Chelsea vs. Leeds United : 9 September 2026.

Here was yet another trip to London, the fifth in a run of eight Chelsea matches, all in the capital. On this Wednesday night, neatly sandwiched between two league games, we were playing a League Cup tie at home to our old adversaries Leeds United. Additionally, here was a condensed stretch of three trips to London in just seven days.

PD came up with me for this match. After parking up on Rylston Road, I spotted friends Liz and Long Tall Pete in “Vanston Cafe” at the bottom end of the North End Road and joined them for a bite to eat. This was a first visit for me; I wolfed down a chicken schnitzel burger, and two of Pete’s spicey chicken goujons for good measure too. Tasty food – recommended!

I spent some time with PD and Salisbury Steve at “The Eight Bells” where it was lovely and quiet, and we had a good natter. News of the starting eleven came through as we made our way up the steep steps at Putney Bridge tube station.

Xabi Alonso had certainly rung the changes.

Mike Penders

Josh Acheampong – Maxence Lacroix – Levi Colwill

Malo Gusto – Reggie Watson – Valentin Barco – Pep Chavarria

Estevao Willian – Danny Welbeck – Jamie Gittens

A debut, then, for young Reggie, at just sixteen and-a-half years old. A lad young enough to be my grandson if I had originated from Liverpool.

Gulp.

That’s a gulp for me coming from Liverpool, not him being my grandson.

Alas, there were delays on the District Line, with trains being held in both directions, and this resulted in us waiting on the northbound platform for over half-an-hour. More than a few Leeds fans disappeared off to find buses, cabs and Ubers. We decided to wait it out. At last, we just about squeezed on a train at just after 7.30pm. On the way to Fulham Broadway, we heard that the kick-off had been delayed for fifteen minutes. Outside the West Stand, I had never seen so many folks lining up to enter. Delaying until 8.15pm was a sensible move.

I made it to my seat at 7.55pm.

There were rumours of an incident at South Ken, but Alan had also heard of trouble at High Street Ken. I wondered if some Everton supporters had finally appeared after being chased down the tunnels at that station in 1978.

Stamford Bridge never looked like being full on this Wednesday night.

However, the Sleepy Hollow was in full force for this match; me, Alan, Clive, PD sitting cheek-by-jowl. Long Tall Pete was in the row in front. Perhaps he was looking for his two chicken goujons. Pete, like many, had been displaced from The Shed by the four thousand visitors from Yorkshire.

I smirked when I saw three thousand of them in the Shed Upper massed behind signage that proclaimed “World Champions.”

“No, not you.”

The teams took to the pitch.

Chelsea in blue / blue / white.

Leeds in yellow / black / yellow.

This was an odd choice from them; if it had been blue shorts, they would have not looked so alien. Their club colours from time immemorial are white, yellow and blue.

The game began with us attacking their supporters in The Shed. Soon into the game, they began their choruses of a few favourites.

“All Leeds aren’t we?”

“We are Leeds, we are Leeds, we are Leeds.”

We edged the first part of the match. There was a decent run by Gittens on the left, and into the penalty box, but his shot was parried by ‘keeper Michael Zetterer, whoever he might be. This was followed up by some nice play between some blue shirts, but a shot was blocked. The visitors were sloppy with their passing and gave the ball away cheaply in the first quarter of an hour.

Despite the noise emanating from The Shed, he Matthew Harding – which had been virtually silent – decided to mock the away support for their support.

This was pure irony.

Pure pantomime.

I suspect that Leeds had sold virtually all their allotted tickets, and these were probably priced more than the standard £30 for league games. I would have liked to have heard more from our loyalists but there were only sporadic outbursts from the home areas.

Sigh.

On twenty minutes the game came to life. A long throw from the far side was not dealt with, and Brenden Aaronson latched on to a loose ball. Penders blocked well from close range but was then able to spring to his feet to push over a header from Tarik Muharemovic.

From my angle, the saves looked spectacular.

I gasped “that’s almost the best I’ve seen up here” to Alan.

Penders pushed the ball behind from the resultant corner, but from the next one, we witnessed a different story. The ball was pumped long, and despite the close attention of three Chelsea defenders, Muharemovic climbed at the back stick and looped a header back over Penders who had wandered into no man’s land.

I saw the ball cross the line, but there was an eery silence for half-a-second until a) the Leeds fans saw the reactions of their players and b) the noise travelled the one-hundred and twenty yards to my lugholes.

Bollocks.

CFC 0 LUFC 1

Leeds, with their tails up, then dominated the game. On twenty-six minutes, a fine run and cross into the box, and we were lucky to escape. Three minutes later, a one-two and a strong run and cross by Danny James on their right, and the ball fell to Sean Longstaff, but he rushed his shot and the ball flew over.

Leeds were impressing me with their all-round play. We were second best all over the pitch.

On thirty-six minutes, the much-maligned Gusto did not spot the run from deep from Estevao and chose not to pass into space to allow the Brazilian the chance to advance. What followed was a pitiful display of “woe-is-me” histrionics from the youngster, and when he threw his arms up in a show of indignation, it looked like he was treating the people of Wakefield, Bramley, Pudsey and Beeston to his very own Christ the Redeemer.

Bloody hell.

We carved out so few chances.

On forty-two minutes, the ridiculously quiet Welbeck went just wide from an Estevao pass. Efforts from Gittens and Barco did not trouble the Leeds ‘keeper.

The debutant Watson was booked for a tackle that was pure Vinnie Jones in the final minute of the half.

At the break, the mood was very negative. Collectively we had been poor, and individually too. Watson the debutant had shown a degree of effort and enthusiasm, but of course it is so difficult to knit everyone together when they have not played as an eleven ever before.

During the day, my friend Jimmy had shared some sad news about a well-known Chelsea supporter who had passed away that afternoon. His dear friend Akis Kyriakou (aka “Aki” / “Agi”) had retired back to Cyprus recently, and Jimmy only visited him at a care home on Monday while he was on holiday. Agi had been suffering with dementia for some time. I can’t claim to know Agi well, but I recognised his face and he recognised mine. I would bump into him on European trips, and he was always smiling. Agi was deeply loved in the Chelsea community. His “Cyprus Blues” flag proudly flew on the West Stand wall for many years. At half-time I went to say a few words to my friend Zak, a dear friend of Agi and Jimmy, and we remembered him fondly.

RIP AKIS KYRIAKOU

As I returned to my seat, I saw Reece James and Pedro Neto warming up on the pitch. However, Alonso was not stopping with just two changes.

He made a phenomenal four substitutions at half-time.

Neto for Gusto.

James for Watson.

Palmer for Estevao.

Rogers for Gittens.

Our personnel suddenly seemed to increase in value by 100%.

But the pesky Northerners were not keeping to the script. Just two minutes into the half, a strong run by Ethan Ampadu, wrestling his way easily past Rogers, enabled him to reach the by-line and cross low. The ball was craftily touched back by Lukas Nmecha – “oh here we go” – and Aaronson smashed the ball in.

Fackinell.

South 0 North 2.

The away support roared.

“UNITED ARE BACK. UNITED ARE BACK.”

Momentarily, all seemed lost.

But Chelsea started to piece things together. On fifty-three minutes, Chavarria was upended by James in the box, and we were handed a lifeline. Palmer claimed the ball and confidently smashed the penalty to the ‘keeper’s left. It nestled snugly in the corner of the goal nets.

Perfect.

Vinnie Jones 1 Tony Dorigo 2

With that, Stamford Bridge, so docile until then, seemed to be injected with a lorryload of Class A stimulants, and the noise boomed around the stands. Leeds must have wondered what had hit it.

“CAREFREE – WHEREVER YOU MAY BE.”

Lo and behold, just two minutes later, a throw from Acheampong, a chested lay-off from Rogers into the path of Palmer, and from the edge of the “D”, the coolest finish anyone is likely to witness this season. A nonchalant sweep of his left peg, and the ball slowly tumbled into the goal, with Zetterer either unwilling or unable to move. He would probably claim he was unsighted, since Palmer deftly aimed around a lone defender.

Ron Harris 2 Billy Bremner 2

Now the noise went up a notch further.

“AND IT’S SUPER CHELSEA.”

Three minutes later, Palmer to James, but just wide.

On the hour, delicate skill from Barco – growing into the game now – allowed the ball to be moved on. Leeds inadvertently passed the ball to Palmer who advanced the ball towards Rogers, making a strong central run. His slide moved the ball on, and from a very similar position to Palmer, Neto aimed at the far post.

Zetterer was again beaten.

The place erupted again.

Pensioners 3 Peacocks 2

The noise increased even more.

We were all breathless.

Just five minutes later, and just after Palmer had gone close, we witnessed lovely skill from Danny Welbeck inside the box from a pinpoint Rogers cross. He dummied one way before swivelling to stab home the other. His euphoric run over to the far corner was accompanied by tumultuous cheering.

Bloody hell.

Blue / Blue / Yellow 4 White / White / Red 2

Palmer hit the side netting.

Would there be more goals? Sadly yes, at The Shed End. Substitute Dominic Calvert-Lewin finished off a crisp one-touch move with fifteen minutes to go, and – ridiculously – it became nervy again.

Millwall Badge 4 Smiley Badge 3

Wesley Fofana replaced Colwill. The game began again, with a new vigour and a new sense of jeopardy.

On eighty minutes, Rogers broke strongly down the right and aimed a low cross into the six-yard box. The luckless ‘keeper touched it towards the waiting Barco, who smashed the ball purposefully home.

Headhunters 5 Service Crew 3.

The Bridge noise levels went through the roof and other cliches.

I caught the Argentinian’s slide down below me and caught his wild emotion. This was another fine game from the young lad; on the evidence provided, he might well turn out to be the buy of the season.

Still Leeds kept going; here was a mazy run into our box on their left, but a shot was blocked.

Palmer fancied varying it with an impudent chip, but the ball was well over.

Six minutes of extra-time were signalled.

In the fourth of those, a nice move built up after Leeds head tennis, and Palmer flicked towards finding Neto wide right. His ball inside was helped on by Rogers, then Palmer again. It ran to Barco who slashed wildly. The ball was heading off for a goal-kick but hit Welbeck and caromed into the net.

Wallop!

Jimmy-Floyd Hasselbaink 6 David Hopkin 3.

What a bloody ridiculous night. At half-time, nobody could have possibly expected us to score six in the second half. At times, it was breathtaking. It was glorious. And it was loud.

In fact, the noise produced from 1-2 onwards was the highlight for me. It showed that we can still produce our old-style Chelsea noise when needed.

Top marks.

Happy to snap five of the nine goals too.

I walked back to the car and collected PD from outside “The Mitre” within twenty minutes. After a delayed kick-off, I was hoping for a quick getaway. Alas, soon into my return trip home, the Fulham Palace Road was closed so I had to painfully retrace my path back to the North End Road. On top of that, the M4 and then the A303 was closed. This meant that I had to trudge slowly over Salisbury Plain through Ludgershall to Devizes.

On the way home, we wondered if we had ever been losing at half-time, with no goals, only to score six in the second period.

I doubt it.

We thought about nine goals in a game.

Neither of us had seen more. We both remembered the 1986 Full Members Cup Final, when nine goals were bizarrely shared and this was my personal high for many a year. How odd that my first trip to Wembley with Chelsea would result in nine goals. I had recollections of a 7-2 home win a few years back, but the 6-3 win at Goodison Park in 2014 didn’t come readily to mind.

But these games remain the highest for me.

1986 : Chelsea 5 Manchester City 4.

2010 : Chelsea 7 Sunderland 2.

2014 : Everton 3 Chelsea 6.

2026 : Chelsea 6 Leeds United 3.

Nearing Melksham, where PD’s car was waiting, I was hanging.

“I just want to brush my teeth and get to bed.”

I eventually reached home at 1.40am.

I still made time to share the joyful leap from Danny Welbeck on “Facebook” though. I couldn’t deprive you from seeing that one.

On Saturday, yet another trip to London as we play host to Hull City.

See you there.

AKIS KYRIAKOU RIP

Thanks Jimmy for the lovely photo.