It had been pissing down all the previous night and most of the morning, and our motley band, which included guest Dodger from Australia (whose last Chelsea match had been in the sixties before he emigrated), were expecting a soaking, but right on cue the sun came out. It revealed a packed stadium, and a pitch that looked like deep green velvet. I experienced that indescribable feeling that you get when arriving home from a long trip abroad; I know it's only been a couple of months, but I was so happy to get back to football that you wouldn't believe it.

Right from the off it was clear that Chelsea were not going to mess about, putting together a series of outstanding moves, orchestrated by the impressive Deschamps from midfield, where Sunderland were totally swamped. Deschamps' passing and vision were exemplary, and he looked every inch a Chelsea player. The inevitable result was Sunderland conceding a corner under pressure. A stooping bullet of a header from an unmarked Gus Poyet from Dennis Wise's corner saw the crowd erupt in a blaze of colour and exuberance.

From the kickoff Chelsea were back on the attack, and it wasn't long before the inevitable second goal. An exquisite long through ball from Deschamps (I think) set Franco Zola on his way down the right flank, shadowed by the hulking Steve Bould. Zola kept running and dribbling until it looked like he'd be forced to cross, as the angle was becoming more acute and Bould was blocking his view of the goal. At exactly the right moment, Franco pushed the ball between Bould's legs, across Sorensen and just inside the far post. It would be impossible to imagine a more perfect demonstration of technique, vision and timing. We went absolutely mental.

Chris Sutton, the Ģ10 million man, had a lot to prove, and he did it in style by missing two of the easiest chances a striker will ever have in the Premiership. He was put through on both occasions by killer through balls, and with nobody within twenty yards except the keeper. The first time he shot wide past the advancing Sorensen, and the second time he fell onto his arse just as he was about to shoot. It was embarrassing for Sutton, but even more so for us. It would be foolish to judge the poor man on these misses, as it only highlighted the fact that he's not really sharp enough yet, and is lacking in touch and pace. These things will come with time. Personal feelings aside, I believe that Sutton will score plenty of goals this season, having seen the amount of chances created for him on Saturday. It was a shame he didn't put away his chances on his home debut, but it will certainly make him even keener to prove himself in the future. Anybody got a bucket ?

Half time came and went in a haze of Bovril and urine, and we were back at it. Sunderland looked a different team for the first twenty minutes or so, and Ed De Goey was twice called on to save from Kevin Phillips, but that was about it. For Chelsea, Dan Petrescu was rampant in his right wing slot, and the amount of room he was given defied belief, although Sunderland did tighten up on him a bit during the second half. It didn't stop the glorious, flowing football, though, as it was coming from all angles. Near misses from Petrescu, who was put through and fired against the post, and various other close shaves kept keeper Sorensen wide awake, and poor Steve Bould looked increasingly besieged as he tried to organise his defence. Sutton was substituted by Flo with twenty minutes to go. There was a standing ovation, although whether it was for Sutton or Flo is in some dispute. Flo promptly scored from a header in the six yard box with his second touch of the ball. Sutton looked even more depressed in his seat in the dugout, but the crowd all went mental again. Funny old game, isn't it ?

The final goal was, for me and no doubt everyone else in the ground apart from Peter Reid, the crowning moment of a glorious afternoon. Franco Zola was heavily involved, controlling a high ball and turning the defender in the same move, then having the vision to chip the ball into the sprinting Gus Poyet's path. Gus jumped on the run, and caught the ball with a glorious scissors kick in mid air, sending it like a cannonball into the back of the net. The entire Sunderland defence, including Sorensen, were rooted to the spot. We went absolutely crazy, and I distinguished myself by standing on the back of the seat of the woman in front of me, which promptly bent under my weight, sending me crashing into her lap. No need to worry, though, readers, it was a nice, soft landing..

It would be unwise to read too much into this game, and any wild talk of winning the title will not be entertained here, unlike in some of the newspaper reports. It is, however, a very encouraging start. If you want my opinion on Sunderland, they were disappointing, but it could be that they met Chelsea on an afternoon when we'd have beaten anyone. As Peter Reid, a man I have more than a grudging respect for, admitted after the game, he felt like they'd had a result only losing 4-0. If we'd have put away all our easy chances the score would have been in double figures, so he's got a point. To me it looked like Sunderland were giving the ball away too easily on the few occasions when they managed to get possession, and they were giving our players way too much room when we had the ball. I'm sure that Reid will get them sorted out, and will no doubt be employing the kind of colourful language that amused us so in the TV series about Sunderland last season. Calm down calm down...

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