Over Land and Sea

by Wessexbrony

Keeping Pace

Monday 26th February

“So how do we go about this?” Autumn asked, as she and Lyra discussed the previous Thursday in her office. “If we march into Belladonna's office and say that Ruby Pinch is in no danger, she'll suspect something-”

“How ironic.” Lyra snorted.

“-and she's going to want answers at some point.”

“I've got it,” Lyra said after a moment, “We wait until next week, preferably Thursday or Friday, then we tell her that there's no risk. And if we both sign the report, it'll strengthen our case and weaken hers.”

“Meanwhile, I gave Berry my work number,” Autumn said, “If anypony else here tries anything, she's to ring me at once.”

“That sounds like a plan,” Lyra said, “Now, let's see what's on the radio.”

“... and following Saturday's win over Tottenham, Mourinho has revealed that confidence in the Chelsea camp is extremely high…”

“Did you see the match in Holland yesterday?” Lyra asked.

“You’re the one who follows the European leagues, not me. What happened?”

“AZ Alkmaar went to PSV and won 3-2.”

“... with sunny intervals through the week. And now, it's time for The Lunch Hour, and we begin with a regular favourite from Britain, it’s Club Foot by Kasabian…”

Saturday 3rd March

Chelsea (2nd) vs Portsmouth (7th)

“I really owe you after the Galatasaray game,” I said to Rainbow Dash, as the two of us joined her.

“Why, what happened?” Dinky asked.

“You fell asleep just after the players left the pitch,” I replied, “All the excitement of the second half wore you out. Rainbow Dash carried you back to the flat.”

“Hey, it was nothing,” Rainbow Dash replied, “After that comeback, I could have carried anything! Although, if you did have something in mind…”

“Well, it’s El Clasico next Saturday evening,” I said, “Barcelona versus Real Madrid. How would you like to come back to the flat and watch it with the two of us after the FA Cup game?”

“Wait. El Clasico? As in THE El Clasico?”

“The very same.”

“Are you kidding? I’ve always wanted to watch El Clasico!”

“You know, I think that it was a good idea of yours to go out this afternoon,” Autumn said to her husband as the two of them walked down Canterlot High Street. “A walk in the park followed by a drink at a cafe is the perfect thing to take my mind off what’s been happening at work lately.”

As the two of them entered the cafe and sat down, they realised that the radio was broadcasting from Stamford Bridge as the match approached the hour mark.

“...still Chelsea nil, Portsmouth one, but Chelsea continue to dominate, they should be at least two goals up, as they come forward again…”

For all Chelsea’s dominance, it was Portsmouth, chasing a UEFA Cup place, who had the lead. Richard Hughes had latched onto a pass from former Newcastle forward Lomana LuaLua in the twelfth minute, completely wrong-footing Cudicini to give the visitors the lead.

Chelsea had responded, and had come agonisingly close on numerous occasions, but David James, sensing that a place in the England squad was up for grabs, had put in a superb performance in goal, saving from Gudjohnsen, Lampard and Ballack.

As the match reached the hour mark, Chelsea’s latest attack saw Ballack race into the area, only to be brought down by Linvoy Primus. Mark Clattenburg promptly pointed to the spot.

“Well, this is a turning point in the match,” came the voice from the radio, “Chelsea have been on top all game, and if this goes in, it will surely provide the impetus for them to go on and win.”

Even Rainbow Dash fell silent as Frank Lampard placed the ball on the spot. He took two steps back, ran up...and saw his shot smack against the crossbar before being hacked clear by the Portsmouth defence.

“I don’t believe this!” Rainbow Dash exclaimed, as a deep groan emanated from virtually the entire stadium. I took another look down the pitch to the other end, where the same yellow earth pony from Fratton Park had leaped about a foot in the air. I then mentally pictured the league table. If United were to go twelve points clear...

Chelsea continued to attack, but it seemed that time was against them. However, with twenty minutes to go, Robben took the ball down the right and sent a cross into the area for Gudjohnsen. The Icelander met it with a diving header, and this time David James had no answer.

“What a header by Gudjohnsen!” exclaimed the commentator on the radio, “David James is finally beaten, and after the massive blow of that missed penalty, Chelsea are level with twenty minutes left!”

As the fans celebrated, Mourinho took Gudjohnsen off, bringing on a fresh Drogba to inject some energy into Chelsea’s attack. Drogba proceeded to torment the Portsmouth back line, giving them numerous problems and coming agonisingly close as the match entered its last five minutes.

With three minutes to go, Lampard looked to turn provider, feeding in Drogba. Drogba, forced wide, went for goal, but his shot struck the post and went out.

The match entered stoppage time, and it was looking increasingly likely that Chelsea were going to slip up and lose ground in the title race. As the fourth official finished showing the numbers board, Drogba once again launched a shot at goal. David James saved, but he couldn’t hold on, and Michael Ballack pounced on the rebound to finally break Portsmouth’s resistance.

The exuberant celebrations in the Matthew Harding end were only increased by the stadium announcer’s next announcement.

“Substitution for Chelsea. Leaving the field is number five, Michael Essien. Replacing him, and making his first appearance of the season, number six, Ricardo Carvalho!”

Carvalho was cheered onto the pitch, after spending nearly seven months out injured, as Mourinho looked to ensure that Ballack’s goal was the final one of the match.

It wasn’t.

As the match entered the third minute of stoppage time, a long ball to Drogba was intercepted by Primus. The Portsmouth man spent too much time on the ball, however, and Drogba robbed him before getting into the area and finally beating David James with a shot which crashed in off the crossbar.

“And there’s the final whistle!” came the voice from the radio, “What an extraordinary last three minutes here at Stamford Bridge, and Chelsea, with two late strikes, pick up another three vital points, their fifth win in a row, to keep pace with Manchester United…”

Autumn was certain that she had noticed her boss storming out of the cafe.

Chelsea 3-1 Portsmouth (Gudjohnsen 70, Ballack 90+1, Drogba 90+3, Lampard m/pen 61; Hughes 12)

“Didn’t Manchester United win the treble with two stoppage time goals?” Dinky asked, as the three of us left the ground, as news filtered through that the rest of the top four had all won.

“Well, yes,” I replied, “Although those were against Bayern Munich, not Portsmouth. Still, imagine being on the United bench and thinking that you’re about to widen the gap on us and then three minutes later you find out that we got two in stoppage time to get another win.”

Premier League Table

1 Man Utd 70pts
2 Chelsea 61pts
3 Arsenal 61pts
4 Liverpool 57pts
5 Bolton 49pts
6 Everton 47pts
…
16 Sheff Utd 31pts
17 Man City 30pts
18 Charlton 24pts
19 Watford 20pts
20 West Ham 20pts

Author's Note:

El Clasico is the name for any match between Barcelona and Real Madrid, although the term officially refers to games in La Liga. It is considered the biggest game in club football other than the Champions League Final. The one at the Nou Camp in the 2006/07 season did take place a week after the match in this chapter.

Comments

[Bronycommander]

Great Work as always!