“Sunday Best” screams a popular English daily as I read on with upturned lips and sparkling eyes. In yet another nod to the Chilli Peppers, also one of my favorite bands, my smiling eyes are just a mirror for The Sun.
There are two Chelsea teams that I have seen this season. There’s the one that has done a deserved double over United and Arsenal, put seven past Villa and Sunderland, one that has bullied the likes of Wolves and Blackburn. And there’s the one that turned up at White Hart Lane and lost the plot, the one that Inter dismembered so unceremoniously.
Stoke have had one of the best defensive records away from home in the league. Having conceded only sixteen goals before this game, there was a little bubble of doubt at the back of my mind about our ability to break them down in such a crunch game. Thankfully, the Chelsea team that turned up today was the one that plays some sharp-looking stuff , all at a high tempo, which even the most fanatical United or Arsenal fan will admit is a pleasure to watch.
There exist certain difficulties in reviewing a 7-0. Everyone has had a good game. It’s tough to hand out the spotlight to anyone in particular when there are four different people scoring and five different people coming up with assists. There is no real insight to give.What is extremely easy, however, is to bandy about words such as “rampant“, “thrashing“, “breathtaking” and “Jesus H. Christ“.
The First Half began with a vision. A vision of a slick passes, moments of sublime skill, vision, confident movement on and off the ball, and a pitch full of green grass all coated in genuine purple haze. While Chelsea were responsible for the former, the latter I can blame on a combination of the Chilli Peppers, sleep deprivation, the semester examinations and all the extra curricular activities that go with.
- Drogba, who tends to infuriate me with a lot of his touches, who is also allegedly taking classes on samba dancing, collects the ball with the most sublime of touches. A perfect ball into the corridor of uncertainty. Easy for Kalou. 1-0.
- Good passing in the build up. Drogba lays it off for Lampard. Lampard shoots, predictably. Sorenson fails to collect the ball cleanly, making it fair game for Kalou pounce on, which he does. 2-0.
- The third however was the most enjoyable of the lot. Kalou dinks past Huth. Huth falls at Kalou’s feet and holds on to his leg, whether out of desperation or out of devotion to Anansi, the trickster God, who is allegedly reincarnated in Kalou, we will never know. Kalou carries himself, the ball and Huth in to the penalty area where he promptly goes to ground. Penalty. Queue in Frank Lampard. 3-0.
Kalou finally delivered a display that justifies the exorbitant wages I am sure he is paid. While nothing came of them, Ferreira’s crosses were all inch perfect. Sharp and in the danger zone, a certain Bacary Sagna would do well to take note. Stoke were unfortunate to lose Sorenson and Faye to injury but in the end, the score-line was a genuine reflection of the game.
The Second Half on the other hand begins with a story. We begin with a crow, perched upon a low-lying branch, with a stolen fast food item held precariously in its beak. A hungry fox saunters up to the crow, and asks it render, for the benefit of the general public, a song. The crow, coming in at slightly below 10 on the IQ scale, duly obliges, only to realize that its fried-batter delicacy is no longer in its possession. The reason I bring this up is because the thoughts running through the heads of Zaheer Khan and Asmir Begovic, for a large part of forty-five minutes, resembled those of the crow very closely.
Like any self-respecting Madras paiyan, the second half was spent largely in the yellow half of the airwaves. Keeping with the vada train of thought, this half was all about watching the Super Kings, to paraphrase a friend, squash some vada-pavs to make some old-fashioned vadacurry, Chennai-ishtyle. However, I did manage to catch all the goals in the second half.
- Kalou gets his hat-trick. Enough said. 4-0.
- Sam Hutchinson, following the introductory courses on crossing by Drogba and Ferreira, sends a beauty to the far post. Lampard volleys cleverly across the keeper into the top corner. 5-0.
- Daniel Sturridge is sent through on goal by Drogba. Keeps his composure to round the keeper. 6-0.
- The law of averages finally catches up with Florent Malouda. He manages to stick one into the net after some good work by Joe Cole. 7-0.
I really don’t remember much else from the second half. Oh, did I mention the clean sheet?
Ancelotti did well to deal with all the pressure surrounding us after United’s win over Spurs. However, the pressure will really be on, come Saturday. The title chase could very well be decided next week at Anfield. Liverpool have a tough game in Europe on Thursday. Nothing personal, but a morale sapping 2-2 would be just what the doctor ordered. If today’s Chelsea turn up, I think we’ll have one hand on the title next week. God forbid, the team that played at White Hart Lane turns up.
It’s still our title to lose. Come on, you blues!
