History in the making

It has been a long time since Newcastle United beat Chelsea in the league – 1986 to be precise.  Yet, if there ever a chance to end that barren run it was last night.  Central defenders Gary Cahill and David Luiz were both injured, with no cover, needing a utility man to step into the breach.  Also, while this would be the Magpies’ third game in 21 days, Chelsea were facing their sixth in 18 days.  It was opportune that this would be the occasion that I would visit Stamford Bridge for the first time, to witness in the flesh the Toon victory.

Contrary to the commonly held perceptions about Chelsea, the ticketing wasn’t exorbitant for a one-off.  I secured a seat for £23.50.  The sightlines were slightly obscured in one corner but a giant TV remedied any action that was blocked out.  As I travelled along the District Line Tube, then trying to accelerate, the exasperated driver came over the speaker system to ask people to refrain from leaning against the doors, apparently the source of the bumps slowing the train. When compliance was slow in coming, he iterated that there were two services no more than a few minutes behind for both.  To cap it all, he said “there were a lot of Chelsea fans on this train,” as if that would spark an exodus from those not associated with the club.  Nice to know Chelsea supporters still retain an unsavoury reputation.  That was the case on the way home by Tube, when a woman enquired about the score – “Oh Chelsea, lost 2-0. Good!” – before suddenly realising that she was surrounded by the fans of that club filing in through the doors.  She sat in her seat with her mouth over her hand for a full minute.

Stamford Bridge is a fantastic stadium.  I got there early to take in the surroundings from my vantage point in the Matthew Harding Stand.  Not as good as St James’ Park, but second to no others that I have visited.  The Blues’ cosmopolitan support was indicated by the numerous banners from around the world – Malta, Singapore, East Cornwall.  Yes, that’s right, East Cornwall.  Well, the Cornish do like to see themselves as a separate ethnic entity.  The banners ranged from the exotic – plus those named, Slovenia, Cyprus, Hungary, Sweden, the UAE and parts of the USA had their own fliers – to the fairly local such as from Lincolnshire and the East Midlands (because there are no big teams in these areas of the country, are there, some might carp.  I certainly can’t).  Behind me, a set of fans from across the Channel exhorted Chelsea in French throughout the whole match.

The Stamford faithful are the most passionate London supporters I’ve come across.  Years of glory have not dulled their edge and there was no occasion at which the away support could deride the home section’s commitment to their team.  Though there were moans and groans as the game progressed with misplaced passes and sweet United interplay, visceral exhortations of the name ‘Chelsea’ were soon again on the lips of all around me.  There were also ditties from the ‘Que sera sera’ selection, focusing more on going to Germany than Wembley, though trips to both await.

Noticing the big guns such as Frank Lampard, Ashley Cole, Didier Drogba and Juan Mata were on the bench gave me further hope for this evening, in full knowledge that three of those big guns would come on were the night turning against Roberto di Matteo’s side.  After a vigorous start to the match by the Blues, Newcastle gradually grew into the game and when Papiss Demba Cissé’s first of the night was rifled into the net, it was not against the run of play.  With the goal providing a spring in the step, the black-and-whites (thankfully dispensing with the garish orange away strip for this fixture) starting to make the Blues’ players look like mugs.  Demba Ba also rattled the crossbar.  One frustrated Chelsea shouted “Terry, sort it f***ing out” as the captain was the only one performing in his team.  Promptly, Terry lost the ball easily.

They obviously got a rollicking at half-time for they come out early, Mata joining the party, ominously reminding of when Fulham did the same earlier in the season after a sub-par first half from the home team.  That went very badly.  There was some sustained pressure but Newcastle were doing to Chelsea what Chelsea did to Barcelona.  There was poor penetration and wasteful finishing, as Newcastle gave almost everything to the cause to prevent a Blue resurgence.  This was exemplified by Cheick Tiote.  He suffered a crack on the head with a massive gash.  At the time, this was unknown apart from he was lying on the floor with a host of medical officials surrounding him.  He was kicking his feet but it was hard to know if that was spasm or not.  A group of Chelsea fans did a chant of “Let him die, let him die, let him die” which was not only disgusting but on the night when Fabrice Muamba was returning to Bolton Wanderers’ ground to watch the other match taking place since his heart attack, it was particularly vile.  However, when Tiote was stretchered off, the entire ground rose to their feet to give him an ovation – the decency of the majority over a few idiots.

Newcastle never regained their fluency after the injury, though Tiote’s replacement, Ryan Taylor, is an able player in his own right.  In the last fifteen minutes, Chelsea applied some ferocious sustained force on the Newcastle goal but when they did beat goalkeeper Tim Krul, Davide Santon was on the line to head it away.  Then, in a Magpie breakaway came Cissé’s wonder goal, midway through the ten minutes of injury time.  From the other end of the ground, it was virtually in slow motion.  Can it be in?  Can it be in?  It’s in!  Game over.  In real time, it can a little difficult to fully appreciate a goal’s craft.  Usually, it’s ‘bam’, and before you’ve truly taken it in, the ball is nestling in the net.  Yet this was outstanding.  On the surface, I was poker face, yet inwardly I was brimming with joy, just as I was wearing a Newcastle Utd replica shirt under my office clothes (I came straight from work).  I did a little neutral bodily movement as well as it was hard to contain myself.  Watching the replays on YouTube, Cissé’s goals get better and better with every viewing.

The squad had taken their eye off the ball at Wigan, thinking of this match rather than the one they were playing last Saturday.  Well, at least that didn’t go to waste.  A clean sheet was an added bonus.  Even after the second goal, Chelsea didn’t give up, even with snatching a draw forlorn – anything to give their fans something to cheer.  But Krul dealt with it efficiently.  He was booked for time wasting and the referee added it on at the end of the game anyway but unlike at Arsenal it did not come back to haunt us.  What personally concerned Krul more than a yellow card was another shutout and from a Newcastle perspective, that is always welcome.  This win kept the Toon’s Champion League challenge alive, only one point off third, while effectively ending that of Chelsea’s (via the Premier League at least).  I think the League Cup triumph at Stamford Bridge in October 2010 was vital in ending doom and gloom about coming to this part of west London for the players.  Those still on the wage list could imbue with confidence the newcomers that it is possible to do something here. That was evident in the 2-2 draw last season.  The man who scored the winning goal that day, Shola Ameobi, made a cameo for the last twenty minutes of the game.  First win at Chelsea in the top-flight league football for more than a quarter of a century, first ever in the Premier League.  I was there for this historic, brilliant night.