Back in August 2011, when cooking up this adventure with lifelong Villa fan John Burns, never did I foresee a situation where I would be actively following the fortunes of my big local rivals. However, on a sunny Saturday afternoon in London, this is where I found myself. The draw had meant I would be following Chelsea following their lucky defeat of QPR in the previous round, and fate had demanded that they play Birmingham City at home. In recent weeks, I had visited the Chelsea website to research tickets and membership options, only to be immediately informed that membership for this season was closed. Hence, my best chance of getting a ticket to this game was in the away section, which meant watching the whole game surrounded by Birmingham City fans. I consoled myself in the days leading up to the game that, at least, it would be an experience.
And so it proved. I had acquired a ticket with my uncle, and met him at the top of the upper tier, right at the back of the Shed End, the view allowing us to survey the narrow Stamford Bridge pitch, and speculate on the chances of a Birmingham victory. As I looked round nervously at the Birmingham supporters, it suddenly occurred to me that I had an old Villa ticket stub in my coat pocket.
Certainly, as far as the football was concerned, it was hard not to hope for a safe passage to the next round for plucky Birmingham, who came to the Bridge with a game plan and a determined and focused attitude. Their aim, it was clear from the start, was to stifle Chelsea and restrict the space, preventing them from playing their normal fluid football. Thus Chelsea effectively moved from right to left, but found it difficult to make any inroads towards the Birmingham goal. Chelsea unfortunately, came with baggage; a world class striker who hadn't scored for years, a manager dramatically losing the support of the players, a Russian owner who is probably becoming increasingly disillusioned with the fortunes of his club.
And for Chelsea it showed. They dominated possession in a way which you would expect, but lacked a cutting edge going forward. Their lone ranger Torres, looking increasingly forlorn, was almost invisible.
Birmingham's plan, though untidy, was working. The result was a messy stalemate which took hold of the game until midway through the first half when Birmingham, incredibly, gained a remarkable advantage, thanks to some woeful Chelsea defending. They had threatened a couple of times already with corners, and with Chelsea failing to deal with yet another, it was left to David Murphy to smash in from close range for the Blues. Cue hysterical celebrations. For the neutrals among us, there was more, as Chelsea gained a penalty barely minutes after Birmingham's goal, this time Sturridge going down after a sloppy challenge inside the area. As he does. The penalty was saved however, to the delight of an increasingly jubilant set of away fans, and it suddenly looked like Birmingham's day.
They did well to make it to half time, though the substitute of Torres for Drogba was an ominous sign that things were going to change. Chelsea predictably began the second half with more verve and pace going forward, pushing Birmingham back, leaving their only attacking threats of Rooney and Redmond isolated. Midway through the second half, the inevitable happened.
And so the game ended as it had began, both teams had had a go, both had cancelled each other out. The last twenty minutes returned the match to its stalemate-like status. It should be noted that Birmingham had chances to win that were hopelessly squandered, with their young star Nathan Redmond being the guilty party, shooting tamely at Cech just minutes before the end.
The tie is indeed delicately poised, for Chelsea their recent troubles seem to continue, the last thing they would want is the prospect of a replay on a Tuesday night away in Birmingham. For the Blues however, they must surely view this game as a job well done, and will relish the prospect of taking on the London club at home in front of their own fans. As for myself, as if an away tie with Birmingham wasn't punishment enough, my next move in this FA Cup adventure sees me, as a lifelong Villa fan, go to St Andrews on the 6th March. And with the way the competition is going this year, with Manchester Utd, Manchester City, Arsenal all out, a Birmingham City victory is probably my best chance of getting to a Wembley final.
Sunday, 19 February 2012
Friday, 3 February 2012
QPR 0 Chelsea 1
HAHA! Gotchya! Bet you didn't think Id be writing this little number did you? As it happens, just acquiring a ticket for this game was a drama in itself. Days of emails to the FA and phone calls to QPR had yielded no results, 3 days before the game I was almost giving up.
In the end, I have Rebecca, of the QPR ticket office to thank, though why they chose to send me my ticket to my home address, when I told them I would collect it from the Box Office I don't know.
And so there I was, just after 9am on Saturday morning, taking a gentle walk along South Africa Road, to pick up my ticket. To say that I was excited for this tie was a complete understatement; despite QPR being incredibly lucky in both games against the Dons, they now found themselves facing their formidable local rivals, Chelsea of Kings Road. To add even more spice to the mix, it was the first meeting between Mr Terry and Mr Ferdinand since allegations of racism had marked the last match between the two clubs.
The atmosphere was extremely tense, police vans, and dogs, everywhere, blokes hanging around shouting for tickets. Half an hour before kick off, the Chelsea team ran on to warm up, to a chorus of jeers and boos from the majority of the crowd. Cries of 'SCUM, SCUM' ripped through the midday sunshine like lightening, with special treatment reserved for the Chelsea captain. It is definitely the most violent atmosphere I had seen at a football match. Fans had been speculating about whether the 'handshake' would happen or not, and in the end we were robbed of finding out, as the FA cowardly decided to forget about fair play, conveniently disregard the anti racism campaign, and cancelled it. To the astonishment of both sets of fans, the 22 players merely ran onto the pitch and took up their positions.
The football, then, was always a secondary event. When it did happen, it was clear to all that Chelsea were by far the better team. QPR had a game plan, namely, to get men behind the ball, to restrict space for Chelsea to move, to prevent them from getting near their 18 yard box. Credit then, to QPR because for the entire first half, the plan worked. Chelsea, for their part, were content to get the ball on the floor and play from left to right, maybe to take the sting out of the atmosphere. Up front, their lone ranger, Torres, cut a forlorn figure.
It has been suggested by many in recent weeks that El Nino should leave Chelsea, that he isn't good enough, that he is not worth £50 million. I actually feel rather sorry for him. Its not his fault Chelsea spent £50 million. Its not his fault that he was offered the wages he is on. Its not his fault that he plays for a team who seem unable to give him the service he so badly needs. Torres huffed and puffed, but he was, as he so often has been this season, largely ineffective.
QPR on the other hand were bustling with talent, desire and great organisation, spearheaded by the return of their captain Joey Barton. Say what you like about JB, the fact is that he was pulling the strings for QPR throughout the first half. Everything the Hoops created consisted of a Barton pass or move; almost every chance created was from a Joey assist. He was their midfield general, their motivator, their engine. I am no fan of Joey, but it was great to see him play such a positive role in QPR's fortunes, so focused on the game, so calm on the ball.
Yet despite all of the classy possession by Chelsea and the verve and organisation of QPR, the first half ended in stalemate, the crowd amusing themselves with chants of 'We know what you said, we know what you said, John Terry we know what you said'.
The second half began in exactly the opposite fashion. Gone were the shackles of the first 45 minutes, gone was the nervous anticipation, gone was the fear. Both sets of players were up for it and it showed, the game quickly turned into attack v defence as Chelsea's monopoly on possession had given way to a more even game. That said, Chelsea still looked the better team on the ball, and as QPR began to lose discipline at the back, the Blues began to make more incisive runs, more telling crosses, forcing more hurried clearances from the Hoops defence.
Such a shame that the goal that would ultimately separate the two teams came from a blatant dive, an attempt to con the referee and rob the game of its hitherto respectful style of play. I couldn't see from where I was if it was a penalty or not, but TV replays show that Sturridge cheated, dived, simulated...call it what you will. It has no place on the football field. It was left to Chelsea's best player, Mata, to convert the chance and give advantage to blue half of West London.
Though QPR had barely created anything meaningful, I did feel sorry for them. The game quickly became a scrappy affair as things started to turn ugly. The fans were also doing their bit with chants of 'John Terry, your mum's a thief' and '1-0 to the racist scum' filling the air with hatred and anger. Ironically, it was in this moment of increasing bitterness, that one of the more humorous stories of the day took place:
The Loftus Road end has 3 gantries potruding from the upper tier, one on the left, one on the right, and one in the middle. The left gantry was occupied by a cameraman, the middle and right gantries empty. While Ramirez lay injured on the pitch for 6 minutes, one QPR fan decided to climb down from his seat, onto the right gantry, and, jumping up and down waving his Cockney hands in the air, began to lead the Loftus Road end in chants against Terry, Chelsea and the like. Stewards quickly tried to persuade the fan to climb back up, he ignored them. This bizarre situation only ended when a steward eventually climbed down onto the gantry with him, remonstrated with the plucky fellow, and then lifted him up by his legs, while a colleague pulled him back up by his arms. The fan was promptly escorted out of the stadium, to the cheers of thousands.
In the end, QPR could not find a way to equalize against their rivals. Chelsea had huffed and puffed, and when that failed, cheated their way into a Fifth Round tie. For John Terry and Anton Ferdinand though, things could have been a lot worse...imagine if they had had to shake? The result leaves QPR hopelessly dumped out of the only competition that could have bought them some success this season; instead they lie stagnant, close to the edge of the abyss of the Premier League.
Chelsea on the other hand, rightly or wrongly, now have an intriguing tie against Birmingham City to look forward to. Which leaves me, as a Villa fan, with the terrifying prospect of having to watch the fifth round of this great competition, in a stand full of Birmingham City fans...
In the end, I have Rebecca, of the QPR ticket office to thank, though why they chose to send me my ticket to my home address, when I told them I would collect it from the Box Office I don't know.
And so there I was, just after 9am on Saturday morning, taking a gentle walk along South Africa Road, to pick up my ticket. To say that I was excited for this tie was a complete understatement; despite QPR being incredibly lucky in both games against the Dons, they now found themselves facing their formidable local rivals, Chelsea of Kings Road. To add even more spice to the mix, it was the first meeting between Mr Terry and Mr Ferdinand since allegations of racism had marked the last match between the two clubs.
The atmosphere was extremely tense, police vans, and dogs, everywhere, blokes hanging around shouting for tickets. Half an hour before kick off, the Chelsea team ran on to warm up, to a chorus of jeers and boos from the majority of the crowd. Cries of 'SCUM, SCUM' ripped through the midday sunshine like lightening, with special treatment reserved for the Chelsea captain. It is definitely the most violent atmosphere I had seen at a football match. Fans had been speculating about whether the 'handshake' would happen or not, and in the end we were robbed of finding out, as the FA cowardly decided to forget about fair play, conveniently disregard the anti racism campaign, and cancelled it. To the astonishment of both sets of fans, the 22 players merely ran onto the pitch and took up their positions.
The football, then, was always a secondary event. When it did happen, it was clear to all that Chelsea were by far the better team. QPR had a game plan, namely, to get men behind the ball, to restrict space for Chelsea to move, to prevent them from getting near their 18 yard box. Credit then, to QPR because for the entire first half, the plan worked. Chelsea, for their part, were content to get the ball on the floor and play from left to right, maybe to take the sting out of the atmosphere. Up front, their lone ranger, Torres, cut a forlorn figure.
It has been suggested by many in recent weeks that El Nino should leave Chelsea, that he isn't good enough, that he is not worth £50 million. I actually feel rather sorry for him. Its not his fault Chelsea spent £50 million. Its not his fault that he was offered the wages he is on. Its not his fault that he plays for a team who seem unable to give him the service he so badly needs. Torres huffed and puffed, but he was, as he so often has been this season, largely ineffective.
QPR on the other hand were bustling with talent, desire and great organisation, spearheaded by the return of their captain Joey Barton. Say what you like about JB, the fact is that he was pulling the strings for QPR throughout the first half. Everything the Hoops created consisted of a Barton pass or move; almost every chance created was from a Joey assist. He was their midfield general, their motivator, their engine. I am no fan of Joey, but it was great to see him play such a positive role in QPR's fortunes, so focused on the game, so calm on the ball.
Yet despite all of the classy possession by Chelsea and the verve and organisation of QPR, the first half ended in stalemate, the crowd amusing themselves with chants of 'We know what you said, we know what you said, John Terry we know what you said'.
The second half began in exactly the opposite fashion. Gone were the shackles of the first 45 minutes, gone was the nervous anticipation, gone was the fear. Both sets of players were up for it and it showed, the game quickly turned into attack v defence as Chelsea's monopoly on possession had given way to a more even game. That said, Chelsea still looked the better team on the ball, and as QPR began to lose discipline at the back, the Blues began to make more incisive runs, more telling crosses, forcing more hurried clearances from the Hoops defence.
Such a shame that the goal that would ultimately separate the two teams came from a blatant dive, an attempt to con the referee and rob the game of its hitherto respectful style of play. I couldn't see from where I was if it was a penalty or not, but TV replays show that Sturridge cheated, dived, simulated...call it what you will. It has no place on the football field. It was left to Chelsea's best player, Mata, to convert the chance and give advantage to blue half of West London.
Though QPR had barely created anything meaningful, I did feel sorry for them. The game quickly became a scrappy affair as things started to turn ugly. The fans were also doing their bit with chants of 'John Terry, your mum's a thief' and '1-0 to the racist scum' filling the air with hatred and anger. Ironically, it was in this moment of increasing bitterness, that one of the more humorous stories of the day took place:
The Loftus Road end has 3 gantries potruding from the upper tier, one on the left, one on the right, and one in the middle. The left gantry was occupied by a cameraman, the middle and right gantries empty. While Ramirez lay injured on the pitch for 6 minutes, one QPR fan decided to climb down from his seat, onto the right gantry, and, jumping up and down waving his Cockney hands in the air, began to lead the Loftus Road end in chants against Terry, Chelsea and the like. Stewards quickly tried to persuade the fan to climb back up, he ignored them. This bizarre situation only ended when a steward eventually climbed down onto the gantry with him, remonstrated with the plucky fellow, and then lifted him up by his legs, while a colleague pulled him back up by his arms. The fan was promptly escorted out of the stadium, to the cheers of thousands.
In the end, QPR could not find a way to equalize against their rivals. Chelsea had huffed and puffed, and when that failed, cheated their way into a Fifth Round tie. For John Terry and Anton Ferdinand though, things could have been a lot worse...imagine if they had had to shake? The result leaves QPR hopelessly dumped out of the only competition that could have bought them some success this season; instead they lie stagnant, close to the edge of the abyss of the Premier League.
Chelsea on the other hand, rightly or wrongly, now have an intriguing tie against Birmingham City to look forward to. Which leaves me, as a Villa fan, with the terrifying prospect of having to watch the fifth round of this great competition, in a stand full of Birmingham City fans...
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