21st August 2001 On a more pleasant note, read Steve Belfield's excellent Newcastle match report. 20th August 2001 Unfortunately we were wrong, as inexplicably the pressure from Chelsea was gradually turned down, predictably resulting in an equaliser from Newcastle in the second half. Both goals were from terrible howlers by the keepers, as they failed to hold onto the ball from what looked like fairly average shots. First impressions of the new signings were that Zenden made a good start before being substituted, exhibiting tricky skills and fast pace, but what makes him a cut above the rest is his physical toughness. Tackles were bouncing off him and he made himself a real nuisance to the Newcastle defence. 8/10. Emmanuel Petit had a few good touches but appeared to be struggling to find his rythm. He didn't appear to have developed much of an understanding with the other midfield players, although it's early days yet. The jury is out, but he's a player of quality and I'm sure he'll prove himself. He wants to get a fucking haircut, though. Pony tails are neither funny nor clever, especially when they are ginger. 5 out of 10, but would have been 6 except for the hair. Frank Lampard. Was he playing ? I didn't see him. 2/10. William Gallas came on as a substitute but was largely anonymous. I'll give him 5/10 on the grounds that he didn't do anything too bad. To sum up, it's obvious that the team were not yet fully functioning, but there's plenty of room for optimism. Although it pains me to say it, Newcastle deserved a draw for their stubborn refusal to give up. The way I see it is that Chelsea lost two points but Newcastle won one, and by the way their fans celebrated at the end I would imagine they would agree. Still, shit on everyone else, Chelsea are by far and away the best team in the Premiership. They just don't know it yet... 16th August 2001 I admit that I know next to nothing about football, but I do pride myself on knowing a con artist when I see one, and the PlayerCam never lies - Nady Cole really is AWFUL. Granted, he ran around like a demented hare with a firework up its backside, but whenever he actually got the ball he just gave it away or pretended he'd been fouled. That spoilt brat look of outrage he adopts when things don't go his way (the whole time, then - Ed) just makes me want to slap him. England lost this match 2-0 and it was all Cole's fault. On second thoughts, perhaps that's a little unfair - it was half his fault and half professional scouser "Rat Boy" Fowler's. You could tell they were going to be shit right from the moment the pair of them sulkily and blatantly refused to sing during the national anthem. Champagne Leftie Fowler is afraid he will lose street cred with the Liverpool dockers, the thieving gits. A far better idea would be to quietly give them half his huge salary rather than insult every other person in this country as he did last night. And he was shit. Chelsea FC must never, ever again mention Fowler in the same sentence as the word "buy", unless it is "We wouldn't buy Fowler even if he was only two bob". Which he is. Fuck off, Fowler. I couldn't care less what Cole's reasons are for not singing. I just think he's got a fucking nerve considering that he is so obviously rubbish. Luckily we don't have to worry about Cole ever becoming a Chelsea player - Colin Hutchinson knows he's shit as he turned Man U down flat when they offered him to us earlier this year. Piss off, Cole. 14th August 2001 8th August 2001 8th August 2001 This insidious process starts with the suggestion that the player wasn't actually that good anyway, just as they did with Flo and Poyet. They compound this deceit by claiming that it is all to the club's advantage. Well-worn phrases such as "surplus to requirements", "good business", etc., are becoming depressingly familiar, but this time the club also claim that Harley had failed to live up to early promise. This is absolute nonsense. Harley was allowed nine games before being dropped while he was out-performing most of the rest of the team. Please do not tell me that this isn't true because I was watching from the stands and was as mystified as most other fans when Harley disappeared from view. This contemptible, transparent attempt to cover up the real reasons behind the sale fails to hide the fact that Harley was one of the most promising players Chelsea have produced in years. The failure is surely Chelsea's for preferring to bring in a constant stream of high profile foreign imports, which has critically reduced Harley's chances of getting the games he needs to mature into the sort of valuable home-grown player that both club and country need for the future. It's a simple and understandable enough equation: buy a high profile foreigner, attract media attention, fans to the stadium and TV, make money to pay the debts. Although I've no objection to this per se, you have to ask yourself if it's in the best interests of the club in the long run; The youth policy is thrown into disarray and the club has no secure future. It's clear that the ludicrous short-termism at Chelsea has not changed at all since the arrival of Ranieri, despite the promises and protestations to the contrary, and neither is it likely to while the millstone of Chelsea Village is hanging round our necks. I'm bitterly disappointed. Now Harley's gone to Fulham, where I'm afraid he will find that the problem is the same, albeit to a lesser degree. What makes the whole thing even sadder is that Jon thinks that signing for Fulham will be a good career move ! I think you will have guessed by now, readers, that I am appalled. I'm afraid that the word "cunts" once again springs to mind. You watch: John Terry will be the next player to become "surplus to requirements" because he "hasn't fulfilled his early promise as a player". 6th August 2001 I don't mean to sound unfriendly, Boudewijn. You will find the Chelsea fans prepared to elevate you to "Legend" status along with Franco, Kerry, Ossie, and Luca in short order, providing you are prepared to go straight in there with all guns blazing, banging in crosses for your mate JFH to convert into forty goals this season. Failing that sort of commitment you will be placed firmly in the bitch category and your once highly prized cigarette cards will be consigned to the dustbin. On a slightly less salubrious note, my old chum Dr Les has been at it again, expounding on life without football, Chris Sutton, Franck Leboeuf and Edwin Van Der Saar, among others. Brace yourself before you venture once more into the parallel universe of Dr Les... 1st August 2001 It all makes sense now. Crisp lived near Brooklyn in New York. Beckham/Cook's son is called Brooklyn. Fatboy lives in Brighton which is full of people who look exactly like Quentin Crisp and is one of the biggest Man U catchment areas in the country (the smallest is Greater Manchester). Coincidence ? I rest my case... Word has also reached me from the Voice of the East Stand - Klaus has a word or two to say about the departing Old Guard, and muses on the apalling defeat at QPR a couple of days ago. More.. One of my regular readers by the name of Barney has pointed out that Dr Les was wrong when he claimed in his recent diatribe that "Leboeuf only missed one penalty, while scoring a fuckload". Leboeuf in fact missed two penalties, which makes him even more crap than was first thought. Thanks, Barney, but look out for a mouthful from the good Doctor... July rants
© 1996-2002
Priesty's Chelsea FC Refuge.
Scumsucker
Sad to see the depths to which Gus Poyet has sunk as he is sent off while playing for Rottenham. Sign in haste, repent at leisure, you muppet.
Keeper Madness
I was at Stamford Bridge yesterday to watch the opening match of the season against Newcastle. Things started off well enough, with Chelsea threatening to completely engulf the opposition, and a goal after only eight minutes from new signing Boudewijn Zenden encouraged Chelsea fans into believing that more goals were just around the corner.
Cole Hole
I was watching the England v Holland game last night on Sky Digital. During the second half there was an opportunity to watch Nady Cole on the PlayerCam thingy. Normally I do not bother with such technological trickery while watching football on the TV, but this seemed an irresistable chance to find out just what the hell it is that people like old Erikbloke see in the wanker.
Prognosis From The Doctor
With the season fast approaching it's time to evaluate the other teams in the Premiership with Dr Les's Definitive Guide To The Season. Due to extreme provocation from Les I have been forced to reveal some depressing facts about the good doctor's penchant for alcohol and other psychotropic substances.
Electra Glide In Blue
I knew it wouldn't be long before the Voice of the East Stand started talking - Klaus's two penn'orth on the Harley affair. I'm just waiting for Les to get on my case now...
Harley Classic
Disastrous news this morning as Chelsea flog Jon Harley to Fulham for £3.5 million. In a vain attempt to mask the fact that yet another player crucial to the future of the club has seen fit to request a transfer, the official web site is trotting out the same old guff that they come out with every time the club sells off one of our assets.
Honk If You Love Jesus
A warm welcome to Stamford Bridge to Boudewijn Zenden, but let's not be having any fucking about. What do I mean ? I mean acting the goat a la Laudrup, marking time while raking in the dough, then pissing off when you find that you have to do a bit of work for your money.
An Englishman In New York
Word reaches me that David Beckham was actually born Quentin Cook. Yes, that's right, Quentin Cook. No wonder he changed his name - he obviously didn't want the world to know that his mother was world famous nancy boy Quentin Crisp and his father is former Housemartin turned DJ Norman Cook, alias Fatboy Slim.
