C.R.I.S.I.S.

Chelsea Reign In Serious Implosion Scenario

Look Away Now has been avoiding this sad deterioration, much in the way you politely ignore the fetid urinal smell emanating from an elderly relative: they've done a great deal in the past and have great stories to tell, and it would be cruel to explicitly draw attention to the work of time’s withering touch.  Chelsea’s spine is creaking.  Drogba is no longer the rippling man muscle unit he was prior to contracting malaria; John Terry has the type of chronic back ailments usually associated with a 13-year old Victorian shoe-shine boy, and the shock of scoring an important goal for England (and then having it disallowed) seems to have caused Frank (don't call me FAT!!) Lampard's groin to disintegrate. 

Chelsea’s current malaise is far more puzzling than the mere “aging squad” shtick would have it seem.  Yes, Chelsea have an aging squad, but aging is a gradual process, and the rapid loss of confidence and verve which has been displayed by them in recent League outings suggests something else is at play.  Could it be that a team that has been one of the strongest in the Premier League is just having a pre-Christmas slump?  If this is the case then the upcoming triptych against Spurs, Man Utd and Arsenal would be the perfect time to snap out of it.  Lose these games and they will have painted a figuratively horrific masterpiece Frances Bacon would have been giddy about.

Chelsea are short at the back and Essien is a big miss for them, but the surprise is how ill-equipped they seem, both mentally and physically, when it comes to plugging these gaps.  Where has the team of the end of last season and the beginning of this one gone?  The team who ran up score lines similar to betting odds for Shane Warne turning out for Australia in the Ashes and saving their series.  Would it be too literary to trace these problems back to Wilkins’ dismissal?  After all, prior to this event almost anyone with a cursory interest in the Premier League had them nailed on as runaway favorites to retain their title.  Has a Russian Oligarch who shoots from the hip killed not just Wilkins’ career, but his team’s morale?  With the type of investment going into Russian Football over the next decade, might Abramovich be looking to take a chunk for himself, and in doing so lose interest in his West London pet?

Like a boxer who, after an impressive first round, replete with showboating gestures to the slathering crowd, steps out in the second and takes a three minute feast of fists to the face.  Like him, Chelsea sit bloodied in the corner. Can Ancelotti's omnipresent raised eyebrow lift their spirit? Can his whispering in their ear rekindle their confidence? Or do they just sit there wishing it was Wilkins who was daubing petroleum jelly on their open eye wound?

~ Ed