Put aside all the turbulences at the Bridge. Let’s talk about something else, something light. I want to narrate you a story which has no direct relevance now but I just thought ‘let me write about it’. There are some lesser mortals such as me who gets to see matches only on television, that too sometimes at ungodly hours.

The beauty is that, when the ball hits the back of the net, it matters less if you’re in your drawing room or at Mathew Harding Upper. When you’re at the stadium, watching Cheslea score, you dance, you shout, you do whatever your mob mentality dictates you to. When you’re at home, if there is a cracking goal, what do you do? You can’t exactly replicate the stadium celebrations at home, well you can at second thought, may be an abridged version of it. I’m going to talk about one such match from the last season (which was supposedly a bad season for Chelsea) which, for evoking such emotions would remain as one of the most memorable matches I’ve seen. That wasn’t even a win!

In the 06-07 season, in the champions league Chelsea had beaten Barcelona 1-0 at the Bridge in a fantastic match that should have finished 3-0 or something. Hilario held on to a famous career-enhancing clean sheet against some really big names that included a certain world player of the year. The return leg at Camp Nou was going to be very special as Barca and their fans alike were saying things like ‘we’ll thrash you’, ‘we’ll teach you a football lesson’, ‘we’ll put five past Hilario’ and such stuff.

The match was to start at half hour past midnight India time. I had a couple of cousins coming over to my place to watch this match. One (chelsito) was a Chelsea supporter and the other (call barcito) was a Barca fan (‘anything but Chelsea’). These guys came home more than an hour before kick off to have our pro evo (then, not anymore now, it’s only fifa08 now) build up to the match. Me and Chelsito always team up. We choose Chelsea and play like Chelsea as in we play direct football with the ultimate objective is to score and not to concede and we would achieve these objectives by the most efficient and smart way. Barcito chooses and tries to play like Barca.

Barcito had already started by saying Barca were robbed at Stamford Bridge, referee was shite, Drogba has power but not skill, JM doesn’t respect others etc. I don’t quite remember what happened in our pro evo match up. We just could not wait for the match. The last time we played at Camp Nou, JM had promised that he would appear at the Camp Nou pitch well before his players and take all the abuses and boos of the catalan crowd. He kept his promise. There was deafening noise as the crowd saw a glimpse of the man they hate the most. The players then walked in by which time there was enough buzz in the stadium created by JM’s entry. This time, he did not have to do it. Barca players and fans knew that Chelsea at any stadium is a monster and for the Chelsea lads it’s ‘been here, done that’.

Finally the match kicked off. Within few minutes, Deco scores from an opportunistic ground shot from about 30 yards. Barcito already started off with his oohs and aahs. He every started to praise every shitty misplaced pass by Barca for the vision behind, which were never fulfilled, thanks to the Great Wall of Chelsea. Me and Chelsito were very quiet. We thought we’ll wait for the last laugh. First half was over. I was very sure that we’ll hit them back. You can’t take Chelsea lightly, those days.

Chelsea was still probing for a goal and then came that moment. The moment of magic that Barcito was expecting from Ronnie & co was produced by Super Frank. With an exquisite finish, Frank gave us a very deserving equaliser. Tension started to grip Barcito. Must have been thinking ‘god, this can’t end in a draw’. He can’t digest the fact that Chelsea can win and draw against Barca in a two-legged affair. Not-So-Super Frank then brought on Edmilson. As soon as he came in he delivered a superbly directed diagonal aerial ball (long pass, if it was a Chelsea player) which Ronnie received and rounded off Boulahrouz for a low cross to Eidur, which he only had to tap in. Barcito could not hold the joy. Still he did not go overbound as he knew a wounded Chelsea was the most dangerous team (back then, that is) to deal with. Chelsito is a quiet guy. He knows that it is very difficult to contain Barcito in arguments and discussions and he just keeps it to himself after some point.

Chelsea kept attacking and Barca kept defending. JM was on his feet shouting and pushing his players while keeping the referees on their toes. No player would look at the dug out after a bad mistake. JM would burn him with his eyes and words. As time went by, with every passing minute on the clock, Chelsea were getting stronger and stronger. The match entered stoppage time. Chelsea were not tired one bit. They wanted a goal, badly. This was not champions league final or not even a knockout round. This was just a group stage match where Chelsea could progress without much fuss. Barcito started to relax and relish. His grim face was loosening and he even managed to smile and started to joke.

Then there was the chance for the last attack of the match as there were only seconds left. Barca were already on a back foot with all their players in their own half. Essien made a weighted lob to surging John Terry who was parallel with the Barca backline. JT headed it to Drogba and there was Marquez even ready to murder Drogba to stop that goal. Marquez failed. Drogba silenced the whole of Camp Nou in a flash. I jumped from the couch and was screaming like a mad man. Barcito had his hands on his head, unable to believe that Chelsea scored. Chelsito too unleashed himself to celebrate with me with high-fives and all.

JM’s celebration was the best of all. It was as if he scored the goal himself. I shook hands with Barcito and told it was a good match. Barcito must have been thinking ‘Bastards, how did they manage to do it!’. Despite his hatred towards Chelsea, Barcito always respected Chelsea and in fact, secretly, he feared Chelsea. When Barca was put in the same group as Chelsea, I know he was not too comfortable though he relished the possibility of a good football match. He knew that you can’t score that easily against Chelsea. Barca’s party trick won’t work with Chelsea. We were simply too mature in defence and well-prepared to counter these things. He knew that Chelsea would get a goal if they had to. He was always nervous when Chelsea was in a bad mood, after bloody tackles, enraging quarrels and those card incidents. As I said before he knew that a wounded Chelsea was one of the most difficult teams to deal with.

In many ways, the Chelsea vs Barca matches epitomised the Chelsea characters. Commitment in the tackles, hitting the oppoenent with an ‘in-his-face’ approach, rising to the challenge, excellent teamwork, working together for a single common objective and more than anything, the ‘never-day-die’ attitude. That was the Chelsea I knew and loved. That’s what I want again. I wish we are back meaner, stronger, hungrier and deadlier.