worked for. Until the opener this season, it is the only Chelsea game where I have “gone corporate” and it was an odd experience. The two of us had watched a Rovers vs. Villa game from the same hospitality suite the previous season too.

I have been up there eleven times in total, but all at the redeveloped Ewood Park, none at the original version. I missed the two most famous away games up there in recent years; the 4-3 win in 1998/99 and the 1-0 win in 2004/5, both mid-week games and difficult for me to reach.

The last time that I saw a game at Ewood with Mark was in 2003/04. By then Chelsea were the un-loved money men where once Blackburn Rovers held that mantle. One wonders if the media would have been so against Jack Walker and Roman Abramovich had their monies gone to more favoured teams on Fleet Street. I think we know the answer to that question.

Arguably our most famous game ever with them was the FA Cup Semi-Final at Old Trafford in 2007, a nice 2-1 win.

Of course there have been plenty of games at Stamford Bridge too. The first one for me was the opening game of 1988/89 when our terraces were closed due to the near riot against Middlesbrough. On that day, just 8,722 saw us lose 1-2. Depressing times.

I also remember the last game of 1995/96, a 2-3 loss, but acknowledged by everyone at Chelsea as the game in which the fans played a major role in determining the next Chelsea manager. Glenn Hoddle was to take over as England manager from Terry Venables and according to the English press, Ken Bates’ mind was full of George Graham as the replacement. The Chelsea choir had other ideas.

“You can stick George Graham up your arse.”

We serenaded Ruud Gullit that Sunday afternoon. He was soon named as our manager. Job done.

I was inside Stamford Bridge at around 7.15pm.

Still no rain.

Rovers only had 3,000 having turned down the chance to have more. This surprised me somewhat. On the Shed balcony were two away flags. One simply said “Darwen BRFC” and I quickly messaged Mark. It is his home town. It was Mark who first spoke to me about Adidas designer Gary Aspden – himself a native of Darwen – about his collaborations with the sportswear giant and the Spezial range especially. It was his story which eventually lead me to tracking down Carlos Ruiz at his incredible shop in Buenos Aires in 2020.

Just before kick-off, a brief flurry of texts.

Chris : “Good luck.”

Mark : “Not expecting much.”

Chris : “That’s OK. Neither am I.”

Good God, that Rovers away kit was shite.

Us?

Nice to see Benoit Badiashile back in the team. Reece James was starting again. Enzo back. Jackson too. And “Les”. No Mudryk.

Sanchez

James – Disasi  – Badiashile – Cucarella

Ugochukwu – Enzo – Gallagher

Palmer – Jackson – Sterling

The Rovers team included solidly British and Irish names such as Brittain, Hill, Carter, Pickering Wharton, Travis, Moran, Garrett and Leonard, whoever they were.

I used to be able to name the Blackburn Rovers team, nay squad. Sigh.

At least I recognised their exotic-sounding manager Jan Dahl Tomasson, who once briefly played for Newcastle United among others.

As the game kicked off, I presumed that the folk from Blackburn, Darwen, Accrington, Rawtenshall, Oswaldtwistle, Clayton-le-Moors and Ramsbottom would be singing songs throughout the evening about Burnley Football Club.

It’s their thing.

The game started.

Still no rain.

We were treated to a very rare occurrence at the kick-off as Enzo pumped the ball up towards Nicolas Jackson who got a shot in from an angle within ten seconds of the whistle.

It was a decent enough start, though it hardly got our pulses racing. Unsurprisingly, the away team were in no mood to attack and aimed to soak up pressure. Raheem Sterling, away in the far corner, cut inside and there was a strong penalty appeal as he tangled with a defender. Enzo then released James down the right but his shot was low and straight at the Rovers’ ‘keeper.

Our play deteriorated a little and there were some moans around us. Rovers tried to get in the game but their attacks were rare. The noise, even from the away support, was not great. The three of us – PD, Alan and I – sat with our arms crossed. We must have looked as grumpy as hell.

There was an easy save from Robert Sanchez down below us as Rovers threatened a little.

At last, something to cheer us up; we witnessed a sublime spin and turn from Cole Palmer on the half-way line. In fact, it was Palmer who produced most of the pleasing play in the opening period. His touch, skill and awareness was a constant treat. Enzo set up James again, and our right back advanced to find space but his low shot was drilled low and eventually wide of the far post. A fine shimmy from Enzo allowed him to create space but his weak shot was kept out by the Blackburn ‘keeper.

On the half-hour, a short corner was worked well – for once – and Conor Gallagher lofted a cross into the six-yard box. The ‘keeper flapped at it and the ball fell towards a Chelsea player.

I snapped with my SLR.

In it flew.

Who was the scorer? Ah, the returnee.

Badia – Badia – Bing.

We were 1-0 up.

Alan : “THTCAUN.”

Chris : “COMLD.”

The Matthew Harding reprised one of its current songs.

“Todd Boehly went to France…”

I found it reassuring when I heard Alan solemnly comment that he refuses to sing that song. I refuse to do so too. I would feel uncomfortable singing that man’s name, giving him some sort of recognition.

I have already heard enough from Todd Boehly to regard him as a fool.

The away team mustered up a late effort on goal in a rather dull first-half, but Andrew Moran’s effort faded past Sanchez’ far post. Our ‘keeper had completed a couple of Word Search puzzles in that first-half.

At 9pm, as PD predicted, rain.

There was a slight scare at the very start of the second period when an early Chelsea attack broke down and Rovers attacked down the right. Harry Leonard just about kept ahead of the chasing pack but his shot was hit meekly wide, with the watching three-thousand away supporters no doubt trying to suck the ball in.

We improved in the second-half.

I loved an early through-ball that Enzo pushed forward early and into space. Two Chelsea players attacked the ball but the chance evaporated. But I loved this variation to the tap tap tap of balls being pushed around for the sake of it.

Sterling started to dazzle and he set up Enzo, who again left his shooting boots at home, a tame effort straight at the ‘keeper. It was then Palmer’s turn to shake off a defender with some fancy dancing, and he created an angled shot that flew over via the ‘keeper’s fingertips.

On the hour, the two players then combined, Palmer stealing the ball from a Rovers defender and feeding it inside to Sterling, who curled a fine shot into the goal, clipping it around the closest defender. It’s becoming his trademark goal. I snapped that one too

Get in.

[thinking : “Vale away next please”]

We had heard that West Ham were beating Arsenal, Newcastle were winning at Old Trafford. My mind drifted a little as I played with various scenarios. We had all admitted pre-match that getting to a League Cup Final, or even a semi-final, with this current team and squad in its current state of health and mind would indeed be something to celebrate.

What’s that saying about cutting cloth accordingly?

Once proud Chelsea, serial-winners, getting excited about a League Cup Final?

Yes. Absolutely.

It’s amazing how a – relatively – poor spell re-jigs expectations and aspirations. I think most of my close mates would kill for a stint in the Europa Conference next season.

A couple of substitutions.

Malo Gusto for James.

Levi Colwill for Badiashile.

We could relax a little now. Sterling set up Jackson who lazily blasted over. He was not having a great game. There was more trickery from Palmer and a low shot from outside the box. The ball took a deflection en route and hit the base of the post. A low shot from Gallagher went just wide. We were treated to The Sterling Show, with one mazy dribble into the heart of the Rovers’ penalty box drawing gasps from us all.

Two more substitutions.

Moises Caicedo for Jackson.

Noni Madueke for Palmer.

The away team broke through our ranks but the strong fist of Sanchez thwarted the low shot from the substitute Sigurdsson.

It stayed 2-0.

A much better second-half, with Sterling excellent.

On the walk back to the car, the rain continued, but the drive back to Wiltshire and Somerset was not as bad, truthfully, as on Saturday. However, the road near my house was even more flooded than on Saturday so I avoided it and quickly adjusted the last half-a-mile. I reached home at 12.45am.

Oh, another home draw, awaits us in the Quarter-Finals; Newcastle United.

Vale Park will have to wait until the Semi-Final.

Next up…groan…Tottenham away on Monday evening.

See you there.

1988/89

1995/96

1996/97

1997/98

2003/04

2011/12

2023/24

Tales From The Black And The Orange

Blackburn Rovers vs. Chelsea : 30 October 2010.

It’s hard to believe now, but for quite a while, Blackburn Rovers were a bogey side for Chelsea Football Club. I’m pretty sure that it took us 16 years to defeat them at home in the league, from a 4-1 win in the play-offs in 1988 to a 4-0 win in 2004. Away from home, they were equally difficult to beat. I wasn’t present at the memorable 4-3 game at Ewood in 1998 and so, in total, it took me a staggering 15 games before I physically saw us defeat Rovers. From August 1988 to February 2004 the run went on and on and it never looked like ending…the first six matches all resulted in Chelsea defeats. Yes, it was as bad as that. It’s interesting to note that I’m talking about two interlinked worlds here…our complete record through the years, but also the games that I have witnessed. From a personal perspective, the latter always seems more pertinent. I guess it’s all of the emotional and financial involvement that I put into attending Chelsea games. I guess that’s natural.

My mate Mark is a Blackburn Rovers fan and I accompanied him to Ewood Park on four occasions from 1995 to 2004. For the first three occasions, we watched from the main stand on Nuttall Street, and it was difficult for me not to get behind the team as I was surrounded by Blackburn fans. In 1995, Mark gravely miscalculated on the dates which he had promised his then girlfriend a weekend away and so his ticket became available and my Chelsea mate Alan joined me in the Nuttall Street stand. Unfortunately, we lost 3-0 and were atrocious. This proved to be the late David Rocastle’s last ever game for us. Of course, Rovers were rampant at that time and Graeme Le Saux was firing in crosses for Alan Shearer and Chris Sutton. Every time Rovers scored, Alan and myself remained glumly sat and we were easily sussed. I think there was a little playful banter from the cheering Rovers fans by the time the last goal was scored. I’ve never had any problems at Ewood, though. Because of my friendship with Mark, I don’t mind them.

I left home at 7.45am and, with a coffee to perk me up, soon got into the groove. In an attempt to save some money, I had prepared some food for the day ahead. My bag was laden with provisions which Scott of the Antarctic would have been proud. As I headed through Writhlington, I spotted fellow Chelsea fan Terry leaving a corner shop, clutching a few morning groceries. I slowed down and yelped “I’m off to Blackburn” and smiles were exchanged.

The Style Council were running through their greatest hits on my trusty CD player and Paul Weller was in good voice.

“We’re gonna shout to the top.”

As I ate up the miles, I thought of the plans for the next clutch of games and tended to focus on the up-coming game at Anfield. That’s always one of the highlights of our season these days. The M5 around Gloucester and Cheltenham was edged with vibrant yellows and warm reds – by the time of that Liverpool game, the Autumn colours should be at their photogenic best. The sky was clear and the weather looked great, but I couldn’t believe that there wouldn’t be rain in Lancashire at some stage.

There are towns throughout England which are synonymous with certain types of industry – I can think of shipbuilding in Sunderland, pottery in Stoke-On-Trent, steel in Sheffield, lace-making in Nottingham, glass manufacture in Rotherham, fishing in Grimsby, shoes in Northampton, beer in Burton and textiles in Manchester and Leeds. Blackburn is also one of those towns which owe its growth during the industrial revolution to textiles and I’m sure the town was dominated by cotton mills at the time of the formation of its football club in the last quarter of the nineteenth century. Rovers were one of the original members of the Football League and, growing up, we occasionally played them in the old second division. However, it was steel magnate Jack Walker who put the town on the map in the early ‘nineties. He invested millions in his boyhood team and oversaw a mini-Abramovich revolution in central Lancashire. Until then, Blackburn was probably more memorable for a brief mention in a Beatles song.

“I heard the news today, oh boy. Four thousand holes in Blackburn, Lancashire.”

Well, on this particular “Day In The Life”, there would be nigh-on 4,000 Chelsea in Blackburn, Lancashire.

“On Boy” indeed.

At Frankley Services, just south of Birmingham, I spotted a young lad wearing a Blackburn shirt – the first of the day. I also had a quick chat with Chelsea fan from Abergavenny in South Wales. He’s a season-ticket holder too and attends games at The Bridge with his wife and this involves a 300 mile round trip every fortnight. Fair play to them.

I called in at Stafford to collect Julie and Burger at 10am and we were soon on our way up the M6. Like me, they are looking forward to the Anfield game and it will be a first-time visit for them. I very briefly ran through a list of attractions to see in Liverpool – stop sniggering at the back – and I’m sure they will enjoy themselves. Our talk again centred on our views of fandom and how Chelsea appear to be a special club, to our biased eyes at least.

Up and over one last hill and Blackburn was visible in the valley below.

At midday, I found a safe place to park my Peugeot 207 and we soon found our way to The Fernhurst, one of the first ‘away fans only’ pubs in England. The sun was out, but the temperature was surprisingly cold in the shadows. I think we only took about 2,500 up to Ewood on that miserable Sunday in March last season. However, we had heard that we had sold over 3,500 for this encounter. Chelsea had returned some tickets and so that there would be that very rare entity of away tickets being sold on the day of the game. In The Fernhurst car park, it certainly felt like a big turnout. A few flags were pinned up, including a new one involving the words to the Celery Song and a silhouette of a nubile young girl getting “tickled.” I spotted a Chelsea / Rangers flag and more than a few Scottish accents. Groups of familiar faces were huddled in small groups and there was a general hub-bub of conversation. Bizarrely, two mounted policemen arrived on the scene and positioned themselves in the far corner. The only crimes being committed involved the wanton crushing underfoot of tens of plastic pints on the car park floor.

Burger and me had a couple of Thwaites bitters for a change – a local brew – which went down well. At just after 2pm, we drifted off to the ground. I took Julie and Burgs around to the far corner to take a few photographs of the Jack Walker Memorial. Blackburn had lost their famous player Ronnie Clayton the previous day and there were a few bouquets of flowers at the base of the statue of Jack Walker. During the redevelopment of Ewood Park, a famous old turnstile entrance ( memorably used during a famous commercial in the ‘seventies ), was demolished. However, the brickwork involving the words “Rovers FC” was saved and this is incorporated into the memorial. There is a fountain amidst the red brick and it really works well.

Burger wanted to get his flag up so we entered the ground at about 2.15pm. They were in the upper tier, but my seat was right behind the goal in the lower tier… half Rovers, half Chelsea. I took a few photos of the players in their warm-up…first Petr Cech going through his drills with Hilario and the goalkeeping coach, then the rest of the squad joined in at 2.30pm. A few stretches, a few shots, but then some sprinting drills in front of the Riverside Stand to our right. I noted that as late as 2.40pm, only four thousand spectators were inside the stadium. This is so different to days gone by. Often The Shed was pretty full as early as an hour before kick-off and the ground would be reverberating to Chelsea songs. At Ewood in 2010, things were pretty quiet. Just before the game began, the inevitable rain, but – for once – it soon subsided. On this Halloween Eve, we wore the black and orange kit.

Ronnie Clayton was remembered.

RIP.

I was happy to see Ivanovic back on the right side of the defence. We began well and controlled the first ten minutes, knocking the ball around with ease. An early Drogba header was our only threat, though. Then, for the rest of the first period, Blackburn dominated and our support grew increasingly restless. Our defence was breached on a number of occasions in a ten minute spell, with Benjani the main threat. On one occasion, Petr Cech slipped just as a deft chip was dropping into the net. Thankfully, Petr recovered superbly well and palmed the ball over. In attack, we seemed to be too leaden-footed, too willing to take an extra touch, unwilling to play the ball quickly. Mikel was doing well to hold things together, but the rest of the team were underperforming.

Then, calamity. El Hadji Diouf was pulling the strings on Blackburn’s left and his perfect cross found the leaping Benjani at the far post. Despite JT’s best efforts, his leap was unchallenged and his powerful header flew into the net, just inside the post, right at me.

Groans.

We rarely threatened during the rest of that first period and the away support was pretty quiet.

After a Blackburn attack, Cech spotted the opportunity for a quick break. His sliced kick immaculately found Malouda on the left and I immediately wondered if that is what he had intended. Cech’s kicking is one of his weaker attributes. However, Malouda soon gathered the ball and sent over a long ball towards Didier. His headed knock down was perfect for the unrushing Anelka to prod the ball past Robinson.

Get in.

As I jumped around like a fool, I shouted – “I love that route one football.”

We had weathered the storm. We surely couldn’t play as poorly as in the second period, could we?No, of course we couldn’t.

With Chelsea attacking an increasingly involved away support of 4,000, our mood changed. We had a lot more of the ball, though if I am honest I can’t put my finger on what Ancelotti said at the break to warrant the improvement. I thought that the pairing of Ashley Cole and Yuri Zhirkov were the biggest improvement. The home support sensed Ashley’s threat as they quickly serenaded him with a ditty about his ex-wife.

It was Cole who had the best chance of the half when the ball zipped across the box towards him, but he sliced his effort wide of Robinson’s right post. Drogba was in a strange mood again though and I think he isn’t 100% fit. He seemed half-hearted. As the game drew on, we heard that Manchester City were losing 2-1 at Molyneux and so it would be very frustrating if we couldn’t capitalise. Shots from Zhirkov and spritely substitute Sturridge flew past the goal.

If I am honest, I was always confident our superior quality would tell. However, what a shock from that late Blackburn attack when the ball was deftly played into the lurking Jason Roberts. He shimmied past the last defender and we stood, as one, expecting the worst.

His shot flew past the post and thousands of home fans put their heads in their hands. The Chelsea section, however, roared.

Very soon after, a period of sustained Chelsea pressure ensued and the ball was worked out to the Russian. Zhirkov was faced with a couple of robust Blackburn henchmen in his way, but he nimbly created a yard of space and deftly dug out an inch-perfect cross towards Ivanovic on the far post. Time seemed to stand still as the ball hung in the air. The powerful Ivanovic was waiting. We all saw the gaps in the goal, each side of Robinson. We all jumped with Ivanovic and his crashing downward header filled us with joy as the ball hit the back of the net.

Delirium once again – another last minute winner – and the away end exploded. Several fans rushed past me down the aisle and I bounced around, hugging Mark and Gary, our faces aching with joy. In a croaking voice, a red-faced Alan spoke –

“They’ll have to come at us now.”

And I replied –

“Come on my little diamonds.”

The ignominy of 1995 and that woeful 3-0 loss, plus all those others, were forgotten and we could celebrate amongst our own now. The Chelsea choir responded with our very unique song, born in 2005 but now resurrected –

“That’s Why We’re Champions.”

Phew – all was well with the world, but we all knew we had ridden our luck against a defiant home team. We soon reminded the Blackburn Rovers support of the day’s events –

“One Nil, And You F***ed It Up.”

I took a few photos of the celebrating Chelsea players as I edged my way out of the Darwen End. The joy and emotion in JT’s face is always uplifting and it was wonderful to see that our elation was matched by theirs.

We’re in it together, after all.

After a slow start amongst bumper-to-bumper match traffic, we soon found our way back to the southbound M6. Burger spent a while looking through my photo album from the memorable 1996-1997 season and he made the point about how many players from the team at Wembley have gone into management and coaching – namely Dan Petrescu, Steve Clarke, Dennis Wise, Roberto Di Matteo, Eddie Newton, Mark Hughes, Gianfranco Zola and the substitute Gianluca Vialli. That’s pretty impressive numbers. We were to eventually hear that both United and Arsenal would win, but title challengers Manchester City were now a massive eight points adrift. And it’s only October. I said “adios” to The Burgers at 7pm, knowing that we would inevitably meet up at Liverpool next Sunday. I then continued my homeward journey, listening to “606”, featuring incandescent Tottenham fans, as I went. I gorged myself on a smorgasbord of curry slices, tuna and sweet corn sandwiches, cinnamon whirls, a Red Bull, a McDonalds coffee and a bumper pack of Maynard’s wine gums. Passing through Bristol city centre, I spotted a few local girls ( with accents that could curdle milk ) in Halloween face paint and, for many, it was an improvement.

“Alright, my luvver?”

I reached home at 9.45pm and I soon watched the highlights on “MOTD.” I briefly spotted myself in the build up to our winner as the ball hung in the air ahead of Brana’s header. It’s hard to believe that we have played ten games in the league, yet have only conceded a miserly three goals. That’s pretty phenomenal, yet nobody in the media has noted this. I’m going to suggest that our great defensive record is largely due to the fantastic shield that Mikel gives our back four. Along with Ivanovic, I’d suggest he has been our most consistent performer this season.

I quickly worked out that ‘my’ overall record against those pesky Rovers is now a much more respectable 10-7-10. That’s more like it.

And so we march on.

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