Chelsea vs. Djurgarden : 8 May 2025.

What of our Europa Conference semi-final second leg against Djurgarden of Sweden?

The build-up had been good. We had secured three consecutive victories in the league versus Fulham, Everton and Liverpool, and beat the Swedes 4-1in the away leg. We were facing a very exciting end to the 2024/25 season, with a European trophy and European places in our sights.

Right after the Djurgarden game at Stamford Bridge, there would be a four-day visit to Newcastle-upon-Tyne for the three of us, our favourite away game of them all. It didn’t take me long to work out that it would be pointless for me to return home to Somerset after the game at The Bridge and then drive north after minimal sleep during the day on Friday, battling heavy traffic all the way. Instead, I decided to plan to set off from Fulham on Thursday night and drive through the night to reach Tyneside in the small hours. PD and Parky were more than happy with this idea.

Once I had completed a 6am to 2pm shift at work on Thursday, after getting up at 4.30am, I collected the two lads from Parky’s house and pointed my car due east.

From the very start of my trip to London, it felt that the game against Djurgarden was a deviation, a bump in the road maybe, on my way to Newcastle.

And that felt strange.

I dropped the lads off at the bottom end of Fulham, after driving down the Fulham Palace Road and Fulham High Street, then edged north up through those famous streets, in our eyes, the streets that lead us to SW6; Fulham Road, Munster Road, Dawes Road, Lillee Road, Rylston Road. I remembered my Aunt Zena, on a visit to Somerset in her ‘eighties in 1994, when she mentioned that she once lived on Estcourt Road, as it met Rylston Road, and I loved the fact that I had a distant familial link to SW6, my faraway playground since 1974.

I popped into “Café Koka” near The Goose and quickly scoffed some tasty prawns and a summer salad.

Here we go :

“Memory Lane Café Number One.”

Chelsea vs. Sheffield Wednesday : Monday 6 May 1985.

I travelled down to this game by train on the Bank Holiday Monday. This would be a continuation of our very real rivalry against Sheffield Wednesday which had caught fire the previous season and had continued in the Milk Cup in 1985. Before the game, I took a few photographs of the stadium from the Fulham Road for a change. Needless to say, these have ended up on a few football stadium sites over the years. Chelsea conceded a goal via Mark Smith, but two strikes from Kerry Dixon gave us the share of the points. After the mammoth gates in previous games with Wednesday, I was hugely disappointed that just 17,085 were at this match.

I was feeling a bit weary, so popped into “Café Ole” for a lovely cappuccino.

“Memory Lane Café Number Two.”

Chelsea vs. Luton Town : Wednesday 8 May 1985.

Yes, dear reader, a second game at Stamford Bridge in just three days, the result of many postponements in a very icy winter. I did not attend this game, probably not surprisingly, but Chelsea won 2-0 with goals from Kerry Dixon and Pat Nevin, Sadly, the gate was just 13,789.

What with these stops on the way down the North End Road, I decided there would not be time to pop down to “The Eight Bells”, so I chatted to a few folks outside the ground and made my way in for 7.30pm. On the way in, I took a photo of a Union Jack flying on the Oswald Stoll, on a day that marked the eightieth anniversary of VE Day.

I made the mistake of mentioning to a couple of friends in The Sleepy Hollow that “they don’t seem to have brought many.” With thirty minutes to go to kick-off, there were only around four-hundred away fans in the far corner.

Then, ten minutes later, a very odd thing happened, and it was the precursor to the night’s “entertainment”. Around fifty away fans, lodged in the East Middle suddenly decided to hop over the fence between both stands and join up with the now growing number of Djurgarden supporters on the Shed Upper. I began to wonder how many Swedish supporters would be sitting in the home areas.

I had seen our team being shared on my phone while in the second café, and the presence of young Reggie Walsh was good to see. In a way, the often-maligned manager Enzo Maresca would be hammered for whatever team he picked for this second leg, with the boys already 4-1 up in the tie, our biggest first-leg lead in any semi-final surely?

This was the team he chose.

Jorgensen

Gusto – Tosin – Badiashile – Acheampong

James – Cucarella

Dewsbury-Hall – Walsh – Sancho

George

A quote about “playing all the right players but not necessarily in the right positions” came to mind.

Alan had a lovely story from Stockholm the previous Wednesday. He was staying with Pete in a hotel very close to the stadium, and they heard that the players were going through some training drills in the evening. Pete’s son works for the club in the youth section. Alan managed to get pitch side and took some lovely photos with a few of the players. I knew that Reggie Walsh was a local lad, but Alan told me that he grew up as a kid on Dawes Road, one of the famous streets that I mentioned earlier.

That resonated with me.

He must be our must local lad since Jodie Morris, the North End Road, and Alan Hudson, Upcerne Road.

At ten minutes to eight, the three Chelsea songs boomed out.

“Blue Is The Colour.”

“Parklife.”

“Liquidator.”

By now, I had fully comprehended the scale of the invasion. There were maybe one thousand Djurgarden fans in the West Upper towards The Shed, and around five hundred towards the Matthew Harding. Throughout the night, we spotted hundreds in the East Upper, the East Middle, the West Lower, the West Middle. A conservative guess might well be three thousand in the away allocation and three thousand in the home areas. And they were making a hell of a racket.

I shouted down to JD : “like Tottenham in the West Stand in 1982”.

In a nutshell, this was the biggest show of away supporters that I had ever seen in the home areas at Stamford Bridge. It was, of course, all rather humiliating.

Next, the entrance of the teams, and the Conference League anthem which still reminds me of “Baltimora” by Tarzon Boy, a hit in 1985…don’t ask.

I noticed that there was a small block of Chelsea supporters waving blue and white bar scarves in the middle section of The Shed. At the time, I presumed that these were giveaways from a corporate lounge somewhere in the bowels of the stadium but I would later learn that this was part of a “We Are The Shed” initiative.

With the away fans booming their chants from The Shed and the West Upper, there was a surreal atmosphere to the match, and this was enhanced by the deep purple clouds massing above the East Stand.

The Djurgarden crowd set off a few white flares.

The game began but struggled to come to life. It was a plodding performance from us, no doubt borne out of the first leg result in Sweden.

Jadon Sancho, in a blistering turn of pace down the left, had me excited for more, and a lovely touch by Tyrique George was a joy to see. But these were rare gems on a night that really struggled to get going.

There were chances from George and Keirnan Dewsbury Hall, with Reggie Walsh looking neat and tidy. His playing style reminded me of Billy Gilmour.

The goal on thirty-eight minutes was the highlight of the first half. Tosin Adarabioyo played a long ball to George, who neatly took it under control and quickly moved it forward to Dewsbury-Hall. He tuned inside and adeptly scored via the post.

I think that it is very safe to say that of all the 2,733 Chelsea goals that I have seen scored live, few were celebrated so tepidly.

And there was a very subdued “THTCÅUN / CÖMLD” from Alan and me too.

However, we were now 5-1 up.

The first half continued with an array of half-chances, blocks and easy saves, of which Filip Jorgensen made one, a nice reaction save from a deflected shot.

We were keeping an eye on the other semi-final tie, and both Alan and I preferred Real Betis to Fiorentina.

“Those Italians can be a naughty bunch.”

At the break, Shimmy Mheuka took over from Marc Cucurella and the troops were shuffled around.

On fifty-one minutes, a riser from a Djurgarden player was aimed right at Jorgensen, and then three minutes later there was a shot from the very same place on the pitch that was deflected for a corner. Between these two chances for the visitors, Dewsbury-Hall forced a save with a strong header.

Then, in a lively spell, Jorgensen saved well from a close header, and then George displayed some great skill to create some space but shot wildly over.

A cross from Sancho, but George was unable to finish from close in, but offside anyway. This second half was much improved.

Djurgarden went just wide, and their support took turns to bark out their team name.

The Shed one moment, the West Upper the next.

“DJURGARDEN! DJURGARDEN!”

This riled our support and – at bloody last – Stamford Bridge made some noise.

Another shot for Dewsbury-Hall. I think I counted five efforts from him during the game. He was, surely, our most effective player, there, I said it.

On seventy minutes, Jorgensen tipped over another riser at The Shed End.

Then, two substitutions.

Trevoh Chalobah for Reece James, Genesis Antwi for Sancho.

Not long after, Josh Acheampong shot just over after a fine assist from Antwi. Late on, a shot from distance from Walsh, who I was glad to see got the full ninety minutes, and then one final effort from Gusto, over.

In previous years, in 1998, in 2008, in 2012, in 2013, in 2019, in 2021, there were massive celebrations on reaching a UEFA Final.

Not so in 2025.

This is a weird competition this one, and it had been, undoubtedly, a so-so game.

But we’re on our way to Wroclaw, to play Real Betis, and I am sure we will have a blast.

As I walked along Dawes Road, I could hear the booming noise of the Djurgarden support way back at Fulham Broadway, and I silently commended them for their ingenuity and fanaticism but can’t wait to hear what the club say about this massive breach of security.

I would not be surprised to hear that many tickets were sold via our co-owner’s company.

If so, that’s bloody shameful.

I turned into Rylston Road, then drove along Lillee Road to collect Paul and Parky.

I pointed my car towards the North End Road and began the long drive to Tyneside.

“Memory Lane Café Number One.”