'Zidane!!! OH! OH! OH!'

I took a pretty hard-lined (if tongue-in-cheek) approach the other day on a blog, and am still feeling the aftershocks now. Some people agreed – but a vast majority didn’t. Oh well, all publicity is good publicity even if it leaves some people incandescent with rage. Some were so furious, I could imagine their hands shaking as they howled obscenities at the screen. You’ve never seen so much bile and name calling – I just stood back and took in the, hateful, scene.

     You know, if I can change, and you can change…maybe the whole damn world can change?

    Anyway, today I am going to soften my Chelsea biased and celebrate someone that everyone can agree was, the bleedin’, cat’s pyjamas.

     I am English (yes I know, fantastic), but was raised in France for ten years (I remember it all: Chirac, the World Cup, and erm…wine? Fuck it), and someone that had a profound effect on me was Zinedine Zidane.

    Though, by the time he was celebrated as the best player in the world, he was no longer plying his trade in France. We incessantly talked about him along with Anelka, who must have been a wee bairn, and at the time he played for Les Girondins, our closest Ligue 1 team.

    By 1996 Zizou had disappeared to Juventus in a cheeky £3 million deal. It’s fair to say he did OK in his first year there, he won the Scudetto and Intercontinental Cup. He helped the Old Lady retain the Scudetto the following year, and managed to get to two Champions League finals only to be thwarted by Borussia Dortmund and Real Madrid (respectively).

      This brings us to 1998, and arguably the year that we all caught Zidaneitis (that sounds more like a venereal disease you need a fine toothcomb and white spirit to get rid of). The World Cup was being held in France and if you have had the pleasure of witnessing one being staged, you’ll agree that it isn’t just a celebration of football – it is a celebration of life and culture.

     It was sweltering, Ronaldo (the fat one, not the hairdresser Cristiano) was red hot, and England, unpredictably, went out on penalties in the quarters.

     France were outsiders, but there seemed to be a spark, the country was going nuts getting behind Les Bleus. But I had decided I was going to support Brazil after England’s exit, as it would have been unthinkable to support the French team. It has nothing to do with the players, it’s the nation.

    ANYWAY, Brazil made it through to the finals beating Holland on penalties. It was expected, but they never seemed to get into full gear that tournament. As ever, there is huge anticipation anytime a Brazilian steps anywhere an object that is, even remotely, spherical.

     France had a more nail biting route; Zizou was sent off in the group stages against Saudi Arabia leaving the playmaker suspended for two games. They then had to win in extra time against Paraguay, before facing Italy in the quarters and having to rely on penalties to see them through to the semis. There, they faced a tenacious and bewilderingly brilliant Croatian side. Who had only declared independence seven years prior and somehow managed a third place spot in the tournament (black slaps all round).

    But it was only the deranged Thuram, who had somehow managed to channel the Chi and score two, late, dramatic goals to drag France through, for the time, to the finals of the World Cup.

     Now remember – I was not supporting France, it’s something to do with the thousand years of hatred between England and them. So I was surprised when France, who had gone down to ten men, dismantled Brazil in a breezy final. In a Zidane inspired win, (who netted twice from his bonce) they lifted the World Cup for the first time in their history.

     The pandemonium was, well, pandemonium. The pundit famously shouted, ‘Putain on a gagner! Putain, putain, putain’.

     The equivalent of saying ‘Fucking hell, we’ve won! Fuck, fuck, fuck!’

     People were naming their children after the 98 squad and they were heroes, none more so than Zidane.

     It was later, in 2000 when the French team repeated their success, carrying over their winning confidence into the Euros, that Zidane was heralded as the best in the world.

     Real Madrid decided that they had to have a piece of the action and lodged what was, until now, the biggest transfer fee ever seen – A nut crunching £45 million big bucks (or 76 million in Euros).

     He went to make history for Los Blancos, winning five trophies, La Liga and Champions League amongst them.

    You could talk about his balletic movement on the field, his fiercely competitive nature, his excellent leadership, his signature roulette or the work he did for charities. You could also remember him as the quiet, scary one. You know, the one you saw in the final of the ‘06 World Cup (‘Holy fuck Zidane just twatted that guy in the chest!’)

     There are excellent documentaries on him, Zidane a 21^st Century Portrait, ranks highly. It follows him in a game that seems to highlight all of his characteristics – the discipline, skill, and team work as well as his explosive nature in a 90 minute game that focuses on his every move.

    For me, I like to remember him from this video. Just look at the chilled-out, skilled, motherfucker…

     I know there are a million things I have missed but this has taken long enough. Please feel free to leave a comment with any memories or omissions you think I have made.

T.C.S

 

What a week! Ancelotti is in charge good and proper now – phew! We have clinched the signature of the new Maradona (Sturridge?!), acquired a very nifty solution for Malouda, (no, not drowning him) his name is Zhirkov, and we have heard that Manchester ‘Keep Your Fucking Hands off Our players’ City are trying to tap up JT.

    I can see the appeal, I really do, if you want the best players, Chelsea have a lot of them. What we don’t have a lot of is England Captains and legends like John Terry. I don’t think he’ll leave, at least I hope not… But here is my message to Mark Hughes – Manchester City is still a BORING club no-one wants to play for or watch. 

    If Real Madrid can clinch Kaka for almost half what they were going to pay in January, it should come as a clear indication that City are still a bunch of mid-league ball-bags. Anyone, who says they have chosen Manchester City for sporting reasons or because of the ‘exciting project’ are a bunch of lying cunts, and will presumably be a perfect fit at Eastlands.

     Anyway, news has been announced that arseholes across town, Manchester United, have received a package labelled ‘damaged goods’. In fact, the package contained a dead dog, reported to be Michael Owen. Morbidly, said dog was paraded around Old Trafford and made to pose for pictures – sick.

    We had a similar prank played on us, when Ross Turnbull, formerly of Middlesbrough shame was dumped on our doorstep begging for a place to stay. He has since continued to loiter and out of sense of charity has been offered a contract. He will now be an understudy to Cech, I say understudy…more of a cruel joke.

T.C.S

'Roman's devoted sailors aboard his luxury fleet.'

Arr ya mutinous pig dogs! And so on... It would seem that Abramovich has no intention of letting Pato remain an AC Milan player next season. Vlado Lamic (Roman’s right hand man/henchman) was seen in Milan yesterday making everyone’s knickers very twisty or moist in anticipation that Milan will be forced to sell the prodigious young forward.

    It appears that Roman has been watching Withnail and I and simply ‘must have him – even if it’s burglary’.  

It would be interesting to see Abramovich lead an invasion on Italian shores with the help of his fleet of luxury boats. See old peg leg storming the beaches like a scurvy loving bastard, and start snatching players a la Chitty Chitty Bang Bang’s ‘child catcher’.

    I do hope that we start to bolster our squad soon, with news that Benzema is now a Real Madrid player we are starting to look a bit old and rigid.

    Apparently, we are ‘touching cloth’ close to signing Zhirkov. I think he’ll be a great addition to the squad. Whether or not we can snatch someone like Ribery or Sneijder for midfield and Pato upfront remains to be seen.

    So get in the crow’s nest and keep ya bleeding eye-patch open to the horizon. It’s time to snare some loot!

T.C.S

Rejection, rejection, rejection… What’s the bloody point? No-one wants to come to Chelsea – boo hoo. I might as well just fucking end it all.

    Only kidding, you’ve probably been wondering where I’ve been. It’s a long story so I’ll skip to the end ‘…it was then I had to tear through the stomach of the camel to avoid freezing in the unforgiving desert nights outside the Ahaggar Mountains. When I eventually made it back to civilisation I wept, and decided never to go on holiday again…’

    So what’s happened? Nuffin’; absolutely nought. We have edged closer to signing Zhirkov but I’ll believe it when I see it. AC Milan really don’t want to part with Pato, I can see why, he’s a genius. And we have been linked with the new Kaka aka Sturridge from Manchester City (I literally can’t hide my disappointment).

    The only football on telly has been the Confederations Cup, which is apparently been held in a jam jar with buzzing flies this year. Is it me or is that noise ominous to the point of being Hitchcock-esque? However, it did highlight the rather brilliant talent of Maicon (a name, amongst others, that refuses to go away). He was fantastic all cup and kept Dani Alves out of the starting XI, no mean feat. If a deal can be done to offload the gimmer brothers Deco and Carvalho to Inter in exchange for Papa Maicon, we should definitely do it.

    Like many of you, I have turned my attention to summer sports. Some more successfully than others, Cricket (sorry is that a sport? It looks like absolute wank). So tennis it is, though I found myself reluctantly cheering Murray last night, a man so dour and dull he makes nu-rave neon look like fucking Farrow & Ball.

    Anyway, I’ll try and keep my sanity through this football-less season. Who knows, maybe Federer will decide to take an impromptu penalty on centre court and smash the ball into Murray’s miserable mush. Proceeded by a lap of honour during which he’ll swing his shirt around his head with wild abandon.

     Actually, that never happens in tennis…

T.C.S

'Erm, you have some bullshit on your face.'

At times, the summer transfer sagas and rumours feel like wading knee deep in thick bullshit. It seems the only people able to stay afloat are the agents.

   The way we ingest news has changed dramatically, and something I’m very aware of avoiding is a blog that simply reiterates news seen elsewhere. Breaking news is inevitably tepid by the time it reaches the ‘blogosphere’. You didn’t hear it from the horse’s mouth, because the horse works for one of the following.

    So here is The Chelsea Smile’s best pick of a bad bunch. Forget the newspapers, this is tomorrows news – today! Whatever. Just read it…

  Fanciful – Sky Sports News

Arguably the fastest website and channel to carry news straight from agent Nigel Backhander to a journalists trembling hands. Sometimes, you can catch a hurried job to get a story out by the accompanied spelling mistakes. The haste in which they want to ejaculate the story across the computer screen means their hands are no longer in control. They report on virtually anything, rarely reveal their leads, and are responsible for a lot of misquotes, in turn fuelling the great big bullshit machine. Their range is vast however, and do excellent live sports coverage.

  Snide but occasionally funny – Football365.com

Known for occasionally cocky remarks, this is the joker in the pack. Their angle is free from club-willed censorship, meaning they get to say the things most of us think. (You want to braid Torres’s hair? No one else was thinking that you freak…) They dissect the newspapers ramblings with an attitude that says ‘so what? It’s only the gutter press’, but as that makes up the bulk of their features they’d be stuck without them. Well rounded but at times viciously opinionated, they have carved themselves a niche in an often drab journalistic environment.

  Fantasy – Goal.com

This website is the equivalent of the madman screaming about God and heresy in the high street. About to spin off the planet, but fascinating to watch. It’s never a quiet day on Goal.com, feeling more like a mad hatter’s tea party, so approach with a pinch of salt. Today’s news is that we are going in for Torres, as I said, completely bonkers.

  Sensible- bbc.com/sport

I don’t know if it’s the slightly drab colours, or the gravitas of hearing from a trusted old friend but the beeb manage to convey stories calmly, sceptically (for the most part) and rarely feature news from outside club representatives. The coverage is definitely mute compared to the latter but when a football story is like a snowflake in your hand, sometimes it’s nice when a grain of truth remains.

  Let me know if you agree/disagree with any of the following, or the websites you while away on when you should be picking your kids up from school.

T.C.S

This is the closest image I could get to Ricardo Carvalho...

If the plaintive sounds emitting from the papers are to be believed, Carvalho looks set to jump ship out of Chelsea this summer. Many supporters, including myself, are asking – have we done enough to keep him? After five years of performing consistently well, the Portu-geezer is contemplating calling time on his career at the Bridge in exchange for working under his pal Mourinho.

    I for one want to see him stay, but with the emergence of Mancienne and Alex a start in the first XI is far from guaranteed. Alex has come on leaps and bounds, an absolute Brazilian powerhouse instead of the creepy bald bloke hanging out at the back. Not to mention his banging free-kicks.

    Having faced much of the season on the bench (probably listening to Drogba’s shit jokes) through injury, Carvalho is apparently unimpressed by the medical treatment he received. He’s obviously never been operated on by a backstreet dentist with a coat hanger and gin as anaesthetic.

    It’s difficult to comment on what has been happening behind closed doors, but we face losing a very good defender here.

    He has been part a huge part of the success we have had here since the buckeroos came flooding in all those years ago.

Here is a list of his honours (enough to make a grown man blush really):

FC Porto

• Portuguese Liga: 1998-99, 2002-03, 2003-04
• Portuguese Cup: 2002-03
• UEFA Champions League: 2003-04
• UEFA Cup: 2002-03

 Chelsea

• Premier League: 2004–05, 2005-06
• FA Cup: 2006–07, 2008–09
• FA Community Shield: 2005
• Carling Cup: 2005, 2007

 Individual

• Portuguese Footballer of the Year: 2002-03
• UEFA Club Best Defender of the Year: 2003-04
• UEFA Team of the Year: 2003-04
• UEFA Euro Team of the Tournament: 2004
• FIFA World Cup All-Star Team: 2006
• Chelsea Players' Player of the Year: 2007-08

(I craftily nicked these from Wikipedia, no one’s noticed yet.)

If you do go, you will be sorely missed. Oh, and could you take Deco with you?

T.C.S

Malouda to Barcelona, not jettisoned into the never-reaches of space as most Chelsea fans would hope.

Word on the street is Malouda is set to leave Chelsea this summer, but before you go celebrating around the maypole, I’ll elaborate this story. You see, contrary to what you expect Malouda isn’t being forcibly removed from the Bridge, shoved into a rocket and expelled into space. No, apparently he’s linked with Barcelona.

     Of course, it all makes sense now. Messi, Henry and Malouda – doesn’t really sound right does it? So what massive fibs have we told the European champions to sell the often useless winger, and for 20 million Euros no less? Have they seen him? He’d be more useful as a fucking grounds-men than a footballer.  

    It is easy to assume why Onion Head might not feature in Ancelotti’s plans, rubbish control, speculative shooting, a lack of pace, passing and general inability all round. I did notice he perked up towards the end of the season, a little later than you may have wanted. I mean it’s only been two years since he’s been loitering at Chelsea.

    Can anyone really see him commanding first team football at Barcelona? Do they really know what they are getting themselves in for? He’s 29 now, and if he’s past his best, his best went unnoticed.

    On a brighter note, we may see the rather brilliant Maldini amongst our staff next season. Not exactly sure what he’ll be doing, I’m sure we’ll find a position for him somewhere… Amateur surgeon perhaps? His son is following in dad’s footsteps and his part of the Milan youth set up. Check out the little blighter here. Pretty good, eh?

     Anyway, if either story came true I’d be thrilled.

T.C.S

Chelsea are going through their most awkward of stages.

This summer, in a breezy bout of pre season scheduled football, Chelsea will be participating in the World Football Challenge. I know what you’re thinking, after the heartbreak of missing out on yet another Champions League, this is the perfect antidote. Think of this competition as more important than the World Cup, hell, think of it as important as fucking Stalingrad if you want. We’re coming to the States baby!

    So who are we pitted against? Club America. Ok, they’re going downtown (downtown Texas to be precise) for a spanking. Who’s next? A.C Milan and Inter Milan? Oh…this going to be awkward.

    What with Ancelotti’s recent move from A.C and Mourinho at Inter, this is like going to be a party attended exclusively by your exes. Exes that know how well you perform in bed, know what makes you tick, and despise you with all the scorn they can muster. Christ, it’s going to look like Agincourt after this falafel.

     Is it too late to apologise? Almost certainly, among the shoe gazing awkwardness, the ‘how are you getting on’ politesse, there is going to be a lust for revenge.

     All those words said unsaid, all those stolen glances, why did you go? DO YOU REMEMBER THE GOOD TIMES? DID THEY MEAN NOTHING?

     I know where my alliances lie, do you? Come on Chelsea, get your booty call and then never call them back.

T.C.S

Ladies and Gentlemen: thank you for joining us at our Casino Night here at The Chelsea Smile. Please enjoy yourselves, the roulette table is to your right, where Mike Ashley is sitting glum-faced. What can I say? You win some, you relegate some.

    Relax, let me take your coats. Enjoy the buffet…erm, sorry, thought I saw Wenger shoving chipolatas into his pockets – saving some for later the cheapskate. Try your luck at the Harry Redknapp poker table, see if you can guess who his summer targets are, careful though he never gives anything away. Drinks are on Real baby, let’s rock this party!

    With Real Madrid’s accountant presumed dead and missing, two ball achingly massive bids were lodged for Kaka, and today’s, which is in the region of 80 million big Kahunas (pounds) for hairdresser Cristiano ‘Vagina’ Ronaldo.

     The transfer barrier looks set to be repeatedly manhandled this summer, like poor Mary Jane Puresnatch in the back of a Vauxhall. It’s been a while (2001 to be precise), but we are now seeing an age of hurling money into the wind as if that were the answer to stopping climate change.

    The gambles are huge and the bigger clubs are jostling to show each other how big their dicks are, the Champions League means everything to people like Perez and Abramovich. The stakes are immeasurably high when the cash is this big, and without anyone forecasting what happens if the player doesn’t perform or gets injured.

     You put the money down and pray that things gel, but as we know and as J.Lo has said many times, ‘my love don’t cost a thing’, or the other one, ‘I’m still Jenny from the block’. Ah, les mots justes.

     I caught up with a very tipsy Nigel Backhander by the bar and he had this to say:

‘Listen kid, people say that money is ruining football, well fack ‘em. These people don’t know their arsehole from their elbow! I’m going to be as rich as Croesus. Oi barmaid, gis’ a couple of bevies. Cheers sugar tits.’

     Well that concludes it, today we have learnt that J.Lo was right, Real Madrid currently have the biggest dick, and Wenger is an appetiser-stealing fuck.

Good Night!

T.C.S

 'What's wrong with Chelsea's Kids?'

Lampard recently vented frustrations concerning the Chelsea youth academy that are echoed all over the club. Few opportunities have arisen in the first eleven for young players, and even fewer for home grown talent.

    Franco Di Santo was bought in last year but has been sidelined to ten minutes a game, and those opportunities have been as forthcoming as Honduras’s rain of fishes. In contrast Alexander Pato who is 19, has been involved in much of AC Milan’s campaign and notched up fifteen goals in Serie A. He was so highly rated Nike based an ad campaign before he had even appeared in a Milan shirt. And guess what? He’s the next in line to be linked with us. He turned us down for Milan two years ago but may be prepared to follow Ancelotti to Chelsea. If you have a problem with sloppy-seconds, stick your hand up. Thought not.

    If true, this is fantastic news but it doesn’t give us the advantage of clubs with prolific youth academies. A shame as that has been an area that has received a lot of investment over the years. This may be down to our jittery relationships with managers at the moment, and hopefully Ancelotti will right some of those wrongs. Then we can stop pestering West Ham for their younglings.

     The two names I’d want to see this summer are Pato and Aguero. They are young, experienced, not to mention prodigious talents.

     T.C.S correspondent and super-agent Nigel Backhander had this to say:

‘Sign him, and then sign him again. The lads bangtidy, I’d sell my own daughter to manage this talent. It’d be a larvely bit of busi. £25 million and fiddy pence – take it or leave it.’

T.C.S