//------------------------------// // They Think it's All Over // Story: Over Land and Sea // by Wessexbrony //------------------------------// “It is always darkest just before the dawn.”- source unknown “If you’re going through Hell, keep going.”- Winston Churchill As much as things were looking up on the football front, it became clear as December wore on that Dinky was becoming increasingly homesick. She had slept facing Hyde Park, where the embassy was located, almost since arriving in London, and I had not failed to notice the longing tone in her voice when she had told me about Sugarcube Corner, and its speciality hot chocolate which came practically buried under a mountain of cream and marshmallows. And, of course, there was the daily postcard or letter from Ponyville which she would add to the collection in her bedroom, which had started with the poem which had arrived in London the day after she had. You didn't have to be Albert Einstein to know who was sending them. Sunday 10th December “Sorry to keep you waiting,” I said, as Dinky and I joined Rainbow Dash outside the building, Dinky hastily wiping specks of custard off her face from her apple crumble, “We were watching the FA Cup 3rd Round draw.” “Who did we get?” Rainbow Dash asked. “We’re away to Watford.” Dinky replied. “That’s got to favour us, surely.” “Yes, I know. You said it would hurt the team.” I said to Rainbow Dash as the final whistle blew. Just when it seemed things had been looking up, yet another setback had occurred, this time against Manchester City. Things had started badly when veteran striker Paul Dickov had given the visitors the lead after just ten minutes. Fontana had equalised just after half time, but had spent the best part of the game going for glory as opposed to playing in his teammates. And with two minutes to go, a free kick had found Joey Barton, who had volleyed the ball past Cech to give City the three points. With Arsenal and Liverpool both winning, Chelsea had dropped to 4th, and Manchester United had won 2-0 at Charlton to maintain their 5-point lead. And that was before I received a letter back from Autumn which offered an irritatingly vague explanation of “Problems with the form”. Thursday 14th December “So that means AS Roma will face Manchester United. Next tie…” The UEFA executive reached into a bowl of plastic footballs marked “runners-up”, and opened one. “Ajax, will face...AC Milan.” “At least we avoided them,” I said, as the next runner-up was drawn. “Chelsea, will face…Galatasaray.” “Oh, that’s just brilliant.” The draw for the Champions League round of 16 did not go unnoticed. The war of words between Mourinho and Galatasaray had escalated ever since the middle of October, after Carvalho had needed a second operation on his foot. To make matters worse, that seemed to be the least of Chelsea’s worries. Fontana’s attitude had been brought under question following the introduction of Danny Doyle, and there were rumours of conflict in the dressing room. Fontana, meanwhile, claimed that he was committed to Chelsea, and as far as the fans were concerned, a tough away trip to Newcastle the following Sunday seemed to be the perfect opportunity to prove it. In addition, Everton had beaten Manchester United 3-2 at Goodison Park in the Saturday lunchtime kick off, so a win was imperative to cut the gap on them back to five points. With Drogba still not fit, Doyle started up front with Fontana. And coupled with Chelsea’s less-than-stellar record at St James’ Park in recent years, with the Toon Army looking to break into the top six, it seemed that this was where Fontana had to justify his price tag. “Well, it’s been fairly even here so far,” Kick Off said, as the match entered its fifteenth minute, “But it’s Lampard, passes to Fontana. Fontana has Doyle and Lampard as options, but he’s gone for it himself...and that was a very poor effort.” “It's Dyer now,” Kick Off continued, “And he's looking to create something here. It's a good pass, too. Here's Obafemi Martins taking over, he's got into the area, and he scores! A great move by Newcastle, and they lead with twenty minutes gone, but it all stemmed from Fontana carelessly giving the ball away!” Things didn't get any better as the game wore on. “Here's Robben,” Kick Off said, as the second half began. “He plays it to Lampard, now Fontana taking over, Doyle's calling for it, Fontana looks to go it alone, and he's crowded out by Babayaro and N’Zogbia.” “Just over 25 minutes left, and it's a corner to Newcastle. Duff to take, against his former club. Floats it into the area, up goes Steven Taylor, it's in! The Chelsea defenders are looking at each other, as if to say 'Who was marking him’ and it's now two-nil to Newcastle!” “Into the last ten minutes, and it's Essien, plays a through pass to Doyle. Doyle goes for it from the edge of the area, and that's so unlucky! Off the crossbar, and it's hacked clear by Taylor!” “And there's the final whistle, a poor performance by Chelsea there, which will not do their title hopes any good, and now Terry and Fontana are arguing about something, and... goodness me! Fontana has shoved Terry in the chest! Lampard and Duff are now keeping the two apart, Mourinho is absolutely furious, and it looks as though we are seeing Chelsea's title challenge disintegrate!” Newcastle United 2-0 Chelsea (Martins 20, Taylor 63) Premier League Table 1 Man Utd 41pts 2 Arsenal 37pts 3 Liverpool 36pts 4 Chelsea 33pts 5 Tottenham 31pts 6 Bolton 31pts 7 Newcastle 29pts The walk back from St James’ Park to the station was only half a mile, but it seemed like the distance between Newcastle and London. As the supporters’ charter train picked up speed on its run south, Dinky made her way to the toilet at the end of the carriage, locked the door, and allowed the tears to start falling. In Ponyville, tears ran down Derpy's face as she looked at a picture of her and Dinky that had been taken the previous Mother's Day, as Kick Off's line “we are seeing Chelsea's title challenge disintegrate!” played in her head. Twilight and Rainbow Dash sat either side of her, each of them having put a foreleg around her. Monday 18th December “...with several of Europe’s top clubs monitoring the situation, Mourinho has said that Fontana is crucial to Chelsea.” “As if anypony believes that,” Autumn muttered to herself as she went to make a cup of tea and see if there was any cake left in the kitchen. “You haven’t seen Belladonna anywhere, have you?” she asked Lyra about five minutes later. “She went off somewhere for the afternoon,” Lyra replied. “Said it was important, and when I asked her she said that I should mind my own business.” “You don’t think…” Autumn tailed off, suddenly not feeling particularly hungry or thirsty. “You.”Rainbow Dash growled, glaring at Belladonna. “Me.” “You’ve got some nerve showing your face around here.” Rainbow Dash continued, as she and Twilight closed ranks in front of Derpy. “That’s no way to talk to a high-ranking public servant” - Rainbow Dash snorted at this - “such as myself.” “What do you want?” Twilight asked. “Well, Chelsea’s recent form is very concerning, isn’t it?” Belladonna said, not sounding at all concerned. “Losing their last two matches, infighting in the squad…” “Get to the point,” Twilight interjected. “I think that if Chelsea fall out of the top four - and I believe they face Liverpool on Saturday, don’t they? - then it’ll be time to blow the final whistle on this silly agreement.” Belladonna concluded, and walked away. As Twilight put a wing around Derpy, it took virtually all of her magic to stop Rainbow Dash from going after Belladonna and beating seven bells out of her. “We have to win on Saturday.” “Indeed,” I replied, a bit puzzled as to why Derpy had rung up - she didn’t normally make phone calls. “If we want to win the title, then-” “No, you don’t-you don’t understand! We have to win, or they’ll-they’ll cancel the agreement!” “What?” “If we-If we drop below fourth; If-if B-Bol-Bolton win, or T-Tottenham win, and-and we lose, then that’s it! Belladonna's going to pull the plug and I’ll ne-nev-I’ll never see my muffin again!” My heart dropped like a stone as I tried to process what I’d just been told, as Derpy spoke again. “Please, let me speak to her.” “It’s for you,” I said, as I handed Dinky the receiver with a growing feeling of dread. “Mommy?” Dinky asked. “Whatever happens, Muffin, don’t worry about me. Just..don’t forget me.” “Mommy, what’s going-” “I love you, Muffin, and-and I'll always love you.” Derpy said, her voice audibly cracking as she began to cry, and hung up. Then, as Rainbow Dash rushed over, she slumped to the floor and wept. “What’s going on?” Dinky asked, as she turned to face me. “It’s like the day I was taken! Please tell me!” I sighed. “Dinky, if-if we lose on Saturday, and Bolton or Tottenham win, then we'll drop out of the top four. And if we drop out of the top four, Belladonna’s going to cancel the agreement about the treble. I’m-I’m so sorry...” I couldn't think of anything that might have comforted her, and all I could do was hug her as she sobbed uncontrollably into my chest. Saturday 23rd December “You really don’t have to do this.” Rainbow Dash told Derpy, as the kick off time approached. “I’m not going to give her the satisfaction,” Derpy responded, as Twilight showed up. “At any rate, I’ll be with you.” Twilight interjected. “And me.” Rainbow Dash added, but Derpy shook her head. “You’ve been here for me all week,” she said. “You have a season ticket. Go to the match.” Rainbow Dash looked at Twilight, who nodded. She began to set off, but turned around. “Derpy, look at me.” she said. “We will. Beat. Liverpool.” “Two defeats on the bounce and rumours of conflict in the dressing room are not welcome news for Chelsea,” Kick Off said, as the cameras showed the fans arriving at the ground, “and the visit of Liverpool today will not make things any easier. The Reds are looking to bounce back from losing 1-0 at Arsenal last weekend, and…” Rainbow Dash and I glanced at each other as the three of us took our seats at the ground. Neither of us could have imagined what must be going through Dinky’s mind, although she’d rejected my offer of staying in the flat and watching the game on TV. At any rate, the tension in the ground was so thick you could have spread it on toast, and even The Liquidator seemed forced as the teams made their way onto the pitch. “...and that was late by Terry, and the referee is reaching for a card here...and it’s red!” If the mood had been grim beforehand, it was getting a lot grimmer now. Liverpool had edged the opening 25 minutes, and a rare Chelsea attack had seen Fontana give the ball away. Craig Bellamy had looked to counter, and had been brought down by the Chelsea captain, who was now going for an early bath. Thankfully, Gerrard spooned the free kick over the bar, but Mourinho needed to make a change, and Fontana’s number came up as he brought Paulo Ferreira on to fill the gap in defence. The Spaniard did not take it well, storming down the tunnel without even looking at his manager. "Hang in there, Derpy," Lyra thought to herself, as she entered the waiting room at Canterlot Central station. She noticed that there was a television showing the match next to the departure boards. "It's been all Liverpool since the red card," Kick Off said, "And the Reds come forward once again. Here's Gerrard, passes to Sissoko out wide. Sissoko takes on Ferreira and looks to cross. Oh, and there's been a mix-up there at the back, and Kovac manages to scramble it clear ahead of Kuyt. Petr Cech definitely unhappy with his defence, and Mourinho is bellowing at his back four to concentrate. How he must be missing Terry and Carvalho." "We've seen nowhere near enough from Chelsea as we enter the final two minutes of the half. But that's a good ball from Lampard, and now Robben is on the left. He's got past Finnan, goes for the cross..." "Go on!" Lyra shouted. "Drogba with the volley...and it fizzes just wide of the post! How close Chelsea came there, it's actually the closest either side has come to scoring in this match..." "The train on Platform 4 is now boarding. This train is for Coltenham, calling at Ponyville, Neighsingstoke..." "I'm coming, Derpy," Lyra thought, as the Standard Class 5 at the head of her train got underway. Liverpool continued to dominate into the second half, as it seemed to follow a pattern; either Mohamed Sissoko or Jermaine Pennant would send a cross into the area, which would then be headed clear. Chelsea attacked again, midway through the second half, with a shot from Drogba being saved by Reina in the Liverpool goal before Lampard hit the side netting. As the game entered the last fifteen minutes, both Gerrard and Kuyt were denied by Petr Cech as Chelsea somehow continued to hold on and a cross from Gerrard was headed clear with four minutes remaining. As the fourth official held up his board to indicate added time, Liverpool looked to attack once more. Dinky, as she had done at Fratton Park back in September, shut her eyes and looked away. “I’m sorry, but it’s time.” “If we drop out of the top four, Belladonna's going to cancel the agreement.” “The only thing I ask of you, for whom I’ll always pine, Please, please don’t forget me, that way-” “Take him on!” "Get into the box!" "Cross it!" Dinky was suddenly awoken - and nudged, by Rainbow Dash - from her thoughts by several nearby fans' exclamations. Liverpool’s attack had broken down, with Essien winning the ball and passing to Joe Cole out wide. Cole had gone on a storming run down the right, leaving Fabio Aurelio trailing in his wake as he took the ball level with the penalty spot and shaped to cross. “Someone’s going to have to get on the end of that…” I muttered. And someone did. Breaking free as soon as the ball was crossed, Drogba beat Carragher into the area and sent the ball rocketing into the net with a left-footed volley that gave Reina no chance. “Derpy, look! Look! Look, Derpy, they’ve won!” Derpy opened her eyes and peeked out from behind her wing to see Drogba, followed by several team-mates, racing away towards the Chelsea dugout while the Liverpool players berated each other and Kick Off sang the praises of what he called “a fantastic counter-attack! And Chelsea, who have been on the back foot throughout, are going to come away from this with an absolutely vital win! A win which ensures that they will be in the top four at the end of the day, regardless of how Bolton and Tottenham do later...” Barely two minutes later, Mike Riley blew the final whistle, and Blue is the Colour blared out of the tannoy. To Dinky, it was possibly one of the most beautiful sounds she’d ever heard. Chelsea 1-0 Liverpool (Drogba 90+2, Terry s/o 26) Premier League Table (*Indicates team yet to play) 1 Man Utd 41pts* 2 Arsenal 37pts* 3 Liverpool 36pts 4 Chelsea 36pts 5 Tottenham 31pts* 6 Bolton 31pts*