I don't want to appear to be making excuses for Chelsea's unconvincing performance, but they were clearly hampered by this buffoon's insistence on keeping the pea in his whistle rattling at every opportunity. They found it difficult to establish a rhythm, when every tackle or slight contact with an opposing player was penalised. It resulted in a frustrating stop-start game, and on the rare occasions when the ball was in play, most of the players appeared to go off at a hundred miles an hour in a effort to make up for it. Very un-European, but Deschamps, who usually suffers for it, outdid himself. The conventional wisdom is that Deschamps performs best when the game is played at the traditional, thoughtful pace that normally characterises European football, but it certainly wasn't the case last night. He was as good as I've ever seen him.

The team consisted of Desailly, Leboeuf, Ferrer and Babayaro at the back, Morris, Wise, Deschamps (later replaced by Di Matteo) and Poyet in midfield, and Flo and Zola (later replaced by Harley) up front. Chelsea started brightly, albeit hampered by the buffoon, and showed promising touches. The ball was confidently sprayed all over the park by Leboeuf, Wise and Deschamps, and it was finding the intended target more often than not; usually Zola, who had assumed a wide role on the night. He played with passion and commitment, and was extremely unlucky not to benefit to the tune of three or four goals. He appeared to have a free role as long he he played wide, so he was popping up on both wings, sometimes within the same attacking move. Flo was relatively disappointing, and I thought he looked tired, as did Poyet, who also had what was for him a quiet day.

Marseille rode their luck several times in the opening fifteen minutes, with Zola, Poyet and Babayaro all coming very close to scoring. The Marseille keeper was called upon to make several point blank saves to keep Chelsea out. This seemed to give Marseille confidence, and they began to look like a better side, counter-attacking with lightning speed at every opportunity. Thuram stood out for them, giving poor Bertie Ferrer a torrid time of it, and when De La Peņa came on late in the second half he scared the pants off the Chelsea defence - it was lucky he didn't come on earlier. I'm not surprised Chelsea wanted to buy him on that evidence.

The breakthrough finally came when Flo took advantage of ex-Evertonian Sebastien Peres' mistake to cross the ball into the area just outside the six yard box for who else but Zola, the smallest man on the pitch, to nod down to Dennis Wise, who showed great skill to steer the ball past the keeper. The place, needless to say, erupted, and soon the whole ground was ringing to Dennis' "San Siro" song. To say he looked chuffed is putting it mildly. Unfortunately, instead of steadying the ship, it appeared to have the opposite effect. Marseille came back with renewed determination and caused all sorts of problems, particularly on the break. Luckily Ed De Goey was equal to everything Marseille could throw at him, but if looks could kill, the entire Chelsea back line would be dead this morning.

Other incidents included Frank Leboeuf's booking for being pushed over by Peres after Leboeuf had tackled him (I know, ask the buffoon of a ref), and Bakayoko's shot that scuffed just past De Goey's post after Leboeuf had gifted him the ball. Half time eventually came with no further goals, but plenty to worry about. Some of the gaps at the back had been embarrassing, and the general feeling in the Shed Upper was that we were lucky to be one up.

For the record, no bugger got the bovrils in, which was a bad omen in my book. I was proved right when the second half became a siege, with Marseille applying more and more pressure to an increasingly shaky looking Chelsea defence. I spent the last twenty minutes hiding my head in my hands, as Chelsea continually risked everything by losing the ball in midfield or allowing the Marseille strikers too much room. The substitution of Zola and Deschamps with fifteen minutes to go did nothing to change things, and Marseille came the closest they got all night when De La Peņa struck the ball onto a beaten De Goey's post from thirty yards from an unfairly awarded (surprise) free kick. To say that I was relieved when the whistle finally blew for the last time would be an understatement of huge proportions.

Summing up, Chelsea got worse as the game went on, and Marseille got better. We took our goal well, and Marseille were unlucky not to get a draw. Nevertheless we're top of the group and look favourite to go through to the quarter final. We did what was necessary when playing indifferently, still winning the game by the odd goal. It was horrendous to watch, but the result is what counts. Bring on Feyenoord. Let's just hope we get a ref who has at least seen a football match before, unlike, apparently, Seņor Buffoon.

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