On Ice

In so many respects, Chelsea v Everton was the game that didn’t deliver. It needed a sparkling display from the home team, but for all the possession and all the dominance, some of it ‘referee assisted’, it was more like a bottle of shandy than a case of champagne – lots of fizz but not much class (especially when Arjen Robben twice attempted to win a penalty with his dying swan routine). It needed a fighting performance from Everton, a performance of real spirit, utter conviction and unrelenting determination – but it didn’t happen because ironically it was the Chelsea side which was the absolute model of industry.

From the start, Everton gave the impression of a team which didn’t for one moment believe that they could win and were set on a policy of damage limitation. But against a side with Chelsea’s resources, even damage limitation demands total commitment. Yet the ease with which the industrious Didier Drogba robbed Cahill before setting up Lampard to stroll in and place the ball into the corner for Chelsea’s first goal was far from suggestive of commitment. Neither was the performance of the unpredictable James Beattie, who looked at best like a man running in black molasses. His removal in the 69th minute brought to a humane end a display of outrageous ineptitude and apparent indifference.

If all that sounds harsh towards the visitors – and Beattie in particular - consider two things. First, compare Beattie with Drogba – any way you like. In terms of work rate, effort, achievement, tackling, passing, strikes at goal, assists – you name it. There is, quite simply, no comparison. Now consider how Everton reacted after Rob Styles had impetuously dismissed Lee Carsley for a challenge which looked far more yellow than red, and compare their performance with the magnificent one Chelsea put up after Maniche’s red card against West Ham. Once again, there is no comparison.

The greatest virtues in Chelsea’s game are unremitting hard work, total belief and incredible organisation – and to have any hope of beating them an opposing team must match those admirable qualities.

But Chelsea themselves can do better, so much better. They can excite, show flair, entertain. They have the resources and, one suspects, the desire – but sometimes it seems as though they are waiting for permission, the chance to break free, to be unleashed.

It would be fun to discover what these players are really capable of. If they were allowed.

In the meantime, the champagne football is, presumably, on ice.