For Dinky and Derpy Hooves, there's much more than trophies riding on the outcome of Chelsea's season.
Bill Shankly once said that football was more important than life and death. And for Dinky and Derpy Hooves, that quote becomes all too true after Dinky is taken away by Foal Protection Services and moved to - of all places - London. When Twilight Sparkle attempts to intervene, the director sets a condition that seems impossible, and in doing so intertwines the two's fates with the upcoming Premier League season.
A season of away days and European nights awaits Dinky and her new human guardian, and the stakes have been raised through the roof. Can Chelsea Football Club, up against a resurgent Manchester United and the top teams in Europe, pull off a feat only achieved once before by an English club and reunite mother and daughter?
"Some people think that football is a matter of life and death. I assure you, it's much more important than that." - Bill Shankly
Summer, 2006
"The train on Platform 1 is the 20:57 Caledonian Sleeper service to Inverness, Aberdeen and Fort William. This train is now boarding.”
"Come on Dinky, that's us," I said, getting up from my seat in the first class lounge and picking up my rucksack, the purple-grey unicorn filly trotting beside me. The two of us made our way across the concourse of London Euston station and down to the platform where the long train was waiting, its sixteen carriages filling the extended platform.
"Where's our cabin?" Dinky asked, as we walked along the platform.
"All the way at the front, I'm afraid," I answered, "We're in the Fort William portion. You see, the eight coaches we've just walked past are for Inverness, the next six are for Aberdeen, and the front two go to Fort William, with the train dividing at Edinburgh.”
We checked in with the sleeping car attendant and settled into our cabin, before making our way to the lounge car as the train began its long journey north.
It had been over a month and a half since the Equestrian filly had been given to me by the unsmiling Foal Protection Services official. It wasn't my first encounter with an Equestrian, however; a statue of their ruler, Princess Celestia, who had been a close friend of Winston Churchill, stood in Hyde Park, my Year 10 class at school had visited the embassy, my family had hosted an exchange student from there around nine years ago, and a cyan pegasus with a rainbow mane held a season ticket in the Matthew Harding Lower at Stamford Bridge, the home of my beloved Chelsea Football Club. However, I still couldn't, for the life of me, figure out how their social services had come to the conclusion that I was a suitable foster parent for her, especially when I had never even applied to be a foster parent. It certainly didn't cast them in a good light.
Eventually, she had grown used to living in my apartment, which overlooked Chelsea Harbour and the Thames. As the school year and World Cup were over (with England - as usual - going out on penalties and Zinedine Zidane making the final memorable for all the wrong reasons) I was taking her on holiday to clear her mind. Scotland had been chosen long in advance and, as an added bonus, Chelsea would be finishing their preseason games there, against Motherwell and Galatasaray, and I had decided to take her to both games to show her what it was like before the season started; I had, after all, shelled out the money to buy her a season ticket to go with my own, even managing to stay in the Matthew Harding Lower whilst I was at it.
The biggest shock to Dinky had been the shift in culture, but fortunately, the Equestrian Embassy in London had been able to provide what the embassy official had termed “the essentials”. Equestrian schools taught their pupils that humans ate meat in the first lessons of Primary (a major international incident had erupted between Equestria and France about a week after first contact in 1926 over certain aspects of French cuisine) but nothing had prepared her for when I'd told her about haggis. She enjoyed the Macaroni Cheese enough, though.
“Anyway, we're in the Fort William portion because of these,” I said, producing two tickets for the Jacobite steam train. “We aren't going to Scotland just to watch football. We might as well see the scenery it has to offer as well, and it has some spectacular scenery.”
"How are you coping, Ms Hooves?"
Derpy looked up from her cup of tea at the smiling, sympathetic face of Lyra Heartstrings. She'd made a vow to herself that she would become a better mother and be reunited with Dinky, but she still didn't know what she'd done wrong.
"Okay, I suppose," she replied, "I mean, it's painful, but Dinky wouldn't want me to be consumed by depression."
"Glad to hear it." said Lyra. Then, she looked around, as if searching for eavesdroppers, and continued, "To tell you the truth, almost all of Equestria is behind you. Many of my colleagues can’t stand Belladonna, and the only reason that there haven’t been mass resignations is that she’d fill the posts with yes-ponies. I hear Twilight is going to her tomorrow with a plea on your behalf; she considers it watertight. I'll keep you posted. She's agreed to provide a reference for you for visitation."
Derpy looked at the latest postcard that Dinky had sent her; a picture of a steam train crossing a tall viaduct. Everything in the picture looked spectacular, the scenery, the viaduct, and the locomotive, a Peppercorn K1 built in Glasgow in 1949. She flipped it over, and reread the account of the journey over West Highland Line and the trip by steam train to Mallaig.
"Substitution being made by Chelsea; coming off is number six, Ricardo Carvalho, replacing him is number nine, Khalid Boulahrouz."
The words of the Hampden Park stadium announcer cut through the night air as the Chelsea defender limped off. With 25 minutes remaining, the score stood at one goal apiece and four yellow cards for Galatasaray to Chelsea's three. Unlike the 3-0 win over Motherwell, this was becoming a very bad tempered game. And then Ricardo Carvalho had gone down badly after a bad challenge. Afterwards, the match petered out into a 1-1 draw, neither side willing to risk further injuries, but the outlook seemed bleak as we left the stadium; many fans around us were talking about ligament damage and lengthy layoffs.
"And in conclusion, Belladonna, your decision to separate Ms Hooves from her daughter is unethical and unlawful. As such, I can safely that you have little choice but to retract the aforementioned decision. And if you don't want to do it, I'm confident that one of the princesses will do it for you."
A smattering of impromptu applause broke out a couple of ponies behind Twilight Sparkle as she reshuffled her notes, and she realised that Lyra had been right when she'd said nopony liked Belladonna. For her part, Belladonna sneered; she knew that while she could refuse, Twilight would then go to one of the princesses, who would likely reverse her decision. And she couldn't count Blueblood out either; her decision to relocate Dinky to London had caused him a lot of headaches in his first few months as ambassador to the United Kingdom. She looked around, trying to think up an excuse...and noticed a newspaper cast to one side. It was open at the sport section, and the headline read, “CARVALHO OUT FOR MONTHS; Chelsea defender in injury agony after sustaining ligament damage"
In a flash, it came to her.
"Very well." She said, almost smirking in triumph, "I will reverse the decision, but only if Chelsea Football Club win the treble; the treble that Manchester United won in 1999."
When Rarity answered the knock at her front door, she was surprised to find Prince Blueblood on her doorstep. Although she and the prince had got off on the wrong hoof in the most spectacular way, relations between the two had become more amicable since.
“Good morning, your highness,” she said. “And to what do I owe the pleasure?”
“I'm here to discuss the favour that I still owe you for the gala, which my Aunt Celestia was only too quick to remind me of yesterday.” Blueblood replied. “Given that being a foreign dignitary has its advantages, I could get you a spa treatment at The Ritz or a ticket to London Fashion Week…”
“Or tickets to the Merseyside Derby!” interjected Rarity's sister Sweetie Belle, a keen Everton supporter.
“Actually,” Rarity said, “There's something more important. You've seen the news, I take it?” She levitated the morning's copy of the Ponyville Times, on which was the headline “TREBLE OR NOTHING”, to the front door.
“Yes. Nasty business, that,” Blueblood remarked. “Had to be handled very carefully, and nearly caused an international incident on my watch. Always had that Belladonna pegged as a nasty piece of work…”
“Yes, yes,” Rarity said, trying to avoid sounding impatient, “But the thing is, my sister is in the same class at school as the filly in question, and I want to know if you can reverse this despicable injustice.”
“That's... easier said than done,” Blueblood replied. “Whilst I am pretty sure that Belladonna broke just about every rule imaginable, I do not have the authority to overturn her ruling. At any rate, the liaison officer I appointed at the embassy has told me that Miss Hooves’ new guardian has bought her a Chelsea season ticket, so she'd still have to return to London for every Premiership match at Stamford Bridge this season. I will do what I can, but just in case, I will get in touch with the organisers of London Fashion Week and…” he glanced at Sweetie Belle.
“Everton” Sweetie Belle prompted.
“Everton Football Club to fulfil my other offers. Good day to you both.”
When he got back to Canterlot, however, he made a detour before going back to the British Embassy, where a portal would take him to the corresponding embassy in London. He stopped at a coffee shop, entered an adjacent door, and walked up a flight of stairs to the first floor, where he entered an office. Behind a desk sat a blue unicorn stallion with an untidy black mane, which had a tuft at the back, and who was wearing a red bow tie and a black pair of glasses.
“One Truth,” Blueblood said. “I need you to get as much incriminating evidence against Belladonna Nightshade as you can.”
Tuesday 14th August
“OK, I'll tell her.” I said, and put the telephone down.
“That was the embassy on the phone,” I said, as I sat back down on the sofa in front of the television, which was showing Premiership Years in the run-up to the start of the season. “I don't want to get your hopes up too much, but there's a chance that you might be going back home. Have you ever heard of the Treble?”
“League title, domestic cup and Champion's League,” Dinky replied. “One of my classmates supports Man Utd.”
“Well, if Chelsea win it this season-”
“But how likely is that?”
“Well, we've dominated the league in the past two seasons. We have a very good chance of winning the FA Cup, and on our day we can beat anyone in Europe; we knocked out Barcelona and Bayern Munich two seasons ago, and the Italian contingent is weakened this year because Juventus have been kicked out for match-fixing. The season starts on Saturday, so there isn't long to wait.”
“The only place to be every other Saturday, is strolling down the Fulham Road…” - Blue Day, Suggs & Co, 1997
The morning sun shone over London, illuminating the apartment block which overlooked the River Thames. It was Saturday 19th August, and the first day of the Premier League season. The sound of my bedroom door being eased open alerted me to Dinky entering my room for a hug, which she'd made a regular feature of weekend mornings.
Chelsea were at home for their first game, against London rivals West Ham, so there was no need to hurry (although on the other end of the scale, the travelling Bolton and Reading fans were probably already up and on their way, being away to Portsmouth and Wigan Athletic respectively). Eventually, I made my way to the kitchen and switched on the kettle, before turning the TV on to Sky Sports.
“Good morning. The season starts today and the main question on everybody's lips has to be ‘Can anyone stop Chelsea?’ Well, Mourinho has set out his goals for the season, and...” Tim Lovejoy said, as he and Andy Gray sat at a desk.
I began to microwave some pancakes as Dinky walked in, yawning loudly. Whilst we talked, and the kettle boiled, Richard Keys and Andy Gray talked about the match between Wigan and Reading, and which promoted side had the best chance of staying up. The two of us ate our breakfast as the program then showed brief snippets of interviews with the managers, including José Mourinho and Sir Alex Ferguson.
Rainbow Dash leaped out of bed. Today was the day. Today, Chelsea began their defence of the league title that they'd won two seasons running and would, of course, retain, because they were awesome.
For various ponies, the expectations were different. Diamond Tiara (Man Utd) and Silver Spoon (Arsenal) were hoping to see their sides win the league. Both of them felt sorry for Dinky, but you couldn't let such a situation influence the league season. Meanwhile, Pinkie Pie (Newcastle), Sweetie Belle (Everton) and Apple Bloom (Bolton) were hoping to see their sides finish in the European spots. Scootaloo and her parents (Man City) and her Aunt Holiday (Aston Villa) were hoping to see their sides blow more hot than cold, while Holiday's wife Lofty (Watford) knew that a long and difficult season awaited, with her side being among the favourites for relegation.
Two o’clock arrived and the two of us, filly and human, left our flat and made our way down to the street. A large poster next to the railway line proclaimed “A NEW STATION AT IMPERIAL WHARF: CONSTRUCTION TO BEGIN 2007. A JOINT VENTURE BETWEEN NETWORK RAIL, SOUTHERN RAIL AND LOROL”
“As if they’ll complete that on time,” I replied. “They were due to start construction this year, but the one up the line at Shepherd’s Bush is still being built.”
A Silverlink Metro service rattled past, on its way towards Willesden Junction, as a voice behind us shouted “Hey, Dinks!”
Dinky and I turned around to see the rainbow-maned cyan pegasus who had sat about 7 rows in front of me in prior seasons. She’d obviously emerged from the nearby portal, which had been located at Chelsea Harbour since the agreement between Equestria and the Football Association to establish portals for ponies to attend matches. Despite an official request from the Equestria Gooners, the portal for Arsenal hadn’t been moved when Arsenal had left Highbury at the end of the previous season.
“Rainbow Dash! I forgot that you went to these matches!” Dinky replied, bounding over to the pegasus whose name I quickly registered. “How’s mommy?” she continued.
“She’s doing...well enough, all things considered,” Rainbow Dash replied, before turning to me. “So, how do you think we’ll do against this lot?” she asked.
“West Ham? Well, that fact that they got rid of Pardew after getting to the Cup Final last season speaks volumes. Wouldn’t surprise me if they go down this season.” I responded, "And let's not forget that we put four past them with ten men here last season."
The three of us walked (or in Rainbow Dash’s case, flew) along Lots Road, turning left onto the King’s Road before reaching the Fulham Road. As we got closer to the ground, more and more supporters appeared, including several ponies who had obviously arrived earlier. The three of us each bought a copy of the cfcuk, the Chelsea fanzine (“Only a pound! Hurry up!”) and a match programme. When we got into the ground, a surprise awaited us.
“Let's see. Row D, seats 107 and 108…” I muttered, checking our season tickets.
“Wait. Did you say ‘Row D, Seats 107 and 108?” Rainbow Dash interjected. “My seat’s Row D, Seat 106! We’ll be together this season!”
“Well...I suppose it wouldn’t hurt for Dinky to be close to someone from her home,” I responded.
The three of us chatted as we read the programmes and fanzines while the players warmed up, although Dinky was taken aback by the fact that the fanzine wrote everything related to Tottenham as if it were a profanity and added a trademark symbol after the phrase “famous Anfield atmosphere”.
The teams were then read out, with the announcer reading out the names of the home side much more enthusiastically than the visitors. Two new names were read out; veteran striker Armando Fontana, who had signed from Real Madrid for £16 million after the Spanish side had beaten Chelsea in the race to sign Milan's Andriy Shevchenko, and Robert Kovac, signed on a season-long loan from Juventus following the disgraced Italian club’s relegation as a stop-gap due to Carvalho’s long-term injury. John Terry and Frank Lampard’s names received the loudest cheers, although the latter received a large volume of boos from the visiting support.
The match kicked off and Chelsea looked to assert themselves almost immediately, with Fontana having a couple of half-chances early on. West Ham were on the back foot, although Dean Ashton fired wide in the eighth minute. Chelsea then went on the attack, and in the thirteenth minute Drogba sent a volley wide from Arjen Robben’s cross. Drogba went close again in the 21st minute, hitting the side netting.
The match went quiet for a bit afterwards, before Chelsea won a corner in the final ten minutes of the half. The captain, John Terry, went up for it and got up to head at goal, with his header going wide.
It seemed as if a goal was inevitable, but not the way everyone was expecting. A rare West Ham attack saw a defensive mix-up in the Chelsea box, with Yossi Benayoun sending a low shot beyond the outstretched hand of Cudicini to give West Ham a shock lead three minutes from half time.
Chelsea looked to hit back almost instantly, and in the last minute of the half, Drogba saw a shot tipped over the bar by Robert Green. This time, Chelsea looked to play the corner short, and Wright-Phillips found Kovac. Kovac passed the ball into the area for Drogba, who trapped the ball with his right foot before using his left to hit a powerful shot into the net which gave Green no chance.
The second half started with Chelsea firmly in the ascendancy, and it came as no surprise when in the 51st minute, some good attacking play saw Drogba hit a low shot beyond Green into the bottom corner of the net, similar to the goal Benayoun had scored in the first half.
West Ham looked to respond, and in the 55th minute Dean Ashton hit a shot at Cudicini. But then came the killer blow. A quick counter-attack by Chelsea four minutes later saw Frank Lampard beat two West Ham defenders before unleashing a blockbuster into the net from 20 yards out.
After that, the fight practically went out of the visitors, and it took a late save from Green to prevent Salomon Kalou from increasing the score. As it was, the final whistle ensured that Chelsea started the season as expected.
Chelsea 3-1 West Ham United (Drogba 45+2, 51, Lampard 59; Benayoun 42)
The three of us made our way back to Chelsea harbour, whilst news from elsewhere filtered through. Reading had won 3-0 at Wigan Athletic, while Man Utd had thrown down the gauntlet, winning at Middlesbrough by the same scoreline. Elsewhere, Portsmouth had beaten Bolton 1-0.
“Ready for your first away match?” I asked, as the two of us made our way to the apartment’s lift.
“How are we getting there?” Dinky asked. “I know the way to Stamford Bridge, but where is Reading?”
Not far away, which is probably for the best with this being a weeknight and all,” I replied. “We’re walking to Fulham Broadway Station, taking the tube to Paddington, then a train to Reading. I just hope that the evening rush hour doesn’t affect our plans too much.”
The two of us emerged from the Underground into the busy concourse of Paddington station. Dinky looked around in amazement at the number of trains, while I scanned the departure boards.
“Let’s see, Reading, Reading…” I thought. I didn’t want to wait too long, but there was no need to rush.
“Platform 4 for the 17:15 First Great Western service to Carmarthen. Calling at Reading, Didcot Parkway, Swindon…”
“Bingo. Let’s go, Dinky. We’ll have little trouble getting a seat on that one.”
The two of us boarded the train and settled in. Several other supporters subsequently joined us, intending to get there early and enjoy a drink before the match.
“You know, not every away match will be this convenient,” I said, as the train pulled out of the station, “But for the trickier ones, such as Blackburn or Aston Villa, and the long distance ones like Newcastle, the club will provide a charter train.”
In no time at all, the train had reached Reading station and the two of us disembarked. As the Madejski Stadium was a significant distance from the station, a shuttle bus operated on match days and so we made use of it.
Rainbow Dash couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed. Scootaloo’s aunts were out celebrating their anniversary, so she was foalsitting this evening rather than watching the game at the Traveller’s Rest Inn. Still, she’d be able to watch the game on their television with Scootaloo.
The two of them had finished supper later than anticipated, but the match had only been going for twenty minutes. Should be 1-0 up at least, Rainbow Dash thought, as she turned on the TV, switched over to the sports channel, and did a double-take.
“Essien now, coming over the halfway line. Chelsea still trying to get back on level terms.”
Scootaloo blinked as she heard Kick Off’s voice from the living room, and hurried there to investigate. Surely there must be some mistake. As if Chelsea would be losing…
“Just to remind you of the surprise scoreline,” Kick Off continued, “It’s Reading one, Chelsea nil. Leroy Lita’s ninth-minute goal remains the difference, as…”
“You’re losing to flipping Reading?” Scootaloo asked incredulously.
Chelsea were indeed losing to Reading, who were looking to capitalise on their opening day win, and Lita went close again as the Royals looked to double their advantage. The three-pronged attack of Kalou-Drogba-Fontana was not reaping the dividends that Mourinho had hoped, with the three of them only managing two shots on target between them as the clock ticked round to the 29th minute.
However, as Chelsea came forward again, Frank Lampard was bundled to the ground by Reading’s Graeme Murty, who received a yellow card for his troubles. Lampard opted to play the free kick short to Drogba, whose daisy-cutting shot was kept out by Hahnemann’s outstretched leg.
From the corner, Lampard played the ball short to Wayne Bridge, who sent a cross into the area. Saloman Kalou held off two Reading players to prod the ball home and level the scores.
As the away section celebrated, I heard several people say, “We’ll bury them now,” or words to that effect. While I didn’t doubt that Chelsea would push on and come away with the points, it wouldn’t be as easy as many were claiming.
Indeed, Reading were giving as good as they got, and just before half time, a shot by Kitson was pushed away by Cudicini. From the corner, Ibrahima Sonko rose highest to head the ball past Cudicini to restore Reading’s lead.
Rainbow Dash huffed as she went into the kitchen to get herself a cider and a soda for Scootaloo. This was the sort of game that Chelsea should be winning easily. How the hay would they win the title if they lost to a side which were in the Championship last season? And to top it all off, Liverpool and Manchester United were both winning.
The second half started with Chelsea showing a lot more urgency, but it was clear that Reading, having reclaimed the lead, fully intended to keep it. Indeed, even as the Blues dominated the second half, Reading held firm, with the first real chance of the second half being a Saloman Kalou effort in the 61st minute which rolled agonisingly wide of the post.
However, Chelsea continued to push forward. With twenty minutes left, Lampard received the ball from Makelele and went on a surging run, beating Ibrahima Sonko and Graeme Murty before hitting a powerful shot beyond Hahnemann’s outstretched hand to level the scores up once more. As the away end celebrated once again, the fans fully expected that now, Chelsea would push on and win.
But that was as far as it went. Reading manned the proverbial barricades and held on for a point, with Drogba missing a superb chance late on.
It wasn’t that fixture that the following morning’s Premier League round-up focused on the most, however, but the 0-0 draw between Manchester City and Portsmouth, for one reason: Ben Thatcher. Early in the second half, the Manchester City left-back intentionally took Portsmouth’s Pedro Mendes out with the full force of his elbow, amazingly only receiving a yellow card for the X-rated challenge which knocked Mendes out cold. Of course, Thatcher would receive lengthy suspensions from both his own club and the Football Association, who added a suspended fifteen match ban on top of the eight they banned him for.
Rainbow Dash’s exclamation summed things up quite nicely in my view. Dinky facehoofed, I cast my eyes up to the August sky, and numerous supporters around us voiced their opinions in far juicier language as Jason Roberts wheeled away in celebration.
It was certainly a far cry from the mood before the match.
It had seemed easy enough on paper, too. A home fixture against a Blackburn Rovers side who had lost both their opening matches; surely an easy three points. Indeed, Chelsea had dominated the match from the outset, and it came as no surprise when Fontana opened his Chelsea account with an exquisite chip over Brad Friedel midway through the first half. Despite 45 minutes of Chelsea dominance, the scoreline still only read 1-0 when the half time whistle blew.
Barely a minute after half time, however, a long ball from defence was met by Blackburn striker Benni McCarthy, who controlled it before wrong-footing Petr Cech to level the scores. Since then, Chelsea had virtually laid siege to the Blackburn goal, but had failed to convert their numerous chances. The score remained 1-1 as the clock ticked on, and an air of nervousness began to permeate Stamford Bridge. And then, with eleven minutes to go, it happened.
As a Chelsea attack broke down, Robbie Savage took possession and went on a run, before passing to McCarthy. McCarthy bore down on goal, but as Cech came out to meet him, he passed the ball to Roberts to catch Cech in no-man’s land. Blackburn now held a shock 2-1 lead as the last ten minutes approached.
“Well, once again, Chelsea are having problems with teams they should be comfortably beating,” Kick Off proclaimed. “They should have had this game put to bed by now, and instead it looks like they’re going to end up with nothing.”
“Indeed, Kick Off,” replied his co-commentator Full Time. “In my view, they’re going to be lucky to get a point if they don’t do something. They really should be playing a lot better.”
Down in the dugout, Mourinho motioned to three players to come on. Kovac, Fontana and Kalou made way, with Drogba, Robben and Wight-Phillips replacing them.
“An all-or-nothing substitution now for Chelsea,” Kick Off said. “Ten minutes for them to get out of the hole that they’ve dug themselves into.”
Chelsea pushed forward as the clock ticked on. With the crowd urging them on, Drogba had a shot blocked by Lucas Neill. The corner was cleared as far as Bridge, who sent the ball skimming over the bar, leaving the home supporters groaning in dismay.
As the match entered the last five minutes, Chelsea continued to press. Michael Ballack, making his Chelsea debut, played the ball across to Drogba in the centre. The Blackburn defence anticipated a shot, but Drogba opted to play Robben into the area, and the talented winger received the ball before sending it past Friedel into the far corner to bring Chelsea level with just two minutes to go.
As Chelsea celebrated, so did two mares watching the game in the Traveller’s Rest Inn in Ponyville. Derpy breathed a sigh of relief, while Twilight tried to decide whether, in Mourinho’s situation, she’d settle for a point or go for the win.
The answer to her question came as the match entered stoppage time. As Chelsea looked to attack once more, Robben broke away down the left side. As Rainbow Dash, Dinky and much of the Matthew Harding End urged him to cut inside, the Dutchman opted for a different course of action. He pulled the ball back for Claude Makelele, who let fly first time from 25 yards and sent the ball into the top corner beyond the despairing dive of Friedel to send the home crowd into raptures.
They weren’t the only ones, either. In Ponyville, Derpy reacted by managing to stretch the word “Goal” out over ten seconds, while Kick Off described the goal as “a thing of absolute beauty", adding that it was "destined for the net from the moment it left Makelele's boot. Friedel had no chance!”. Full Time was equally excited, telling Makelele “Take a bow son, what a hit!”
Amazingly, in the space of three minutes, Chelsea had snatched victory from the jaws of defeat.
Chelsea 3-2 Blackburn Rovers (Fontana 23, Robben 88, Makelele 90+1; McCarthy 46, Roberts 79)
“I’d treasure that memory if I were you,” I said as we left the stadium, Dinky practically bouncing along beside me. “It isn’t often that you see Claude Makelele score.”
As we made our way back home, the main news was that Aston Villa’s 4-2 win over Reading had moved them top of the league on goal difference above Manchester United.
The Blackburn result, however, just made the next game all the more incomprehensible. Charlton Athletic had taken just one point from their opening three matches, including a 4-1 defeat at Liverpool, so it surely stood to reason that the match at The Valley would be fairly straightforward.
But then again, we'd thought the same about Blackburn and Reading.
In the end, it was Charlton who were celebrating by the end of the evening. Chelsea had put in a thoroughly insipid performance and had received their just desserts in the 60th minute when Darren Bent had met a cross from Dennis Rommedahl and headed the ball past Cech.
Charlton Athletic 1-0 Chelsea (Bent 60)
As we made our way back home, ominous news filtered through from Old Trafford. Manchester United had beaten Aston Villa 2-0 to sit top of the league on maximum points from their opening four matches. Arsenal had got their first win of the season as well, beating West Ham by the same scoreline.
Premier League table at the end of August:
1 Man Utd 12pts 2 Liverpool 10pts 3 Aston Villa 9pts 4 Portsmouth 8pts 5 Newcastle Utd 8pts 6 Chelsea 7pts 7 Reading 7pts … 16 Tottenham 3pts 17 Charlton 3pts 18 Watford 2pts 19 Sheffield United 1pt 20 Blackburn Rovers 1pt
It was a dejected mood that lay around Stamford Bridge as the final whistle went. And for good reason, another poor display had consigned Chelsea to a second successive loss and Mourinho to his first home defeat in the league as Chelsea manager.
Things had started badly and proceeded to get worse. Mikel Arteta had slipped through the Chelsea back four and put Everton ahead after just eight minutes, and it was only Petr Cech who prevented the visitors from increasing their lead before half time.
Chelsea did create chances in the second half, and Tim Howard had to be alert to keep out shots from Drogba and Lampard. But then, in the last ten minutes, came the killer blow.
As Chelsea won a corner, the referee blew for an Everton free kick. Fontana had used his elbow whilst jumping with Everton defender Joseph Yobo, and was shown a red card. Then, with six minutes to go, Andy Johnson scored to put the game to bed.
Sunday 3rd September
The telephone rang as the game between Liverpool and Manchester United got underway.
“Hello.”
“Are you Mr George Spencer?"
“Speaking,” I replied, noting that the voice on the other end had spoken rather quickly.
“Is this where my muffin now lives?” It took me a couple of seconds for ‘my muffin’ to register.
“Yes, it is. And you must be Ms Derpy Hooves? I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of meeting you,” I said.
“May I speak to her?”
I felt a pang of guilt at this. It was now three months since Foal Protection Services (who held a clear lead in the title race for “most irresponsible government organisation”) had left Dinky with me, and it had never occurred to me that it might have been a good idea to try and exchange contact details other than just addresses through the embassy.
“It's for you, Dinky,” I called. Dinky jumped down from the sofa and walked over.
I sighed as the two of them had an emotional conversation, and thought of the coming school year. As Dinky was too young to qualify as an exchange student (Year 10 or higher), a pony from the embassy had arrived two weeks ago to discuss the options, or rather, option. She'd hoped that Princess Celestia would be able to have a few words with the Football Association and enable her to use the nearby portal to attend her Primary School in Ponyville. Unfortunately, the FA hadn't budged (although from what I'd heard of Belladonna, it wouldn't have surprised me if she'd had a few words with them first), meaning that Dinky would have to continue to attend classes set up at the embassy for the children of embassy staff. At any rate, I suspected that had Ponyville been an option, Dinky would have likely been escorted to and from the portal by a chaperone who would probably have had all the empathy of a ticket machine facing a hurrying commuter and the emotional capacity of the vidiprinter.
“So what did she want to speak to you about?” I asked as Dinky returned to the sofa.
“She really wanted to talk to me again, and she also wanted me to pass on her thanks for taking care of me.”
I thought back to the poem that had been sent to Dinky shortly after her arrival, and I pulled her into a hug.
“Well, as bad as things might seem right now, and I can’t believe that I’m quoting Liverpool fans here, ‘at the end of the storm, there’s a golden sky’. So who knows? We might not have started the season as expected, but there’s still a long way to go and...oh, what are they doing!”
While the two of us had been talking, Manchester United had gone on the attack and won a corner. Wayne Rooney had met with Ronaldo’s cross and volleyed goalwards, but Liverpool keeper Pepe Reina had parried the shot. John O’Shea, however, had followed up and scored on the rebound, giving United the lead. United went on to win 2-0.
Thursday 7th September
"Champions League tickets arrived today," I said, as Dinky got out of the embassy car.
Chelsea had been drawn in a group with Bayern Munich, Benfica and Celtic, which I believed could be navigated without much difficulty. As I'd told Dinky when the draw had been made two weeks previously, we could have ended up with Real Madrid, Barcelona or Milan.
It was a concerned Rainbow Dash who arrived at the Traveller’s Rest Inn to watch the game. Portsmouth had made a good start to the season and sat 6th in the table, while Chelsea’s two defeats had seen them slip, briefly, into the bottom half. Big Match Live was just beginning as she paid for her cider and sat down next to Derpy at a nearby table.
“Welcome to Fratton Park for our live game this evening.” Big Match said. “The Blues might not have made the best start to their season, but history is on their side tonight. They have not lost to Portsmouth since 1960, and…”
“...and the referee has awarded Portsmouth a penalty!” exclaimed Kick Off.
It might well be grim up north, I thought, but things weren’t much better in the south either. This was Chelsea’s final game before the start of their Champions League campaign, and three points were imperative.
However, once again, things had gone wrong early. In the 12th minute, a good ball from Portsmouth midfielder Pedro Mendes (who had recovered from his encounter with Ben Thatcher) found fellow midfielder Niko Kranjcar, who beat Kovac before firing a shot past Cech.
Chelsea had huffed and puffed in abysmal weather, to the point that the floodlights had been on since the beginning, but had nothing to show for it. As if that wasn’t enough, the constant sound of a handbell from the stand at the other end of the ground seemed to echo throughout my brain. Not everyone in the home crowd was enjoying it either, as a yellow earth pony with a purple mane and a Tudor rose on her flank kept giving its owner very dirty looks.
And now, to top it all off, Portsmouth had a penalty with twenty minutes remaining. Nwankwo Kanu, their striker who had once scored a 15-minute hat trick for Arsenal at Stamford Bridge, placed the ball on the spot and waited for the whistle. Dinky shut her eyes and looked away, whilst in Ponyville, Derpy covered her eyes with her wings.
Neither of them saw Petr Cech dive low to his right to keep the ball out.
Chelsea, invigorated by having gotten out of jail, then went on the attack. A long ball from Boulahrouz found Shaun Wright-Phillips, and the winger unleashed a fierce shot which was tipped over by veteran Portsmouth keeper David James.
Chelsea continued to press for an equaliser, and with five minutes left Arjen Robben was sent away down the left. Robben crossed the ball into the area, where Didier Drogba volleyed the ball into the roof of the net to rescue a point.
Portsmouth 1-1 Chelsea (Kranjcar 12, Kanu m/pen 71; Drogba 85)
Despite rescuing a point, the table still made for grim reading; Chelsea were 9th in the table, whilst Man Utd were still on maximum points and held a five-point lead at the top, and a ten-point lead over Chelsea, at this early stage of the season.
“I think you’re going to enjoy this,” I told Dinky as we prepared to head for the match. “There is nothing quite like a European Night at Stamford Bridge. I’d say the best one I attended was two seasons back against Barcelona; we won 4-2 and the place was rocking from start to finish.”
“How likely is it that we’ll play Barcelona?” Dinky asked.
“It depends; once we reach the knockout stage, it’s all down to the luck of the draw,” I replied. “But if you want to win this competition, you have to be able to beat the best teams in Europe.”
“Good Evening, and welcome to Big Match Live: Champions League,” Big Match said. “We’re at Stamford Bridge tonight, where Chelsea host Celtic, while on Sport 2 you can see coverage of any one of the seven other matches tonight. But first, a recap of last night’s matches, starting with the goals from the Nou Camp where Barcelona beat Levski Sofia 5-0.”
“Twilight! Derpy! Fancy seeing you two here!”
Twilight Sparkle looked across to see Lyra Heartstrings sit down next to her at the bar, wearing a green and white scarf.
“I could say the same about you,” Twilight replied. “Here for-”
“Yes, I’m here to watch us get stuffed,” Lyra said. “Let’s face it. Chelsea, Bayern and Benfica? We’ve got no chance. Might as well enjoy the ride and hope that maybe we get the UEFA Cup spot.”
“The UEFA Champions League is back, and tonight we’re in London for what many are calling the Battle of Britain,” Kick Off announced. “Chelsea versus Celtic, the Blues looking to get their campaign off to a good start despite poor form in the league. But Celtic too are underperforming domestically, and Jacques Santini will be welcoming the chance to spring a surprise or two in Europe. Chelsea will also be hoping to finally get their name on the trophy, with Jose Mourinho looking to win it for a second time…”
“Drink it in,” I said to an amazed Dinky as the teams lined up for the Champions League anthem.
The match then started, with Chelsea looking to assert themselves early on. Nobody, however, could have predicted how the match would begin...or at least, not the manner in which it began.
Four minutes into the game, Chelsea attacked down the right. Michael Essien drifted out wide and took the ball down the wing before preparing to send a cross into the area. However, he didn’t strike the ball cleanly, and it looped over the outstretched arm of Celtic keeper Artur Boruc, struck the inside of the post, and settled in the net.
Stamford Bridge went absolutely wild as Michael Essien ran over to the corner flag, doing a forward roll before kneeling on one knee with his arms outstretched in front of the West Stand.
“Absolutely incredible!” Kick Off exclaimed. “I am absolutely lost for words at that! Four minutes into the first match, and we already have a contender for goal of the tournament! Echoes of Ronaldinho against England in 2002! They’ll be debating whether or not he meant that for years!”
Celtic then went on the attack, and it took a smart save from Cech to keep out a shot from Zurawski.
But it was all Chelsea. Drogba and Ballack both fired wide, before Drogba sent a shot just over the bar. It seemed a second Chelsea goal was a case of when, not if, and sure enough, in the 26th minute…
“Ballack now on the left,” Kick Off said. “He looks to find Essien, who’s cut inside now. Essien goes for goal...off the bar! But it’s Essien, first to the rebound, heads goalwards...saved by Boruc! But the Celtic keeper hasn’t held it, and this time Essien does finish! Dear oh dear, Boruc should have done a lot better with that one, but it’s two-nil to Chelsea now, and you can’t say it’s undeserved!”
Chelsea continued to dominate the match, with Celtic not getting a sniff. In the 30th minute, Drogba was brought down by Steven Pressley, who received a yellow card. Lampard, however, didn’t strike the free kick cleanly, and sent the ball over. Then, as the first half came to a close, a scissor kick volley from Drogba struck the crossbar, before Lampard hit the post.
“So how many d’you reckon we’ll finish with?” Rainbow Dash asked at half time.
“I’m going to say four,” I replied. “Get another two early in the second half, and then take it easy.”
“Five!” Dinky replied confidently, before taking another bite out of her half time muffin.
However, compared to the onslaught that had been the first half, the second half was almost a damp squib, the first incident of note coming in the 53rd minute when Michael Ballack hit the side netting.
In the 68th minute, Chelsea launched an attack down the right. Drogba drifted out wide and sent a cross into the area, where Ballack volleyed the ball home to score his first Chelsea goal. Then, with six minutes to go, a long free kick by Ashley Cole found Drogba, who got past the Celtic defence before slotting the ball past Boruc.
Celtic did have one last attempt at a consolation goal. In the final minute, a free kick found Vennegoor of Hesselink, who headed the ball straight at Cech.
Chelsea 4-0 Celtic (Essien 4, 26, Ballack 68, Drogba 84)
“Well, it’s early days,” I said, as we left the ground, “But it’s always important to start strong. Especially since we have away ties against Benfica and Bayern coming up. At any rate, there's no game next weekend, due to the Euro 2008 qualifiers.”
“And confirmation, of course, that the other game in the group between Bayern and Benfica has finished three-one in favour of the German side,” Big Match said. “So, this is how the group table looks after one game…”
UEFA Champions League Group F: Matchday 1 1 Chelsea +4 3pts 2 Bayern +2 3pts 3 Benfica -2 0pts 4 Celtic -4 0pts
The following morning’s breakfast was eaten whilst Good Morning Sports Fans showed the goals from Arsenal’s 2-1 away win against Hamburg SV, as well as another news item. News broke during the meal that the FA had rejected the appeal against Fontana’s red card against Everton and given him a 2 match ban, which would begin after the next league match.
“So who’ve we got today?” Dinky asked, as she lay cuddled up to me on my bed like she’d done virtually every weekend since her arrival in London – and had used to do with Derpy prior to being relocated.
“Let me see,” I half-yawned, turning my head to where a fixture list was blue-tacked to the wall. “23rd, 23rd...Wigan at home. 3 o’clock kick off, so we can enjoy a nice, lazy Saturday morning.”
“Are they good?” Dinky asked.
“Last season? Yes. This season...not so much,” I replied. “They’re fourteenth in the league and have only won one match so far. If we play like we did against Celtic then we should win comfortably.”
The tranquillity was interrupted by a gurgling noise.
“Well, suppose we’d better get up,” I yawned, rising from my bed. “How does fried egg on a muffin sound for breakfast?”
A bit later, the two of us had our breakfast whilst Sky Sports previewed the day’s Premiership matches.
“So, does Fontana miss this game?” Dinky asked.
“No, he’s available for this one,” I replied, “But then he’s suspended for the games against Tottenham and Man Utd. The question is whether Mourinho plays one up front or puts Doyle on the bench.”
Danny Doyle was a 16-year-old youth player who was impressing in the reserves, and had played in the friendly against Motherwell back in July. There were rumours that Sunderland and Aston Villa were both interested in signing him on loan.
“What do you think he’ll do?” Dinky asked.
“If the last two seasons are anything to go by, one up front with wingers either side.” I answered.
“Let me tell you, I’m glad the international break’s over,” I said, as the two of us headed down King’s Road along with Rainbow Dash.
“Tell me about it!” Rainbow Dash replied, “I mean, it only gets good when the actual tournament starts. Meanwhile, we have to wait longer to get back to the proper stuff!”
Although 3 o’clock matches weren’t shown live in Equestria, the BBC showed their Final Score show on BBC Equestria every Saturday afternoon. As such, Derpy and Twilight were in the Traveller’s Rest as Simon Brotherton announced the latest news from Stamford Bridge.
“Well, this is interesting,” I said, as the big screen showed the lineup. “Terry and Lampard both being rested for Benfica on Tuesday.”
Of course, the amount of talent in Chelsea’s starting eleven should still have been enough to see off Wigan, and indeed the Blues started brightly, creating a couple of chances early on. It was in the eleventh minute that the game really got going, as Arjen Robben took the ball down the left before crossing into the area, where Drogba volleyed it past Chris Kirkland at the near post to give Chelsea the lead.
Chelsea continued to dominate, and Fontana, eager to get goals under his belt before his suspension, went close in the 29th minute, missing a shot wide of the post. Drogba, looking to double Chelsea’s lead, sent a shot harmlessly over in the 32nd minute after going for the spectacular, before Fontana was flagged offside after going for the rebound from a Chris Kirkland save. And then, in the first minute of stoppage time, the next goal came.
“And we can bring you news of a second goal at Stamford Bridge! Which way has it gone?” Ray Stubbs asked, hoping to create some suspense for the viewers of Final Score.
“It’s another goal for Chelsea,” Simon Brotherton replied, “Ashley Cole got forward and passed to Fontana, who looked to cut inside into the box before trying his luck, Chris Kirkland was able to save it, but then Drogba got to the rebound and slid the ball over the line. Chelsea two, Wigan nil, just on the stroke of half time!”
“Well, this is more like it,” I said, as I passed Dinky a chocolate bar during the interval. “You should have seen us the last two seasons; there was barely a team that could match us.”
Chelsea continued to attack in the second half, looking a lot more like the side which had dominated the Premiership in the past two seasons. In the 49th minute, a shot from Michael Essien went wide when it had looked easier to score.
The fans, however, didn’t have to wait long for the third goal. Fontana received the ball from Essien and went on a superb run, beating two Wigan defenders to break free into the area before firing the ball past a third defender and Chris Kirkland to make it three.
Despite the fact that the game was now surely safe, Chelsea were in no mood for mercy, and it was only the offside flag which prevented Drogba from breaking clear in the 58th minute.
Barely ten minutes later, a long ball out of defence was received by Ballack, who flicked it into the path of Fontana. The Spaniard took one touch before sending a curving shot into the top corner from the edge of the area.
After that, Chelsea took their foot off the pedal, but Kirkland still had to be alert to keep out a shot from Drogba with eight minutes to go.
Chelsea 4-0 Wigan Athletic (Drogba 11, 45+1, Fontana 52, 66)
The win had seen Chelsea climb to sixth in the table, but the big news coming from elsewhere in the league was that Manchester United had finally dropped points, being held at Bolton. Liverpool remained second with a 2-0 win at Manchester City. However, it was in the evening kick off that the big news of the weekend broke. Arsenal came to the Madejski Stadium off the back of three consecutive wins but were undone by a superb performance from Reading, who won 2-0 to move up to fourth in the league.
As the pundits voiced their opinions on Mourinho’s selection on that evening’s Match of the Day, I thought ahead. Benfica, Tottenham and Manchester United were up next for Chelsea, three tough opponents. Even Tottenham would be harder than in recent years, having come within a whisker of Champions League qualification the previous season. Still, today’s result had made not just me, but Dinky and Rainbow Dash too, think that Chelsea were now back on track.
Under normal circumstances, I would have been in Lisbon at this point. The match was beginning in an hour and a half, and it was likely to be a difficult game against a Benfica side who had finished third in the Portuguese League and reached the quarter finals of the Champions League the previous season.
The reason why I was still in London, however, was sitting on the sofa watching the episode of The Simpsons where Principal Skinner tries to serve Krusty Burger to Superintendent Chalmers and pass them off as “steamed hams”. Still, from what she’d told me, she’d had no say in being relocated to London, and I felt that taking her to Portugal or Germany for a group game was far too much of a stretch. Glasgow, however, would be much easier, thanks to the Caledonian Sleeper.
At any rate, the two most recent games had given cause for hope. They might only have been Celtic and Wigan, but you could only beat what was put in front of you. The bad news for tonight, however, was that Makelele was missing through illness. As I tried to guess who Mourinho would pick in his place, I looked through the fridge, wondering what to serve and how to time it so it would be ready at half time.
Half past seven arrived and the two of us watched as the ITV pundits discussed the match, and the midfield of Essien-Lampard-Ballack in front of John Obi Mikel.
“It’s going to be a tough one,” I said, “But if we can get an early goal, we can control the match from there on, just like in the last two.”
Unfortunately, it became clear that it wouldn’t be that simple. Benfica matched Chelsea from the outset, and without Makelele to break up the opposition attacks, the visitors were under more pressure than usual. However, Chelsea still looked to attack, and Lampard and Drogba had shots saved by Quim in the Benfica goal.
Then, in the 27th minute, a Benfica attack saw Petit play a long ball to Nuno Gomes, who hit a shot past Cech to give Benfica the lead.
Both sides came close, and the game entered a scrappy phase. Drogba was booked for dissent in the 33rd minute, with Petit entering the book for a foul on Michael Essien in the 40th minute.
Things didn’t get better in the second half, either. The two of us had barely finished the ravioli I’d boiled during the half time break when another Benfica attack saw Rui Costa play in Katsouranis, who had no problem lofting the ball over Cech to double Benfica’s lead.
Benfica then looked to close the game out, and Chelsea’s attacks frequently came up against a solid back four, with Fontana seeing a shot saved by Quim in the 64th minute and a Drogba strike being palmed away behind the post. However, it seemed like Benfica would comfortably see the match out, until Chelsea were thrown a lifeline with fifteen minutes left.
A good pass from Ballack saw Drogba break free of the Benfica defence, and, as he was about to get into the area, the Ivorian was brought down by Benfica defender Léo. It was a clear denial of a goalscoring opportunity, and the red card came out in short order. Benfica were now down to ten men with fifteen minutes remaining.
Frank Lampard stepped up to take the free kick, but the shot struck the defensive wall and was deflected behind for a corner, which came to nothing.
Chelsea continued to ask questions of the ten men of Benfica, and with just under ten minutes remaining, Fontana broke into the box only to see Quim tip his shot around the post. With four minutes left, Ballack got into the area before going down under a challenge from Anderson. The German appealed for a penalty, but the referee waved play on. That was how the game closed out, with Benfica picking up a priceless win.
“I wouldn’t read too much into that,” I said, as the pundits discussed what the result meant. “If we pick up a good result or two against Bayern and beat them here, we’ll still go through.”
“Confirmation, then, of what the group table looks like,” Steve Rider said, “And in the next round of fixtures, Chelsea travel to the Allianz Arena to face Bayern Munich, while Celtic host Benfica.”
It wasn’t a good round of fixtures for British sides at all. Celtic lost 1-0 at home to Bayern Munich in the other group match, whilst Arsenal were held to a 0-0 draw at home to FC Porto. Manchester United and Liverpool both drew 1-1 the following day, against Inter Milan and Galatasaray respectively.
I put Dinky to bed, then headed for the study. I would normally, at this point, have played Links 2003 or Rome Total War for a bit, but tonight I had something to do. According to the paperwork that the embassy had given me back in June, Dinky’s birthday was early in October, just after the game at Old Trafford. As such, I felt that it was importance to coordinate any gift-giving so as to avoid the possibility of her being given the same gift by two different parties.
Having penned a letter which would hopefully avoid twisting the proverbial knife, I picked out an envelope, addressing it to “Ms D. Hooves, The Old Post Office, Whitetail Street, Ponyville, Equestria, PV1 2CG”, before sticking a first class stamp on it and putting it in a drawer to send the following day.
“A two-nil lead is the worst lead” - Czech football commentator Josef Csaplar
Sunday 1st October
Rumours of fatigue in the squad was not news you wanted to hear ahead of any match, but especially not with a home game against Tottenham in seven hours. I wondered how much truth there was to the report on the radio as I took the croissants out of the oven and carried them into the sitting room, where Dinky was watching the Sunday morning repeat of Match of the Day, which had just covered Middlesbrough’s 2-0 win at Charlton.
Still, Tottenham had made a pretty poor start to the season themselves, sitting eleventh in the table after seven matches, and they had faced Slavia Prague in a UEFA Cup match the previous Thursday (which was why the game was being played on a Sunday in the first place). If anything, they’d have more problems with fatigue.
In addition, Tottenham hadn’t beaten Chelsea in the league since 1990, as I explained to Dinky that afternoon as we met Rainbow Dash outside the still-uncommenced Imperial Wharf station and set off for the stadium. Makelele, however, was still missing, so Mikel would slot between Lampard and Essien with Robben and Wright-Phillips either side of Drogba. As the three of us took our seats, and the teams emerged to The Liquidator, there was a sense of optimism throughout Stamford Bridge.
It took just four minutes for that sense to be wiped out. The first real attack fell to Tottenham, and Aaron Lennon played in England team-mate Jermain Defoe, who slipped the ball past Petr Cech to give Tottenham the lead. Then, in the 23rd minute, a defensive error allowed Jermaine Jenas to run at Cech and fire the ball under his outstretched arm to put Tottenham two goals up midway through the first half.
“Well, Chelsea couldn’t have made a worse start to this one,” Kick Off said, as the Tottenham players celebrated. “Even with Fontana suspended and confidence low, they should be playing much better, but they barely look interested.”
“Indeed, Kick Off,” Full Time added, “At the moment, it looks like Tottenham are on the way to their first league win over Chelsea since 1990.”
At this point, it looked as though the match was only headed one way. But something seemed to stir inside the Chelsea players at that point. In the 29th minute, Wright-Phillips broke away down the right to send in a cross, which Drogba volleyed wide.
The home side continued to push forward, and with Tottenham struggling to find themselves on the back foot, Chelsea were able to impose themselves and spring into action. In the 33rd minute, right-back Paulo Ferreira sent a cross into the area. Drogba failed to strike the ball cleanly, but his volley struck the turf and bounced over Paul Robinson and into the Tottenham net.
“England’s first-choice goalkeeper, everyone,” I said, as the replays of the goal were shown on the big screens.
Suddenly, Tottenham were scrambling to contain Chelsea, as the Blues poured forward in numbers. Arjen Robben was the next to try his luck, hitting the ball straight at Robinson who was able to save the shot. Two more attacks broke down as Mikel and Drogba were penalised for fouls on Jenas and Ledley King respectively as the half drew to a close.
In stoppage time, a pass from Lampard found Drogba, who broke free of the Tottenham defence. Drogba’s shot was kept out by the outstretched leg of Robinson, but the ball was deflected into the path of Wright-Phillips, who had no trouble steering the ball into the empty net.
A moment later, Arjen Robben took the ball down the left and cut inside before firing the ball over the bar.
The second half began as the first half had ended. Suddenly, it was Tottenham who looked fatigued, and were in complete disarray. In the 50th minute, Chelsea came forward once more, and Drogba’s shot was blocked. However, the ball deflected into the path of Michael Essien, who sent it into the net at the near post.
“Would you look at that!” Kick Off exclaimed, “Tottenham are crumbling here! At this rate the big question won’t be which way this match goes, but how many Chelsea score!”
The home supporters, as well, seemed to know which way the game was going, breaking out in a chorus (to the tune of “That’s amore”) of “When the Spurs start to cry ‘cause they don’t qualify, blame lasagne…”
Tottenham seemed to collapse completely, and as there were still forty minutes to go, it was clear to many that a rout was the only possible result. Indeed, a pass from Drogba found Robben, who sent the ball high and wide.
Midway through the second half, another Chelsea attack saw Lampard set up Drogba, who sent the ball just wide. A minute later, Mikel was penalised for a foul on Tottenham’s Dimitar Berbatov.
Chelsea continued to press, and with just over fifteen minutes to go, Drogba got into the area and fired a shot wide. Mikel then had a go four minutes later, sending his shot wide, before Robben had one last effort with five minutes to go which also went wide. Incredibly, the scoreline ended up flattering Tottenham; they had been 2-0 ahead midway through the first half, yet could easily have conceded seven or eight.
Chelsea 3-2 Tottenham Hotspur (Drogba 33, Wright-Phillips 45+1, Essien 50; Defoe 4, Jenas 22)
“Well, a massive, and quite embarrassing, capitulation by Tottenham there,” Big Match summarised, “And it doesn’t look good for their European credentials, either. But you can’t ignore how Chelsea came back into this; do you think they’ve turned a corner?”
“It’s difficult to say,” replied Full Time. “Yes, they came back into it, but they shouldn’t have started that poorly in the first place. To me, their big test will be at Old Trafford next Sunday.”
“The amount of chances we had, we should have humiliated them,” Rainbow Dash complained, as the three of us made our way out of the stadium.
“Maybe, but we beat them, and given what the score was after 25 minutes, that’s good enough for me,” I replied.
Of course, Man Utd had gone to Wigan and won 3-0, continuing to stay unbeaten and 5 points clear at the top of the league. And it just so happened that Chelsea’s next match was at Old Trafford.
Premier League Table at the end of September/beginning of October: 1 Man Utd 22pts 2 Bolton 17pts 3 Liverpool 16pts 4 Portsmouth 16pts 5 Chelsea 14pts 6 Reading 14pts 7 Arsenal 13pts 8 Aston Villa 12pts 9 Newcastle 11pts … 16 Sheffield Utd 6pts 17 Wigan 5pts 18 West Ham 5pts 19 Watford 4pts 20 Charlton 3pts
“Good Morning, Dinky. Ready for the big one?” I asked, as I entered her room carrying a cup of tea.
“The big one?” Dinky asked, rubbing her eyes.
“Manchester United away, at Old Trafford,” I replied, setting the cup down on her bedside table. “Win this, and it’ll send a clear message to everyone that we’re still very capable of fighting for the title.”
“And if we don’t?” Dinky asked.
“Then there are still 29 games to go, and you don’t win or lose the title in October.” I replied. “At any rate, the club charter leaves Euston at 10:30, so that’s why we’re getting up earlier.”
“Doesn’t Old Trafford have its own station? I remember Diamond Tiara mentioning it…”
“Yes, but our train will go to Manchester Piccadilly. Old Trafford’s station isn’t big enough.”
Our train sped north as the two of us discussed the game, with other fans weighing their opinions in. The prevailing opinions seemed to be that it was going to be tough, a good start was essential, and it would be absolutely fantastic to be the first team to beat Utd this season, especially in their own backyard.
“Good Afternoon, and welcome to Big Match Live. And it certainly is a big match today; the heat is on here at Old Trafford, where Man Utd host Chelsea…”
“It’s certainly grim up north today,” I muttered to myself, as the two of us disembarked at Manchester Piccadilly and noticed the rain. Unfortunately, umbrellas were forbidden inside football grounds.
“It’s been a fantastic start to the Premier League season for Manchester United. Top of the table and still unbeaten, but today they face a Chelsea side who seem to be improving after that slow start…”
I set Dinky down after carrying her up the steps up to the away section, before we went to find our seats.
“...and here’s the starting lineup for Chelsea. Robert Kovac and Ashley Cole return to the starting eleven following the game against Tottenham. Claude Makelele starts in midfield with Lampard and Essien, while Drogba starts up front on his own with Robben and Wright-Phillips on the wings.”
“You know, I reckon we’re going to do it today,” Rainbow Dash said, as she sat down with Derpy and Twilight in the Traveller’s Rest, whilst the two teams emerged onto the pitch to the Fanfare from Rocky. “A Mourinho masterclass, just you watch.”
Chelsea indeed started the game well, with Robben getting into the area early on only to shoot high and wide. Man Utd, however, were top for a reason, and Ronaldo won a free kick from a foul by Drogba. He sent the ball into the area, only for it to be caught by Cech. Patrice Evra then had a go, seeing his shot go wide, as the Man Utd supporters continued to sing “We’re gonna win the league, we’re gonna win the league…”
Chelsea immediately went on the counterattack, and a pass from Michael Essien found Wright-Phillips, who played in Drogba, Drogba seeing his shot tipped over by Man Utd’s veteran keeper Edwin Van Der Sar. Shortly afterwards, Robert Kovac passed to Robben, who set up Drogba. Drogba once again had a go, but again Van Der Sar tipped the shot over.
Carrick then fouled Lampard, the midfielder going for goal from the free kick, but hitting it straight at Van Der Sar.
Shortly after the half hour, Paul Scholes looked to find Wayne Rooney. Rooney played Ronaldo in, and the winger’s shot beat Cech only to cannon back off the post.
With just under ten minutes to go until half time, Makelele intercepted a pass and passed to Drogba. Drogba played the ball into the area to Robben, and the Dutch winger sent it beyond Van Der Sar into the net to give Chelsea the lead.
In stoppage time at the end of the first half, Drogba broke free of the United defence and cut the ball back to Wright-Phillips. Wright-Phillips played in Essien, who let fly from 20 yards. Van Der Sar parried the shot, but Ferdinand didn’t clear the ball in time and lost it to Drogba, whose shot hit the side netting.
“I’ve never understood why they do this,” I said, as I passed Dinky a muffin while the teams left the pitch at half time with Glory, Glory, Man United playing over the tannoy. “We don’t play Blue is the Colour or Blue Day at half time.”
Chelsea continued to press in the second half. Wright-Phillips passed to Robben, who recovered the ball from Nemanja Vidic to pass to Drogba, who sent his shot wide.
Shortly afterwards, a United cross was cleared by the Chelsea defence. Evra beat Drogba in the air and volleyed a pass to Michael Carrick, who played the ball on to Ronaldo. Ronaldo again looked for Rooney, whose effort was high and wide.
Just after the hour mark, Chelsea attacked once again. John Terry tackled Paul Scholes and passed to Robben, who took off down the left before sending in a cross. Drogba connected, sending his volley fizzing past the post.
It was United’s turn next, Giggs receiving the ball from Ronaldo before shooting wide, and then seeing a shot saved by Cech two minutes later.
With just under 20 minutes left, Vidic was penalised for a foul on Drogba, resulting in a free kick just outside the box. Lampard stepped up and fired the free kick over the wall and into the net.
“How’s that for an early birthday present?” I asked Dinky, as the away section celebrated what should surely be the winning goal.
And indeed, it was. Chelsea closed the match out from there on, becoming the first team that season to take three points from Man Utd.
Manchester United 0-2 Chelsea (Robben 37, Lampard 71)
“Just as I sai-” Rainbow Dash said in the Traveller’s Rest, only to be tackle hugged by Derpy before being able to finish the sentence.
“Well, we said before the game that Chelsea would need to produce their best performance of the season, and they did exactly that,” Big Match said. The camera then cut to the Chelsea manager, Jose Mourinho, who was being interviewed by Kick Off.
“Do you have any comment on what was a superb performance by your side?” Kick Off asked.
“We didn't start the season well enough,” Mourinho replied, “But this result today, this win, it proves that the title race starts now.”
“And so, confirmation of the table as it stands...” Big Match continued.
1 Man Utd 22pts 2 Liverpool 19pts 3 Bolton 18pts 4 Chelsea 17pts 5 Arsenal 16pts 6 Portsmouth 16pts
Thanks to Arsenal’s 1-0 win over Portsmouth, Chelsea had climbed into the top 4 and sat just five points behind Man Utd. Suffice to say, it was a jubilant mood on the train back to London.
Monday 9th October
Sadly, the mood the following day, Dinky’s 8th birthday, was far more poignant. I’d expected the situation to be difficult, but it wasn’t until she was looking at the photo album Derpy had sent her that I was told about the entirety of the situation.
“It happened four months ago,” she said sadly. “I came home from school and found Mommy throwing me a birthday party. Of course, I was suspicious because it was four months before my birthday, but it wasn’t until I-I saw *sniff* that letter and-and-*sniff*-and…” She found that she couldn't continue, and I pulled her into a hug as she began to cry.
In Ponyville, Derpy walked through her house. Her eyes glistened as she took a look at the makeshift shrine, comprising of letters which had arrived from London and, in a couple of cases, Scotland.
"Happy Birthday, Muffin," she murmured softly, as she pinned the latest match report from Football Daily - headlined by Mourinho's post-match statement - to a noticeboard.
“I rented Shanghai Noon today,” I eventually said, as Dinky pulled back from the hug, “I was thinking we could order pizza and watch it. Would you like that?”
Dinky nodded.
“In that case, I’ll get the leaflet. We can order it, request the delivery time, and then continue our epic quest to make Accrington Stanley champions of Europe."
Chelsea’s quest to be Champions of Europe, meanwhile, would hit another snag later that week when it was revealed that Ricardo Carvalho would require a second operation on his ankle owing to the injury sustained in the brutal “friendly” at Hampden Park at the beginning of August. Mourinho was not happy, and began sniping at Galatasaray in virtually every press conference. And coupled with England’s abject performance in the Euro 2008 qualifiers, the mood was not good as Chelsea travelled up to Middlesbrough, where the woolly hat and scarf from the megastore that I’d given Dinky for her birthday made their Chelsea debuts.
Of course, the fact that Chelsea had lost 3-0 at Middlesbrough the previous season didn’t help matters either. When Emmanuel Pogatetz opened the scoring for Boro in the eleventh minute, you could have been forgiven for thinking a repeat was on the cards. And although Frank Lampard equalised three minutes before half time, Mark Viduka put the hosts back in front in the 73rd minute and secured all three points which, coupled with Arsenal’s 2-0 win at White Hart Lane, saw Chelsea drop to 5th in the table.
“Attack wins you games. Defence wins you titles.” - Sir Alex Ferguson
The defeat at Middlesbrough did not bode well for Chelsea’s next game, a Champions League group game against Bayern Munich at the Allianz Arena. Bayern led the group, having won both their opening group matches, and were a force to be reckoned with despite inconsistent form in the Bundesliga.
In addition, a defeat would hand the initiative to Benfica in the race for the knock-out stage with three matches remaining. The Portuguese side were facing Celtic in their next two games, and would be looking to take maximum points. Chelsea would face Benfica at Stamford Bridge in their final group game, which could potentially have a lot riding on it.
Still, a few more performances like the one at Old Trafford would put Chelsea in a much better standing, and there was always the chance that Celtic would do the Blues a favour.
The pre-match build up began on ITV and it became clear that Mourinho had gone on the defensive, playing Michael Essien virtually as a centre-back in a back 5. The side were obviously looking to sit back against Lukas Podolski, Roque Santa Cruz and Claudio Pizarro, soak up pressure, and catch the hosts on the break.
It was Bayern who started the brighter, as it only until the 4th minute for them to set up an attack. However, a long ball from Bastian Schweinsteiger evaded everyone and went out for a goal kick.
Mourinho’s defensive football seemed to be working, as the sheer number of players going back managed to frustrate Bayern and limit them to the long ball game. And in the 16th minute, things seemed to get even better. A ball from Ferreira found Drogba out wide, and the Ivorian took off down the flank, using his sheer strength to brush off a challenge from Phillip Lahm before sending a cross into the area, where Arjen Robben arrived to head the ball past legendary goalkeeper Oliver Kahn.
“Well, this is where it gets interesting!” Kick Off exclaimed, as Derpy and Rainbow Dash hoof-bumped in the Travellers Rest. “As it stands, Chelsea would go top of the group, and there is no score at Parkhead in the other game in Group F.”
“Didn’t he used to be really good?” Dinky asked, as the ITV cameras replayed the goal.
“He still is,” I replied, “But the first choice spot in Germany’s World Cup squad went to Jens Lehmann. Kahn only played in the third-place playoff.”
Chelsea then proceeded to enjoy a dominant spell, as they broke again down the right. However, Shaun Wright-Phillips’ cross came to nothing. A Chelsea free kick also came to nothing, as Lampard tried to repeat his goal at Old Trafford from further out.
Bayern, however, came back into the match, and in the 29th minute Marc van Bommel sent a cross into the area, which evaded everyone. However, in the 36th minute, Roque Santa Cruz was fed in by Schweinsteiger and although the initial shot was saved by Cech, Lukas Podolski pounced on the rebound and steered the ball into the empty net. Half time ended with the score at 1-1, with still no score at Parkhead, which as it stood would mean no change in position.
As the second half began, Bayern set out with renewed vigour. A little over five minutes in, Podolski received the ball out wide and sent a ball at goal from a nearly-impossible angle, which Cech had to tip wide to be absolutely sure. A minute later, the corner was cleared to Schweinsteiger, who sent his shot over the bar.
“We can bring you news of a goal from the other game in Group F,” Kick Off said, as Makelele intercepted a Bayern pass, “and it is Celtic one, Benfica nil. Kenny Miller with the goal, which has huge implications for Chelsea too.”
Seemingly boosted by the news, Chelsea looked to attack as Arjen Robben broke down the left before sending a cross into the area for Drogba, whose shot was saved by Kahn. And two minutes later…
“...as Lahm looks for Schweinsteiger, and it is now Celtic two, Benfica nil at Parkhead, and it’s Kenny Miller again…”
With fifteen minutes to go, Chelsea broke clear once more, with Lampard seeing a shot saved by Kahn. The match ended up petering out into a draw, and while a win would have been nice, a point away to Bayern Munich was not to be sniffed at.
Bayern Munich 1-1 Chelsea (Podolski 36; Robben 16)
“So, a big point for Chelsea there,” said Big Match, “And the other result has finished Celtic three, Benfica nil. So this is how the group table looks at the halfway point.”
It was a good round of fixtures for the British sides. Arsenal won 3-0 away to CSKA Moscow, while Man Utd won 1-0 against Sporting and Liverpool won 1-0 in Bordeaux. The return fixtures would be in two weeks’ time, but there were league matches to navigate first.
“So do you want the good news or the bad news about today's fixture first?” I asked, as Dinky, as per every weekend, lay curled up next to me.
“Er...the good news, please,” Dinky answered.
“The good news, we're at home, against Bolton.”
“And the bad news?”
“It's the early kick off, 12:30. Mind you, it could be away and a 12:30 kick off.”
“...Sam Allardyce has defended his side's physical approach, claiming that it has reaped rewards in recent weeks despite a higher-than-average number of yellow cards. Meanwhile, Mourinho has said that the defeat at Middlesbrough was an anomaly, and...”
“How would you set us up today?” Dinky asked, as I switched the kettle on.
“Look to keep Anelka out of the game and hit them on the counter,” I replied, “If you remember their 3-2 win over Portsmouth last weekend, Anelka was involved in all three of their goals and they looked vulnerable every time Portsmouth went on the attack. Isolate him, and we take out their main threat.”
The day had dawned crisp but clear and, come 11:40, the two of us had met up with Rainbow Dash and were on our way to the ground.
“If we attack early, we'll win,” I said, as we entered the turnstiles. “Impose ourselves early on and keep Anelka quiet.”
“...it's high-flying Bolton for Chelsea to deal with today as the Blues go back to the daily grind of the League,” Kick Off explained as, at Stamford Bridge, the two sides walked out to The Liquidator and, in the Travellers Rest, Derpy and Twilight took their usual places. “Mourinho starts Essien, Lampard and Ballack all in midfield, whilst Joe Cole makes his first start of the season following the injury he sustained at the World Cup.”
“Good to see him back,” I said. “He was brilliant last season.”
The game kicked off and it became clear that Mourinho had the same ideas as I did as Chelsea looked to attack early. As early as the sixth minute, Drogba looked to latch on to a long ball, but failed to control it and Jaaskelainen let it run out for a goal kick. In the twentieth minute, Drogba was able to control the ball, but he fired wide.
In the 25th minute, however, things changed. As Bolton looked to play the ball out of defence, Bolton defender Tal Ben-Haim was caught out by Drogba, who took the ball into the area before firing it under the outstretched arm of Jaaskelainen to give Chelsea the lead. Two minutes later, Drogba chipped the ball to Robben, whose cross was fired over by Joe Cole.
Chelsea continued to attack, and in the 32nd minute an interception by Ballack set Arjen Robben away down the left. Robben crossed the ball into the area, where a stooping header from Drogba sent the ball past Jaaskelainen to double Chelsea’s lead.
The home side then looked to deprive Bolton of possession, and played a short passing game to the delight of the home fans. A good passing build up found Joe Cole, who fired the ball wide.
Four minutes before half time, Joe Cole was sent away down the right and crossed into the area for Drogba, who took the ball down before firing past Jaaskelainen to complete a first half hat trick.
“Game over,” Rainbow Dash said confidently as the teams left the field at half time.
Mourinho seemed to think the same, and opted to take Drogba off at half time, replacing him with Salomon Kalou. Chelsea’s dominance continued, however, and early in the second half Robben fired a shot high and wide.
If the result had still been in doubt before half time, it wasn't just before the hour mark. Wayne Bridge tackled Anelka and passed to Lampard, who passed the ball on to Michael Essien. Essien passed to Salomon Kalou, who fed in Joe Cole. Joe Cole's shot beat Jaaskelainen at the near post to further increase Chelsea's lead.
Chelsea, by now practically assured of victory, took their foot off the pedal, and the game entered a quiet phase for the following twenty minutes. However, with a little over ten minutes left, Bolton broke down the left flank and Kevin Davies hit a long, high ball to Kevin Nolan, who beat the offside trap to head the ball past the outstretched arm of Cech to grab a consolation goal.
Chelsea looked to have the final say on the game, however, and with four minutes left Joe Cole crossed the ball in for Kalou, whose shot was tipped behind by Jaaskelainen. The resulting corner was met by the head of Robert Kovac, and a goalmouth scramble saw Kalou hit the side netting.
Chelsea 4-1 Bolton Wanderers (Drogba 25, 32, 41, J. Cole 58; Nolan 79)
"You know, we really need to get a good run together now," I said, as we headed back. "Watford away, Arsenal at home, Sheffield United and Everton away and Aston Villa and Manchester City at home; I'd expect sixteen points from that at the very least."
It was a good result for Chelsea, but the Blues were still off the pace. Manchester United had reacted to their loss to win their next two, and sat five points clear at the top and eight points clear of Chelsea.
November arrived, and the nights were drawing in as the two of us set out the following Saturday. Watford sat second from bottom in the table, and an easy three points were expected after the match against Bolton.
“Of course, that's what's expected,” I said, as the two of us boarded the Southern service to Watford Junction at West Brompton, “But given how much expectation has differed from reality this season...”
“You ready to watch the match with us, Rainbow Dash?”
Rainbow Dash looked around to see Twilight and Derpy pass by on their way to watch the game, which was the Saturday evening kick off.
“Not today, I'm afraid,” Rainbow Dash replied, “I promised Scoots I'd watch it with her at her aunts' place.”
Despite what most had predicted, with just over half an hour remaining, it was turning out to be a very drab game. Watford had looked to defend from the off and the score was still goalless as the hour mark approached.
“Well, once again, Chelsea have not been at their best here,” Kick Off said, as the ball went out for a throw-in. “I'm not sure what it is that hasn't clicked, but it seems to have Mourinho stumped as much as the rest of us.”
“Indeed, Kick Off,” Full Time agreed. “And I mean, Watford are second bottom. They shouldn't be posing a threat at all.”
Lofty sat on the sofa with a large grin on her face. “We're going to do it, you know,” she said.
“I'm going to say Lampard to score next,” Scootaloo retorted.
“Scootaloo!” Holiday replied. “You know full well it's going to be Robben.”
“Drogba,” Rainbow Dash put in.
“Oh, you of little faith,” Lofty said. “I have full confidence that-”
“...and he's found Fontana,” Kick Off commented, “and Fontana plays a square ball to Drogba. Drogba goes for goal from the edge of the box, and it's there! The deadlock broken at last, Foster had no chance saving that, and it's Watford nil, Chelsea one!”
“Told you so,” Rainbow Dash replied smugly.
“Took them long enough,” I snorted, as Drogba celebrated.
Chelsea's dominance seemed to have paid off at last, as they began to breach the Watford back four. Ten minutes after the goal, Drogba passed to Fontana, who found Robben. Robben played in Drogba, whose shot was tipped over by Foster.
With two minutes left, however, the final blow came. Joe Cole took off down the right, and passed to Drogba. Drogba cut inside and, from the edge of the area, sent a diagonal shot into the opposite corner to seal the points.
Watford 0-2 Chelsea (Drogba 63, 88)
“Well, it came eventually,” I said, as the two of us joined several supporters on the train back, “But either we have to grind results out sometimes, or it's a worry that we can't take an earlier lead, especially with Bayern and Arsenal coming up.”
Premier League Table
1 Man Utd 31pts 2 Liverpool 26pts 3 Arsenal 25pts 4 Chelsea 23pts 5 Bolton 22pts 6 Tottenham 19pts 7 Portsmouth 18pts … 16 Sheffield Utd 12pts 17 West Ham 11pts 18 Sheffield United 9pts 19 Watford 8pts 20 Charlton 5pts
“It'll be good to be back at Stamford Bridge,” I said, as the two of us prepared to depart for Chelsea's return group game against Bayern Munich. “I attended the quarter-final against Bayern here two years ago, and-”
“Chelsea won 4-2?” Dinky interjected.
“Yes.” I replied, impressed by her guessing. “We would have won 4-1, but Ballack dived in the area to win a penalty and get them a second in stoppage time. We went through to the semis despite losing the second leg 3-2.”
Of course, Ballack was now a Chelsea player, and he was missing for this match due to injury. And against Bayern, that wasn't ideal, especially with Benfica hosting Celtic and looking to leapfrog Chelsea in the standings.
“We could do with some of your weather control,” I joked to Rainbow Dash, as the three of us headed through the rain to the Stadium, its lights seemingly guiding the crowds into it like 42,000 ships entering a massive port.
Mourinho had opted to field Geremi alongside Essien and Makelele, with Lampard in the hole behind Drogba and Fontana, which matched Bayern's own 4-3-1-2 formation.
The game started evenly, but it was the German side which struck first after 18 minutes. A corner was only half-cleared, and Pizarro got the ball on the edge of the area before feeding in Roy Makaay, who sent the ball past Cech.
Chelsea responded, however, and two minutes later Ottl was penalised for a foul on Drogba. Lampard stepped up for the free kick, looking to repeat his goal against Manchester United, but this time he fired the ball over the bar. In the 29th minute, Drogba passed to Lampard, who played the ball to Fontana. Fontana let fly from the edge of the area, only to see his shot cannon back off the post and be cleared. Three minutes later, Drogba looked to get a goal himself, only to miss the target.
Chelsea had looked to take control of the game, but two minutes from the break, Bayern looked to increase their lead. Some good play down the right flank saw Claudio Pizarro sent a cross in for Podolski, who headed the ball wide.
Chelsea, relieved at having been let off the hook, looked to attack once more and, in stoppage time at the end of the half, Geremi tackled Pizarro and moved the ball to Lampard, who played a through ball to Fontana. Fontana got free of the defence and took the ball into the box before placing a shot into the bottom left corner of the net as Kahn came out to meet him.
“Get in, great time to score!” I shouted, as the home supporters cheered.
“Isn't it always a good time to score?” Dinky asked.
“Scoring just before half time generally has a psychological effect,” I replied, “At least, that's what the pundits always say. Besides, four years ago, World Cup quarter-final, England are 1-0 up on Brazil, then Ronaldo scores just before the break. Brazil went on to win 2-1.”
“Was that the one where-”
“-Ronaldinho caught Seaman off his line from 35 yards out, yes.”
The second half began with Bayern looking to sit deep and frustrate Chelsea, but in the 51st minute Chelsea broke away down the right. Khalid Boulahrouz took the ball down the flank and sent a cross into the area, only for Kahn to catch it.
Six minutes later, the Blues went on the attack again. Essien passed to Lampard, who ran at the defence before slipping the ball to Fontana. Fontana aimed for the top corner from just inside the area, and although Kahn got his hands to the ball, he couldn't keep it out.
On the hour mark, Chelsea tried to come forward once more, but Geremi was penalised for a foul on Schweinsteiger.
Bayern then looked to attack themselves, with Schweinsteiger sending a cross into the Chelsea area in the 66th minute, which was cleared by John Terry.
A minute later, however, a defensive mix-up between Boulahrouz and Kovac allowed Podolski to steal into the area and pounce to bring Bayern level.
After that, the match devolved into a midfield battle, with little to distinguish between the two sides in the final 20 minutes. In the final minute of normal time, Fontana got through on goal and looked to complete his hat-trick, but his shot was tipped behind by Oliver Kahn.
“Well, Chelsea will regard this as two points dropped in the end,” Big Match said, “But they know what they have to do. Win their two remaining group matches, and they are assured of a place in the last 16.”
Benfica had retaken second spot in the group with a 3-0 win over Celtic, but Chelsea would qualify if they picked up maximum points from their remaining two games.
In a pub in Canterlot the following day, two mares from the Foal Protection Services were eating their lunch and discussing the cause of what had nearly resulted in an international (for want of a better word) incident with Great Britain.
“I still don't understand why Belladonna insisted on sending Dinky to London,” one of them said, as she put ketchup on her hayburger. “We could have set her up with that couple in Coltsborough and sorted out visitation in three months at most. At least Coltsborough has its own school of magic, rather than the weekly hour of tuition that the embassy offers-"
"What about that school of magic in Scotland?"
"Lyra, you know full well that Hogwarts is fictional. Besides, I never liked those books. The writer's knowledge of social services seemed to start and end with Oliver Twist, just like how soap opera writers' knowledge of the profession starts and ends with Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. Anyway, going back to my point, it just seems unnecessarily cruel-”
“There's your answer, Autumn,” Lyra responded. “I'd bet you that cruel is our glorious leader's middle name. Why else would she make that agreement about Chelsea winning the treble? All the same,” she continued, “I should have taken Dinky to her new guardian, given that I actually know him.”
“Wait, what?” Autumn spluttered, nearly showering Lyra with bits of hayburger. “How...why…when...”
“When I was in the middle of secondary school, I spent a term in London as an exchange student,” Lyra explained. “He was part of my host family.”
“Did you see all the sights of London?”
“Most of them,” Lyra said. “As well as Tomorrow Never Dies.”
“I preferred A View To A Kill, myself. Anyway, are you still seeing Ms Hooves?”
“Yes, every Friday at 3pm. She tells me she's coping fine, but I'm not too sure myself; she's kept a shrine consisting of everything her daughter sends her from London-”
“That doesn't seem amiss.”
“-and a noticeboard comprising of the reports of every match Chelsea have won this season.”
“Touché.”
“How are you doing sorting out visitation?”
“It's strange,” Autumn said. “I sent off the form to the visitation office weeks ago but they're still yet to receive it. I'd like to think it's just gotten lost in a black hole of paperwork, but...”
“I see what you mean,” Lyra replied, “But we had problems with paperwork before, and we'll continue to have problems with paperwork. Try and chase it up, and if that doesn't work, send out another one.”
“We really used to struggle against them,” I said, in response to Dinky's question about today's opposition. “We couldn't beat them in the league and they beat us in the FA Cup four years in a row.”
“That's not really encouraging.”
“Indeed not. But,” I continued, “We beat them in the Champions League at Highbury during the season they went unbeaten and we beat them home and away last season.”
Of course, it wouldn’t be that straightforward. Neither Terry or Lampard were fully fit following the game against Bayern Munich and Ballack was still injured. In addition, Arsenal were in a rich vein of form at present, having not lost since their 2-0 defeat at Reading.
The two of us entered the kitchen and I switched the kettle on before switching on Sky Sports, which was previewing the weekend’s matches and currently discussing the one between Tottenham and Manchester United.
Of course, it was going to be a tough game. Arsenal’s recent form, the absence of four influential players from fatigue (Terry, Lampard), injury (Ballack) and illness (Fontana) and the general calibre of players in the Arsenal squad could potentially spell real trouble for Chelsea, as well as a referee who was only too keen to reach for his pocket. Hopefully we’d see the strength of the squad shine through, especially since a win would see us go up to third in the table. And as the game started after the ground fell silent for a minute to remember those who’d fallen, it seemed to do so. Chelsea edged the opening fifteen minutes, creating two chances, one of which went wide and the other of which was saved by Lehmann.
But then Thierry Henry once again proved why he was one of the most feared strikers in football, and why Barcelona and Real Madrid had been so keen to sign him in the summer. He collected the ball from Fabregas and got past Makelele and Kovac before sending the ball past Cech to give Arsenal the lead.
Chelsea responded, with Essien rattling the post shortly afterwards. Robert Kovac was booked in the 37th minute for a foul on Emmanuel Adebayor, with the free kick blocked by the wall. Chelsea then went up the other end, and won a corner in the 41st minute, which was cleared.
Three minutes later, however, Ashley Cole beat Fabregas to the ball and passed to Geremi. Geremi passed to Drogba, who played the ball to Joe Cole. Cole ran at William Gallas, his former team-mate who’d joined Arsenal in an exchange deal with Ashley Cole, before turning and sending the ball past the outstretched arm of Lehmann and into the bottom corner of the net off the inside of the post.
“Absolutely brilliant!” Kick Off exclaimed. “Superb build-up from Chelsea there, and Joe Cole with a shot which no goalkeeper could have saved! And now, Arsene Wenger has to re-write his half time team talk from scratch!”
The second half actually started quietly, with only a couple of half chances in the opening fifteen minutes. Just after the hour mark, Ashley Cole got down the left and sent a cross in to Joe Cole, who fired the ball over the bar.
Three minutes later, Michael Essien, looking to launch another attack, passed the ball to Drogba. Drogba played a one-two pass with Robben, before getting to the edge of the area and going for goal. Lehmann actually got his hand to the shot, but it was too powerful and settled in the net.
With just under 20 minutes left, Chelsea looked to attack once more. Makelele intercepted a potentially hazardous pass from Hleb to Henry and passed to Drogba, who played the ball onto Joe Cole. Joe Cole took the ball into the area and crossed it in for Robben, who sent a scissor kick over the bar. Mikel then came on to replace the booked Kovac, with Michael Essien slotting in at centre-back.
With six minutes remaining, and with Chelsea looking to put the result beyond doubt, Joe Cole passed to Mikel, who sent the ball through Emmanuel Eboue’s legs to Drogba. Drogba ran through the Arsenal half before passing the ball along the edge of the box to Mikel, who played in Robben. Robben then sent the ball flashing wide of the post.
For all Chelsea’s dominance, Arsenal went on the attack in the third minute of added time. Hleb crossed to Ljungberg, whose header was straight at Cech.
Chelsea 2-1 Arsenal (Joe Cole 44, Drogba 64; Henry 17)
Mourinho was elated with the win, and he wasn’t the only one. Both Derpy and Dinky left the Traveller’s Rest and Stamford Bridge respectively with huge smiles on their faces, and the results later that weekend made things even better. Bolton kept Liverpool out in a 0-0 draw at the Reebok, while a late equaliser from Dimitar Berbatov saw Tottenham salvage a 2-2 draw against Man Utd at White Hart Lane.
Premier League Table
1 Man Utd 32pts 2 Liverpool 27pts 3 Chelsea 26pts 4 Arsenal 25pts 5 Bolton 23pts 6 Tottenham 20pts … 16 Blackburn 13pts 17 West Ham 11pts 18 Sheffield United 10pts 19 Watford 9pts 20 Charlton 8pts
“For crying out loud, respond!” Autumn groaned to herself, as yet again she tried to chase up the form regarding Derpy's visitation rights which she'd filled out and sent to the visitation office weeks ago, only for it to seemingly get lost in the documents department... where, it seemed, important documents went to die. She'd watched The Twelve Tasks of Asterix at the weekend and was strongly reminded of The Place That Sends You Mad.
She wondered if they were actively looking to stop Derpy from seeing Dinky again, but dismissed the idea; that would require competence, and that was not a word in their dictionary, which evidently didn't extend beyond “coffee break”.
Her thoughts were interrupted, however, by Belladonna stalking past her office with a face like a thunderstorm, carrying a piece of paper.
“I'm telling you, if looks could kill, anyone she'd glanced at would have been obliterated,” she told Lyra in the pub that evening.
“Makes a change from that smirk she's usually got,” Lyra responded, “What do you reckon rattled her cage anyway?”
“My guess? She found someone she can't push around.”
Autumn was right; the piece of paper had been a letter which had come from London.
“Dear Ms Nightshade,
In response to the letter you sent me last week, I can tell you in no uncertain terms that I am not going to change Dinky's name in any way, shape or form. I refuse to effectively erase part of her identity, and if you send me another letter like this one it will go straight into the bin. And if you use this as an excuse to cheat on the agreement, I will report you to the British Embassy.
Yours sincerely,
George Spencer”
Derpy returned to her house after doing her daily rounds. She hung her cap on its hook and produced the last letter from her postbag - the one with the London postmark.
“Dear Mommy,
Belladonna wrote to George last week asking him to change my name” - Derpy's heart sank - “but he wrote back telling her that if she asked him that again he'd write to the British Embassy and get them to sort her out. Don't worry if you don't get a letter from me until later in the week, as I am being taken to my first European away match this week. We will take the sleeper train from Glasgow to get back after the game.
“Welcome back to Scotland,” I said, as the two of us disembarked from the train which had brought us to Glasgow Central.
“That was a tilting train?” Dinky asked. “I barely felt it tilt at all.”
“That’s a good thing,” I responded. “They tried something like that in the 1980s and the tilting was so pronounced it gave numerous passengers motion sickness.”
“Are we going to Hampden Park again?”
“No, this one’s at Celtic Park. It’s about a mile away, but we can take it easy as the game isn’t for two hours.”
“Round two of the Battle of Britain tonight here at Celtic Park,” Kick Off announced, as Twilight, Derpy and Rainbow Dash were joined by Lyra in the Traveller’s Rest. “With both sides needing a win to keep their hopes of progress alive. Chelsea know that two wins from their last two games will be enough to make it into the knockout stage, while Celtic would need to win both of theirs and hope results elsewhere go their way. Celtic showed Jacques Santini the door last week after they lost 3-0 to Benfica, and Gordon Strachan has subsequently been appointed...”
“There’s something I was going to ask you last time we were here,” Dinky said, as the two of us made our way towards the stadium. “What was the ‘pink menace’ that everyone here was talking about?”
“I think I read about it,” I replied. “From what I can recall, a pink earth pony with a pink mane visited here the summer before you arrived, took a bite out of a deep-fried Mars Bar” - Dinky wrinkled her nose at the thought of such a thing - “and suddenly turned into a whirlwind which ran riot through the middle of Glasgow.”
“...Strachan has promised to bring a fresh approach to what has been a stale campaign so far, but Mourinho has said that he is fully confident in Chelsea’s chances of qualification.”
25 minutes into the match, there was little to show for either side other than a yellow card for Boulahrouz and McGeady respectively. However, Chelsea came forward, with Joe Cole forcing a corner, which came to nothing.
A few minutes later, Celtic launched the ball downfield, with Boulahrouz intercepting and playing a long pass along the floor to Drogba. Drogba passed to Fontana, who was tackled by Pressley.
In the 32nd minute, Ashley Cole passed to Makelele, who played the ball on to Lampard. Lampard passed to Fontana, who took the ball into the area before crossing to Drogba. Drogba got his head to the ball, and had no problem beating a scrambling Boruc.
Just before half time, a rare Celtic attack saw former Everton and Real Madrid midfielder Thomas Gravesen launch a cross into the area, which Cech had no trouble dealing with.
Just when Dinky had thought she was used to life in Britain, there was something else to discover. In this case, it was the half time food; a pie with Macaroni Cheese in it. Amazingly, it actually worked.
The second half was only four minutes old when Boulahrouz took the ball down the right and sent a cross into the area, only for Drogba to hit the post from point-blank range. The visitors would have better luck shortly afterwards, however, as Drogba passed to Fontana, who played Joe Cole in. Joe Cole took off down the left before sending in a cross, which Lampard converted at the far post.
Having been booked early in the second half, it came as no surprise that Boulahrouz was the first player to be taken off, with Paulo Ferreira replacing him. Fontana then followed, being replaced by Shaun Wright-Phillips as Mourinho reverted to five in midfield.
Celtic then began to apply pressure, with a long ball by Wilson being headed clear by Kovac. With just over 15 minutes left, Zurawski sent in a cross which was deflected off Ashley Cole to Vennegoor, who beat Makelele before seeing his shot saved by Cech and cleared by Ferreira. Celtic won a corner five minutes later, and after a defensive mix-up, Cech saved from Gravesen at the expense of another corner, from which Pressley headed wide.
With five minutes to go, Lampard played in Drogba, who played a one-touch pass to Wright-Phillips. Wright-Phillips sent in a cross to the far post, where Arjen Robben raced in to head home.
Celtic did try and make one last foray forward with two minutes left. Shensuke Nakamura sent a long ball forward to Zurawski, who headed the ball straight at Cech.
Celtic 0-3 Chelsea (Drogba 32, Lampard 54, Robben 85)
“So, a big win for Chelsea, who go up to second in the group with one match left.” Big Match summarised. “This means that they only need a point from their last match against Benfica after the Portuguese side were beaten 2-1 by Bayern Munich, who are now guaranteed top spot due to their head-to-head record against Chelsea. Celtic, meanwhile, are now out of the Champions League.”
“Well, it was fun while it lasted,” Lyra said, as she got up from her seat in the Traveller’s Rest. “Maybe we’ll do better next season, that is if Strachan can get us going again. See you on Friday, Derpy.”
“All we have to do in two weeks’ time is avoid defeat, and we go through,” I explained, as the taxi took the two of us back to Glasgow Central station for the Lowland Sleeper to Euston. “And then, on our day, we can beat anyone. The games against Man Utd and Arsenal are proof of that.”
Man Utd and Arsenal, meanwhile, were both held, 1-1 against Spartak Moscow and 0-0 against Hamburg respectively, whilst Liverpool had beaten PSV Eindhoven 3-1. Before the final group game, however, Chelsea faced away matches against Sheffield United and Everton, before hosting Aston Villa. It would be absolutely essential to pick up maximum points, especially with Manchester United's next two matches being against Arsenal and Liverpool.
“You can’t win anything with kids” - Alan Hansen, 1995
The away match at Sheffield United, who sat third from bottom of the league, should have been an easy three points. But with Drogba having picked up a knock and therefore not fit enough to start and Fontana not performing in training, it meant that Chelsea faced a potential dilemma in the striker department.
The train trip up to Bramall Lane was filled with conjecture, speculation, and wild guessing. But three points were practically a must, as I told Dinky, “A win today and depending on what happens at the Emirates tomorrow, we either gain ground on United or put daylight between ourselves and Arsenal.”
When the teams were announced, however, it came as a major surprise and raised quite a few eyebrows.
“...news coming through that Chelsea have elected to start Danny Doyle up front,” Big Match announced. “He leads the line along with Salomon Kalou, with Didier Drogba on the bench today. Talk about a baptism of fire for the 16-year-old.”
“Seriously?” Rainbow Dash groaned in the Traveller’s Rest. “We’re starting a kid up front in a Premier League match? This is what FA Cup games should be used for!”
“If a player is good enough, they’re old enough.” Twilight replied.
It took just three minutes of the game for one of their opinions to be justified. A searching pass from Makelele found Joe Cole, who played in Kalou. Rather than going for goal, Kalou elected to pass into the area, and Doyle raced in to fire the ball across Paddy Kenny and into the net.
“Well, how about that!” Kick Off exclaimed. “Three minutes into his Chelsea debut, at the age of 16, and Danny Doyle gives his side the lead!”
Of course, like so many times previously that season, Chelsea made it difficult for themselves, and the home side soon came back into the game. A quick break saw Chelsea caught cold, and Rob Hulse got to the ball first and slotted it past Cech.
“Not this again,” I groaned as the home crowd celebrated. “I thought we’d put this behind us.”
However, the visitors had control – for the moment, at least – and with half an hour gone, a break down the left by Joe Cole saw a cross drilled into the area, and Doyle controlled it before rolling the ball into the bottom right corner.
“I can’t believe what I’m seeing here!” Kick Off exclaimed, more excitedly than the first time, “It’s two for Chelsea now, and two for Danny Doyle! What a debut the young striker is having!”
“What was it you were saying, Rainbow Dash?” Twilight asked sweetly.
Unfortunately, Chelsea wouldn’t be in front for long. Keith Gillespie brought the hosts level again from twenty yards just before the interval and then, six minutes into the second half, Danny Webber headed home from a Sheffield United corner, causing Derpy and Rainbow Dash to groan loudly. The Blades then looked to shut Chelsea out, and mark Doyle out of the game; even the introduction of Drogba for Kalou seemed to have little effect. However, with two minutes of normal time to go, Chelsea won a corner. John Terry rose to head the ball, but his header was cleared off the line...straight to Doyle, who volleyed the ball into the net.
“That is incredible!” Kick Off practically screamed, as the young striker found himself in the middle of a multi-armed hug and Derpy danced a jig with Rainbow Dash. “Danny Doyle writes his name into Chelsea folklore! He writes his name into Premier League history; at 16 years and 152 days old, he is the youngest ever player to score a Premier League hat-trick, and he has done it on his debut!”
Sheffield United 3-3 Chelsea (Hulse 10, Gillespie 42, Webber 51; Doyle 3, 30, 89)
Despite the disappointment of dropping two points, especially since Arsenal would win 2-1 against Man Utd the following day to leapfrog Chelsea into 3rd, the mood on the train was largely a positive one because of Danny Doyle’s explosive debut. In the post-match interview, in which he was handed a bottle of champagne, he simply said that he was “grateful for the opportunity”. Mourinho, on the other hand, said that Doyle could be “better than Wayne Rooney”.
“We saw history made today.” I said, as the two of us arrived back at the apartment.
One week later
“Well, so much has been said and written about someone so young, and it’s not surprising.” Kick Off said, as the teams came out for the second half at Goodison Park.
Chelsea were playing their return league match with Everton, and after his debut hat-trick, it came as no surprise that Danny Doyle had started up front with Drogba. That had reaped its reward, as the Blues held a 1-0 half time lead, with Doyle running onto a Lampard pass and slotting the ball past Tim Howard eight minutes before half time.
The hosts looked to start the second half strongly, however, and four minutes in, Mikel Arteta was brought down in the area by Boulahrouz and stepped up to send Cech the wrong way.
Rather than wilt, however, Chelsea kept their heads up, and in the 55th minute, Lampard nearly turned provider again, with Danny Doyle connecting with his pass before sending a shot just wide.
The match wore on throughout the second half, with resolute defending from Everton constantly frustrating Chelsea. But in the 78th minute, as the away side came forward again, Drogba was brought down by Alan Stubbs, who received a yellow card for the challenge. The free kick was in a similar position to the one at Old Trafford and Frank Lampard made no mistake, sending the ball over the wall and into the net.
Everton threw players forward as the clock ticked on, but then came the 87th minute. A long goal kick from Cech was controlled and then chipped to Drogba by Doyle. Drogba was approximately 35 yards out with his back to goal, but he chested the ball down, turned, and volleyed it into the net with Howard unable to do anything about it to score one of the most spectacular goals of the season. For once, in the Traveller’s Rest, Rainbow Dash was stunned into silence. Kick Off, meanwhile, ecstatically proclaimed that "You won't see a more spectacular goal in the Premier League this season!"
“Well, once again, Doyle was instrumental,” Kick Off said, as the teams left the pitch. “After his outstanding hat trick last weekend, he continues to get better and better.”
“Indeed,” Full Time replied. “Four goals in his first two games for the club, Mourinho must be thinking about making him a regular starter.”
Premier League Table
1 Man Utd 35pts 2 Arsenal 31pts 3 Chelsea 30pts 4 Liverpool 30pts 5 Bolton 25pts 6 Tottenham 24pts … 16 West Ham 14pts 17 Sheffield Utd 13pts 18 Blackburn 13pts 19 Watford 9pts 20 Charlton 9pts
One of the benefits of being a senior employee, Autumn thought to herself, was that you could shut your office door and nobody would bother you. As such, she was enjoying a nice quiet Monday morning, with only the radio for company, as she filled out paperwork.
“...Mourinho said after yesterday’s game that the pieces are falling into place for Chelsea,” Breaking News announced, as he covered the football. “And Danny Doyle is quickly becoming a fan idol at the club, despite only having played two matches.”
“No surprises there,” Autumn muttered, as she started filling out a form.
“And finally, an Equestria-wide poll has seen the 2005 Champions League final, between Milan and Liverpool, voted the most exciting ever. The match polled in at 52%, with the 1999 final being the closest challenger on 28%...”
Autumn had given up on chasing up Derpy’s visitation rights form, and had decided to fill out a new one from scratch. This time, when she put it in a hardback envelope and wrote the recipient on it, she stamped “URGENT” on it in large letters, before taking it to the internal post trolley and going to make a cup of tea.
She didn’t notice that Belladonna had been spying on her from the moment she’d emerged from her office.
“The badge on the shirt is more important than the name on the back.” - Erik Dornhelm (played by Marcel Iures), Goal! The Dream Begins, 2005
It was no surprise that everyone was talking about Danny Doyle after he’d made his mark on the Premier League. The 16-year-old became hot property in Fantasy Football, and the club megastore sold out of replica shirts - for both humans and ponies - with his name and number (35) on them days after the Everton game. There was even talk of him being named the Premier League’s Young Player of the Year at the end of the season, even though there was still over half of the season left to run. Yet not everyone was singing his praises.
“I tell you, our esteemed leader looks like she’s swallowed quite a few lemons recently,” Autumn said in the Two Princesses pub in Canterlot on Friday afternoon, as Lyra joined her after seeing Derpy.
“And I think I know why,” Lyra smirked, as the TV replayed Danny Doyle’s goal against Everton. “If you make a gamble like she did, you have to accept the risks. Did you ever find out about the form you sent out?”
“Nothing,” Autumn responded. “I gave up and sent out a new one. Hopefully those layabouts in the documents department actually know what ‘urgent’ means - if they know how to spell it, anyway. I’ll give it a month - maximum - and then go down there and sort it out myself if I have to.”
Saturday 2nd December
“Two weeks ago, he was virtually unknown,” Kick Off said, as Sport 1 began its coverage of the game between Chelsea and Aston Villa, “But Danny Doyle has really made his mark on the Premier League. Even Bruce Buck has said that he’s excited about the young striker…”
“What is it we’re supposed to have heard about Fontana?” I asked Rainbow Dash, as the three of us took our seats at the ground.
“Apparently he’s not happy about all the attention being lavished on our new wonderkid,” Rainbow Dash replied, just as Danny Doyle’s name was read out by the stadium announcer and met with raucous cheers.
“Then he’s an idiot,” Dinky put in. “He’s supposed to be playing for the team, not for himself.”
“All the same, five clubs in the last seven years is pretty telling,” Rainbow Dash replied, as The Liquidator began to play and the teams walked out. “And let’s not forget that Real were willing to part with him for less than half of what they spent on Shevchenko.”
“Well, this game is almost a sideshow to rumours and speculation surrounding two players, both of whom lead the line today,” Kick Off announced. “There are rumours of envy from the veteran striker, and Mourinho will surely want to dispel these rumours by playing them together up front.”
Chelsea started well, and once again Doyle tormented the Villa defence, his finishing letting him down when Lampard played him in after 8 minutes. However, the visitors looked to attack as well, with Gabriel Agbonlahor shooting over the bar after being let in by poor Chelsea defending.
In the 24th minute, a throw-in by Arjen Robben found Wright-Phillips, who passed to Fontana. Fontana, eager to get his name on the scoresheet, let fly from the edge of the box. His shot was saved by Thomas Sorensen, but the Villa keeper was unable to hold it, and Doyle pounced to slide the ball into the net to score his fifth goal in three matches.
Chelsea continued to dominate, and in the 32nd minute Robben played a through ball to Fontana. Fontana took the ball wide into the area before shooting just wide from an extremely tight angle with Doyle open wide, despite the urgings from the home crowd for him to pass it. Three minutes later, Essien played a short pass to Doyle, whose pass played Fontana in. Fontana went for goal from just inside the box, but his shot was tipped wide by Sorensen.
With six minutes to go until half time, Fontana got through again, but was brought down just outside the area by a despairing lunge by Olof Mellberg. Mellberg had been the last man, and was therefore sent off. Lampard stepped up and, as he’d done at Everton and Old Trafford, sent the ball over the wall and into the net.
With two minutes of the half remaining, a long ball by Villa right-back Hughes went wide with nobody to get on the end of it. Just before the break, Doyle played a long ball to Fontana, who sent his shot wide after getting into the area.
“I’m not too happy about Fontana,” I said at half time. “He seems to be going for glory rather than playing for the team.”
“We’re 2-0 up, aren’t we?” Dinky asked.
“He’s right, though,” Rainbow Dash answered. “Look at the one he missed from that angle just after the half hour. If he keeps doing this, the team’s eventually going to suffer.”
Chelsea looked to dictate the tempo in the second half, but still came forward. A cross from Ashley Cole was headed clear, but Wright-Phillips intercepted it and passed to Lampard. Lampard looked to play Fontana in, but Fontana’s shot was tipped behind. Four minutes later, Essien was fouled by Stilian Petrov, who received a yellow card.
Shortly after the hour mark, Wright-Phillips played Fontana in. Fontana went on a long run through the Villa back line, before sending a low shot beyond Sorensen into the bottom left corner of the net.
“That should be enough now,” I said, as the match restarted. “Hopefully his goal will temper him and he’ll remember he’s part of a team.”
However, Villa still had some fight left in them. With a little over 15 minutes remaining, Petrov passed to Gabriel Agbonlahor, who, from the edge of the box, caught Petr Cech off his line with a spectacular lob to pull a goal back for the visitors.
The game died down after that, but in stoppage time, Fontana broke free of the Villa defence and sent in a low shot, which Sorensen parried before securing at the second attempt.
Chelsea 3-1 Aston Villa (Doyle 24, Lampard 39, Fontana 63; Agbonlahor 73, Mellberg s/o 39)
“So, three games - his first three games in a Chelsea shirt - and five goals for Danny Doyle,” Big Match summarised after the match. “Is it too soon to say we’ve discovered the next big thing?”
“Well, he’s just been inspirational,” Kick Off agreed. “He’s proved to be the catalyst for Chelsea since he first appeared.”
“So, with Arsenal slipping up earlier today, this is how the league table looks…” Big Match continued.
Premier League table
1 Man Utd 38pts 2 Chelsea 33pts 3 Liverpool 33pts 4 Arsenal 31pts 5 Tottenham 27pts 6 Bolton 25pts … 16 Middlesbrough 16pts 17 Sheffield United 16pts 18 West Ham 14pts 19 Charlton 12pts 20 Watford 10pts
“Can’t say that’s not a good weekend,” I said, as we made our way back. “Now, we need to keep up the pressure. Sooner or later, United will wobble, and if we’re within range, we can pounce.”
With one round of the Champions League group games left, the situation was fairly straightforward. If Chelsea were to get at least a draw against Benfica, they would qualify for the knockout stage, although they would have to face a group winner due to Bayern’s better head-to-head record.
Of course, for the unicorn who had been in my care for nearly six months now, qualification was vital to keep hopes of the treble - and a reunion with her mother back in Ponyville - alive.
“Nervous?” I asked, as we left the flat and began the walk to the stadium.
“A little,” she admitted.
“We’ll be alright,” I said, as Rainbow Dash fell in alongside us. “Since the Bayern game, we’ve turned a corner. All we need to do is score early and give ourselves some breathing space.”
“Welcome to the final group game of the Champions League,” Big Match said. “We’re at Stamford Bridge, for this make-or-break clash between Chelsea and Benfica. Chelsea occupy that all-important second spot in the group, with Benfica needing a win to go through. For Chelsea, a draw would be enough…”
“So we’re OK if we draw?” Derpy asked Twilight in the Traveller’s Rest.
“Yes,” Twilight replied. “You see, Chelsea are second at the moment, so Benfica need to win or they have to make do with a UEFA Cup spot.”
“The stadium is packed out for the final group game,” Kick Off announced, as the two teams took to the field, “And Mourinho has gone with his two best strikers up front. Danny Doyle is on the bench, hoping to make his Champions League debut, but Mourinho has said he does not want to take risks. He’s also said that he won’t be happy with a draw, only a win - and a convincing one at that - will suffice.”
Of course, the last three games had fired Chelsea up and they attacked from the start. It took just two minutes for the home side to create a chance, with Arjen Robben’s cross being volleyed over the bar by Drogba.
With just over ten minutes gone, Fontana played the ball to Drogba, who got free of the defence. His shot was saved by Quim, but but Fontana pounced on the rebound and steered the ball into the empty net to give Chelsea the early goal Mourinho had demanded.
Benfica were being pinned back, and in the fifteenth minute, another cross from Robben was met by the head of Fontana. The Spaniard sent his header goalwards, but Quim tipped it against the bar and it was cleared by Ricardo Rocha.
It took until the 20th minute for the Portuguese side to get forward. Katsouranis, who had scored Benfica’s second goal against Chelsea in Lisbon back in September, took the ball down the right and crossed it into the area, only for it to be cleared by Paulo Ferreira. Chelsea then went on the counter, and only a smart save by Quim prevented Drogba from doubling the advantage before the ball was cleared by Nelson.
Four minutes later, another attack by Robben down the left saw the Dutch winger send in a cross. Fontana met it with a volley past Quim and into the net to make it 2-0.
“Fontana again!” Kick Off exclaimed. “That’s surely it now, Chelsea only needed a draw tonight and they lead by two goals to nil with less than half an hour gone!”
Realising that they were now up against it, Benfica began to look to get forward. Just after the half hour mark, Nuno Gomes took the ball through the Chelsea half, only to see his shot tipped behind by Cech. Four minutes later, Gomes got through again, only to fire wide, while Mourinho berated the defence from the Chelsea dugout. A Chelsea attack on the stroke of half time then saw Robben caught offside, before Simao shot wide for Benfica in first half stoppage time.
“Well, Chelsea have a commanding lead,” Kick Off said, as the teams left the pitch, “But they can’t afford complacency. A Benfica goal early in the second half could make them very uncomfortable.”
Benfica did look to score early in the second half, as they won a free kick two minutes after the break. Nuno Gomes took it, but it was headed clear by Terry. The home side then suffered a potential setback ten minutes later, as Drogba pulled up clutching his hamstring and was replaced by Doyle.
The boy wonder, as some were starting to call him, nearly made an instant impact, as on the hour mark he connected with a cross from Wright-Phillips only to shoot over the bar. Four minutes later, he played Fontana in, and Fontana got into the area. His shot was deflected off a defender to Shaun Wright-Phillips, whose shot was saved.
The match then went quiet for over 15 minutes, but with eight minutes left, Fontana went on a run through the Benfica half and into the area before being brought down by Luisao for a penalty. Lampard stepped up and smashed the ball into the top corner, sending Quim the wrong way and extinguishing any hope Benfica might have had of qualification.
There was still time for Chelsea to come forward again at the end of normal time, with Quim saving a shot from Michael Essien. Still, a 3-0 win was more than enough to make it into the knockout stage.
Chelsea 3-0 Benfica (Fontana 11, 26, Lampard pen 82)
“So a good victory for Chelsea, in the end, to see them comfortably progress to the round of 16” Big Match said, as the players celebrated in front of the Matthew Harding end. “And although it’s fairly straightforward, here’s how the final group table looks…”
Chelsea had been, incidentally, the only British side to win. Bayern won 3-2 against Celtic to finish the group stage unbeaten, while Arsenal were held to a 0-0 draw in Porto. The previous night, Man Utd had drawn 1-1 with Inter at Old Trafford while Liverpool had lost 1-0 to Galatasaray in Instanbul.
“So who will we play in the next round?” Dinky asked, as I put her to bed that night.
“Don’t know yet,” I replied. “It’s not like the World Cup, the draw for the Round of 16 is next week and the competition resumes in February.”
“Who can we play?”
“Let’s see,” I said, “Given that it has to be a group winner, and we can’t face a team from the same country until the quarter finals, or Bayern, because they were in our group, then it’ll be one of” - I counted on my fingers - “Barcelona, Galatasaray, Valencia, Lyon or Milan.”
“Not Real Madrid?”
“They finished second to Lyon.”
There was something on my mind as I went to bed that night. Dinky had been in London for nearly six months now - it would be six months on Saturday - and there’d been no mention of visitation rights. Surely I should have received something by now?
I’ll write to whoever the pony was - Autumn, I remembered - tomorrow, I thought, as I nodded off. At any rate, things were potentially looking up. Chelsea were through to the last 16 of the Champions League and had moved up to second in the table within five points of Manchester United.
“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.
“The dark night wakes, the glory breaks, and Christmas comes once more” - O Little Town of Bethlehem, verse 4 (not traditionally sung)
Saturday 23rd December
As Blue is the Colour played on the tannoy and the supporters celebrated a vital win, I whispered something in Rainbow Dash’s ear. The three of us then made our way out of the stadium, but I stopped outside the megastore.
“Wait there a minute,” I said, pulling out my mobile phone. “I just need to make a quick call.”
I returned a couple of minutes later.
“Let’s stop somewhere on the way back,” I said, as we began to head towards the apartment while Rainbow Dash made a beeline for the portal. “I don’t know about you, but I could really do with a hot chocolate after that. Preferably one with plenty of cream and marshmallows.”
Dinky nodded, the feeling returning to her legs as the relief she'd felt since the final whistle continued to wash over her.
“Get IN THERE. Stick that in your pipe and smoke it, you jumped-up dictator.” Lyra muttered to herself as she noticed the result, before she found herself being tapped on the back. She turned around, and Rainbow Dash promptly whispered something in her ear. She nodded.
Suddenly the damp patch on her chest, where Derpy had cried into it the previous afternoon, and which she had still felt even after a long shower, wasn't anywhere near as noticeable.
“I knew you'd like it,” I said, as I used my teaspoon to fish around for the last few marshmallows at the bottom of the mug. “Anyway, we'd best head back. The half time scores are going to be coming in and we need to know how the sides around us are doing.”
The two of us set off as Dinky licked specks of cream off her face.
“... and Bolton now trail by two goals to nil. Goal to tell you about in the Championship...”
The doorbell rang.
“I'll get it,” I said, getting up. Dinky raised an eyebrow - I always got the door anyway.
“I just hope it's not one of those cold callers…” I audibly muttered, as I went to answer the door. This further piqued Dinky's curiosity - the building had a rigidly enforced “No Cold Callers” policy.
She got down from the sofa and turned to face the front door - and found herself facing a grey pegasus with a blonde mane. Both ponies stood facing each other for a moment. Six hours beforehand, they'd been practically convinced that they were never going to see each other again. And then…
“Mommy!”
“Muffin! Oh, my Muffin, I've-I've missed you so much-!”
Allowing them some privacy, I left them to their joyful - and tearful - reunion and went back to the sofa, just in time to hear about an equaliser in the Tottenham game.
Barely half an hour later, the three of us were sat at the kitchen table. The two ponies (whose faces were damp with theirs and each other's tears) had eventually liberated each other from their tight hug and a pot of tea has being consumed whilst I listened intently to the radio.
“Good afternoon. It’s five o’clock, I’m Mark Pougatch, and this...is Sports Report.”
“Late drama at Stamford Bridge as a stoppage-time goal from Drogba secures the points for ten-man Chelsea…” Jonathan Pearce’s voice was then heard.
“What a run this is down the right from Joe Cole, sends a cross into the area, Drogba’s there! Didier Drogba has won it for Chelsea!”
“Bolton and Tottenham both slip up and lose ground on the top four, Manchester United march on, Everton climb up to seventh. In the Championship, Birmingham go six points clear at the top…”
“But...how?” Dinky finally asked, as Mark Pougatch continued to summarise the football news. “How were you able to get here?”
“Rainbow Dash lent me her season ticket for the game on Boxing Day,” Derpy replied.
“The FPA can’t stop ponies from attending football matches,” I added. “Unfortunately, for a club like Chelsea, tickets are like gold dust, and this was a spur-of-the-moment thing due to the fact we’re at home.”
“...but first, the classified results, read by James Alexander Gordon.”
“Barclays Premiership…”
Dinky took a moment to digest this. As much as she would have loved it if her mother had been able to stay in London on a permanent basis, this was certainly a lot better than what she’d considered inevitable all week.
“-ton Athletic one, Arsenal two. Chelsea one, Liverpool nil. Everton two, Reading nil…”
“How did-” Dinky asked, but her question was answered for her by the radio.
“Fulham two, Bolton Wanderers nil. Manchester United three, Watford nil. Newcastle United nil, Blackburn Rovers nil. Portsmouth two, West Ham United nil. Tottenham Hotspur one, Manchester City one...”
I walked past Dinky’s bedroom that night after Match of the Day, smiling as I looked in to see the two of them cuddled up and evidently sleeping a lot better than they had done all week.
Either the Foal Protection Agency didn’t have a braincell between them, I thought, as I returned to my room, or their standards were so impossibly high that they’d have sacked Alex Ferguson had they been in charge of Man Utd. Still, the least that the two ponies deserved was a happy Christmas.
Tuesday 26th December
Chelsea (4th) vs Reading (9th)
“I don’t see why Fontana is still in the starting lineup,” I said, as the teams came out for the second half. “We should play Drogba as a lone striker and stick that £16,000,000 lamp-post in the reserves until someone - Bayern, Barnsley, I don’t care who - comes in for him.”
“Lamp-post?” Derpy asked quizzically.
“Yes,” I replied. “Although on second thoughts, at least a lamp-post is actually useful.”
The score stood at 1-1 as the second half started. Fontana had been listless throughout the first half, and ten minutes from the break, Leroy Lita had beaten the offside trap to head the ball past Cech and give Reading the lead. Chelsea had come back, however, and six minutes later Lampard had run onto a pass from Essien before sending the ball past Hahnemann.
Six minutes into the second half, however, Mourinho had come to the same conclusion as the home support, and once again Fontana was taken off, with Salomon Kalou replacing him. Fontana went off to a chorus of boos and chants of “you’re not fit to wear the shirt”.
Two minutes afterwards, Drogba played Kalou in. Kalou raced into the area and got a shot off, which went just wide of the goal.
“See? Much better.” I said, as the team suddenly seemed to pick up.
In the 63rd minute, John Obi Mikel, on as a substitute for the booked Essien, took off down the left flank before crossing into the area. This time Kalou did not miss, firing the ball under Hahnemann to give Chelsea the lead.
Chelsea had begun to impose themselves on Reading and five minutes later, it was Wright-Phillips who looked to turn provider, his cross being volleyed just wide by Kalou.
Reading still had some fight in them, however, and with just under 20 minutes to go, a defensive mix-up saw Lita let in, his shot being saved by Cech.
With just over ten minutes left, Drogba ran into the area and played a lofted ball to Wright-Phillips, whose shot was saved by Hahnemann. The Reading keeper, however, couldn’t hold it, and Drogba pounced on the rebound to put the result beyond doubt before sliding on his knees to the corner flag. That was his last contribution, as he was then replaced by Boulahrouz to secure the defence.
There was still time for Kalou to fire a shot just wide, but Chelsea took another three vital points.
Although Bolton had beaten Charlton 2-0, Chelsea still held a 5-point lead over them. Liverpool, however, had also won, 2-0 at West Ham, keeping Chelsea in 4th.
Premier League Table
1 Man Utd 47pts 2 Arsenal 43pts 3 Liverpool 39pts 4 Chelsea 39pts 5 Bolton 34pts 6 Tottenham 33pts … 16 Middlesbrough 21pts 17 Sheffield Utd 20pts 18 West Ham 18pts 19 Charlton 13pts 20 Watford 11pts
As the pundits on Match of the Day that night discussed Fontana’s interest in playing for a club abroad, the rumour that there were eyes all over Europe on Fontana, and that John Terry, who had missed the game through suspension, was fed up of the whole saga, my mind turned to the following day. Derpy was being picked up at 2 o’clock in the afternoon and taken directly back rather than via the embassy so as to avoid Belladonna finding out; all I knew about the pony escorting her was that it was “somepony I could trust”.
It was a sad fact that all good things had to come to an end. Two o’clock was imminent, and Derpy was making the most of the last few moments she could spend with Dinky before having to return to Ponyville.
The doorbell rang and I went up to answer it, taking as long as possible, while the two ponies hugged each other as tightly as they could. And then…
“Lyra? It’s really you? It’s been so long!”
“Wait, you know each other?” Dinky asked, five minutes later. The teal unicorn had accepted my offer of a cup of tea, claiming that she could easily allow another half hour.
“I was an exchange student in London for a term in secondary school around nine years ago,” Lyra explained. “He was part of my host family.”
“Yes,” I confirmed. “I just didn’t expect-”
“I’m sorry I didn’t explain,” Lyra continued, “But when Belladonna ordered that Dinky be relocated to London, I had to act quickly, and I knew that I could trust you. It would probably have been better if I’d shown up as opposed to Autumn.”
“But why London?” I asked.
“Because if she sees someone she can kick - proverbially, anyway - she’ll do so.” Lyra sighed, helping herself to another biscuit.
“That would explain the ultimatum she issued last Monday then,” I said, remembering Dinky's damp face and puffy red eyes as she'd entered my room every night that week - it had been just like the first couple of weeks after her arrival.
“Anyway,” I asked, as the two other ponies made the most of their extended time together, “Why haven’t I received anything regarding visitation rights? I’d be perfectly happy to allow it.”
“Autumn says she’s having trouble getting the form to the visitation office,” Lyra replied, “Then after getting it back she’d have to send it here for you to sign and return, then she’d have to move onto the next step.”
“Of course…” I muttered under my breath.
Half past two arrived all too soon, and both parties exchanged their goodbyes.
“I wish you didn’t have to go back,” Dinky sniffed, trying very hard not to tear up as the two of them shared one last hug.
“So do I, Muffin,” Derpy sighed, “But Rainbow Dash needs her season ticket back, Ponyville needs me to deliver their post, and if I stay here there’s a very real risk that Lyra will lose her job.”
We waved as the two ponies walked down the corridor until they got into the lift.
"Thank you so much for arranging that," Dinky said, as the two of us sat down on the sofa to watch National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation on Sky Cinema, "Especially after how the preceding week went-"
She spread out her forelegs to indicate a hug. I obliged, and she nuzzled my cheek whilst repeating her thanks.
Saturday 30th December
Fulham (12th) vs Chelsea (4th)
Although Dinky had been sad to see Derpy leave, I couldn’t help but notice that she was much happier for having been able to see her mother again. As the two of us prepared for the West London Derby away to Fulham, news came through which we both found most welcome.
“We are getting breaking news that Armando Fontana has refused to play in this evening’s match at Fulham,” the Sky Sports News anchor said. “The Spaniard is reported to have gone AWOL this morning and…”
“Good riddance,” I said.
“Wait, he’s really going to leave the club?” Dinky asked.
“If you’re a footballer, you don’t refuse to play,” I explained. “Especially not for someone like Mourinho. The transfer window opens in two days and he’ll be out of the club before you can say ‘Stamford Bridge’.”
Indeed, the mood on the double-decker bus was fairly buoyant, and as the match at Craven Cottage started, it became clear that Chelsea's spirits were lifted too.
It took until the eleventh minute for this to bear fruit. Chelsea had dominated from the off and it came as no surprise when Drogba connected with a pass from Essien, charged through the Fulham defence, and powered a shot past Niemi to give Chelsea the lead.
It seemed as though Chelsea would increase their lead, but a rare Fulham attack in the 24th minute saw a cross headed clear. The clearance, however, was intercepted by Fulham right-back Liam Rosenior, who trapped the ball before sending a blistering shot into the net beyond the outstretched arm of Cech from 25 yards out. It was a spectacular effort, which would win Goal of the Month for December, but it didn’t seem to faze Chelsea, who redoubled their efforts, with Niemi twice pulling off heroics to keep out Lampard and Robben, and Drogba having a header cleared off the line.
Then, just before half time, a break from Fulham resulted in a corner, from which Carlos Bocanegra managed to scramble the ball over the line to give them the lead against the run of play.
It was clear, however, that Fulham had been extremely fortunate to be in front, and three minutes into the second half, a cross from Robben found Drogba, who powered a header past Niemi to restore parity.
“Well, only five minutes of the second half have played so far,” Kick Off said a couple of minutes later, “but Chelsea have been a massively improved side from what we’ve seen for much of December.”
“Indeed,” Full Time agreed, as Mourinho brought Joe Cole on for Paulo Ferreira in a bid to push forward, “And it has to be down to today’s news, it’s almost certain now that Fontana will be leaving the club, and that’s been a massive lift.”
In the 58th minute, a Fulham throw-in was intercepted, and Drogba played a short pass to Kalou. Kalou ran through the Fulham half and, from 25 yards out, hit a low shot which settled in the net off Niemi’s left hand post.
Fulham’s heads seemed to drop at this, and four minutes later Drogba won possession and went for goal, only to be denied his hat-trick as the shot went wide.
With just over fifteen minutes left, it seemed that another Chelsea attack had been stopped when Kalou was fouled by Bocanegra. The referee, however, played advantage, and Drogba passed the ball into the area for Lampard, who fired a right-footed shot across Niemi into the opposite corner of the net to surely put the result beyond doubt.
There was still time for Joe Cole to send two efforts wide, but Fulham were unable to muster up any threat and Chelsea came away with bragging rights – and all three points.
“Well, a good win against a local rival, Arsenal and Bolton both being held, and Fontana’s departure all but confirmed,” I said on the bus back from the ground. “An almost perfect day, football-wise.”
“What would have made it perfect?” Dinky asked.
“United not winning.” I replied.
Premier League Table
1 Man Utd 50pts 2 Arsenal 44pts 3 Liverpool 42pts 4 Chelsea 42pts 5 Tottenham 36pts 6 Bolton 35pts … 16 Wigan 22pts 17 Middlesbrough 21pts 18 West Ham 18pts 19 Charlton 16pts 20 Watford 11pts
“You know,” I said the following morning, as Dinky once again cuddled up to me on my bed, “I think I’ll write to the British Embassy next October and sort out something with a lot more substance for next Christmas. From what I’ve been told about the British Ambassador to Equestria, he’d run rings around Belladonna without breaking a sweat. Anyway,” I continued, switching on the radio on my bedside table, “Let’s see what the morning’s football news has to say.”
“...and in a statement this morning, Bruce Buck has announced that he has given Mourinho permission to sell Fontana. Although clubs from all over Europe are after the forward, Fontana has requested that he be sold to a Premier League side…”
“That makes sense,” I said, “He's played for us in the Champions League, so he won't be able to play in Europe with another club this season.”
“Meanwhile, news from La Liga this morning is that Eidur Gudjohnsen has handed in a transfer request at Barcelona,” the radio announcer continued, “The former Chelsea forward has claimed to have been underutilised, and has not featured in the Champions League this season…”
The transfer window opened a couple of days later, and Fontana duly left for Everton. Eidur Gudjohnsen arrived from Barcelona in short order, returning to the club where he'd spent six successful seasons.
After a tumultuous December, it was almost a relief for January to arrive and with it, the final part of the treble agreement to start in the form of the FA Cup - the oldest cup competition in football, dating back 135 years.
However, the FA Cup had a history of “giant killings”, where a team from the lower divisions could knock out a side such as Manchester United. Indeed, Manchester United had been held to 0-0 draws by lower league opposition in the past two seasons; Burton Albion last year, and Exeter City the year before that.
Chelsea’s campaign to lift the FA Cup, which they had not won since 2000, the last time the final had been played at the old Wembley Stadium before it was rebuilt, would begin in the 5:30 kick off at Vicarage Road, against a Watford side who sat bottom of the Premier League. In the cup, however, that meant nothing.
“One of the biggest days in the football calendar, it’s FA Cup Third Round Day,” Kick Off announced, “And it’s an all-Premier League tie this evening between Watford and Chelsea here at Vicarage Road…”
“I reckon we’ve got this,” Rainbow Dash said in the Traveller’s Rest.
“...and of course, the return to Chelsea of Eidur Gudjohnsen after the controversial departure of Fontana; the Icelandic striker leads the line with Kalou for Chelsea today.”
“Incidentally, we played here in the third round three years ago,” I said, as the two of us sat down in the away end. “We drew 2-2 and won the replay 4-0.”
That day, Watford had scored after five minutes, but it was Chelsea who attacked first in the seventh minute. A pass from Lampard found Kalou, who got into the area before seeing his shot cannon back off the post.
Midway through the first half, Mikel played in Wright-Phillips, who played in Gudjohnsen. Gudjohnsen had a shot, which was saved by Foster.
Watford’s first real attack came six minutes later, as Chambers’ cross was headed out by Ashley Cole. Mahon got to it, but sent his shot wide.
Just after the half hour, Kovac passed to Mikel, who played in Robben. Robben found Gudjohnsen, who looked for Kalou. Kaou played in Wright-Phillips, whose shot went in despite Foster getting a hand to the ball.
In the 37th minute, Smith took the ball down the right and crossed it into the area. Henderson trapped the ball, only to send his shot over.
Four minutes from half time, Wright-Phillips sent a cross in from the right to Robben. Robben saw his shot strike the post, but he was first to the rebound and looked to play in Gudjohnsen, who was crowded out.
Watford looked to draw level in the later stages of the first half, as a cross by Chambers was headed clear by Kovac before Henderson sent a shot straight at Cudicini. However, it was Chelsea who nearly had the final say on the half, Kovac seeing a header hit the crossbar from a corner.
Chelsea continued to dominate as the second half began. Eight minutes in, a cross from Kalou was caught by Foster, before Lampard found Kalou, who sent the shot wide.
Just after the hour mark, a header by Kovac found Gudjohnsen, who played a one-two with Kalou before setting off into the area. As he looked certain to shoot, however, he was brought down by Jay Demerit. Although the away end called for a sending off, the referee kept his cards in his pocket. Nonetheless, Lampard fired the penalty into the top corner, sending Foster the wrong way.
That should have been that, but four minutes later, a poor pass from Kovac was intercepted by Chambers, who passed to Kabba. Kabba got past Kovac and cut inside, before sending a shot into the net from a near-impossibly tight angle, despite Cudicini getting a hand to it, to set up a potentially nervy last 25 minutes.
“Not again,” Rainbow Dash groaned, as Kick Off announced “now we have a cup-tie on our hooves!”
However, Chelsea’s response was to bring Boulahrouz on and look to batten down the hatches. Watford found themselves unable to get past Mikel in the Chelsea midfield, or the Chelsea back line.
Indeed, it was the visitors who looked more likely to score in the closing stages. With two minutes left, Danny Doyle was brought down by the unfortunately-named Danny Shittu, who received a yellow card for the challenge. Lampard looked to go for goal from the free kick, but was too far out. Then, in the first minute of added time, Robben sent a shot wide.
Watford 1-2 Chelsea (Kabba 65; Wright-Phillips 31, Lampard pen 61)
“Well, it was closer than they would have liked,” Kick Off said, “But Chelsea make it into the next round of the FA Cup. Watford, meanwhile, now only have the fight against relegation to focus on…”
“Well, it was closer than I would have liked,” I said, as our train pulled out of Watford Junction, “But we won, and that’s all that matters in this competition.”
Monday 15th January
“I still don’t know how Chelsea lost on Saturday,” Lyra said, as she and Autumn waited for the kettle in the staff kitchen to boil, “They had, what, seven shots on target? And yet Blackburn had one and it was the only goal of the game.”
“Well, that’s football,” Autumn replied. “How did Friday go, by the way?”
“A lot better than before Christmas,” Lyra replied. “I’d say going to the game on Boxing Day did Ms Hooves the world of good-”
“I’m amazed the three of you managed to pull it off without certain others finding out.”
“I have friends where she spent Christmas,” Lyra replied. “When she found out she couldn’t bring the hammer down, she didn’t look at anything related to football for a week. Imagine if Chelsea actually do win the treble-”
“Not going to happen,” Autumn responded. “They’re too far behind United and I’m still backing Barcelona for the Champions League. At any rate-”
“Yes, you’ve already said so numerous times,” Lyra interjected. “It’s unnecessarily cruel, done solely to provide false hope, and the proper thing to do would be to arrange for visitation to start as soon as possible.”
“At any rate,” Autumn continued, ignoring Lyra’s jibe, “the information that I was given in May gave me no other option.”
Premier League Table
1 Man Utd 51pts 2 Arsenal 47pts 3 Liverpool 43pts 4 Chelsea 42pts 5 Tottenham 37pts 6 Bolton 35pts … 16 Sheffield Utd 23pts 17 Wigan 22pts 18 West Ham 18pts 19 Charlton 16pts 20 Watford 12pts
Aston Villa away was not exactly an ideal fixture off the back of a defeat, as Chelsea had not won at Villa Park since 1999. Still, as I told Dinky that morning, things were looking up. Even Mark Hughes had admitted that Chelsea “should have won by three or four” after the game at Ewood Park, and Villa sat thirteenth in the league after their bright start to the season had turned drab since September.
The supporters’ charter train departed Euston at 12:40pm, and as the match was an evening kick off, all the other games would be played first.
“Get in there!” Sweetie Belle shouted excitedly, while a nearby pony from the embassy allowed himself a smile.
It was the closing stages of the Merseyside Derby at Goodison Park, and a hard-fought match seemed to have been won. As the clock ticked around to the 87th minute, a long ball found Mikel Arteta, who had outmuscled Daniel Agger before slotting the ball past Reina to open the scoring. And for Sweetie Belle, who had been given a hospitality ticket courtesy of the Equestrian embassy, it was becoming the best match she'd been to.
Six minutes later, the referee blew the final whistle, giving Everton a 1-0 win against their bitter rivals.
“Make the most of that, Dinky.” Sweetie Belle thought, as she was escorted back to the portal.
“Well, Chelsea are virtually unrecognisable from what they were not that long ago,” Kick Off said, as Lampard moved across to take a corner 35 minutes into the match. “They're leading 1-0, they’re playing well, and they’re playing together.”
“Indeed, Kick Off,” Full Time added, “December seems a million miles away now, as do all the troubles they endured in the run-up to Christmas.”
Chelsea had controlled the game pretty much from the beginning, and in the sixteenth minute, Robben, Drogba and Gudjohnsen had combined for Gudjohnsen to score an easy tap-in.
Chelsea now looked to increase their lead, and the corner found John Terry, who volleyed the ball wide.
On the stroke of half time, a long ball from Makelele found Gudjohnsen, who passed to Drogba. Drogba let fly from an angle, his shot being tipped wide by Gabor Kiraly in the Villa goal.
The corner was cleared, but Essien intercepted the ball and played a long pass to Gudjohnsen. This time, the Icelander looked to shoot, but his shot was saved by Kiraly, who held onto the ball.
“Well, this is more like it,” I said, as I produced the half time muffins. “This is the side from the last two seasons; we’re finally playing like champions.”
“And with Liverpool losing earlier-” Dinky added.
“Exactly.”
Chelsea looked to dominate the second half as well, and five minutes in a long ball from Makelele found Robben, who took the ball down the right flank. He then looked to send in a cross, but the ball was deflected into the grateful hands of Kiraly. Then, in the 52nd minute, Drogba intercepted the ball and passed to Robben, whose shot was tipped over by Kiraly.
However, Aston Villa then launched a rare attack, which was deflected behind for a corner. The corner was deflected behind off Michael Essien for another corner, which came to nothing.
With 25 minutes remaining, Chelsea won a corner, which was cleared. The ball was cleared back in for Drogba, who sent the shot wide.
“I don’t like this,” Rainbow Dash complained in the Traveller’s Rest as the second half wore on, “So many times this season, our failure to convert chances has cost us. We nearly lost to Blackburn back in August, we did lose at Blackburn last week despite having seven shots on target to their one, and the longer that this stays 1-0, then the bolder Villa will become.”
Twilight wanted to give her a withering look, but she knew that Rainbow Dash was technically right; the game against Watford in the FA Cup had been nervy in the last 25 minutes, and although Chelsea continued to control the match, there was still just the one goal in it as Doyle came on to replace Gudjohnsen for the last ten minutes.
Then, with four minutes to go, Essien played the ball to Robben, who raced down the right flank. He cut inside between Ridgewell and Bouma before firing the ball past Kiraly at the near post to double Chelsea’s lead.
“Finally,” Rainbow Dash said, as the Chelsea players, fans, and Derpy all celebrated. “Took them long enough, but that’s surely the three points in the bag now.”
It wasn’t, however, the last goal of the game. In the first minute of stoppage time, Geremi passed to Essien, who once again played in Robben on the right. Robben took the ball into the area and fired the ball across Kiraly to put the icing on the proverbial cake.
Aston Villa 0-3 Chelsea (Gudjohnsen 16, Robben 86, 90+1)
“Funnily enough, that was the scoreline the last time we won here,” I said, as Mourinho shook hands with Martin O’Neill and the players left the pitch, before we set off for the station.
“...Chelsea’s first win at Villa Park in eight years,” Kick Off said, “And it’s a huge boost to their morale. They can’t ask for more than that, and to make things even better, they move up to third in the league thanks to Liverpool’s defeat in the Merseyside Derby at Goodison Park earlier today…”
Premier League Table
1 Man Utd 54pts 2 Arsenal 50pts 3 Chelsea 45pts 4 Liverpool 43pts 5 Tottenham 40pts 6 Bolton 38pts … 16 Sheffield Utd 24pts 17 Wigan 22pts 18 West Ham 19pts 19 Charlton 16pts 20 Watford 12pts
Monday 22nd January
“I’m pretty sure that the Ancient Greeks had some sort of story analogous to this,” Autumn muttered to herself, as for the third time she filled in a form recommending that Derpy be granted visitation rights. “Let me think...Lyra?”
“Yes?” Lyra replied, as she entered Autumn’s office.
“Who was that guy in Ancient Greek mythology who got sent to Tartarus and had to perform a task that couldn’t be completed?”
“Sisyphus. He had to roll a huge boulder up a hill and it rolled back down whenever he got near the top.”
“I know how that feels,” Autumn thought, as she placed it in a hardback envelope, stamped “URGENT” on it, and took it to the internal post trolley. She placed it in the trolley...and noticed another pony watching her.
“Can I help you, Belladonna?” she asked pointedly.
“What? Er, no, no, I’m fine. I was just-just going to make a cup of coffee.” Belladonna replied.
“Well, I won’t stop you,” Autumn icily responded, making a mental note to postpone her next cup of tea by about ten minutes. She hadn’t, however, failed to notice the brief look of panic on Belladonna’s face.
“I wonder what she might be hiding…” she muttered, as she went back to her office.
“I'm telling you, she's up to something,” Autumn said, as she and Lyra had a drink in The Two Princesses after work on Friday.
“In what way?” Lyra asked.
“I'm almost certain that she was spying on me when I posted the form on Monday, she seemed very alarmed when I noticed her. She's always been the nosy type.”
“Yes, but for something like this, you need solid proof,” Lyra said, “After all, you can't rush in based on hearsay, especially not in our field of work.”
There was something about Lyra's words which made them echo around Autumn's head as she went home that night.
Saturday 27th January
As January drew to a close, a cold snap fell over Britain. Of course, it was usually cold in January, but the temperature dropped into minus figures even south of London. However, Dinky wasn't fazed, telling me that Equestria saw snow from December to February before the ponies cleaned it all up. I idly wondered how much the various train companies would pay for them to come over and clear the rail network, as the BBC News showed footage of it grinding to a halt in the north.
Fortunately, the draw for the fourth round of the FA Cup had been kind to Chelsea...geography-wise, at least. They would be playing at Fratton Park, where a missed penalty and a late equaliser had saved them from defeat back in September.
Portsmouth, however, would be up for it, and the weather didn’t make things any easier. Snow had started to fall as the train crossed the South Downs, and it was still swirling around as we took our seats and braced ourselves for the inevitable handbell from the other end of the stadium.
“I’ve never seen that before,” Dinky said, as the teams emerged with the referee carrying an orange ball.
“It’s due to the weather,” I replied, “I saw something similar a couple of seasons back.” I omitted to mention that Chelsea had been beaten 1-0 at Newcastle and subsequently knocked out of the FA Cup on that occasion.
Portsmouth, evidently stung by being denied two points back in September, started quickly, and it took only three minutes for former Arsenal midfielder Lauren to go steaming into the area and connect with Taylor’s pass to slide the ball past Cech.
Chelsea responded, and in the 20th minute, a lengthy spell of pressure paid off as Lampard’s ball through the middle was latched onto Gudjohnsen, whose shot beat David James to level the scores.
Four minutes from the break, Lampard himself got on the scoresheet. A long ball out of defence saw Makelele play in Wright-Phillips, who got down the right before sending a cross into the area. Drogba headed the ball back for Lampard, whose low shot fizzed into the bottom corner of the net.
That should have seen Chelsea through to half time, but, a minute from the break, Portsmouth were able to catch them cold. A long ball allowed Pedro Mendes to beat the offside trap before lifting the ball over the onrushing Cech to bring the hosts level.
It was certainly thrilling stuff for the neutral, but we weren't watching as neutrals. Portsmouth were showing exactly why they'd been fourth in the league as far into the season as October, and the second half developed into a scrappy midfield battle, with neither side willing to give an inch as the snow continued to swirl around. Then came the final ten minutes.
A quick break by Kranjcar down the left saw the Croatian send a cross into the area, where Djimi Traore was able to get a shot past Cech to give Portsmouth the lead with nine minutes to go. Dinky's head drooped, while down on the touchline, Mourinho brought on Joe Cole and Michael Ballack, the latter of which was making his first appearance after three months out with an ankle injury.
It took just five minutes for Chelsea to respond. Joe Cole took the ball down the right and passed to Ballack. Ballack played a pass to Drogba which split the Portsmouth defence wide open, and Drogba had no trouble slotting the ball past David James to bring the scores level for a third time.
The match was rapidly becoming the tie of the round, and as the last five minutes progressed, nobody wanted to try and second-guess the result. But the pendulum had one last swing in it.
As the final whistle loomed, Joe Cole once again marauded down the right, only to be pulled back by Lauren. From the free kick, Lampard crossed the ball into the area, and Drogba rose highest to head the ball down into the corner of the net with David James stranded.
The pendulum had made its last swing, and it had swung to the away side.
Portsmouth 3-4 Chelsea (Lauren 3, Pedro Mendes 44, Traore 81; Gudjohnsen 20, Lampard 41, Drogba 86, 90)
“I don’t know about you,” I said, as the two of us headed back towards Fratton station, “But I’d prefer something a little more straightforward in the next round.”
Dinky nodded breathlessly. In fact, the majority of the supporters heading back to the station were breathless, having experienced an entire season’s worth of emotion in the space of 90 minutes.
Wednesday 31st January
“That goal would never have been given at Old Trafford,” Rainbow Dash complained, as the three of us left Stamford Bridge, Dinky looking sadly up at the stars.
A home game against bottom of the table Watford should have been three easy points. Chelsea had dominated from the beginning, and Eidur Gudjohnsen had seen his shot cannon back off the post in the eighteenth minute.
However, despite Chelsea’s dominance, it had been the visitors who had struck first. A long ball from a corner found Marlon King, who had sent the ball past Cech to give Watford a shock lead. King had, in fact, been offside by a considerable margin, but the goal had been given.
Chelsea had come back in the second half, and ten minutes after half time Drogba had scored with a powerful effort. Yet, despite dominating the remainder of the match, hitting the woodwork twice and seeing a shot cleared off the line, Chelsea had been unable to get the second goal and the match had ended 1-1.
Results elsewhere had been no less frustrating, as Arsenal had been held to a 0-0 draw at home to Newcastle and Manchester United had picked up another three points.
Premier League Table
1 Man Utd 57pts 2 Arsenal 51pts 3 Chelsea 46pts 4 Liverpool 46pts 5 Bolton 41pts 6 Tottenham 40pts … 16 Sheffield Utd 24pts 17 Wigan 22pts 18 West Ham 20pts 19 Charlton 19pts 20 Watford 13pts
Autumn watched the news that night, as Headline covered the Premier League round-up.
“I’m sorry, Ms Hooves,” she thought, “But eleven points? I just can’t see it happening.”
For some reason, Lyra’s comment about rushing in based on hearsay seemed to keep echoing around her head.
“Eleven points is still doable,” I said, as I put Dinky to bed that night. “We go on a winning run – and normally, we would have won tonight – United have a bad run...we’re still yet to face them at home. And bigger margins have been overhauled at the top in the past.”
Dinky half yawned, half groaned as the sound of BBC Radio 1 woke her from her sleep. For a couple of seconds, she stared at the wall, which she knew was on the side of the room facing Hyde Park, along with the framed photo on her bedside table that had been a parting gift from her mother. She rolled onto her back, stretched out, and then noticed something that she hadn’t noticed last night. Alongside a printed and framed copy of the poem she’d been sent back in June was another framed text.
“I...will...find...a way...or...make...one,” Dinky read out, squinting at it. “Hannibal...Barca.”
Sleepily wondering what Barcelona had to do with it, she grabbed a towel and made for the bathroom while Chris Moyles sounded from her radio alarm.
Saturday 3rd February
As the two of us shared a morning hug, Dinky couldn't help but feel nervous. The fixture list on my bedroom wall stated that today's match was away to Arsenal, who were yet to lose at home all season.
On the other hand, or indeed hoof, Chelsea had been something else since Fontana had left and had dominated every league match in January. In addition, Dinky thought, remembering the game just before her birthday, Manchester United had been unbeaten before Chelsea had faced them.
The match would be the early kick off, and was being discussed on the radio as the two of us had breakfast.
“It might be cold outside, but things could not be hotter here at The Emirates,” Kick Off said. “Arsenal host Chelsea with both sides hoping to gain ground on United, and Ashley Cole returns to Arsenal after his controversial departure in the summer…”
The two of us emerged from Finsbury Park tube station, which was a stone's throw from the stadium. I'd even pointed it out to Dinky on the way back from Scotland back in August.
“The importance of this game could not be underestimated,” Kick Off announced, as the two teams emerged from the tunnel onto the pitch to Fatboy Slim's Right Here, Right Now, “Chelsea's form has just been getting better and better as of late, and this gives them a real chance to put pressure on the top two.”
“Did I ever tell you about the night we knocked them out of the Champions League in their own backyard?” Rainbow Dash asked in the Traveller's Rest.
Many had predicted a close game, but as early as the fourth minute, Arjen Robben intercepted the ball and broke down the right. He sent a cross to the far post for Drogba, who hit the side netting after his initial shot was saved by Lehmann from point blank range. Then, ten minutes in, Ferreira beat Hleb in the air and headed the ball to Makelele. Makelele played a volleyed pass to Robben, who played a first time pass to Drogba. Drogba ran at the defence before passing to Gudjohnsen, who got into the area before firing a shot past Lehmann into the opposite corner of the net.
“Brilliant build-up play by Chelsea there!” shouted Kick Off. “They moved the ball like lightning, and turned defence into attack with no trouble!”
Chelsea, of course, wanted it to be the first of many, and five minutes later Gudjohnsen sent in a cross, which was cleared. In the twentieth minute, Makelele played a long ball to Drogba, who beat the offside trap before shooting well wide.
It took over 20 minutes for Arsenal to get forward. Gilberto Silva got past Essien and passed to William Gallas. Gallas looked to find Adebayor in the area, but his cross was headed clear by Ashley Cole.
Chelsea then counter-attacked, and Essien’s pass found Robben, who passed to Makelele. Makelele fed Lampard, who took the ball to the edge of the area and let fly from 20 yards. His shot struck the post, and Robben sent the rebound wide with the frame of the goal still shaking. Arsenal, meanwhile, just couldn’t get forward, as Hleb was tackled by Ferreira before he could set an attack up. Chelsea kept coming forward, and both Robben and Drogba sent shots wide as the half hour mark passed.
With just under ten minutes to go until half time, an interception by Paulo Ferreira set Lampard up in the middle. Lampard played the ball in out wide to Gudjohnsen, who drilled a low cross into the area. Drogba beat Senderos into the area, chested the ball down, and sent it into the roof of the net.
“I can’t see Arsenal coming back from this,” I said, after the away fans had finished celebrating. “They look completely devoid of ideas, and there’s still the whole second half to play.”
Indeed, Chelsea looked more likely to score a third, and Gudjohnsen struck the post three minutes from half time before he saw a cross caught by Lehmann three minutes into the second half.
Realising before half time that they had little chance of getting back into the match, a large number of home supporters had taken to booing and jeering Ashley Cole over his decision to join Chelsea. Cole nearly threw their taunts back in their faces in the 53rd minute, capitalising on an Arsenal defensive error before sending a shot into the side netting.
However, two minutes later, the third goal did come. A foul on Arjen Robben saw Chelsea awarded a free kick, and although it was nearly 30 yards from goal, Lampard fired the ball into the net, Lehmann reacting far too late.
“Well, this is turning into a rout,” Kick Off said, as Lampard was mobbed by his teammates, “Still 35 minutes to go, and Chelsea are showing all the force of a runaway juggernaut.”
“And to think United and Liverpool both lost here,” Rainbow Dash said, as the free kick was replayed.
Chelsea took their foot off the pedal after this, with Mikel and Joe Cole replacing Essien and Robben. But it wasn’t until the last fifteen minutes when Arsenal got near the Chelsea goal. Ferreira fouled Hleb, and Henry saw his free kick caught by Cech.
Indeed, Drogba fired wide twice in the last five minutes, as Chelsea looked to increase their lead even further.
Arsenal 0-3 Chelsea (Gudjohnsen 10, Drogba 36, Lampard 55)
“That was as good as Chelsea could possibly have hoped for,” Kick Off said, as Wenger shook hands with a very smug-looking Mourinho, “An excellent performance from Chelsea, and an excellent result to match. They end Arsenal’s unbeaten home record in emphatic style, they temporarily close the gap on Manchester United, they close the gap on Arsenal to two points, and it’s a clear statement of intent…”
“Well, that’s our end of the bargain held up,” I said, as we left the ground. “Now, how does a hot chocolate sound? With cream and marshmallows, of course.”
Unfortunately, United responded with a 3-1 win over Tottenham at Old Trafford the following day, a result which actually saw Tottenham fall out of the top six thanks to Portsmouth’s win over Sheffield United. Liverpool, meanwhile, were held by Bolton.
Premier League Table
1 Man Utd 60pts 2 Arsenal 51pts 3 Chelsea 49pts 4 Liverpool 47pts 5 Bolton 42pts 6 Portsmouth 41pts … 16 Sheffield Utd 24pts 17 Wigan 22pts 18 West Ham 20pts 19 Charlton 20pts 20 Watford 16pts
“...Mourinho has said that he expects a tough test from Manchester City tonight,” Breaking News said on the radio. “Stuart Pearce, meanwhile, has said that City are fully confident of bursting the Chelsea bubble, citing their win at Stamford Bridge in December...”
“That’s tough talk from someone whose side hasn’t picked up a win since December.” Autumn muttered to herself, as she switched the radio off and went home for the night.
“United are going to drop points before the end of the season, but it isn’t going to be tonight,” I said, as the supporters’ charter train arrived at Manchester Piccadilly. “I can’t see Charlton getting anything at Old Trafford.”
“...So we move onto the next fixture tonight, that is the one between Manchester City and Chelsea at the City of Manchester Stadium,” Big Match said, on Goalflash Tonight. “So, you two say?”
“Chelsea to win,” Kick Off said, “They’ve travelled in good shape, good form, good spirits, I can’t see anything other than an away win.”
“It might be tough,” Full Time added, “But City are on the fringes of the relegation battle, so I expect Chelsea to come away with the three points.”
Of course, after the Arsenal game, Chelsea were in fine fettle, and five minutes in, a ball out of defence found Lampard, who passed to Gudjohnsen. Gudjohnsen played the ball to Drogba on the edge of the area, and Drogba let fly. His shot struck the post, and Isaksson was able to recover to tip the shot wide as he pounced on the rebound. From the resulting corner, he sent the ball wide.
In the fourteenth minute, Lampard played the ball to Ashley Cole, who played a long ball to Gudjohnsen. Gudjohnsen played a one-two with Drogba, running into the area before sending a shot across Isaksson into the opposite corner of the net.
“And it's one-nil to Chelsea,” Kick Off said, as he noticed the latest news come in, “And it’s Gudjohnsen again; it’s like he never left.”
With Gudjohnsen evidently looking to make up for the time lost in those six months at Barcelona, he and Drogba were tormenting the Manchester City defence, and he nearly doubled his tally with 20 minutes gone, sending a shot wide after receiving the ball from Drogba.
Another opportunity presented itself just after the half hour mark. Ballack and Lampard combined to play Gudjohnsen in, and the shot was deflected behind for a corner.
Although the corner itself was cleared, Makelele intercepted the clearance and headed the ball to Ferreira, who passed to Essien. Essien took off down the right, getting level with the area, before sending a cross in. Gudjohnsen got to the ball before Micah Richards, sending a volley into the top corner with Isaksson stranded.
Chelsea looked to control the game from there on out, but on the stroke of half time, a pass from Ferreira was intercepted by Darius Vassell. Vassell, however, sent a weak shot straight at Cech, who had no problem gathering it.
Leading 2-0 at half time was certainly welcome. Less welcome, however, was the news that, across Manchester, United held a 3-0 lead against Charlton Athletic.
Chelsea started the second half as they’d finished the first, but it was a massive goalkeeping howler that led to the next goal. Lampard’s corner seemed to be too close to Isaksson, but the Swede failed to communicate properly with Richard Dunne and Kovac stole in to volley the ball home for his first Chelsea goal.
At this point, the game was as good as over as a contest, and seven minutes later, Gudjohnsen ran onto a pass from Ballack only to see his shot flash wide of the post.
However, just after the hour mark, the mood took on a sour turn. Petr Cech took a goal kick, but went down clutching his thigh.
“That’s not good,” I muttered, as the physio ran on. Although Cudicini was a perfectly capable goalkeeper, winning the treble would be a lot more difficult than it already was if Cech was injured for the remainder of the season. Indeed, the physio signalled to the bench, and Cudicini came onto the field as Cech limped off.
If the injury had affected Chelsea, they didn’t show it. With just under twenty minutes to go, Gudjohnsen looked to turn provider and played in Drogba. Drogba let fly from long range, but Isaksson was able to tip the ball against the crossbar before it was hacked clear.
A fourth goal seemed inevitable, and with just under fifteen minutes left, Mikel won the ball in midfield and passed to Drogba, who ran through the City half before passing to Gudjohnsen, who ran into the area before slotting the ball past Isaksson into the bottom corner to complete the rout and his hat-trick.
The final whistle eventually sounded and Stuart Pearce shook hands with Mourinho before storming down the tunnel. I suspected that this time, nobody would want to be in the vicinity of “Psycho” screaming. Chelsea, meanwhile, were currently on their best run all season.
Manchester City 0-4 Chelsea (Gudjohnsen 14, 33, 77, Kovac 50)
“United?” Dinky asked.
“Oh, they won.” I replied.
“Obviously,” she said, “But how much?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“That bad?”
“Six-nil.”
Premier League Table
1 Man Utd 63pts 2 Arsenal 54pts 3 Chelsea 52pts 4 Liverpool 50pts 5 Bolton 45pts 6 Portsmouth 42pts … 16 Sheffield Utd 27pts 17 Wigan 25pts 18 West Ham 20pts 19 Charlton 20pts 20 Watford 16pts
Wednesday 7th February
There was something about Belladonna's smirk that morning that Autumn didn't like. Well, more so than usual; she didn't like Belladonna's smirk anyway.
“Well, you saw the news last night, didn't you?” Lyra said, when Autumn told her.
“I saw that United won 6-0,” Autumn replied.
“Cech got injured in the second half and had to come off,” Lyra explained, “They don't know how long he'll be out for, but he'll miss the Champions League game against Galatasaray.”
Thursday 8th February
“... and in football,” the BBC radio announcer said, as Dinky returned to her room, drying herself off from her morning shower, “Mourinho has said that Petr Cech's injury is not as bad as first feared, and is merely a pulled hamstring. The goalkeeper, however, will miss the first leg of the Champions League tie against Galatasaray. On a related note, the Galatasaray captain has said that they have scores to settle with Mourinho over his comments…”
“Like you can talk, mate.” came my voice from the kitchen. Dinky, remembering the brutal foul on Carvalho back in August which had put him out for the first half of the season, couldn't help but agree.
One of the benefits of the FA Cup draw was that it took place at lunch time on a Monday. As such, Dinky and several of her classmates at the embassy were crowded around a teacher’s radio as it picked up BBC Radio Equestria’s coverage of the draw for the fifth round.
“...and they will play Everton. Number fourteen...”
“Fulham.”
“...are at home to...number five.”
“So, Fulham are at home to Chelsea.”
“Next out...number nine.”
“Number nine is Aston Villa…”
Saturday 10th February
“I’m sensing a pattern here,” I said, as the radio on my bedside table previewed the FA Cup games. “Third round, Watford, away, 5:30 kick off. Fourth round, Portsmouth, away, 5:30 kick off. And now, fifth round, Fulham, away, 5:30 kick off.”
“Mhmm,” Dinky murmured, “It could be worse, we could be at Middlesbrough.”
“That’s true, I suppose,” I conceded, “But Fulham are definitely going to be up for this. Knocking us out of the FA Cup will make their season-”
“-and break mine.” Dinky added.
“I’m sure we’ll beat them,” I said, putting a hand on her back. “We did so back in December.”
“The second of our four live games this weekend is here at Craven Cottage,” Kick Off announced, “It’s a West London Derby in the FA Cup Fifth Round, with Fulham and Chelsea both looking to join Everton, Manchester City, Aston Villa, Middlesbrough and Plymouth Argyle in the last eight. The two sides last met in this competition in the semifinals in 2002, when Chelsea won 1-0 at Villa Park. The Blues have enjoyed something of a renaissance since the turn of the year, while Fulham are fourteenth in the league, but that counts for nothing in the cup…”
“Nice to see the other set of fans turn up for this one,” I said, as we took our seats.
Chelsea seemed to edge the opening stages, and imposed themselves as the game went on. Just after the half hour, Drogba, playing as a lone striker, got free of the back line and fired the ball past Niemi to give them the lead.
“And Fulham’s resistance is broken at last,” Kick Off said, “It’s been coming, a superbly drilled shot by Drogba, great vision there by Robben to pick him out as well. It looks like it’s business as usual.”
Fulham, however, didn’t take it lying down, and were spurred into action. Three minutes from the break, a corner was headed past Cudicini by Zat Knight, ensuring that the sides would go into half time level.
“Well, Chelsea have dominated for much of this half,” Kick Off said, during the interval, “But that equaliser just before half time has certainly shaken things up. Fulham will now believe that they can possibly stun their local rivals and pull off a shock result…”
The second half began in a much scrappier manner than the first, as Fulham looked to deny Chelsea space. Nine minutes into the half, Brian McBride passed to Davies, who sent the ball to Dempsey on the left. With Essien and Boulahrouz scrambling to get to him, Dempsey crossed the ball to Davies, who fortunately sent it well wide.
Mourinho responded by bringing Gudjohnsen and Joe Cole on for Mikel and Wright-Phillips, and this nearly paid dividends almost instantly. Robben played in Gudjohnsen, whose shot from the edge of the area was tipped over the bar by Niemi.
As the second half progressed, Chelsea continued to try and push forward. Fulham, however, were perfectly happy to sit back, hoping to potentially grab a goal on the break, and whilst Chelsea enjoyed the lion’s share of possession, Fulham packed out the defence to frustrate them.
“We’re into the last five minutes here,” Kick Off said, “And it’s Lampard, passes to Joe Cole. Cole’s cut inside, he’s got past Queudrue, goes for goal...oh! What a save by Niemi, he had to be fully alert there, and it’s a corner to Chelsea. Lampard to take it. Up goes Boulahrouz...again, superb reflex save from Niemi!”
As the ninety minutes drew to a close, Ferreira passed to Gudjohnsen, who set off on a run through the Fulham half. Gudjohnsen let loose a blistering shot from the edge of the area. However, once again, Niemi was equal to the shot, and parried it at full stretch. Rosenior got to the loose ball ahead of Drogba, and cleared it towards Dempsey. Joe Cole, however, intercepted it ahead of the American, and got down the right before looking to cross the ball to Drogba. Rosenior charged down the shot, blocking it, but the ball deflected towards Gudjohnsen, who got to it ahead of Pearce and Knight and let it bounce before sending a volley into the top corner of the net beyond the despairing dive of Niemi.
“Oh, look at that!” Kick Off exclaimed, as Gudjohnsen and Drogba celebrated, with Rainbow Dash and Derpy almost mimicking their celebration move-for-move in the Traveller’s Rest, “Fulham’s resistance is broken in stoppage time, and once again Eidur Gudjohnsen is proving why he should never have left Chelsea in the first place! Frozen out at Barcelona, the Icelander cometh once again, and he has surely won this cup tie for Chelsea, just as Drogba did at Portsmouth in round four!”
Fulham 1-2 Chelsea (Knight 42; Drogba 32, Gudjohnsen 90+1)
“And there it is,” Kick Off said, as the final whistle sounded and Chris Coleman dejectedly shook hands with a sympathetic Mourinho, “Chelsea march into the quarter finals of the FA Cup. There is just over a week to go to the knockout stages of the Champions League, and they continue to fight on all fronts.”
“Indeed,” Full Time added, “It looks like they’re firing on all cylinders at just the right time, too. Chasing the FA Cup, still mathematically fighting for the title, and ready to resume battling in the Champions League as well.”
Sunday 11th February
“That volley from Gudjohnsen looked even better on Match of the Day,” Dinky said, as the two of us had breakfast.
“It did for me too last night. Anyway, it wouldn’t hurt to get a more straightforward win in the next round,” I said, as the football news came on.
“After yesterday’s FA Cup win, John Terry has said that Chelsea’s players are in great spirits. Meanwhile, Galatasaray manager Eric Gerets has claimed that Chelsea play dirty…”
“Not sure Carvalho would agree with that one.” I said.
“Elsewhere, Wigan Athletic boss Paul Jewell has admitted that his side can’t kick what he calls a “losing habit”. His side suffered a shock FA Cup defeat yesterday against Plymouth, and are hovering above the relegation zone…”
Two months ago, everything had seemed lost. Chelsea had travelled up to Newcastle and fallen apart, losing 2-0, Fontana and Terry had clashed on the pitch at the final whistle, and I’d been told the following day that if Chelsea were to fall out of the top four, Derpy and Dinky would likely never see each other again. Fortunately, a backs-to-the-wall performance and a last-minute Drogba winner against Liverpool, along with Bolton and Tottenham slipping up, had put paid to that notion, as had a few pulled strings.
Now, however, Chelsea were very much a changed side. Things could not be more different for the visit of Newcastle, who were eighth in the league and still looking to get into the top six.
“If we win today,” I said to Dinky, who was taking full advantage of the half term break to enjoy a week of joint lie-ins, “and Arsenal slip up at Liverpool, then we’ll go up to second. And United don’t play until 5:30. If we gain ground on them just before our Champions League tie, that’ll be a huge morale boost.”
One of Pinkie Pie’s duties as co-chair of Toon Army Equestria was attending the regular gatherings. These took place in the function room of the Coltsborough social club, a short walk from the station, whenever Newcastle were on TV or facing a top side.
“Good to see you, Pinkie,” Pinkie’s fellow co-chair said, as she entered.
"Who's the filly?" Pinkie asked.
"My daughter Summer. Summer Daybreak, since we officially adopted her last week."
Pinkie momentarily thought back to August when, during the game against Liverpool, he'd told her about how the filly he and his wife had been considered ideal for had ended up in London instead.
“...and here’s Crouch for Liverpool,” came the voice of Kick Off from the TV, which was showing the early match, “and he’s turned Toure, looks for the shot, and that’s his hat-trick! What a game this is, it’s now Liverpool three, Arsenal three!”
“How and why have we not taken the lead yet?” Rainbow Dash asked, as a rare Newcastle attack saw the ball go out for a goal kick.
“It’ll come,” I said.
“We’ve been absolutely brilliant these past few weeks,” Dinky added, “I can’t see this game going much longer without a goal.”
Dinky’s words nearly came true almost immediately. Makelele found Drogba, who took the ball through the Newcastle half before playing a one-two with Gudjohnsen and sending a shot just wide.
Five minutes afterwards, they did come true. Chelsea won a free kick in the centre circle and Lampard passed to Essien, who slipped the ball to Ferreira. Ferreira passed the ball into the area for Drogba, who turned and sent it past the outstretched hand of Shay Given to put Chelsea ahead.
Just after half an hour, Lampard went on a run, only to be blocked off before he could get a shot away. Three minutes later, a Newcastle attack broke down, with Terry robbing Martins and passing to Makelele. Makelele found Drogba, who looked to play Lampard in with a searching through ball. Lampard got into the area, holding off Steven Taylor, before driving a shot past Given to double Chelsea’s lead.
Three minutes later, however, Martins got the ball out wide and sent it into the area. Terry looked to intercept, but the ball took a deflection to Michael Owen, who fired the ball past the diving Cudicini into the opposite corner.
In Coltsborough, a huge cheer went up from the assembled Newcastle fans as John Motson told Ray Stubbs about the goal on Final Score.
“We might actually get something from this, you know,” Pinkie’s fellow co-chair told her, as many of the ponies there began to sing the popular Newcastle song Blaydon Races.
Chelsea had other ideas, though, and in the first minute of stoppage time, a throw-in by Ashley Cole found Terry, who sent a long clearance to Kalou on the left. Kalou raced away down the wing before sending in a cross to Drogba, who held off Moore before firing the ball across Given to restore Chelsea’s two-goal advantage.
The general consensus at half time was that Chelsea were not done yet. Indeed, they weren’t, as five minutes into the second half, Mikel passed to Drogba. Former Chelsea left-back Babayaro looked to intercept Drogba’s pass, but he couldn’t control the ball and Gudjohnsen was sent away down the right, crossing the ball into the area where Drogba met it with a volley which went in off the underside of the crossbar, completing his second hat-trick of the season.
Newcastle looked down and out, but four minutes later Michael Owen intercepted a pass from Mikel and passed to Martins. Martins looked to go for goal from distance, but he skewed his shot well wide. Mourinho then took Drogba off, replacing him with Ballack.
The match went quiet for about ten minutes, but midway through the second half, another Chelsea attack saw Ashley Cole play a long ball to Kalou. Kalou played in Gudjohnsen, who sent the ball just wide.
Two minutes later, a pass from Owen was intercepted by Terry, who passed to Makelele. Makelele passed to Kalou, who played the ball through to Gudjohnsen. Gudjohnsen got to the edge of the area and sent a low shot past Given to further extend Chelsea’s lead. Four minutes later, he too was taken off, with Doyle replacing him as Mourinho looked towards the upcoming Champions League game.
With just over ten minutes left, Doyle passed to Kalou, who played the ball into the area. Ballack raced in and hit a first time shot, which went into the net despite Given getting a hand to it.
Chelsea 6-1 Newcastle United (Drogba 25, 45+1, 50, Lampard 34, Gudjohnsen 69, Ballack 79; Owen 37)
“We’ve made life difficult for ourselves previously…” Mourinho said in the post-match interview.
“That’s making life difficult for yourselves?” Pinkie’s co-chair exclaimed incredulously.
“Six-one here, three-all at Anfield, five-two at Tottenham-Watford and four-two at Fulham-Sheffield United,” I said as we headed home, “Why don’t you watch Match of the Day with me tonight instead of tomorrow morning? Of course, there’s still United against Everton this evening…”
“...played long by Patrice Evra,” Martin Tyler said, as the United-Everton game entered its final moments, “But it’s headed clear by Phil Neville. Ronaldo now, sends a cross into the area, Rooney with the header, saved by Richard Wright! And it’s hacked clear by Lescott, and that’s it! Everton have held on to a one-all draw here at Old Trafford, Leon Osman’s goal midway through the second half cancelling out Cristiano Ronaldo’s opener. Whisper it, but the title race isn’t over just yet!”
Premier League Table
1 Man Utd 64pts 2 Chelsea 55pts 3 Arsenal 55pts 4 Liverpool 51pts 5 Bolton 46pts 6 Tottenham 43pts … 16 Sheff Utd 27pts 17 Wigan 26pts 18 West Ham 20pts 19 Charlton 20pts 20 Watford 16pts
“Jose Mourinho has called for calm heads ahead of the first leg of his side’s crucial Champions League tie against Galatasaray tonight,” Breaking News said, reading the Sports News on Radio Canterlot, “Meanwhile, UEFA have warned both clubs to be on their best behaviour following the war of words which has been escalating since October as a result of the injury Ricardo Carvalho sustained in the friendly in August. It is expected that referee Luis Medina Cantalejo will be in for a difficult night…”
“You can say that again,” Autumn muttered.
“Meanwhile, ahead of Liverpool’s match against Bayern Munich, Rafael Benitez has said that his side are fully confident…”
“Dinky isn’t being taken to the second leg, is she?” Autumn asked Lyra a couple of minutes later.
“No,” Lyra shook her head, “I spoke to Ms Hooves on Friday. Dinky’s guardian told her that he considers Turkey too much of a stretch, and off-limits due to the tensions between the two clubs.”
“That’s a relief,” Autumn replied.
“It’s Champions League night at Stamford Bridge,” Free Kick said, “And here on Sport 2 we have coverage of Chelsea’s game against Galatasaray. The one tie UEFA most likely didn’t want, after Carvalho’s injury caused significant damage to relations between the two sides back in August. Chelsea come into this match in superb form, having climbed to second in the Premier League, but the general feeling in the Galatasaray camp is that they want to put Mourinho’s money where his mouth is…”
Just under 40 minutes in, things were looking exceptionally bad. Michael Essien, Claude Makelele and John Terry had all been booked in the opening 30 minutes, and that wasn’t even the worst of it. Eight minutes into the match, Karan had opened the scoring for Galatasaray, and just after half an hour, Hasan Sas had doubled their lead with a powerful shot which gave Cudicini no chance.
Rainbow Dash and I looked at each other nervously, and I put what I hoped was a reassuring arm around Dinky as I murmured “Remember the Tottenham game” into her ear.
“I have to say that preseason games are normally forgotten quickly, but not in this case,” Free Kick said, “That friendly in Glasgow where Carvalho was injured left a bad taste in everyone’s mouth, as did the war of words…”
Indeed, tempers were running high, and the referee had had to act quickly on several occasions to diffuse potential confrontations.
“There’s half time,” Free Kick said, as the teams left the field, with quite a few players nearly squaring up to each other, “and you get the feeling that Mourinho has to give the biggest team talk in the history of all team talks. It’s only half way through the first leg, but they are two goals down, two away goals down, and as such they are surely on the brink of elimination.”
It was a subdued mood in the home crowd during the interval. I cast my mind back to the previous season, when Barcelona had won 2-1 at Stamford Bridge in the round of 16 1st leg.
“So here come the teams,” Free Kick said, “And it looks like Makelele has been taken off, with Joe Cole coming on to replace him. A big, big second half coming up for Chelsea.”
Chelsea started the second half a lot brighter, and the Galatasaray defence had to be alert to keep Drogba and Gudjohnsen at bay. However, eleven minutes into the half, a clearance by Kovac found Drogba, who passed out wide for Joe Cole. Cole passed to Gudjohnsen, who played in Ballack. Ballack's shot was saved by Mondragon, but he pounced on the rebound and made no mistake, before grabbing the ball and sprinting back to the centre spot.
This seemed to ignite something in the Chelsea team, and suddenly Galatasaray were finding themselves struggling to cope. Just after the hour mark, Drogba was played in by Joe Cole, who was proving to be instrumental. The Ivorian looked to score the equaliser, but his shot was tipped wide by Mondragon.
Mourinho then brought Robben on for Ferreira, looking to seize on the initiative. Indeed, Chelsea were now asking serious questions of Galatasaray, and the Turkish side were unable to find the right answers. With twenty minutes left, Michael Essien overlapped Joe Cole and took the ball down the right. He then crossed the ball to the far post, where Cole, who had cut inside, volleyed home to level the score.
The atmosphere inside Stamford Bridge had moved up numerous notches, but everyone knew that Galatasaray would have the advantage if the match finished 2-2.
As such, Chelsea continued to attack. With just under fifteen minutes remaining, Lampard sprayed the ball wide to Joe Cole, who once again set off down the right. This time, his cross found Drogba, who beat Alexandre Song in the air to head home at the near post.
“What a second half this is turning out to be!” Free Kick exclaimed, as Chelsea celebrated. “In the space of 25 minutes, they have turned this match on its head!”
Derpy, however, continued to watch intently. Rainbow Dash had told her about away goals and, as it stood, a 1-0 or 2-1 win for Galatasaray in the second leg would see them go through.
With four minutes left, another Chelsea attack saw Lampard pass to Gudjohnsen. Gudjohnsen played the ball to Ballack, who had made a great run into the area and fired the ball across Mondragon to seal the win and secure some breathing space.
Chelsea 4-2 Galatasaray (Ballack 56, 86, Joe Cole 70, Drogba 77; Karan 8, Hasan Sas 32)
“And there's the final whistle!” Free Kick exclaimed, as Ballack sank to his knees in the centre circle with his arms held aloft, before being buried under a sea of blue shirts, “, “And Chelsea have put in a second half performance that can take its place as one of the great European comebacks-”
“They’re gone,” his co-commentator, Offside, interjected. “The Galatasaray players, they’re gone.”
Whilst there were scenes of jubilation among the home support - and indeed, in the Traveller’s Rest, where Derpy’s cheering was drowned out by the general pandemonium - the Galatasaray players were standing around looking absolutely stunned, wondering how they could have lost after taking such a commanding lead. Things subsequently threatened to turn ugly as the teams left the pitch, as a number of Galatasaray players attempted to square up to the home side, with a couple of them confronting Mourinho as he went onto the pitch to congratulate his players and applaud the fans. However, the home side were having none of it, having done their talking on the pitch.
Wednesday 21st February
“Sports news now,” Breaking News said, as Autumn began her lunch, “And in football, Mourinho has said that the second half of last night’s match was the best 45 minutes he’s ever seen as a manager. Meanwhile, Bayern manager Ottmar Hitzfeld has admitted that his side’s failure to score an away goal at Anfield could prove costly; Bayern were beaten 2-0 by Liverpool last night. Elsewhere, Manchester United and Arsenal are both in action tonight, as Arsenal travel to the Bernabeu whilst United face AS Roma…”
“It’s called knocking, you know. You should try it sometime.” Autumn said, as Belladonna barged into her office.
“Less attitude, more action,” Belladonna snapped. “I’m concerned about Berry Punch. I don’t think that her daughter should be around so much alcohol…”
“Berry Punch, the landlady of the Traveller’s Rest?” Lyra asked, when Autumn told her an hour later.
“That would explain the alcohol comment,” Autumn said, “But this has come completely out of the blue. No initial investigation, not even any report which would lead to an investigation. And she sounded almost vindictive – scratch that, she was vindictive – when she told me.”
“Then we’ll conduct our own investigation,” Lyra responded. “How does lunch at the Traveller’s Rest sound tomorrow?”
“I’m glad you’re coming with me, to be honest,” Autumn said, as she and Lyra disembarked from the train at Ponyville station, “I can’t help but feel I’m not particularly welcome here after what happened in June.”
“I’m sure that there won’t be any trouble,” Lyra said, “It might have been awkward if you ran into Dinky or Ruby, but Dinky's in London and I'll diffuse any tension if we run into Ruby. Anyway, I know my way around here.”
“It still feels off, disappearing off to Ponyville for much of the day.”
“Technically, we’re on duty,” Lyra replied, “We’re conducting an investigation, it just so happens that lunch time falls in the middle of it, and it also means we’re away from her for a while.”
“And what can I do for you?” Berry asked, as the two of them entered the Traveller’s Rest.
“Well, we might as well get the, er, unpleasantries over with,” Autumn said.
“Unpleasantries?” Berry asked.
“Belladonna said that she was ‘concerned’ about the fact that your daughter lives surrounded by alcohol. I have no idea how she suddenly become concerned about the fact that a pub would serve alcohol, but, and I know this sounds like the most stupid question ever, do you store supplies in your daughter’s bedroom?”
“What? That’s ridiculous. Ruby and I sleep upstairs, and all the alcohol is stored in the cellar, to which I have the key. And to preempt another of her ‘concerns’, while I like to have the odd drink, I’m not a heavy drinker - why would someone running a pub drink their profits?”
“In that case,” Lyra said, “What caused Belladonna to get on your case?”
“I think I have a rough idea…” Berry replied.
Monday 18th December
“...then it’ll be time to blow the final whistle on this silly agreement.”
Belladonna smirked as she turned around and walked away, registering the devastated look on Derpy’s face. Of course Chelsea weren’t going to win the treble; all she was doing was saving her from heartache further down the line.
According to her timetable, there was time for a drink before the next train to Canterlot. She remembered passing a pub on the way from the station, and decided to stop there. She arrived at the pub, entered it, and walked up to the bar.
“Good afternoon. I'll have-” she began, but Berry cut her off.
“Get out of my pub,” she said, forcefully.
“What?” Belladonna asked, taken aback.
“You heard me, out! And stay out; You're barred for life! And if you don't vacate these premises in the next five seconds I'm calling the constabulary!”
Thursday 22nd February
“So Belladonna wanted Ruby taken away because she got banned from here?” Autumn said, as their food arrived, “That's wrong on just about every level imaginable.”
“We can't prove that, though,” Lyra replied, “Which is most likely why she waited two months before making her move. If it works and Ruby ends up being taken away, then she gets her revenge, and if, as thankfully in this case, it doesn't, then nopony is going to be able to prove it. We need solid evidence, and we don't have any. It would just be written off as a coincidence.”
“In the same way I can't prove that she's tampering with the visitation forms,” Autumn said, looking up, as if for guidance, at the TV, which was showing a replay of David Beckham's free kick against Arsenal from the previous evening.
Saturday 24th February
“...ahead of this evening’s London Derby, several Tottenham players have said that they want revenge, not just for the match in October, but also an apparent dispute between the two sides which took place in the tunnel after said match.”
“That’s the first I’ve heard of it,” I said, “Maybe they’re so desperate to beat us in the league that they’re making stuff up now. Then again, we both saw how Galatasaray reacted after the second half on Tuesday.”
“But surely they’ll be fresher? After all, they didn’t play in midweek...” Dinky said tentatively.
“Maybe, but that comeback against Galatasaray will be a huge boost. Not only that, but we call their ground ‘Three Point Lane’ for a reason.”
“A ding-dong derby here at White Hart Lane this evening,” Kick Off announced, “With Tottenham hosting Chelsea. The Blues come into this match on a massive high after their win over Galatasaray in midweek, but there was no midweek game for Tottenham, as they received a bye from UEFA for their UEFA Cup Round of 32 tie against Feyenoord. Chelsea are without Michael Essien, who picked up a knock, as well as Carvalho and Cech who are still not fully fit. Tottenham, meanwhile, know that a win will see them climb to sixth in the table, after Portsmouth’s 0-0 draw against Aston Villa...”
At half time, the score stood at one goal each. The deadlock had been broken after 37 minutes, when Robbie Keane had fed in Aaron Lennon, the England winger firing the ball past Cech to give Tottenham the lead. Chelsea’s response had been nearly instantaneous, with Drogba sending a piledriver past Robinson from 20 yards four minutes later.
The second half, however, was a lot more tentative, and it took nearly half an hour for the first real chance to emerge, as Drogba ran onto a loose ball and sent his shot over the bar. Four minutes later, Keane received the ball from Jenas 35 yards out and tried to emulate Drogba at Everton, but his shot was comfortably caught by Cudicini.
Mourinho brought Joe Cole and Gudjohnsen on, and with eight minutes to go, this paid dividends. Chelsea won possession in the centre circle and Joe Cole played a one-two with Gudjohnsen, before getting past Ledley King and hitting a low shot from the edge of the area into the bottom corner of the net beyond the despairing dive of Robinson.
“...and Joe Cole gets on the scoresheet again!” Kick Off exclaimed, “Eight minutes left, and once again Joe Cole comes off the bench to score a vital goal!”
There was still some fight left in the home side, however, and with time nearly up, they won a corner. Jenas tried to whip the ball into the area, but Kovac intercepted and blasted it upfield, with the match ending a minute later.
Tottenham Hotspur 1-2 Chelsea (Lennon 37; Drogba 41, Joe Cole 82)
“Well, Tottenham miss out on the chance to go back up to sixth,” Big Match said, as he analysed the match with Kick Off and Full Time afterwards, “But Chelsea really seem to be hitting form at just the right time. Can either of you see them retaining their title?”
“It’s unlikely,” Kick Off replied, “But if United were to slip up, then I can easily see Chelsea pouncing and increasing the pressure.”
“Liverpool and United aside, we’ve got a fairly straightforward run-in,” I said, as the two of us boarded the train at Hackney Downs to take us back to West Brompton. “And if United run out of steam and we keep winning...well, like I said, bigger leads have been overhauled in the past.”
Premier League Table
1 Man Utd 67pts 2 Chelsea 58pts 3 Arsenal 58pts 4 Liverpool 54pts 5 Bolton 46pts 6 Everton 44pts … 16 Sheff Utd 30pts 17 Wigan 29pts 18 Charlton 21pts 19 West Ham 20pts 20 Watford 19pts
“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.
“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
Welcome to Hell. - Galatasaray fans’ banner which greeted Manchester United players, 1993
Wednesday 7th March
“Ahead of Chelsea's crunch Champions League second leg match in Istanbul tonight, Mourinho has admitted that his side are in for a tough game,” Breaking News said, as Autumn continued writing her report from her and Lyra's recent visit to Ponyville, “As it stands, Chelsea need to avoid losing by two or more goals if they are to join Manchester United in the last eight. The home fans, meanwhile, have promised a hot reception for the Blues…”
“What do you mean, you never received it?” Autumn asked incredulously, as she rang the visitation office, “Fine - I'll deliver another one, myself, tomorrow!”
“Elsewhere, Liverpool are in prime position to qualify for the quarter finals tonight; they take a 2-0 lead back to the Allianz Arena…”
“Nervous?” I asked Dinky, who was breathing heavily as the pundits gave their pre-match speculation.
She nodded.
“Perfectly normal to feel nervous before a game such as this,” I said. “After all, so am I.”
“Well, this is where we find out what Chelsea are made of,” Kick Off announced, as the two teams walked onto the pitch. “A hostile crowd, two away goals conceded in the first leg but, crucially, they have a two goal lead from the first leg as well.”
“Indeed,” Full Time added, as the teams lined up for the Champions League anthem, “They know that to stand any chance tonight, Galatasaray have to attack. In this case, the return of Carvalho is a huge boost.”
Galatasaray looked to attack from the beginning, and five minutes into the match, Ballack conceded a free kick as he impeded Karan. The Galatasaray man squared up to Ballack, but the Portuguese referee, Olegario Benquerenca, quickly diffused the confrontation. The free kick itself was a waste, going harmlessly wide after Karan went for goal from 40 yards.
Chelsea went on the attack five minutes later, with Robben getting down the right before seeing a cross caught by Mondragon.
Most of the action was in midfield, the next chance not coming until the 25th minute. Arda Turan launched a long ball into the area, which Ashley Cole headed clear.
Just after the half hour mark, John Terry was fouled by Karan in the centre circle. Lampard passed the free kick to Ferreira, who fed the ball to Makelele. Carvalho then took over, getting into the area before playing a short pass to Drogba. Drogba's shot was parried by Mondragon, as was the rebound before Song cleared.
Chelsea's back four seemed to be spurred on by the return of Carvalho, and as the half entered the closing stages, a long ball by Karan was cleared by John Terry. As the half entered stoppage time, Akman passed to Karan, who held off Ashley Cole and got into the area before sending a tame shot harmlessly wide, before another speculative ball into the box from Karan was headed clear by Ashley Cole.
Tempers were still running high at half time, with several Galatasaray players trying to square up to their Chelsea counterparts as the teams left the pitch.
“This has been a solid defensive display from Chelsea so far,” Kick Off said, as, in the Traveller's Rest, even Rainbow Dash looked tense.
“Even so, I can't help but feel that there's a red card coming,” said Full Time, “There's still a lot of bad blood between the two sides.”
Full Time’s words would prove prophetic less than ten minutes into the second half. The second half started scrappily, with a half chance for each side, but then a pass from Ballack found Drogba, who went on a run into the Galatasaray half. As the Ivorian approached the area, he was brought down from behind by Song. Ballack and Carvalho rushed over, clamouring for a card, but Benquerenca shooed them away...before calling Song over and giving him his marching orders. Lampard went for goal from the free kick, and only a smart save from Mondragon prevented Chelsea from going ahead. The resulting corner was only cleared as far as Ashley Cole, whose shot went wide.
As the match went on, Galatasaray realised that they were running out of time. With 25 minutes left, a cross from the left found nobody, with Cole booting it into touch. The resulting throw in threatened to cause trouble, but it was scrambled away by Carvalho.
“Still goalless, as Chelsea look to break, and the news coming from the Allianz Arena is that Claudio Pizarro has given Bayern a 1-0 lead over Liverpool with fifteen minutes left…”
With just over ten minutes left, a shot by Ashley Cole was parried by Mondragon, with Drogba sending the follow up wide.
“Almost there…” I muttered, as the match entered the last five minutes and Dinky huddled up next to me.
With a minute remaining, Galatasaray attempted to launch a desperate attack down the left. The attack, however, was thwarted by Boulahrouz, who cleared the ball deep into the Galatasaray half.
“We’re through, that's it,” I said, giving Dinky's shoulder (for want of a better term) a reassuring rub.
Three minutes later, Chelsea were, and it was.
Galatasaray 0-0 Chelsea (Song s/o 54) Chelsea win 4-2 on aggregate
“And the final whistle goes, and Chelsea have done what was required of them,” Kick Off said, “They have emerged unscathed from the lion's den to go through to the quarter finals. Carvalho did superbly tonight in his first start since that friendly in August, and that is what is called poetic justice!”
In the Traveller’s Rest, Rainbow Dash was back to her usual self, as two Galatasaray players continued to remonstrate with the referee over Song’s red card.
“So who can we get in the quarter final?” Dinky asked as I put her to bed.
“Well, it's an open draw at this stage,” I said, “So it'll be one of” - I counted on my fingers - “Real Madrid, Man Utd, AC Milan, Lyon, Valencia, Barcelona or Liverpool.”
Thursday 8th March
“So what did you find?” Belladonna asked, as Autumn and Lyra entered her office.
“We found that there is no risk to Ruby Pinch and, as such, the matter is closed.” Autumn said, placing the report on Belladonna’s desk. “Now if you excuse us, we have work to do.”
“Here it is,” Autumn said, as she handed the form to a member of the visitation team, “Now I know you’re about to go for a team lunch at The Two Princesses, but please, sort this out as soon as possible because I need to send it to London, which means sending it through the two embassies.”
Once again, however, she didn’t notice Belladonna hovering just out of sight, having eavesdropped on the entire conversation.
Dinky and several of her classmates were once again crowded around a radio at the embassy as the draw for the sixth round of the FA Cup was made.
“...will play Aston Villa. Number six.”
“Number six is Chelsea.”
“And they are at home to…”
“Please be Plymouth…” Dinky thought.
“Number four.”
“Number four is Arsenal. Number five.”
“Number five is Everton.”
And they will play...number two.”
“Number two is Plymouth Argyle…”
Saturday 10th March
“...despite their elimination from the Champions League by Real Madrid in midweek, Arsene Wenger has said that his side are still eyeing the double…”
“Wishful thinking,” I retorted, “We're unbeaten against that lot in the last nine matches against them. We beat them in November with three key players missing and turned them over in their own backyard just over a month ago.”
“And what about the fourth missing player?” Dinky asked, as she poured herself a cup of tea.
“Fontana? Well, he’s solely looking to put himself in the shop window so that a Champions League side like Bayern or Inter comes calling in the summer, but if he can’t score against a League One side tomorrow then there’s little hope of that.”
“Today’s quarter final of the FA Cup is perhaps the most eagerly-anticipated,” Kick Off said, “Chelsea versus Arsenal, with both sides having eyes on a possible double. They both sit nine points behind Manchester United in the title race, but while Arsenal are out of the Champions League, Chelsea marched on into the quarter finals with that rearguard display in Istanbul. Petr Cech is still not fully fit, so Carlo Cudicini keeps his place in goal...”
The match started well for Chelsea, and inside the first ten minutes, Drogba did what he did best with a shot which beat Lehmann for sheer power. But then, in the twentieth minute, came a potential turning point.
“Here’s Fabregas,” Kick Off said, “And he’s looking to create something, now Adebayor, shrugged off the ball by Lampard, but the referee’s blown for a foul...hang on, he’s reaching for a card, and it’s red! I don’t believe this! Well, Mike Riley is saying that Lampard was the last man, but there were at least two defenders covering, Mourinho is absolutely livid!”
“Well, the important thing is that Chelsea keep their heads,” Full Time said, “They’re a goal to the good, if they keep their eyes on the prize they should see it through.”
The free kick went harmlessly wide, and Mourinho sacrificed Gudjohnsen for Makelele, reverting to a flat midfield. It was, however, Chelsea who had the next chance. Ballack intercepted a pass from Eboue to Gilberto, before finding Drogba, who went on a run through the Arsenal area, holding off Eboue and Toure, before getting into the area and seeing his shot cannon back off the post, with Lehman gratefully gathering the ball.
Ten minutes later, a cross by Essien was cleared by Eboue. Ferreira beat Hleb in the air and crossed the ball to Drogba, who couldn’t strike it cleanly and volleyed it wide.
Arsenal looked to get back into the game as the half drew to a close, with a ball into the box being cleared. Three minutes from the break, Ljungberg passed to Eboue, who hit the ball first time into the area. Henry beat Carvalho in the air, but his header was straight at Cudicini. Two minutes later, a cross from Hleb was cleared by Ashley Cole.
Arsenal started the second half brighter, and five minutes in, a cross from Ljungberg was headed clear by Carvalho. The clearance was intercepted by Gilberto, who looked to go for goal and sent the shot considerably wide.
Four minutes later, Makelele intercepted a pass and sent the ball to Ballack. Ballack slipped it to Essien, who got down the right, getting past Gallas before sending in a cross. Drogba beat Eboue to the ball and connected with a volley, only to hit the post for the second time in the match.
With just under twenty minutes left, Drogba was caught offside, before Mourinho brought Joe Cole on for Ferreira and moved Essien to right back.
As the match entered the final ten minutes, Robben intercepted the ball ahead of Ljungberg and and passed to Drogba. Drogba played a give-and-go with Joe Cole before getting into the area and seeing a shot tipped wide by Lehmann, with Robben heading Ballack’s corner wide. Chelsea won another corner three minutes later, which was cleared.
With two minutes left, Henry fed the ball to Adebayor, who sent Ljungberg down the right. Ljungberg sent a cross into the area, which Carvalho was able to clear ahead of Henry. That was Arsenal’s last attack, and Chelsea advanced into the FA Cup semi finals.
Chelsea 1-0 Arsenal (Drogba 9, Lampard s/o 20)
“Right, I’d say we’ve got 40 minutes before El Clasico starts,” I said, looking at my watch, as the three of us left the stadium. “So I say we make a detour via the supermarket opposite the flat and get some supplies for the game.”
El Clasico did not disappoint. Early in the match, a cross from Higuain was deflected to Van Nistelrooy, and the former Man Utd player let fly from just outside the box to give Real Madrid the lead. Shortly afterwards, a pass from Samuel Eto’o into the area found Messi, who sent a low shot into the bottom corner to level the score.
Real Madrid went straight to the other end, and were awarded a penalty when Guti was fouled in the area by Oleguer, who received a yellow card. Van Nistelrooy made no mistake, sending Valdes the wrong way to restore Real’s lead. Barcelona came back, and Ronaldinho had a shot saved by Casillas before Messi smashed the rebound into the roof of the net.
On the stroke of half time, Barcelona were reduced to ten men when Oleguer received a second yellow card. Real Madrid looked to take full advantage, and Sergio Ramos restored their lead with a header in the second half.
That looked to be that, but there was still one last twist. In stoppage time, Ronaldinho found Messi, who beat two Real Madrid players before firing a shot across Casillas to have the final word.
“That...was...awesome!” Rainbow Dash exclaimed. I couldn’t help but agree.
Monday 12th March
“So, we can now go live to the draw for the quarter finals of the Champions League.”
The UEFA Executive pulled out the first plastic football and unscrewed it.
“Chelsea, will play...Liverpool.”
“Them again…” I muttered, “This is the third season in a row we’ve faced them.”
“Lyon, will play...Barcelona.”
“Liverpool and then Barcelona? All we need now is Monaco and we’d have the full set.”
“AC Milan, will play...Valencia.”
“Wait, that just leaves-” I muttered. Dinky seemed to have caught on as well.
“Real Madrid, will play Manchester United.”
Tuesday 13th March
“The international break looms,” Kick Off announced, “But before it arrives, we can bring you live coverage of tonight’s West London Derby at Stamford Bridge. Chelsea are in amazing form at the moment as they look to make up for the first half of the season, and Mourinho has said that he is relishing the battle ahead as his side are drawn to face Liverpool in the Champions League yet again...”
“Think it’s over, Ferguson? Think again!” Rainbow Dash exclaimed, as we left the stadium.
Chelsea had come out on top in the West London Derby, having controlled the game from start to finish. Twelve minutes into the match, Arjen Robben had cut inside from a pass by Drogba and given Chelsea the lead.
The visitors had responded in the 27th minute through Moritz Volz, but three minutes later Chelsea had restored their lead, Drogba heading home from Robben’s cross.
Chelsea then proceeded to dominate the second half, and seven minutes from the end, Drogba’s effort was parried by Niemi and Gudjohnsen pounced on the rebound.
Premier League Table
1 Man Utd 73pts 2 Chelsea 64pts 3 Arsenal 64pts 4 Liverpool 58pts 5 Bolton 49pts 6 Everton 48pts … 16 Wigan 33pts 17 Sheff Utd 31pts 18 Charlton 27pts 19 West Ham 23pts 20 Watford 20pts
In a way, it was probably a good thing that Chelsea were away to Liverpool the following day, I thought, as I looked out of the window. Tomorrow was Mother’s Day – a major sore point, given the circumstances of what had happened in June.
It was, however, a very pleasant day; definitely a day worth doing something. Something that it had been too cold to do since the end of September.
“Dinky, do you want to go for ice cream?”
“On my way!”
“Table for four, please. Somewhere quiet.” Twilight said, as she, Rainbow Dash, Derpy and Lyra entered Sugarcube corner.
“Thank you for coming at such short notice,” Twilight said to Lyra, as the four of them sat down and ordered a pot of tea, “Given how difficult this weekend is going to be.”
“I know I’ve said this every time we’ve been here, but whoever decided to open up a football-themed ice cream parlour is a genius,” I said, as the two of us enjoyed our “Sixty-sixes”.
“...Lita, to give Reading a two-nil lead against Everton at The Madejski,” came the voice from a nearby radio, “Still goalless, meanwhile, between Watford and Manchester United at Vicarage Road…”
“Hang on,” I said. “Excuse me,” I called to the person behind the counter, “What did he just say the United score was?”
“Nil-nil.”
“So if it stays like that – and remember, they nicked a point off us in January,” I said to Dinky, “And we beat Liverpool tomorrow…”
Dinky’s eyes widened.
“...has finished Blackburn one, Newcastle two.” the voice on the radio in Sugarcube Corner announced. “And we are getting news now from Vicarage Road, and the news is that Watford have held Manchester United to a nil-nil draw, which will have huge implications at both ends of the table…”
“Oh, get in there!” Rainbow Dash exclaimed, as she pulled Derpy into a hug. “This is where we start to reel them in!”
Sunday 18th March
Away from all the hustle and bustle of the main bar, four ponies sat in a quiet area of the Traveller’s Rest, as the build up to the game began.
“An intriguing contest for us today,” Kick Off announced, “Liverpool versus Chelsea, with both sides due to meet in the Champions League after the international break. Liverpool came to Stamford Bridge when the Blues were in turmoil, but things could not be more different today. Chelsea are on a run of six straight victories, and Liverpool have struggled as of late…”
“We’ve won on our last three league visits here,” I said, as the two of us took our seats, “I can’t see anything other than a fourth today, the way we’ve been playing.”
“This is a big, big match in the title race,” Kick Off said, as the teams walked onto the pitch, “Eight games of the Premier League season left, and with Manchester United being held to that shock draw at Watford yesterday, if ever there was a time for Chelsea to bloom, it is now!”
Liverpool edged the tentative opening stages, with a long ball from Xabi Alonso being headed clear by Terry and another evading everyone.
Just after the fifteen minute mark, however, Chelsea went on the attack. A shot from Gudjohnsen struck the post, and Steve Finnan then lost the ball to Lampard. Gudjohnsen pounced on the loose ball out wide and looked to cross. His cross was cleared by Carragher the clearance only got to Michael Ballack, who chested the ball down, let it bounce, and sent a shot past Reina and into the Liverpool net.
Things nearly got even better five minutes later. Gudjohnsen passed the ball to Drogba, whose shot was saved by Reina.
On the half hour, Alonso held Lampard off and passed to Gonzalez. Gonzalez held Ballack off and got into the area, but despite having Kuyt and Bellamy as options, looked to shoot, sending the ball straight at Cech.
This would come back to haunt Liverpool two minutes later. Wright-Phillips’ pass found Ballack, who played the ball on to Drogba. Drogba ran at Sami Hyypia before passing to Gudjohnsen, who sent a bending shot past Reina to double Chelsea’s lead.
Liverpool tried to drag themselves back into the game, and four minutes until half time, John Arne Riise sent a cross into the area, which was headed clear by Ferreira.
Chelsea were looking to send a clear message to Old Trafford, and five minutes into the second half Lampard played a one-two with Ballack before having a shot saved by Reina.
Two minutes later, Ballack was pulled back by Hyypia. Rob Styles diffused the situation before it could escalate into handbags, and Lampard sent the free kick over the wall and into the net.
Chelsea were now rampant, and just after the hour mark, a cross by Ashley Cole was cleared into touch.
As the second half reached the halfway point, Ballack passed to Makelele, who played the ball on to Lampard. Lampard played the ball through Carragher’s legs to Gudjohnsen, who passed to Wright-Phillips. Wright-Phillips, from the edge of the box, sent the ball into the roof of the net.
Dinky now realised as to why the Chelsea fanzine added a trademark symbol after the phrase “Famous Anfield Atmosphere”, as the home support had fallen virtually silent. It was only until the last five minutes that Liverpool threatened, with shots by Kuyt and Riise being deflected behind.
Liverpool 0-4 Chelsea (Ballack 16, Gudjohnsen 32, Lampard 52, Wright-Phillips 68)
“The final whistle puts the hosts out of their misery, and what remained of Liverpool’s title bid is surely all over now,” Kick Off said, as Rainbow Dash was glomped by Derpy in the Traveller’s Rest, “But what an emphatic performance from the visitors this was! In this dress rehearsal for the Champions League quarter final, Chelsea were simply word-perfect!”
As the visiting supporters made their way back to Lime Street station, Dinky looked up at the sky.
“Happy Mother's Day, Mommy,” she whispered, wiping a tear from her eye.
Saturday 31st March
The match at home to Middlesbrough was entering its closing stages, and the result was long beyond doubt. With seventeen minutes gone, Gudjohnsen had converted a pass from Robben to open the scoring for Chelsea, before Lampard had doubled the lead with just over twenty minutes to go.
With Chelsea evidently conserving their energy for the upcoming Champions League tie, it looked as though the last five minutes would pass without incident. But as stoppage time loomed, a commotion seemed to break out from various parts of the ground.
“What’s going on?” I asked. Many other supporters seemed to be asking the same thing.
“It’s United!”
“What about United?”
“Who’s got a radio?”
“Turn it up, turn it up!”
The supporter next to Rainbow Dash did have a radio, and he duly obliged.
“-qualiser, it's Portsmouth one, Manchester United one, Matt Taylor has cancelled out John O’Shea’s opener! A huge moment in the title race, Chelsea still leading Middlesbrough by two goals to nil as well!”
A huge roar went up from the home supporters. Three minutes later, the final whistle blew at Stamford Bridge, followed in due course by the one at Fratton Park.
Chelsea 2-0 Middlesbrough (Gudjohnsen 17, Lampard 69)
Portsmouth 1-1 Man Utd (Taylor 89; O’Shea 30)
At the start of March, Manchester United had led the table by nine points. As March turned to April, that lead had been cut to five.
Premier League Table
1 Man Utd 75pts 2 Chelsea 70pts 3 Arsenal 68pts 4 Liverpool 61pts 5 Bolton 53pts 6 Tottenham 49pts … 16 Wigan 33pts 17 Charlton 31pts 18 Sheffield United 31pts 19 West Ham 29pts 20 Watford 21pts
Perhaps it was to be expected that Chelsea would face Liverpool in the Champions League. After all, the two sides had met in the last two tournaments - the group stage in the previous season, and the semi final the season before that.
“I know we stuffed them at Anfield a few weeks ago, but this is different,” I said to Dinky, as the two of us prepared to depart for the match. “They have an annoying habit of showing up when we face them in a cup.”
What probably didn't help was Mourinho harping on about the “ghost goal” at Anfield which had ultimately seen Liverpool beat Chelsea in the semis two years prior.
“Welcome to Big Match Live: Champions League,” Big Match said, as Derpy and Twilight took their usual places in a packed Traveller’s Rest, “Everyone's been talking about this one since the draw was made; it's the quarter final first leg between Chelsea and Liverpool. While over on Sport 2, there's live coverage of tonight's other quarter final match between Lyon and Barcelona...”
“Yet again, Chelsea and Liverpool meet in the Champions League,” Kick Off said, as the teams walked out onto the pitch, “This is the third season in a row that they’ve met in this competition, and Chelsea will be looking to replicate their performance at Anfield back in March…”
“You know what tonight’s all about, Dinks?” Rainbow Dash asked Dinky, as the teams lined up for the anthem.
“Getting a solid lead to take into the second leg,” Dinky replied.
“Nope!” Rainbow Dash said, “It’s about revenge for the ghost goal at Anfield. We were going to win the Champions League that year and then the ref gives them a goal which didn’t even cross the line!”
“She was at that match at Anfield two years ago,” I said, when Dinky looked puzzledly at me, “So was I, for that matter.”
The opening ten minutes were a cagey affair, as both sides looked for an opening. In the tenth minute, Kuyt took the ball wide for Liverpool before going for a cross, which was intercepted by Essien ahead of Alonso.
Chelsea launched their first serious attack three minutes later. Gerrard lost the ball to Gudjohnsen, who went on a run through the Liverpool half and held off Carragher before seeing his shot parried by Reina, with Riise clearing the loose ball.
In the eighteenth minute, Robben got away down the right before sending a cross into the area. Gudjohnsen met his cross with a header, which was saved by Reina.
“It'll come…” I said, as the game entered a scrappy ten minute phase.
Just after the half hour mark, Ballack looked to cross the ball but was brought down by Steve Finnan, who received a yellow card. The free kick was too wide for Lampard to go for goal, but he passed the ball into the area, where Drogba beat Pennant to send the ball into the top corner and give Chelsea the lead.
Six minutes later, the ball was intercepted by Terry, who passed to Lampard. Lampard played the ball to Gudjohnsen, who fed Robben out wide. Robben played the ball through to Drogba, who sent a shot wide.
From the goal kick, the ball bounced awkwardly and Bellamy got to it before Mikel. He then passed to Kuyt, who got past Terry before shooting straight at Cech.
Two minutes from the break, a cross from Robben was headed clear by Alonso ahead of Drogba. The ball fell to Ballack, whose first time shot went wide.
In the final minute of the half, a headed clearance from Carvalho found Drogba, who beat Hyypia before passing to Lampard. Lampard got past Gerrard and played in Gudjohnsen, who held off Finnan and Carragher before getting into the area and getting off a shot which ended up in the net to double Chelsea's lead, despite Reina getting his hands to it.
“We just need to keep them out in the second half,” I said, handing Dinky a muffin at the half time break, “Not conceding an away goal has to take priority over going for a third.”
However, Liverpool came out in the second half and looked to get an away goal. Early in the half, they won a corner which was cleared by Robben, before a cross from Gonzalez was caught by Cech.
Just before the hour mark, Alonso passed to Bellamy, who slipped the ball to Gonzalez. Gonzalez beat Carvalho to send a cross into the area, and Kuyt beat Terry to head the ball past Cech and into the net off the far post to bring Liverpool back into the game.
This seemed to spark something in Chelsea, and five minutes later, Gudjohnsen played a cross field ball to Ballack. Ballack’s cross was met by the head of Drogba, but Reina was equal to it.
With just under 20 minutes left, Gerrard sent a pass to Pennant, who sent a long cross into the area. Bellamy got his head to the ball, but his header was saved by Cech.
Chelsea then began to dominate, with Lampard seeing a shot saved by Reina, who then tipped a Drogba shot behind before saving Carvalho’s header from the resulting corner.
With eight minutes to go, a pass from Essien found Ballack, who set off down the right and evaded a despairing lunge from Riise before sending a cross into the area, where Lampard beat Carragher to volley the ball into the top corner to restore Chelsea’s two-goal lead.
As the match entered the last five minutes, the Blues looked to increase their lead. First, Drogba passed to Robben, whose shot was blocked. Then, as the match entered stoppage time, Gudjohnsen intercepted a long pass from Alonso and passed through to Drogba, who got into the area and turned Carragher before seeing his shot saved by Reina.
However, there was one last twist in the match. In the final minute of stoppage time, Alonso found Gerrard, who turned Robben and fed Bellamy with a through ball. Bellamy’s shot struck the post, but the rebound fell to Kuyt, who fired the ball into the opposite corner.
Chelsea 3-2 Liverpool (Drogba 32, Gudjohnsen 45, Lampard 82; Kuyt 59, 90+2)
“This has been an extraordinary match tonight,” Kick Off exclaimed, as the players left the pitch, “Chelsea come away with the lead, but Liverpool have the away goals for when the teams meet at Anfield for the second leg in a week’s time; this tie is poised on a knife-edge!”
“So too is the other tie played tonight,” Big Match said, “Lyon have beaten Barcelona 2-1 in their match at the Stade de Gerland…”
“To be honest, we really could have done without conceding that away goal right at the end,” I said, as I put Dinky to bed that night, “I’d very much have preferred to go to Anfield with a two-goal lead. But,” I continued, “The players will know what they have to do. Avoid defeat, and we go through to the semifinals.”
“That was some match last night,” Lyra said, as she and Autumn talked in the latter’s office.
“It was some match the night before as well, if I remember correctly,” Autumn replied.
“I mean it, though,” Lyra said, as the radio moved to sports news.
“And Manchester United have one foot in the semi finals of the Champions League after last night’s match at the Bernabeu…” Kick Off’s voice then came on the radio.
“...now Giggs, passes to Rooney, oh, how about that! Fantastic strike by Wayne Rooney, beating Casillas at the near post from the edge of the area! What a way to end a match! Real Madrid two, Manchester United three!”
“Meanwhile, John Terry has praised the atmosphere at Chelsea’s game against Liverpool on Tuesday night, saying that it was ‘electric’. The Blues travel to Anfield next Wednesday for the second leg of the quarter final, but before that they travel to Bolton on Saturday; Sam Allardyce has said that he believes his side can still make it into the Champions League…”
Saturday 7th April
Eight league wins in a row and closing the gap on Manchester United to five points made for a positive mood as the supporters’ train made its way north towards Lancashire. A win was imperative, as Manchester United were facing their local rivals at the City of Manchester Stadium.
As the half time whistle blew, however, any positive mood had vanished. Chelsea, resting Terry, Lampard and Drogba for the Liverpool game, had started in a tired manner, with Bolton much the fresher for not being involved in European competition. Nicolas Anelka had given the home side the lead in the 9th minute with a low shot across Cech, before Kevin Nolan had doubled it two minutes later after latching onto a pass from Kevin Davies and sliding the ball into the net.
Chelsea recovered, and started to come into the game, finally getting their reward four minutes from half time when Salomon Kalou played in Wright-Phillips, who fired home from a narrow angle.
However, Anelka popped up again, this time pouncing on the rebound after Cech had saved from Davies, to give Bolton a 3-1 half time lead.
“Well, this does not look good for Chelsea,” the commentator on the radio said, as Rainbow Dash and Derpy listened with grim faces, “With Liverpool on the horizon - and they currently lead Middlesbrough by a goal to nil at Anfield - this could be a demoralising blow. Manchester United are being held, nil-nil in the Manchester derby, but that would see them increase their lead as it stands…”
Chelsea needed a good start to the second half, and that is what they got. Seven minutes into the half, Robben was fouled as he approached the area on the left.
“I’ve seen him score these,” I said, as Ballack stood over the free kick, “For Bayern and Germany.”
Sure enough, Ballack stepped up and fired a dipping shot over the wall and into the net to reduce the deficit.
This galvanised something in Chelsea, and three minutes later, the Blues won a corner, which was cleared. Mourinho then looked to inject some energy into his front three, bringing Joe Cole on to replace Wright-Phillips.
Bolton looked to crowd the midfield and frustrate Chelsea, but with just over 20 minutes left, a shot from Kalou was tipped wide by Jaaskelainen, with Ballack heading wide from the resulting corner.
“...going into the final twenty minutes at The Reebok Stadium,” the radio commentator announced, “Mourinho has brought Gudjohnsen on to replace Kalou, news coming through as well that Middlesbrough have equalised at Anfield…”
With just under fifteen minutes left, Arjen Robben got into the box and let fly with a shot which Jaaskelainen had to do well to tip wide. Gudjohnsen took the resulting corner, and a catastrophic miscommunication between Jaaskelainen and Vaz Te allowed Kovac to head the ball into an empty net and bring Chelsea level. As the away fans, players and management celebrated, Allardyce bellowed at his defenders, as his side’s Champions League hopes seemingly went out of the window.
“United?” Dinky asked, as the home side kicked off.
“Still nil-nil,” replied a nearby supporter.
Chelsea now had the bit between their teeth, and with two minutes to go, Ashley Cole sent Robben down the left. Robben got to the area and sent in a cross, which Michael Essien connected with. As the entire away section rose to their feet (and, in a few cases, hooves), Jaaskelainen got down low to make the save.
The final whistle went, and the two of us made our way out of the stands, as another commotion seemed to emerge from the concourse. We heard enough snatches of it to work it out for ourselves.
1 Man Utd 76pts 2 Chelsea 71pts 3 Arsenal 71pts 4 Liverpool 62pts 5 Tottenham 52pts 6 Bolton 51pts … 16 Wigan 33pts 17 Charlton 32pts 18 Sheffield United 31pts 19 West Ham 29pts 20 Watford 24pts
“Right, five league matches left,” I said, as the supporters' train took us back to London, “West Ham away, Sheffield United at home, Wigan away, Charlton at home and United at home. United have to face Arsenal as well, while we have four of the bottom five. I can see Arsenal getting something from United; so if that happens and we win our last five then the title should go to us.”
“Should?” Dinky asked.
“United have a better goal difference,” I replied, “Of course, we’ve also got the FA Cup and Champions League to consider. Focus right now needs to shift to Liverpool on Wednesday.”
The sound of Dinky's radio alarm woke her from her sleep, and she groaned as she felt the butterflies in her stomach. If Liverpool were to win tonight, Chelsea would be out of the Champions League, all the hope built up over the last two months would be dashed, and Belladonna would win. She headed for my room, hoping that a hug would soothe her nerves.
“...Manchester United had no trouble getting into the Champions League semi finals last night with a 2-0 win over Real Madrid at Old Trafford. Goals from Cristiano Ronaldo and Paul Scholes saw United triumph 5-2 on aggregate…”
That was old news to the both of us - we'd watched that game the previous night.
“...they will face AC Milan in the semi finals, after the Italian side ground out a goalless draw against Valencia to progress 1-0 on aggregate.”
“You really need to eat something,” I said a bit later, as Dinky stared at her breakfast.
“I'm not hungry,” she replied.
“Nerves?” I asked. She nodded.
“I've been nervous before a game several times,” I said, “And I've always felt better with something inside me.”
“Good evening, and welcome to Big Match Live: Champions League,” Big Match said, “We're at Anfield for tonight's pivotal second leg match between Liverpool and Chelsea, while on Sport 2, you can find live coverage of tonight's other match at the Nou Camp between Barcelona and Lyon…”
It was ironic, Dinky thought, that the song which had been sung to her on her first night in London was being belted out en masse by the home support.
“What a match we have for you tonight,” Kick Off exclaimed, as the teams walked onto the pitch, “Quite frankly, it’s impossible to call; Chelsea hold a slender lead from the first leg, but those two away goals mean that Liverpool would go through if they win tonight. The Blues are without Makelele, who picked up a knock against Bolton; can Mourinho’s side avenge their defeat here in 2005 and progress to the semi finals?”
Chelsea looked to get an away goal or two of their own, and with six minutes gone a cross from Ballack was parried by Reina and cleared by Carragher and Finnan. Two minutes later, a header from Ferreira found Lampard, who turned Hyypia and went for goal, only for his shot to be saved by Reina before Finnan cleared.
It took until the sixteenth minute for Liverpool’s first real attack, which resulted in Pennant being tackled by Ashley Cole before Terry cleared.
The match devolved into a midfield battle interspersed with half chances for each side until the 33rd minute. Drogba passed to Lampard, who set off on a run through the Liverpool half, recovering from a tackle by Gerrard and getting away from Riise before his cross found Essien, whose shot was tipped behind by Reina.
Four minutes later, Ashley Cole found Lampard, who played the ball on to Drogba. Drogba looked to shoot, but he was thwarted by a last ditch tackle by Riise.
As half time approached, Chelsea looked to attack once more, with Ballack’s cross finding Drogba, whose shot was saved by Reina.
“So, still goalless at half time,” Kick Off said, as the teams left the pitch, “As it stands, Chelsea would go through. They have had more of the game, and arguably should be ahead, but there are still 45 minutes to go…”
Chelsea still showed no intention of sitting back, and eleven minutes into the second half, Ballack got down the right and sent in a cross. This time, Gudjohnsen got on the end of it, and volleyed the ball across Reina and into the net.
“What a finish!” Kick Off shouted, as Rainbow Dash and Derpy visibly relaxed in the Traveller’s Rest (as did Dinky at Anfield as Gudjohnsen wheeled away to celebrate in front of the away fans, closely followed by Drogba, Lampard and Ballack), “Eidur Gudjohnsen, who missed a chance here to send Chelsea to the final two years ago, gives them the lead! It’s one-nil to Chelsea on the night, four-two to Chelsea on aggregate, and Liverpool have 35 minutes to find two goals!”
Liverpool looked to hit back instantly, and two minutes later a free kick from Gerrard was headed clear by Carvalho. Gerrard recovered, however, and played a through ball to Kuyt, who fired the ball over from a tight angle.
Chelsea then looked to attack the flanks in the following ten-minute period, as Essien first evaded the lunge of Finnan and got down the left before his cross was cleared into touch. Ballack then saw a cross deflected into touch, before a Mikel cross was caught by Reina.
Chelsea continued to dominate as the match entered the last twenty minutes. With seventeen minutes to go, a clearance from Xabi Alonso was intercepted by Mikel, who played a long ball to Drogba. Drogba got past Hyypia into the area before taking a shot which was saved by Reina and cleared by Finnan.
“What a chance that was,” Kick Off said, “Drogba could have won the tie for Chelsea there.”
Two minutes later, Ferreira found Lampard, who went off on a run, getting past Gerrard before he himself saw a shot saved by Reina.
Then, in the 78th minute, Pennant got down the right, getting a cross in. Craig Bellamy was able to beat Carvalho to the ball and volleyed past Cech to bring the hosts level on the night.
“Oh, a brilliant volley!” Kick Off exclaimed, “Craig Bellamy brings Liverpool back on level terms, and it’s now one-all on the night, four-three to Chelsea on aggregate; whichever side scores next will surely go through!”
“We’ll see it through,” I said, putting an arm around Dinky as she tensed up, just as I’d done during the Galatasaray match.
Chelsea suffered a blow with ten minutes to play, as Carvalho limped off with a thigh strain and was replaced by Boulahrouz for the last ten minutes. This didn’t seem to faze Chelsea, however, and as the game entered the last three minutes Drogba passed to Gudjohnsen, who beat Finnan, Carragher and Hyypia as he got into the box, only to shoot wide. With one minute of normal time to go, a headed clearance from Boulahrouz found Drogba, who played in Gudjohnsen. Gudjohnsen turned Carragher and got into the area, only for Carragher to get back and tackle him before he could shoot.
As the match entered stoppage time, Kewell got down the left and turned Boulahrouz, before looking to find Pennant with a cross field ball. Ashley Cole, however, intercepted, and blasted the ball up the pitch.
Two minutes later, the whistle went.
Liverpool 1-1 Chelsea (Bellamy 78; Gudjohnsen 56) Chelsea win 4-3 on aggregate
“There’s the final whistle, and an exhilarating European night has ended in triumph for Chelsea!” Kick Off said, “This time, Mourinho gets one over on Benitez in a cup competition and avenges the 2005 semi-final. Chelsea have seen off the challenge of Liverpool and silenced the Mersey beat; they march on into the semifinals, where they will face Barcelona!”
“Indeed,” Big Match said in the studio, “Barcelona beating Lyon 2-0 at the Nou Camp tonight to go through 3-2 on aggregate. So, a recap of the two semifinals; Chelsea against Barcelona and AC Milan against Manchester United.”
It was late as the train sped south from Liverpool, but nobody seemed in any mood for sleep as the euphoria of getting revenge for 2005 had spread through every carriage.
“So, how would you like a trip to the Nou Camp for the second leg?” I asked.
“Welcome to the Sport Show on Radio Canterlot, and to quote today's Football Daily front page, are Chelsea on course for the Treble?”
“No they damn well aren't!” came Belladonna's voice from the other side of the door.
“Rattled, are we?” Autumn muttered, as Big Match and Kick Off discussed the previous night's match.
“...as well as Mikel,” Kick Off continued, “Especially how he kept Gerrard and Alonso quiet all game.”
“Well, Chelsea did suffer a blow last night as Carvalho limped off injured; he faces at least two weeks on the sidelines…”
With the feeling that she had done this far too many times, Autumn turned the radio off and dialled the visitation office.
Saturday 14th April
As the weather was getting warmer and Chelsea weren't in action until the following day, I'd taken Dinky to a tour of the newly rebuilt Wembley Stadium, which would be hosting the FA Cup Final in May. The semi finals were taking place this weekend; Everton would face Tottenham at Villa Park, while Chelsea's opponents at Old Trafford would be Aston Villa.
The two of us got back to the apartment (following a stop at Goalato) just as the league results were coming in.
“Manchester United cruised to a comfortable win over struggling Middlesbrough this afternoon. The result sees them open an eight point lead over Chelsea, who are in FA Cup action tomorrow and play their fixture at West Ham on Wednesday...”
Man Utd 2-0 Middlesbrough (Rooney 32, Giggs 55)
1 Man Utd P34 79pts 2 Chelsea P33 71pts
Sunday 15th April
Once upon a time, Aston Villa had been a great team. In the late 1970s and early 1980s, they'd collected a number of trophies, culminating in the European Cup in 1982. In the early 1990s, they'd challenged for the title and won the League Cup in 1994 and 1996.
However, the trophies had then dried up, and all they had to show since then was an appearance in the last FA Cup Final at the Old Wembley in 2000, in which Chelsea had beaten them 1-0. In the past six seasons, they’d flirted with relegation as often as they’d flirted with Europe.
This season's FA Cup, however, had given them the chance to rekindle their glory days. A surprise victory over Man Utd in the third round had been followed by wins over Nottingham Forest, Reading and Middlesbrough. Now, they faced Chelsea in their bid to get to Wembley and have a chance of winning their first trophy in eleven years.
Of course, Chelsea were still fighting on three fronts, and had their own eyes on the FA Cup; the last meeting between the two sides had been that final in 2000, which was the last time Chelsea had won the cup.
“So, half time here at Old Trafford,” Big Match said, “And we still have no idea of who will join Everton in the final; they beat Tottenham 3-1 in yesterday’s semi final at Villa Park…”
The score stood at 1-1 at half time, with both sides having traded blows. Midway through the first half, Agbonlahor had cut inside and scored from an angle with a shot which beat Cech at his near post. Then, six minutes before half time, Joe Cole, deployed behind Drogba and Gudjohnsen, had run onto a pass from Drogba to fire a low shot past Thomas Sorensen to bring Chelsea level.
“Well, Aston Villa have a chance now to show that they are still up there,” Kick Off said, as the teams emerged from the tunnel for the second half, “But Chelsea have shown this season that they can really turn it on in the second half.”
And turn it on they did. Four minutes into the second half, Joe Cole played a through ball to Gudjohnsen, who turned Phil Bardsley before unleashing a shot which was saved by Sorensen. Three minutes later, Drogba was fouled just outside the area by McCann, who was booked for the challenge. Lampard stepped up, but sent the free kick just over the bar.
The match then went quiet, as Villa looked to frustrate Chelsea in midfield; with Makelele seeing a cross caught by Sorensen.
Three minutes later, Sorensen was called into action again, saving a Drogba shot from a tight angle, and then saving Ballack’s header from the resulting corner.
As the match entered the last fifteen minutes and extra time loomed, Lampard looked to get his name on the scoresheet, but again Sorensen was on hand to save his shot.
Then, in the 78th minute, Bouma looked to clear the ball out of defence, but his clearance was blocked by Essien. Drogba pounced on the loose ball, and ran into the area, holding off Gareth Barry, before letting fly with a shot which beat Sorensen at his near post.
“Chelsea’s persistence has paid off at last!” Kick Off exclaimed, “And once again, it’s Drogba who scores a vital goal! Twelve minutes to go, and Chelsea lead in the FA Cup semi final!”
Now, it was Villa who looked to attack, but it wasn’t until the 86th minute that they looked like creating something. McCann passed to Agbonlahor, who played the ball on to Bardsley. Bardsley looked to cross from distance, but Ballack was there to intercept.
Chelsea finished the match stronger, and could even have doubled their lead in the final minutes. With a minute to go, Drogba was played in by Gudjohnsen. He let fly from a tight angle, with his shot being saved by Sorensen. Then, in the second minute of added time, a cross by Ballack was headed clear by Mellberg. Makelele intercepted the ball and passed to Gudjohnsen, who saw his shot tipped wide.
Chelsea 2-1 Aston Villa (Joe Cole 39, Drogba 78; Agbonlahor 22)
“And the final whistle goes, and Chelsea are going to Wembley!” Kick Off said, “They won the last FA Cup Final to be played at the Old Wembley, and now, they will be playing Everton in the first FA Cup Final at the New Wembley! Aston Villa, meanwhile, see their hopes of a first FA Cup in over 50 years dashed; a season which started so brightly will now only deliver a mid-table finish…”
In the stands, the Chelsea supporters were in full voice, singing a song which had not been sung for six years.
“Que sera sera, whatever will be will be, we’re going to Wembley…”
“It’s getting tickly now - squeaky bum time, I call it.” - Sir Alex Ferguson, 2003
Wednesday 18th April
As the title race heated up with five matches to go, things were no less tight down at the bottom of the table. Whilst Watford looked doomed, lying eight points adrift of safety, only six points separated Fulham in 15th and West Ham in 19th.
“Chelsea travel to the Boleyn Ground tonight looking to cut Manchester United’s lead back to five points,” Breaking News said on Autumn’s radio, as the Foal Protection Services caseworker filled out a request for yet another visitation form, “United currently hold an eight point lead at the top of the table, but Chelsea’s league match at the weekend was rearranged due to the FA Cup semi final. Alan Curbishley has said that his side must get a point to bolster their hopes of staying in the Premier League…”
Football could be incredibly ironic sometimes. At this time last season (and just under two months before Dinky’s unexpected arrival into my life), Alan Pardew had been manager of West Ham and Alan Curbishley had been manager of Charlton, with both sides comfortably in mid-table. Now, the two had switched clubs, and both sides were fighting relegation.
Unfortunately, while the fixtures against the bottom five clubs looked easy on paper, this was when sides fighting relegation began to fight tooth and nail for their survival. Aston Villa could attest to that; during the very first Premier League season in 1993, they had lost 1-0 at home to Oldham Athletic, thus handing Manchester United the title. Last season, Manchester United had suffered a 0-0 home draw against Sunderland which had all but handed the title to Chelsea.
“Well, these teams are the last teams you want to play against at this stage,” Kick Off said, as a shot by Carlos Tevez flashed wide of the post, “This looked like a mismatch, second bottom against second, but West Ham are playing as though their lives depended on it!”
“Well, their recent form has been telling,” Full Time added, “They’ve really put a good run together recently.”
Five minutes into the second half, there was just one goal separating the two sides. After an extremely scrappy first half, the deadlock had been broken three minutes after the break. A shot from Drogba was tipped behind by Green and, from the resulting corner, Essien had headed the ball down to Mikel, who volleyed it past Green to give Chelsea the lead with his first ever goal for the club.
West Ham looked to get back into the match, but Chelsea’s back four held firm. The next attack took place ten minutes later, when Lampard got out wide and crossed the ball in, with Ferdinand clearing the cross ahead of Drogba.
Five minutes after that, Shaun Wright-Phillips took off down the right, sending in a cross which Drogba connected with, only to see his header saved by Green.
The home side had barely threatened, but with twenty minutes to go, a long aerial ball found Tevez, whose first time volley went high over the bar.
This proved to be a wake up call for Chelsea, who looked to put the result beyond doubt. Four minutes later, Lampard played the ball to Joe Cole, who got out wide down the right and swung in a cross. Ferdinand headed the ball clear, but Lampard intercepted and sent a shot just wide.
With just over ten minutes left, Yossi Benayoun sent a cross into the area, but it was caught by Cech. Chelsea then closed the game out to collect another three vital points.
West Ham United 0-1 Chelsea (Mikel 48)
Friday 20th April
There was something about the carriage parked outside her house that made Diamond Tiara highly suspicious – possibly the tinted windows. She tentatively entered the front door, and noticed, in the sitting room, her mother and Belladonna Nightshade. She was too far away to hear their full conversation, but she definitely didn’t like what she did hear. As quickly and quietly as she could, she hurried up to her room, turning on the radio to hopefully allay any potential suspicion. She quickly looked at her alarm clock – it was ten past three, meaning that there was still time.
“Jose Mourinho has said that Chelsea must stay focused with four matches of the season to go…”
She grabbed a quill and her letter-writing set and quickly wrote down what she had heard.
“...Sheffield United are still struggling in seventeenth. In this weekend’s big match, however, Manchester United host Arsenal…”
She quickly hurried down the stairs as Breaking News announced that the Old Firm Derby could decide the winner of the Scottish Premier League and, ensuring that neither pony in the sitting room saw her, quickly exited the house and bolted off in the direction of the post office.
“I’m sorry, but Ms Hooves is busy right n-” Lyra said to Diamond Tiara a few minutes later, having answered the door.
“Actually, this needs to get to you,” Diamond Tiara replied breathlessly, “This could be important, but Belladonna must not see it.”
Lyra raised an eyebrow, but took the envelope anyway and then went back to her meeting with Derpy.
Saturday 21st April
“Over to you, Wenger,” I said, as the final whistle blew and Blue is the Colour sounded from the tannoy.
Compared to the West Ham game, the home match against Sheffield United had been a lot easier. Chelsea had dominated from the start, and midway through the first half, John Terry had risen highest to head the ball into the net from a corner. Seven minutes later, Lampard had doubled Chelsea’s lead, with a powerful shot which gave Kenny no chance.
Chelsea hadn’t got out of second gear, but the visitors had visibly wilted once the second goal had gone in, which Neil Warnock hadn’t been at all pleased about. With just under twenty minutes left, Eidur Gudjohnsen had made it three, and Chelsea had then closed the game out, conserving their energy for the upcoming match against Barcelona.
Chelsea 3-0 Sheffield United (Terry 22, Lampard 29, Gudjohnsen 72)
“By the way,” I said, as we made our way home, “Here-” I handed Rainbow Dash an envelope “-are your tickets to the second leg against Barcelona and the FA Cup Final.”
Sunday 21st April
“...now it’s Fabregas for Arsenal,” Martin Tyler said, as the Man Utd-Arsenal game entered its last five minutes, “Plays it to Van Persie out wide. Julio Baptista taking over, now, and it’s played to Rosicky on the left. Rosicky sends a low ball into the area, here’s Adebayor, goes for a low shot, and it’s in! Arsenal have pegged Manchester United back again! It’s a vital goal for Arsenal, but it’s an even more vital goal for Chelsea!”
Eight minutes later, the final whistle went, and as a furious-looking Sir Alex Ferguson shook hands with Wenger before storming down the tunnel, Dinky jumped into me, attempting to pull me into a hug, while Derpy and Rainbow Dash whooped with joy in the Traveller’s Rest.
Manchester United 2-2 Arsenal (Scholes 21, Rooney 64; Henry 48, Adebayor 86)
As the end of the season loomed, Manchester United’s lead over Chelsea had been cut from eleven points at the beginning of February, to three points with three matches left.
Premier League Table
1 Man Utd 80pts 2 Chelsea 77pts 3 Arsenal 72pts 4 Liverpool 68pts 5 Tottenham 58pts 6 Everton 54pts … 16 Wigan 35pts 17 Sheffield Utd 34pts 18 West Ham 32pts 19 Charlton 31pts 20 Watford 27pts
“Ahead of tonight’s Champions League semi final match against Barcelona, Jose Mourinho has said that the Treble is not on Chelsea’s minds…”
“So who are you backing?” Lyra asked.
“Barcelona,” Autumn replied. “I backed them for the Champions League before it started and I’m sticking to it.”
Although, any of the semi finalists could win it,” Lyra responded, “After all, Milan against United is bound to be just as tasty.”
“...John Terry has said that Chelsea are not scared of Barca, although the Blues will be without Ricardo Carvalho for the first leg…”
“To be honest, if we were scared of Barca, they’d pretty much be through before the ball was kicked,” I said, as the two of us prepared to leave for the match, “And it’s like I said before the first group match-
“-if you want to win this competition, you have to be able to beat the best teams in Europe.” Dinky finished, “Or in this case, the best team in Europe.”
That wasn’t an exaggeration. Barcelona had won the Champions League the season before and were top of La Liga, despite having been beaten 2-0 at Villareal at the weekend.
“A real treat in prospect for you here tonight,” Kick Off announced, “Chelsea against Barcelona, in the semi finals of the Champions League. Jose Mourinho pits his wits against Frank Rijkaard for a third consecutive season, and Terry, Lampard, Ballack, Joe Cole, Robben and Drogba go toe-to-toe with Ronaldinho, Messi, Eto’o, Deco, Xavi and Puyol over the two legs for a place in the Champions League Final…”
“We’re going to need a good start here,” Rainbow Dash said as we took our seats.
And a good start is exactly what happened. Four minutes in, a pass from Makelele found Robben, who sent a diagonal ball into the area for Joe Cole to fire into the net.
However, Barcelona were the Champions League holders and favourites for a reason, and got back into the game, with Cech having to be alert to keep out Ronaldinho and Eto’o.
Just after the half hour, however, a pass from Xavi set up Ronaldinho, who played it on to Deco. Deco raced into the area and slipped the ball under Cech to give Barcelona the equaliser.
“If you’ve just joined us, there’s ten minutes of the first half left,” Kick Off said, as Messi was forced into touch, giving Chelsea a throw-in, “And nothing separates the two sides, except for that Barcelona away goal.”
“Indeed,” Full Time agreed, “Chelsea know that they must take a lead back to the Nou Camp if they’re going to stand a real chance of going through.”
Neither side was looking to sit back, and in the 38th minute, Lampard played in Ashley Cole, who set off on a run down the left. He sent a cross in which was too high for Puyol to head clear, and Drogba beat Rafael Marquez and Edmilson before seeing his shot tipped wide by Valdes.
Four minutes later, Barcelona went on the attack, and a long cross from Deco was headed clear by Ashley Cole. Xavi picked up on the loose ball, and passed it to Messi, who got into the area and went for goal. His shot was parried by Cech and Ashley Cole tried to clear, but the clearance was deflected to Messi, who fired over the bar from a tight angle.
From the resulting goal kick, Edmilson lost the ball to Drogba, who set off on a run into the Barcelona half. As he bore down on goal, however, he was brought down just outside the area.
“Free kick to Chelsea,” Kick Off said, “And now, what’s De Bleeckere going to give here, he’s calling Sylvinho over...and it’s a red card! The former Arsenal player was deemed to be the last man, and Barcelona are down to ten men!”
Frank Lampard stepped up, but the free kick struck the wall and was cleared. As the half entered stoppage time, however, Makelele entered the Barcelona half before passing to Robben on the left. Robben took the ball down the wing before sending a cross into the area, where Joe Cole, holding off Marquez, raced in to connect. His shot was parried by Valdes, but Drogba pounced on the rebound to restore Chelsea’s lead.
“So, Chelsea a goal up and a man up,” Kick Off said, as the half time whistle went.
“The first ten minutes of the half are going to be so important,” Full Time added, “Barca need to resist Chelsea, and keep it at one goal while looking to catch Chelsea on the break.”
However, Chelsea, and Joe Cole, had other ideas. Seven minutes into the second half, Ballack fed Joe Cole in, and he set off down the right, leaving van Bronckhorst behind, before whipping a cross into the area. Drogba beat Puyol in the air and headed the ball past Valdes at the near post to give Chelsea a two-goal lead.
In the 55th minute, Joe Cole once again marauded down the right, before passing to Drogba. Drogba fed the ball on to Robben, who was tackled by Zambrotta before he could cross.
On the hour mark, Drogba looked to turn provider, passing to Joe Cole. Marquez, however, was able to clear before it got anywhere.
Four minutes later, Barcelona launched a rare attack. Messi got down the right before crossing into the area. Ronaldinho connected with the ball and volleyed goalwards, but a diving save from Cech kept the ball out. The ball looked to be falling for Eto’o, but Ashley Cole headed the ball clear before Essien was able to blast it up the pitch.
Barcelona were now beginning to grow frustrated, and with just under 20 minutes left, Eto’o was booked for a tackle from behind. From the free kick, a cross by Joe Cole was headed clear by Xavi. Ballack took control of the loose ball and passed to Joe Cole, whose cross was cleared by Puyol.
Joe Cole was giving van Bronckhorst a torrid time on the right, and four minutes later, he sent in another cross, which was caught by Valdes.
The match then entered a quiet period, giving the home crowd a chance to catch their breaths. With a minute to go, another Joe Cole cross was cleared behind by Marquez, with the corner being cleared.
Chelsea 3-1 Barcelona (Joe Cole 4, Drogba 45+1, 52; Deco 32, Sylvinho s/o 44)
“There’s the whistle, and Chelsea pass their toughest test so far with flying colours!” Kick Off exclaimed, as Derpy leapt about a foot in the air in the Traveller’s Rest, “They take a two goal lead to the Nou Camp next week, and only Puyol and Marquez prevented it from being a rout; once Sylvinho was sent off it was all Chelsea. All eyes on the San Siro for tomorrow’s semi final, but tonight belongs to Joe Cole, he was instrumental!”
“I’d say that this edges the 4-2 from two seasons ago,” I said, as we made our way back, “The 4-2 may have been more exciting, but it was in the second round. To win a semi final match so convincingly, even if it is just the first leg...well, after that, we fear no one.”
Thursday 26th April
“Just as tasty, you said,” Autumn said, as Lyra entered her office.
After the Chelsea-Barcelona game, the first leg of the other semi final, between AC Milan and Manchester United, had ended in a drab 0-0 draw.
“...with the two sides all square after last night’s match in the San Siro.” Breaking News said on the radio, “Meanwhile, there is a growing sense at Chelsea that this will be “third time lucky” for the Blues; before they go to the Nou Camp, however, they travel to Wigan on Saturday...”
“Is Dinky being taken to the second leg?” Autumn asked.
“Yes,” Lyra replied, “Her guardian offered her the chance barely two hours after the end of the quarter final and she said yes. Shame that they’re only there for the match, though. Barcelona’s a fantastic place, I went there on holiday a few years ago. Besides,” she added, to allay any potential fears Autumn might have had, “Rainbow Dash is going as well, and the three of them will be together.”
“But I'll tell you – you can tell him if you're watching it – we're still fighting for this title, and he's got to go to Middlesbrough and get something, and…and I tell you, honestly, I will love it if we beat them, love it!” - Kevin Keegan, 1996
Saturday 28th April
With three matches of the Premier League season left, the title race was wide open. Many eyebrows had been raised back in the summer when the fixture computer had pitted Chelsea against Manchester United on the final day of the season, but it seemed that the season was lining up for a grandstand finish.
“Final away league match today,” I said, as Dinky cuddled up to me, “Wigan away, 5:30 kick off, but you knew that when our tickets arrived,”
“So if United drop points…” Dinky said.
“As long as we win our next two, we shouldn’t concern ourselves with United until we play them,” I said, “We can’t do anything about them until the final league match.”
After finishing her breakfast, Dinky trotted through the sitting room, where Sky Sports was explaining what each side in the relegation zone needed to do to stay up, and went to the table next to the door. She picked up the postcard that had been left for her and carried it into her room, where she’d read it that night.
“Welcome to our final live match today,” Big Match said, as Sport 1 began its coverage from the JJB Stadium in Wigan, “Firstly, a reminder of how the table looks at the top…”
1 Man Utd P36 83pts 2 Chelsea P35 77pts
“...and at the bottom.”
16 Wigan P35 35pts 17 West Ham P36 35pts 18 Sheffield Utd P36 34pts 19 Charlton P36 31pts R Watford P36 27pts
“...West Ham’s win at Watford condemned the Hornets to relegation this afternoon, but Wigan aren’t out of the woods by any means. Defeat today would keep them nervously looking over their shoulders…”
Wigan seemed to know this, as they dug deep from the beginning, looking to grind out a point that would move them clear of West Ham. Chelsea dominated the opening 40 minutes, looking to get the win which would keep them hot on the heels of Manchester United, but it seemed that the home side would hold firm.
A minute before the break, however, a shot by Kalou was tipped wide by Kirkland. Lampard’s corner was met by John Terry, who powered a header into the net to give Chelsea the goal they needed.
“So, Chelsea know that their fate is in their hands,” Kick Off said, as the teams came out for the second half, “As it stands, they are on their way to another win, to set up a mouth-watering final day showdown.”
“Yes, but they can’t get ahead of themselves,” Full Time added, “They have to take it one game at a time, and of course they face Barcelona on Wednesday night so they’ve got to factor that in as well.”
Chelsea, however, seemed fully focused on the task at hand. Three minutes after the break, Salomon Kalou broke away down the left, sending in a cross which was volleyed wide by Shaun Wright-Phillips.
Wigan had barely threatened all match, but now they had to go forward to get back into the match. In the 52nd minute, Haested looked to send a lofted ball into the area, but it didn’t reach anyone and went out for a goal kick.
As the hour mark approached, yet another scrappy midfield battle saw Lampard get forward, playing the ball into the area for Gudjohnsen. Gudjohnsen then played in Wright-Phillips, who saw his shot saved by Kirkland. Mikel was the next to try his luck, volleying the ball wide from a cross by Ashley Cole.
“Well, this is not the most memorable game by any means,” Kick Off said, as Makelele came on to replace Boulahrouz, “But Chelsea are on course for three points.”
However, Man Utd had a superior goal difference, and as such, getting at least a second goal was vital. And, with just over fifteen minutes left, Terry tackled Emile Heskey in the centre circle and played the ball through to Lampard, who looked to pass forward. Lampard’s pass was intercepted, but David Unsworth lost the ball to Gudjohnsen. Gudjohnsen needed no prompting, and took the ball into the area before sliding it past Kirkland into the bottom corner of the net to double Chelsea’s lead.
“There’s the second,” Kick Off exclaimed, as Gudjohnsen wheeled away to celebrate, “A terrible defensive error there by Wigan, and you just can't do that against Chelsea, especially with the form they’ve been in of late!”
Gudjohnsen was withdrawn shortly afterwards and replaced by Danny Doyle, who’d suffered a spate of niggling injuries throughout the latter half of the season.
Wigan did start to come forward a bit more as the match entered its final stages. With around three minutes left, a cross into the area was cleared behind, forcing a corner, which was also cleared behind for another corner. The second corner, however, was cleared up the field.
In the final minute, Ashley Cole was penalised for handball, giving Wigan a free kick around thirty yards from goal. Former Sunderland player Kevin Kilbane went for goal, but couldn’t get it on target.
Wigan Athletic 0-2 Chelsea (Terry 44, Gudjohnsen 73)
“There it is, it’s another win for Chelsea,” Kick Off said, “And they keep the pressure on Manchester United. Two matches to go, and the two sides meet at Stamford Bridge on the final day of the season in what looks increasingly likely to be a showdown for the title. Chelsea host Charlton next Saturday, in a match that will have huge implications at both ends of the table…”
Premier League Table
1 Man Utd 83pts 2 Chelsea 80pts 3 Arsenal 75pts 4 Liverpool 69pts 5 Tottenham 61pts 6 Everton 54pts … 16 West Ham 35pts 17 Wigan 35pts 18 Sheffield Utd 34pts 19 Charlton 31pts R Watford 27pts
“What we need to do now, league-wise, is put as many past Charlton as we can next Saturday,” I said, as the train headed south, “If we’re going to go into the last match three points behind, we need to almost match United’s goal difference. However, before that, Rainbow Dash will be arriving on Tuesday and we’ll fly out to Barcelona on Wednesday morning.”
“Welcome to Barcelona,” I said, as the three of us disembarked from the British Airways flight.
“You’ve been here before?” Dinky asked.
“Champions League Round of 16 second leg, last season,” I said, “But this time, we’re the ones with a lead from the first leg.”
“So where are we staying?” Rainbow Dash asked.
“The Senator hotel,” I replied, “Ever been in a rooftop swimming pool?”
“That’s where we’ll be tomorrow,” I said, pointing towards the gigantic stadium as the three of us stood on the rooftop, looking out over the city lights of Barcelona.
As we headed to our room after a drink at the rooftop bar, Dinky cast one last look up at the night sky, as if sending a silent message somewhere.
Wednesday 2nd May
Two jaws dropped as the ponies they belonged to got their first real look at the Nou Camp.
“It’s even more spectacular at night,” I said, as we headed into the ground for the guided tour.
“...Barcelona are hoping for a second consecutive Champions League Final appearance, but they have it all to do tonight,” Breaking News said on the radio, as Autumn sipped a cup of tea, “They go into the second leg two goals down and without the suspended Sylvinho…”
“Following that fantastic win in the first leg last week, Chelsea take a two-goal lead to the Nou Camp, the home of Barcelona, with possibly their best chance to date of reaching the Champions League Final,” Kick Off said, as the cameras showed the supporters arriving at the ground and Lyra joined Derpy and Twilight in a packed Traveller’s Rest.
“Here we are,” I said, as Dinky hopped off Rainbow Dash’s back at the top of the huge number of stairs leading to the away section.
“Well, the stakes could not be higher,” Kick Off said, as the teams walked onto the pitch, “Chelsea are within touching distance of the Champions League Final, holding a two-goal lead from the first leg. But Barcelona know that a two-nil win would see them through thanks to their away goal. Milan await the victors after their 1-1 draw at Old Trafford last night saw them through on away goals.”
“For both sides, it’s time to be positive,” Full Time said, “They need to forget about Milan, and focus on tonight.”
Having it all to do, it was Barcelona who started with more urgency. Five minutes in, Edmilson tackled Joe Cole and played an aerial pass to Eto’o, who got into the area before shooting high over the bar.
Two minutes later, Edmilson played a pass to Xavi, who played the ball on to Eto’o. Eto’o then squared the ball to Ronaldinho, who got into the area before beating Cech at his near post.
“Well, it gets interesting now!” Kick Off said, “Barcelona needed that; they have to win 2-0 to go through, now we see how Chelsea respond!”
Chelsea looked to respond in the thirteenth minute, as Joe Cole got down the right and saw a cross cleared by Puyol, before the Blues saw a series of away attacks thwarted.
In the 24th minute, Ronaldinho once again got down the left, sending in a cross which was cleared by Ashley Cole ahead of Messi. Then, Gudjohnsen beat Marquez near the halfway line.
“Oh, and Barcelona have been caught cold here, and this could be a vital moment-!” Kick Off exclaimed, as Gudjohnsen raced into the opposing half virtually unopposed.
Gudjohnsen held off Zambrotta as he got into the area, before letting fly. His shot was saved by Valdes, but Robben pounced on the rebound and steered it into the empty net.
“What a counter by Chelsea!” Kick Off said, as Robben was mobbed by his team-mates and, up in the stands, Dinky visibly relaxed, “Arjen Robben cancels out Barcelona’s away goal; it’s one-all on the night, and Chelsea lead four-two on aggregate!”
Emboldened by that equaliser, Chelsea now began to take the ascendancy. Ten minutes before half time, Gudjohnsen found Joe Cole, who got away down the right and held off van Bronckhorst, sending a cross into the area. Robben got to the ball ahead of Xavi and Edmilson, but his shot hit the side netting. Five minutes later, Terry tackled Messi just outside the Chelsea area and passed to Makelele, who played the ball on to Joe Cole. Cole got into the area, and only a block by Zambrotta prevented another cross.
As the half time interval approached, Edmilson played in Eto'o, who passed to Ronaldinho. Ronaldinho looked to cross into the area, but his cross evaded everyone as Terry successfully kept Eto'o at bay.
“45 minutes left of this Champions League semi final,” Kick Off said as the teams left the pitch at half time, “Chelsea in the driving seat, and the next goal will be so crucial; if Barca get it, it's game on, but if Chelsea get it, it's game over!”
Chelsea looked to get at their opponents in the second half, and five minutes in Robben got down the left and sent in a cross. The cross was headed clear by Marquez as far as Lampard, who shot wide from distance.
Five minutes later, Gudjohnsen played in Robben, who took off down the left again, getting past Zambrotta before sending in a cross. This time, Gudjohnsen got to the ball ahead of Puyol, but he sent his shot wide.
Once again, Chelsea's wingers were proving instrumental, with Robben marauding down the left flank again on the hour mark after Ashley Cole intercepted a pass from Eto'o, only to be pulled back by Xavi. The free kick was cleared, but a foul on Makelele saw Chelsea awarded another free kick in what Kick Off called “Frank Lampard territory” as Barcelona brought on Ludovic Giuly for Xavi to increase the attacking options.
Lampard stepped up and sent a dipping shot over the wall and into the top corner, giving Valdes no chance.
“How about that!” Kick Off exclaimed, as Mourinho did a knee-slide in his technical area and, in the Traveller's Rest, Derpy shouted “Get in there!”, “Frank Lampard gives Chelsea the lead in the Nou Camp! It's 2-1 to Chelsea on the night, it's 5-2 to Chelsea on aggregate!”
“We've done it, we're through to the final!” Rainbow Dash shouted.
“But there's still half an hour left-” Dinky replied.
“Doesn't matter,” I said, as I pulled her into a hug, “We have two away goals now, they have to score four in that half an hour!”
The final half hour passed almost in a blur. It was practically all Chelsea, with Cech catching a Ronaldinho lob in the 68th minute. As the game entered the final fifteen minutes, a corner by Lampard was punched clear by Valdes and a free kick was headed clear by Zambrotta.
With five minutes left, a cross by van Bronckhorst was headed clear by Ashley Cole before Gudjohnsen headed wide from a Joe Cole cross. In the first minute of stoppage time, a cross from Eto’o was headed clear by Ashley Cole as far as Giuly, who blasted a first time shot high and wide to sum up Barcelona’s evening.
Seconds later, Stefano Farina blew the final whistle.
Barcelona 1-2 Chelsea (Ronaldinho 7; Robben 26, Lampard 61) Chelsea win 5-2 on aggregate
“The best team in Europe couldn’t stop them; who can stop Chelsea now?” Kick Off said, “The treble is on, they’re through to the Champions League Final!”
“And after they’ve been dogged by injuries, by drama,” Full Time added, “I’d say that this season has almost been like a soap opera…”
It was, excepting travel back from certain away matches, the longest that Dinky had stayed up since the World Cup Final in July. The three of us relaxed in the pool on the hotel’s rooftop after getting back from the stadium, once again looking out over the city lights and occasionally catching the faint sounds of a Chelsea song from down in the city.
Thursday 6th May
Derpy hung her cap on its hook and reached into her postbag, taking out the Barcelona postcard that Rainbow Dash had given her. The message was short, but sweet.
“Dear Mommy,
Champions League Final, here we come!
All my love,
Muffin”
Having put Dinky to bed that night, I glanced at the framed poem opposite her bed as I left the room. Two lines stood out to me.
“But my fondest wish is greater, than every one before, And that’s for a bright future for the muffin I adore.”
“Three points off the title and still to play United, and in the FA Cup Final and the Champions League Final,” I muttered to myself, as I went to watch the news, “And given that we’ve just won in the Nou Camp, I think it’s looking very bright.”
“I'm sorry,” Derpy replied on the other end of the phone, “But I just wouldn't be able to bear it if we lost and my Muffin was snatched away again.”
That was probably to be expected; she’d turned down my offer of an FA Cup Final ticket for the exact same reason.
Saturday 5th May
“Games against teams fighting relegation tend to go two ways,” I said, as I gave Dinky her plate of microwaveable pancakes, “Either they fight tooth and nail like Southampton did against Man Utd two years ago, or they collapse completely like Norwich did at Fulham that same season.”
“So this could be difficult? I know you said not to worry about United, but their goal difference…”
“Charlton have been in freefall for weeks,” I replied. “In fact, they’ll go down anyway if West Ham beat Newcastle.”
“A huge match at both ends of the table,” Kick Off said, “And two contrasting moods with two matches to go. For Chelsea, the mood is optimistic; they are ecstatic to be in their first ever Champions League Final thanks, in no small part, to that fantastic win in the Nou Camp, and they know that The Treble is now a very real possibility. For Charlton, however, it’s a mood of resignation; not only do they have to win their last two matches, including today’s match at Stamford Bridge, but they have to hope that results elsewhere go their way if they are to avoid relegation…”
“We’ll be fine, Dinks,” Rainbow Dash said as we took our seats, “We’ve won at Old Trafford, The Emirates, Anfield and the Nou Camp; this lot shouldn’t be any trouble.”
“Well, it’s so far, so good for Chelsea,” Kick Off said as the teams walked onto the pitch, “This is a match they should win, in fact, it’s a match they must win to keep in touch with Manchester United. They cannot afford sympathy at this stage; if Charlton go down, they go down.”
“Indeed,” Full Time added, “When you’re chasing three trophies like they are, then if you send a team down along the way, so be it.”
Chelsea knew that a big win was vital with United playing later, and in the sixth minute Joe Cole played a one-two with Drogba before getting to the edge of the area and going for goal, only to see his shot parried by Scott Carson and cleared. Six minutes later, Robben took the ball down the left, sending in a cross which was volleyed wide by Joe Cole.
In the sixteenth minute, Ballack tackled Reid and passed to Joe Cole, who played the ball to Drogba. Drogba ran to the edge of the area and played in Robben, who sent the ball wide. Two minutes later, Drogba passed to Lampard, who kept the ball moving to Robben. Robben got into the area and centred the ball, only for Ben Thatcher to get to the ball ahead of Drogba and clear it.
“Well, Chelsea are all over Charlton,” Kick Off said, as the camera focused on Mourinho in the Chelsea dugout, “But they are still yet to score. You get the feeling that once the first goal comes, more will follow, but it’s a case of getting that first goal.”
In the 26th minute, Robben got down the left, before suddenly switching direction and leaving El Karkouri standing. He passed to Lampard, who let fly from the edge of the area. His shot was tipped against the post by Carson, but Drogba raced in to steal the ball from Thatcher and steer the ball into the net to break the deadlock.
Four minutes later, as Jimmy Floyd Hasselbaink looked to set up an attack, Lampard took the ball off his former team-mate and ran through the Charlton half, beating Luke Young before seemingly being stopped by El Karkouri. However, he recovered, and regained possession before shooting from the edge of the area. Carson got his hands to the ball, but was unable to prevent it from going into the net.
Just over ten minutes before the break, a Charlton attack broke down, with Terry intercepting the ball and passing it to Makelele. Makelele played the ball to Lampard, who kept it moving to Ballack. Ballack then passed to Joe Cole, who took the ball into the area before sending it across Carson into the top corner of the net.
“What a spell by Chelsea!” Kick Off exclaimed, as Joe Cole celebrated, “Three goals in less than ten minutes! Surely no way back for Charlton, who seem to be sinking without trace, from both this match and from the Premier League!”
Just before half time, Lampard passed to Ashley Cole, who got down the left before passing to Robben. Robben’s shot deflected off El Karkouri, but Thatcher missed the header and Joe Cole smashed the ball into the top left corner.
“Well, I can say that we’ve won this one,” I said, as the teams left the pitch. “But a few more would be good to really erase United’s goal difference advantage.”
However, with three vital matches coming up, Mourinho brought Doyle on for Drogba at half time. Seven minutes into the half, Ballack robbed Faye. Hreidarsson intercepted and passed to Reid. Ballack, however, retook the ball, and ran to the edge of the area sent the ball wide of the mark.
In the 57th minute, a high ball was intercepted by Essien, who passed to Joe Cole. Joe Cole played the ball to Doyle, who ran at the Charlton defence before playing in Robben. Robben got into the area, before shooting wide.
Seven minutes later, a clearance was headed back by Carvalho to Makelele, who robbed Holland before sending a long ball to Doyle. Doyle got into the area, before seeing a shot blocked by Hreidarsson.
Charlton had barely threatened, but with twenty minutes left, a cross from Darren Bent was headed clear by Terry. Holland got to the loose ball and passed to Hasselbaink, who fired wide as Diawara came on to replace Ben Thatcher.
Three minutes later, Joe Cole got down the right and sent in a cross, which Robben connected with and sent a low volley into the net to add a fifth goal. At this point, a number of away fans decided that they’d seen enough, and began to leave.
Chelsea were in no mood for letting up, and as the match entered its last ten minutes, both Ballack and Doyle were denied by Carson. With two minutes to go, Joe Cole played a through ball to Doyle, who got into the area and sent a low shot past Carson to add a sixth for his sixth goal of the season.
Chelsea 6-0 Charlton Athletic (Drogba 26, Lampard 30, Joe Cole 34, 45+1, Robben 73, Doyle 88)
“There’s the whistle, and Charlton’s seven-year spell in the top flight comes to an end,” Kick Off said, “They needed a massive performance today, but they came up against the juggernaut that Chelsea have been in recent weeks. Chelsea were judge and jury today; they sentenced their opponents to the drop and carried out the sentence themselves. And while Charlton have to come to terms with the prospect of playing in the Championship next season, all eyes will be on the final day showdown here next Sunday when Chelsea and Manchester United battle it out for the title!”
“We’ve cancelled out United’s advantage in goal difference with that win,” I said, as we left the stadium, “In fact, if they lose at Aston Villa, we’ll only need a draw. Now, how would you like to go to Goalato?”
However, two goals from Cristiano Ronaldo and one from Paul Scholes in the second half ensured that United would go into the final day with the initiative, while West Ham and Wigan both lost to ensure that the relegation dogfight would go to the final day.
Premier League Table
1 Man Utd 86pts GD +55 2 Chelsea 83pts GD +52 3 Arsenal 78pts GD +31 4 Liverpool 72pts GD +22 5 Tottenham 61pts GD +25 6 Bolton 55pts GD +18 … 16 Sheffield United 37pts GD -22 17 West Ham 35pts GD -25 18 Wigan 35pts GD -28 R Charlton 31pts GD -36 R Watford 27pts GD -30
Wednesday 9th May
As Dinky took the post to the kitchen table, she noticed an envelope that looked different to the others. It had the Chelsea club logo on it, but also the Champions League logo.
“Actually, why don’t you open it?” I said, when she handed it to me.
She carefully did so...and out dropped three tickets to the Champions League Final.
“But I thought Mommy didn’t want to come…”
“Unfortunately, she didn’t,” I said, “Otherwise there would have been four in there. Rainbow Dash, however, definitely does want to come.”
"So that's why she was giving you that money on Saturday."
As the final game of the Premier League season approached, there were still two unanswered questions. The first one was whether Wigan, West Ham or Sheffield United would be relegated, joining Watford and Charlton in the Championship the following season. The second, and more important from many points of view, was whether the title would go back to Old Trafford for the first time in four years, or remain at Stamford Bridge for the third season running.
“Final day of the league season,” I said, as Dinky cuddled up to me, “And it seems like only yesterday that we were due to host West Ham.”
“So this is a direct shoot-out for the title?” Dinky asked.
“Almost,” I said, “Due to goal difference, we need to win 2-0 or better. But we beat them 2-0 at Old Trafford back in October, so it’s certainly possible.”
Sky Sports News covered the game in greater detail as I put some pancakes in the microwave and a muffin in the toaster before frying a couple of eggs.
“...and so a reminder that this is how the league table looks ahead of today’s title showdown at Stamford Bridge:
1 Man Utd 86pts GD +55 2 Chelsea 83pts GD +52
Chelsea, therefore, must win by at least two goals to finish as champions. Manchester United’s fans and players, when asked by Sky Sports News, have said that they are fully confident of taking the title, whilst in an interview yesterday, John Terry said that the fans could make the difference…”
I allowed myself a smile as Dinky attacked her breakfast with gusto. Evidently, she’d taken my words from the morning of the Champions League game at Anfield to heart.
“...down at the bottom, Sheffield United know that avoiding defeat will almost certainly be enough for them to stay in the Premier League…”
“Ready?” I asked that afternoon.
“We’re too close to be nervous now,” Dinky replied.
“Welcome to the last Big Match Live of the Premier League season,” Big Match said, “Not since 1999 have we come into this day with the title still up for grabs, and not since 1989 has it been a direct shoot-out for the title.”
“Well, we all know that the title will be decided here,” Kick Off said, as the camera showed the spectators – human and pony – arriving at the ground, “But who it’ll go to remains anyone’s guess. In the blue corner, an in-form Chelsea side with home advantage. In the red corner, Manchester United, who’ve been top since August and only need a draw, but have seen their lead at the top whittled away since March. And of course, it’s against United that Chelsea won the title last season – although they only needed a point.”
The three of us took our seats. The teams were read out, Dinky and Rainbow Dash both took a deep breath, and then the Liquidator began to play.
“When the fixtures were announced, who would have thought that the title would be decided by this one game?” Kick Off said, as the teams walked onto the pitch.
“Well, Chelsea know that not only do they have to win, they have to win by two clear goals,” Full Time added.
“This incredible title race down has gone down to the last day, and both Mourinho and Ferguson name the sides you’d expect,” Kick Off said, “It’s Zero Hour in the title race, it’s Chelsea against Manchester United, and it’s live!”
Chelsea went straight for the jugular from the start, and three minutes in, Lampard played a through ball to Joe Cole, who tackled Ferdinand before taking a shot which was tipped behind by van der Sar. The resulting corner was cleared, but only to Ashley Cole, whose shot was deflected to Makelele, who sent the ball wide.
“It isn’t often that you see Makelele score…” Dinky muttered under her breath.
“Too many in the box for him to pass,” Rainbow Dash replied.
Chelsea continued to search for an early goal, and four minutes later, Robben got down the left before sending in a cross, which was cleared by Vidic ahead of Drogba.
Whilst Kick Off and Full Time were commentating on this match, there were also updates from elsewhere in the league, especially down at the bottom.
“We can tell you that there has been a goal at Bramall Lane, and it’s Ashley Young who’s opened the scoring for Aston Villa.” Kick Off said, “That doesn’t change anything at the bottom, though…”
With fifteen minutes gone, a header back by Larsson was intercepted by Makelele, who passed to Ballack. Ballack played in Drogba, who beat Vidic in the area before Ferdinand cleared.
Two minutes later, Drogba was penalised for jumping unfairly with Ronaldo, and a free kick was awarded. Ronaldo stepped up, and sent the ball against the post and out.
“Should have done better there,” Kick Off said, as Derpy exhaled in the Traveller’s Rest, “That could have been game over if he’d scored.”
Three minutes later, some good passing play by Chelsea saw Ballack get into the area. Ballack sent a cross in to Robben, who volleyed over.
“Chelsea knocking at the door, but still unable to get in front,” Kick Off said, “And we can tell you that Wigan have taken the lead against Manchester City, so this is how things look at the bottom…”
16 Wigan 38pts GD -27 17 Sheffield United 37pts GD -23 18 West Ham 36pts GD -25
With just under 20 minutes of the half left, Robben again got down the left. This time, Drogba beat Vidic, but not van der Sar, who tipped the header wide.
“Corner to Chelsea,” Kick Off said, “And a goal for Tottenham at White Hart Lane, meaning that West Ham really are going down as it stands.”
The corner was cleared, but Makelele got to it and passed to Robben, who was fouled by Ferdinand. Lampard saw the free kick strike the wall, but recovered possession and crossed the ball into the area, where Drogba beat Vidic to the ball and volleyed it into the net.
“Chelsea are in front at last,” Kick Off exclaimed, “Now, however, they need another, because this is the table as it stands…”
1 Man Utd 86pts +54 2 Chelsea 86pts +53
“And news coming through as well that Rob Hulse has equalised for Sheffield United against Aston Villa.”
In the 33rd minute, Essien passed to Ballack, who beat Henrik Larsson and Ryan Giggs before sending a long cross-field ball to Robben, who beat Gary Neville before crossing the ball in to Drogba. Drogba, however, saw his header tipped wide by van der Sar.
Five minutes later, Drogba was brought down by Ferdinand just outside the area, earning the defender a yellow card. Lampard stepped up and fired the ball into the top corner, in an almost exact replica of his goal at Old Trafford.
“What a vital goal!” Kick Off exclaimed, as the home crowd went wild, “Frank Lampard with the kind of free kick he’s become almost notorious for this season! And Chelsea, having been behind in the title race all season, are now top of the league! Sir Alex Ferguson is furious; his side may well have taken the title and thrown it away!”
1 Chelsea 86pts +54 2 Man Utd 86pts +53
Chelsea now looked to add breathing space, and five minutes from the break Joe Cole headed just over from an Ashley Cole cross. As the interval loomed, a shot from Larsson was saved by Cech and cleared by Terry. Drogba then played in Robben, who got down the left and sent the ball into the area, where Joe Cole slid in only to poke the ball just wide.
“So, a big 45 minutes to go,” Big Match said at half time, as I handed Dinky a muffin, “Chelsea, as it stands, are on course for the title, but if United were to score, they would go back on top.”
The second half was considerably less frantic than the first, as Chelsea looked to keep United out. In fact, the most significant action Kick Off could report on was Aston Villa retaking the lead at Bramall Lane. Twelve minutes into the half, Joe Cole sent a cross into the area, with Neville keeping Robben at bay.
“So, Park Ji-Sung comes on to replace Giggs,” Kick Off said, “And we are getting news that West Ham have equalised at White Hart Lane, but they would still be going down as it stands.”
With just under fifteen minutes remaining, a Manchester United attack broke down and Essien, moved into midfield after Ferreira came on for Ballack, set off into the United half, ignoring Drogba to his right as he got to the edge of the box and fired the ball across van der Sar and into the opposite corner of the net.
“That is surely the title now!” Kick Off exclaimed, as Rainbow Dash pulled Dinky into a hug and Derpy let out an ecstatic whoop in the Traveller’s Rest, “Michael Essien, with a fantastic breakaway goal, gives Chelsea breathing space! This is how it stands now…”
1 Chelsea 86pts GD +55 2 Man Utd 86pts GD +52
"...and we can also tell you that Carlos Tevez has given West Ham the lead at White Hart Lane, meaning that this is how things stand at the bottom!”
16 West Ham 38pts GD -24 17 Wigan 38pts GD -27 18 Sheffield United 37pts GD -23
“Well, Sir Alex Ferguson surely knows now that the game is up,” Kick Off said, as the game entered the last five minutes, “And so too must Neil Warnock, as Aston Villa now lead 3-1 at Bramall Lane…”
As the match entered its closing stages, United desperately tried to salvage something. First, a long ball found Larsson, who hit the side netting from a tight angle, before a free kick was blasted high over the bar by Gary Neville.
Three minutes of stoppage time were impatiently counted down by the Chelsea faithful, before the final whistle blew, accompanied by the announcement from the tannoy.
“Ladies, Gentlemen, and Ponies...we are the champions!”
Chelsea 3-0 Manchester United (Drogba 29, Lampard 38, Essien 76)
The home crowd stayed behind long after the away fans had trudged out of the ground, as the Chelsea players and Mourinho did a lap of honour around the pitch. The title had been won in the most dramatic circumstances in Premier League history.
Final Premier League Table
C Chelsea 86pts GD +55 2 Man Utd 86pts GD +52 3 Arsenal 78pts GD +30 4 Liverpool 73pts GD +22 5 Tottenham 61pts GD +24 6 Everton 57pts GD +18 … 16 West Ham 38pts GD -24 17 Wigan 38pts GD -27 R Sheffield United 37pts GD -24 R Charlton 32pts GD -36 R Watford 28pts GD -30
The two of us watched Match of the Day that night, as we saw the highlights of a fantastic victory, at least, until Dinky fell asleep during the highlights of Everton against Middlesbrough and I went to put her to bed.
As I left her bedroom, I thought ahead to the two finals to come, firstly the FA Cup Final at Wembley and then the Champions League Final in Athens. That evening, however, had been all about celebrating a miraculous defence of the title.
The first FA Cup Final to be played at the New Wembley Stadium was always going to be a talking point, but even more so when the two sides playing turned out to be Chelsea and Everton - largely due to one factor. Armando Fontana had left Stamford Bridge in highly acrimonious circumstances back in January, and Everton was now his seventh club in eight years.
“What were the previous five?” Dinky asked me, on the morning of the final.
“Well, we signed him from Real Madrid, he spent two years there,” I said, “Before that, he was at Milan, and the season before he was in the Juventus side which lost to Milan in the Champions League Final. Before that, he was in the Bayer Leverkusen side which lost the Champions League Final in 2002, and before that he spent two years at PSG.”
I thought of two lines from Derpy's poem.
“How greatly I adore you, how everything I've done, Was just so I could give you your own moment in the sun.”
“Everything he's done at Everton has been solely to get a Champions League side to come calling in the summer,” I continued, “I'm actually amazed that Moyes has allowed it. You know he snubbed Bayern because they only got into the UEFA Cup?”
“It's been a long wait,” Kick Off said, “But after six years away, the FA Cup Final is back at Wembley. In a few hours, the fans of Chelsea and Everton will converge on the stadium for what we hope will be a game to remember…”
“So why are we taking the tube?” Rainbow Dash asked.
“Because there's only one real way to get to Wembley,” I replied, “And you'll find out soon enough.”
The tube train arrived at Wembley Park station and the three of us disembarked. We exited the station and Rainbow Dash’s jaw dropped as she got her first look at Wembley Stadium - and Wembley Way.
The stadium was even more impressive when there were spectators in it, and even to those watching on television, such as Derpy, Twilight and Lyra in the Traveller's Rest, it looked spectacular.
“So, fifteen minutes before we get underway,” Kick Off said, “And as always, we now have the FA Cup Final hymn.”
Almost as one, the crowd in the stadium rose as the two singers began a tradition dating back eighty years.
“Abide with me, fast falls the eventide…”
“FA Cup Final day is always a special day,” Kick Off said, as the two teams walked out onto the pitch, “Especially when the final is back where it belongs, and it's extra special when there's a treble on the line as well.”
“Yes, but there is one man who would just love to spoil it,” Full Time added, “Fontana's departure is well known, and little did Chelsea know that they'd be seeing him again.”
“We'll see how this goes in a moment,” Kick Off continued, “But first, the British national anthem.”
Once again, the crowd stood almost as one.
“God save our gracious Queen, Long live our noble Queen, God save the Queen.
Send her victorious, Happy and glorious, Long to reign over us, God save the Queen!”
And then, the whistle sounded and the FA Cup Final was underway.
Chelsea attacked almost instantly, and it became clear that the Everton defence would be in for a long afternoon. Two minutes into the match, Robben got away down the left, and his cross was cleared by the Everton back line. In the seventh minute, the ball was worked into the box, but Drogba was flagged for offside.
The game then settled down, with Everton beginning to find their feet after Chelsea’s initial salvo. The Blues still looked more likely to score, though, and in the 23rd minute, Drogba was played in by Ballack. The Ivorian was forced wide and sent a cross in looking for Gudjohnsen, but his cross was caught by Howard.
“Well, a little under half an hour gone,” Kick Off said, as Nuno Valente intercepted a pass from Lampard, “But there’s been no real sign of any Everton attack…”
That, however, promptly changed. Just after the half hour, Phil Neville took the ball down the left and managed to outmuscle Essien before crossing into the area. Carvalho headed the ball clear, but Fontana, from 25 yards, managed to lob the ball over Petr Cech to give Everton the lead.
“Oh, look at that!” Kick Off exclaimed, as Derpy looked up at the ceiling and Twilight put a wing around her, “Fantastic goal by Fontana, and has he come back to haunt his former club?”
Chelsea attacked straight from the restart, and Robben got down the left, beating Hibbert before sending in a cross. Drogba’s initial volley was saved by Tim Howard, but he pounced on the volley to equalise almost immediately.
“An instant response from Chelsea!” Kick Off exclaimed, “What a cross from Robben, and Drogba was there to get to the loose ball and level things up immediately! Moyes is furious with his defence for not picking up Drogba, he is a man you cannot afford to give a chance!”
Chelsea had learned from falling behind, and now marked Fontana out of the game, cutting off Everton’s supply lines.
With a minute of the first half left, Robben got down the left again, sending in a cross which Drogba volleyed over the bar.
“We should be in front,” I said, as the teams left the pitch at half time, “We gave Fontana too much space-”
“To be fair, nobody knew he had that in his locker,” Rainbow Dash countered.
“-And that was a golden chance just before the break.”
The second half, however, was marked by staunch defending on the part of both sides. With 25 minutes to go, Mourinho took Makelele off for Joe Cole, looking to increase Chelsea’s attacking options.
“Still nothing separating the two sides with ten minutes remaining,” Kick Off said, “But Everton have had more of the game in these last five minutes, as Osman passes to Arteta…”
Arteta moved the ball back to Phil Neville, who sent in a diagonal cross to Fontana, who fired the ball high over the bar, only to be flagged for offside anyway.
With five minutes left, Joe Cole got down the right, and played in a cross. Drogba controlled the ball, and fired it home from close range to give Chelsea the lead.
“And Drogba has surely won it for Chelsea!” Kick Off shouted, as the Chelsea end erupted, “Didier Drogba, with a close range finish, puts the Blues in front with five minutes to go!”
The last five minutes ticked down almost agonisingly slowly, but with just under two minutes to go, a cross from Osman was caught by Cech, who looked to start a counter. Robben got down the left and sent in another cross to Drogba, who volleyed the ball into the net to secure the game and win the FA Cup.
Chelsea 3-1 Everton (Drogba 33, 85, 90; Fontana 31)
“There goes the final whistle, and Chelsea complete the double!” Kick Off exclaimed, “Didier Drogba scores a hat-trick in the first FA Cup Final at the New Wembley, and Chelsea have the last laugh against their former striker! They’ve won the Premier League, they’ve now won the FA Cup, and there is still the Champions League Final coming up…”
“I reckon that’s the last the Premier League has seen of Fontana, unless Fergie, Rafa or Wenger take leave of their senses,” I said, as the Everton players collected their runners-up medals, “I suspect he’ll go back to Spain, maybe Valencia.”
“And Chelsea, who won the last FA Cup final at the Old Wembley, win the first FA Cup Final at the New Wembley,” Kick Off said, as the Chelsea players lifted the FA Cup, “Their first FA Cup in seven years, Jose Mourinho’s first FA Cup too. It’s part two of the double...it could even be part two of the treble!”
“This is what’s going to happen with the Champions League Final,” I said, as I put Dinky to bed that night, after we’d watched the highlights of the FA Cup Final, “Rainbow Dash will be arriving on Tuesday morning, and we’ll fly out to Athens in the afternoon.”
“At the end of this game, the European Cup will be only six feet away from you, and you'll not even be able to touch it if we lose. And for many of you, that's the closest you will ever get. Don't you dare come back in here without giving your all.” - Sir Alex Ferguson's half time team talk in the 1999 Champions League Final
Tuesday 22nd May
As the British Airways flight headed towards Athens, I cast my mind back to the last eleven and a half months and the unicorn who was currently looking out of the window. Her unexpected arrival at my apartment. Bonding over the World Cup. Watching England get knocked out on penalties, and then Zidane headbutting Materazzi in the final. The trip to Scotland, and then learning about how she might be able to go back home.
Then, the slow start to the Premier League campaign, followed by a good run which had included the victory at Old Trafford and Danny Doyle's debut hat trick at Sheffield United. The two defeats in December which had nearly brought it all crashing down, followed by the last gasp win over Liverpool with ten men. Rainbow Dash lending Derpy her season ticket so that the two could be together at Christmas. That superb run from the beginning of February, including those massive wins at Arsenal and Liverpool. Coming back from two goals down to beat Galatasaray in the Round of 16, before beating Liverpool in the Quarter Finals and winning in the Nou Camp in the semis. Whittling away Manchester United’s lead at the top before snatching the title on the final day of the season, before winning the FA Cup at Wembley. And now, the Champions League Final. This was what it all came down to. If Chelsea won tomorrow night, they would become only the second English club to win the treble, and the Foal Protection Agency would have to uphold their end of the agreement and reunite Dinky with her mother back in Ponyville.
That Morning…
As Rainbow Dash headed for the station to take the train to the British Embassy, she was stopped by a reporter for the Ponyville Times.
“Do you have any comment about tomorrow’s match?” He asked.
“Yeah!” Rainbow Dash replied, “First of all, Derpy, we are going to win tomorrow night, and you and Dinky will be back together before you know it!”
“First of all? Do you have any other messages?”
“Yes. Tomorrow night, Belladonna, when the final whistle goes...run.”
Wednesday 23rd May
The sound of Derpy's radio alarm woke the postmare from her sleep. She couldn't think about the evening yet, there were the day's letters and parcels to deliver.
“Good Morning, and welcome to The Breakfast Show on Ponyville FM. There’s only one thing on the mind of every football fan in Equestria this morning, and that is the Champions League Final tonight between Chelsea and AC Milan…”
All over Equestria, in Neighmouth, Manechester, Trottingham, Coltsborough, Canterlot, Ponyville and many other towns, big screens had been set up to show the match that evening and the weather teams had all agreed that the night would be warm and clear.
An hour and a quarter from the beginning of the match, Derpy opened her door to Twilight and Lyra.
“Ready when you are,” Twilight said.
Derpy took a deep breath, left the house...and was greeted by a storm of cheers and a sea of blue and white. The whole of the Equestria Blues had come to Ponyville to watch the match at Rainbow Dash’s request.
“Ready?” I asked, as we prepared to leave our hotel room for the match.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Dinky replied.
Rainbow Dash, quaking like a leaf, barely nodded.
It had almost been like a procession as Derpy, flanked by Twilight and Lyra, had been cheered all the way from her house to the big screen, and was shown to perhaps the best space in the town square.
“Welcome to the Olympic Stadium in Athens,” Kick Off said, “And the fans of Chelsea and AC Milan both believe that this is their year. Chelsea were simply majestic in their semi final, beating Barcelona home and away, whilst Milan did just enough to beat Manchester United on away goals. A game with so many potential match-winners. Frank Lampard, Kaka, Michael Ballack, Andrea Pirlo, Didier Drogba, Alberto Gilardino. Can Chelsea win the European Cup for the first time in their history and complete a historic treble? Or will Milan exorcise the ghost of Istanbul?”
It seemed as though the town had pulled out all the stops. Pinkie Pie had made, and was serving, a huge number of cupcakes which, rather than the usual extravagant frosting, were decorated with either an iced Champions League trophy or the competition’s “Starball” logo, while Berry Punch and her daughter served up drinks - Berry Punch handling the alcohol, with Ruby serving the soft drinks.
“It all comes down to this,” Kick Off said, as the teams walked onto the pitch, “The UEFA Champions League Final. Winning it would cap off an amazing season for Chelsea, after all their domestic success, but Milan have unfinished business against English opposition.”
Dinky had been to all of Chelsea's home matches in the Champions League, as well as the Nou Camp, but she was awestruck by the occasion as the teams lined up for the anthem. Even Rainbow Dash was amazed.
Chelsea went on the attack almost from the beginning, and Robben forced a throw-in. Lampard crossed the ball into the area, only for Alessandro Nesta to head the ball clear.
Milan's first real attack came in the twelfth minute. Kaka, Milan's Brazilian playmaker, sent a long ball into the area, and Gilardino connected, heading the ball straight at Cech.
Seven minutes later, Milan attacked down the right. Full back Massimo Oddo sent a diagonal cross into the area before Robben could challenge, and Gilardino sent a header past Cech to give Milan the lead.
“First blood to the Italians!” Kick Off exclaimed, as groans broke out among the crowd in Ponyville, “Superb header by Gilardino, but Robben will be kicking himself for not closing Oddo down!”
Robben looked to make amends, and in the 24th minute he got down the left before sending in a cross, which was caught by Dida in the Milan goal.
With half an hour gone, Robben got down the left again. This time his cross did connect, but Drogba, having beaten Nesta in the air, headed just over the bar.
Three minutes later, Essien intercepted a pass, and played the ball to Ballack. Ballack then passed to Drogba who, forced out wide, took the ball down the right and crossed into the area, where Gudjohnsen powered a header past Dida.
“And Chelsea are level!” Kick Off announced, as the Chelsea end erupted and Rainbow Dash suddenly found her bravado, “Superb header by Gudjohnsen, and that's been coming for the last ten minutes!”
The match then entered a rather tentative phase which lasted into the second half, as both sides’ defenders hoofed the ball downfield whenever it got near the area. The best chance of that phase came in the 54th minute, when Gattuso saw a shot saved by Cech.
Just after the halfway point in the second half, a cross from the right was deflected behind for a Chelsea corner. Lampard’s corner was met by the head of Carvalho, who headed the ball just over.
Chelsea then began to take control as the match entered the last ten minutes, and with ten minutes left, Drogba got into the area, but saw his shot tipped wide as Nesta and Maldini forced him away from goal.
Three minutes later, a Milan attack broke down when a pass was intercepted by Makelele. Makelele then set up Lampard, who played it to Robben out wide. Robben got down the left and sent a diagonal ball into the area, where Drogba, holding off Nesta, Maldini and Pirlo, chested the ball down before bending a swerving shot past the outstretched hand of Dida and into the net.
“Oh, that is wonderful from Drogba! An absolutely brilliant goal, from an absolutely brilliant player!” Kick Off exclaimed, as Drogba raced to the corner flag before being mobbed by his teammates, while a wall of sound emanated from Ponyville’s town square, “Chelsea, who were behind in the title race, behind in the FA Cup Final, and behind tonight, are now just seven minutes away from The Treble!”
In Ponyville, Derpy kept one eye on the clock in the top left corner of the screen. In the Olympic Stadium in Athens, Dinky and Rainbow Dash did the same. Six minutes. Five. Four and a half…
A long ball out from Dida found Gattuso, who got past Ashley Cole before going for goal from outside the area, only to send the ball high and wide of the goal.
“The ninety minutes are up, three minutes of stoppage time indicated,” Kick Off said, as Derpy took a deep breath. Meanwhile, Milan had regained possession, and Maldini had launched the ball long upfield.
“Two minutes of added time left,” Kick Off said, “Chelsea can almost reach out and touch the trophy, but they’ve got to hold firm, as it’s Clarence Seedorf with this free kick…”
A huge number of spectators, both human and pony, held their breaths.
“Floated into the box, Kaka with the header...saved, almost on the line, by Cech! And Carvalho hacks the ball clear, but what a vital save that was!”
“Almost there…” I muttered, as the match entered the final minute of added time.
“I reckon it’s time,” Kick Off said, “The Chelsea fans are probably checking their watches. Mourinho’s looking at his watch. The referee has looked at his watch twice...and there it is!”
Chelsea 2-1 AC Milan (Gudjohnsen 33, Drogba 83; Gilardino 19)
“They’ve done it!” Kick off yelled, as the players in blue all celebrated, “2007 Premier League winners, 2007 FA Cup winners, and now, 2007 Champions League winners! They have had an incredible season! Heartache for AC Milan, once again they lose to English opposition in a Champions League Final...”
I felt something hit my side and looked down to see an ecstatic Rainbow Dash attempting to hug me while Dinky, wide-eyed, looked down at the pitch where the celebrations were now getting underway in earnest.
“...I didn’t think they were going to do it a few months ago.” Full Time said.
“Well, who predicted that this would happen when Fontana clashed with Terry at St James’ Park?” Kick Off said, “Who thought this would happen when Galatasaray went two goals up at Stamford Bridge? But time and time again Chelsea came back. They overturned an eleven point deficit in the title race, they came back to beat Galatasaray, they beat Barcelona in the Nou Camp in the semi finals. And now, they take their place in European Football's Hall of Fame. They join Manchester United in the promised land, the second English club to win the treble…”
Derpy looked up at the screen, while the Equestria Blues celebrated behind her. Amazingly, Belladonna’s gambit had failed. Chelsea had won the treble, and she was going to get her Muffin back.
...she was going to get her Muffin back…
...She was going to get her Muffin back!
“You know,” Twilight said to nopony in particular, “I never thought I’d see another English team win the tre-” she was suddenly knocked flat on her back, and looked up to see Derpy sporting a smile that even Pinkie Pie wouldn’t have managed while tears streamed down her face.
“WE DID IT, TWILIGHT!” she yelled, “WE DID IT, WE ACTUALLY DID IT!”
“...the famous European Cup,” Kick Off said, as the Chelsea players prepared to lift their prize, “The huge trophy, lifted by so many great players down the years, which means that they are Champions of Europe!”
There would be time to sort everything out later, I thought, as we eventually left the stadium. Right now, it was time to celebrate.
As the Chelsea players on the big screen lifted the Champions League trophy, Derpy made no attempt to wipe away the tears of joy which were still streaming down her face. The raucous celebrations behind her subsequently contrasted to the following scenes on the big screen, where Big Match, Kick Off and Full Time were going over the events of the game with a fine toothed comb.
"Hey!" Pinkie Pie shouted suddenly, "You know what this calls for? A party!" She then produced her trademark party cannon and fired, producing a stream of blue confetti and causing Blue is the Colour to start playing.
"Come on, Derpy," Twilight said, "This is just as much your party as it is theirs," she indicated the Equestria Blues, who were breaking out into a chorus of "Championes, Championes, ole, ole, ole".
Amidst all of this, Lyra was attempting to juggle getting caught up in the party and making arrangements.
"So, the trophy parade will be on Saturday, will it?" she asked one of the Chelsea supporters, who nodded, "That sounds ideal. If Derpy goes with Rainbow Dash and comes back with Dinky, can you arrange a party before they come back?"
"Sure thing!" Pinkie said, producing a notepad from her mane and writing something in it before Lyra was dragged away by Bon Bon. Meanwhile, Derpy found herself the centre of attention, receiving hugs from practically every pony in town, being plied with soft cider by a half-ecstatic, half-crying Ruby Pinch, and being given an entire plate of Pinkie's "Champions League Final cupcakes".
"You know," Lyra said to Twilight, as the two of them took a breather, "A huge weight is going to be lifted from my mind tomorrow." Twilight raised an eyebrow, but decided not to push the issue further.
"And so, another season comes to an end," Big Match said, as the program concluded, "And what a season it has been, one that will be talked about not just in South West London, but all over the world for a long time to come. We'll be back next season, but from all of us on Sport 1, goodnight, and have a very good summer." The Champions League anthem then played in full as highlights of the competition were shown, whilst in Ponyville, Athens and London, the parties lasted long into the night.
Thursday 24th May
“Look at that…”
I yawned and rolled over, realising that I was still wearing my replica Chelsea shirt from the previous night; just as Rainbow Dash, who was fast asleep, was still wearing hers. Dinky, meanwhile, was looking out of the window, as the sun began to rise over Athens.
“It's too early…” I mumbled.
“It's beautiful.”
“I know you're excited, Dinks, and I appreciate the symbolism and all,” Rainbow Dash yawned, “But it's six o'clock in the morning. Go back to sleep.”
Dinky reluctantly did so.
Derpy looked at the letter that Lyra had given her, written in the exact same writing as the letter that had brought her world crashing down around her almost exactly a year ago.
“Dear Ms Hooves,
Congratulations! With the increasing competitiveness of the Premier League, I never thought another English side would win The Treble. More importantly, in recent weeks, new information regarding your case has come to light; information which was not only withheld from me at the time, but also over the past year…”
Thursday 3rd May
Autumn walked through the corridors of the Foal Protection Agency as she headed back to her office. She didn't see the point of weekly caseworker meetings, but as head caseworker she felt that she had to set a good example.
As she idly thought about asking Lyra if she wanted to go to The Two Princesses for lunch, she heard a commotion coming from a nearby office.
“That’s what your fellow caseworkers have all said,” came a voice which Autumn didn't recognise, “That a lazy eye and sometimes speaking too quickly doesn't impact on a pony's qualifications as a parent.”
"But she was deemed mentally unfit-"
"I spoke to the psychiatrist," the voice continued, "He told me that he never evaluated her. I checked his records and he was telling the truth."
“Well, there must have been something,” the caseworker said, wilting under the gaze of a blue unicorn stallion wearing a red bowtie and a pair of glasses. “Otherwise no action would have been taken.”
“There was something,” the stallion said, “This letter, which Ms Heartstrings passed to me, was written by one of the foals at Ponyville Primary School, who on Friday overheard your boss boasting about how she'd concocted evidence to make it seem like immediate action needed to be taken…”
“Wait,” Autumn thought, “Concocted evidence? Then that means...that means…Oh, Derpy, Dinky, I am so, so sorry…”
And then, she realised something. All those visitation forms which had gone missing. The attempt to get Ruby taken away.
“Excuse me,” she said, walking into the office, “But, Mr-”
“One Truth, private investigator,” the stallion replied.
“I have information that you might want to hear.”
Some time later, Autumn entered her office as One Truth and Lyra followed her.
“Right,” she said, “This is perhaps the sixth time I’ve tried to get Ms Hooves granted visitation rights. Every one before - even the one I gave directly to the visitation team - has gone missing. None of them has made it back to me to be sent off to London.”
“Right then,” One Truth said, and looked intently at it before his horn lit up and caused the form to briefly glow.
“A tracking spell,” he explained, as Autumn placed the form in the internal post trolley, “Now, we’ve set the bait.”
“So, how long do you reckon it’ll take until you have a watertight case?” Autumn asked.
“With the evidence you gave, it can be moved forward to three weeks from today. But,” he continued, "This has to be kept quiet. Belladonna will likely scarper if she finds out."
“That’s the day after the Champions League Final…” Lyra tailed off, as the radio reported on the previous night’s match.
“Chelsea are dreaming of the treble after last night’s win in the Nou Camp…” Breaking News said, as the radio then repeated Kick Off’s commentary.
“Free kick to Chelsea in Frank Lampard territory. A pivotal moment in this semi final second leg. Half an hour to go, it’s one-all on the night, four-two to Chelsea on aggregate. It’s Lampard to take...oh, superb free kick! Frank Lampard has surely put Chelsea into the Champions League Final!”
Thursday 24th May
“There were scenes of jubilation last night as Chelsea lifted the European Cup for the first time in their history to complete the treble. A late goal from Didier Drogba won the match after Eidur Gudjohnsen had cancelled out Gilardino's header in the first half…”
Autumn heard a knock at the door to her office, and opened it to find One Truth flanked by two constables.
“Let’s go.” he said.
Autumn nodded, and, joined by Lyra, headed down the corridor.
“Don’t you know to kno-” Belladonna began, before being cut off by one of the constables.
“Belladonna Nightshade, I am arresting you on suspicion of misconduct in a public office and perverting the course of justice. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention anything…”
Autumn waited until the constable had finished before making her announcement.
“And one more thing,” she said, as the two constables led Belladonna out of her office, “You’re sacked.”
“...the pony responsible was arrested and her employment terminated this morning, and I will shortly be taking steps to ensure that such a state of affairs does not happen again. I cannot begin to express how sorry I am for what you and your daughter had to go through.
Yours sincerely,
Autumn Scamper
Acting Director (previously head caseworker)
Equestrian Foal Protection Agency
“Hello, Lyra,” I said, as she greeted me on the other end of the line, shortly after we’d arrived back from the airport.
“I was ringing to arrange the handover,” Lyra said, “Obviously with the result of the match last night - I’d ask if you enjoyed it, but that’s probably academic.”
“The handover? Well, how does Saturday sound?” I asked, “That’s when the trophy parade is; so if Derpy was to accompany Rainbow Dash, Dinky would be able to go back with them without having to go through the embassy.”
“That sounds fine by me.” Lyra answered.
Friday 25th May
“Two of The Treble, please,” I said, as we were served at Goalato. The ice cream duly arrived, with one flavour in each of the three containers which were shaped like the Premier League trophy, the FA Cup and the Champions League Trophy respectively.
“I’m actually going to miss this place,” Dinky said, digging a spoonful of honeycomb crunch out of the miniature FA Cup.
“Given the popularity of football in Equestria, it won’t surprise me if they start opening up over there,” I replied. “Mind you, they’re looking at Wembley and Old Trafford first.”
In Ponyville, Derpy finished putting fresh sheets on a bed that had been untouched for almost a year. One more day...
Saturday 26th May
It was safe to say that there was a carnival atmosphere on Eel Brook Common. A big screen showed every goal Chelsea had scored that season, while numerous humans and ponies waited for the open-topped buses to pass. There was even a zeppelin hovering in the air.
After what seemed like an eternity, a huge roar went up from further down the road, getting louder and louder as the buses approached, passing by as the first team players and Jose Mourinho waved, with the trophies being held aloft for all to see.
Some time later, back at the flat, Lyra’s mobile phone went off, and she looked at it.
“We’re good to go,” she said.
“Well,” I said, as I knelt down to give Dinky one last hug, “It looks like you really are going home.”
“Thank you so much for looking after my Muffin,” Derpy said, as she then gave me a hug.
“See you next season.” That was Rainbow Dash.
Dinky barely had time to register the fact that she had returned to Ponyville, or that a massive party had been arranged to celebrate her return, before she was literally bowled over by Ruby Pinch - she was certain that Ruby was crying - before being mobbed by the rest of her classmates, giving her an impression of what Ballack and Drogba must have experienced after their heroics against Galatasaray and winning goal against Milan respectively.
I circled the date that the next Premier League season would start on the calendar, before walking over to the window and looking out over the London skyline, lit up against the night sky. Whilst I did so, I thought about the events of the past season, and the unicorn who was now back in Ponyville.
Would I miss her? Absolutely, but she should never have been in London to begin with. Lyra had told me everything, and how the former director of the Foal Protection Agency was now facing trial and a long stretch inside if found guilty.
The ringing of the telephone shook me from my thoughts, making me realise that I’d been humming the theme from the film Local Hero for the past minute. I walked over and picked it up.
When played in its entirety, the UEFA Champions League Anthem contains the words “un grand reunion”. And that night, in Ponyville, a grey pegasus and her daughter enjoyed a grand reunion of their own. The two of them fell asleep cuddled up to each other, knowing that they were together again, and that was how it would stay.
As Dinky left her room and headed downstairs, she thought about the events that had occurred since her return home.
Saturday 26th May
Dinky finished putting the last of her items in her bedroom, which had not changed since she'd last slept in it nearly a year ago, and went back down to the sitting room. She realised, as she entered, that Derpy was talking on the telephone, and caught snatches of the conversation.
“...just out of interest, when do season tickets go on sale? Beginning of June? Well, I’ll speak to Dinky about it tomorrow and ring you back.”
On the other end of the line, I put the phone down. It seemed that Derpy really had enjoyed her trip to Stamford Bridge back in December.
At any rate, I’d still be keeping in touch with Dinky, just as I still kept in touch with Lyra after my family had hosted her as part of the exchange program.
Sunday 27th May
“Right then, so it’s one renewal, and one new one,” I said, as I jotted down the details, “In that case, I’ll sort it out when they go on sale next Monday. And the trip to Wales? That’s after the end of the school year...I don’t see why not. After all, I’m sure you could do with a break after everything that happened. Anyway, I’ve got to go, the doorbell’s just gone.”
I walked over to the door to discover a pony from the embassy with another pony I didn’t recognise.
“Sorry to bother you, Mr Spencer,” the embassy pony said, “But there’s something we need to discuss with you. May we come in?”
“As you know, Belladonna Nightshade was arrested last week,” said the other pony a few minutes later, having introduced himself as Habeas Corpus, “And her trial is due to begin the week after next. As you took care of Dinky Hooves for eleven and a half months, we were wondering if you would be able to give evidence.”
“I do have something,” I said, and I went to the study to retrieve it.
“This letter, signed by Belladonna, was given to me when Dinky arrived here,” I said, a minute later, “It effectively told me to get rid of her old identity; change her surname, make sure she knew that she was my daughter now - which sounds pretty ridiculous when you think about it - and effectively shut Derpy out of her daughter’s life. I found it to be extremely cruel, and Dinky managed to see it and it really upset her.”
“And what did you do?”
“I told Dinky that I wouldn’t be giving Belladonna the time of day as she had no jurisdiction in Britain, and that if she tried to order me around I’d report her to the British Embassy in Canterlot. In addition, I got Rainbow Dash to lend Derpy her season ticket for Chelsea’s home game against Reading, meaning that the two of them were together for Christmas.”
“Well, I think we’ve got what we need,” Habeas Corpus said, “Please report to the Equestrian Embassy next Tuesday to give evidence via audiolink.”
Friday 16th June
“All will rise.”
Derpy and Dinky both stood as the jury returned from deliberation. Belladonna, standing in the dock, occasionally glared at them.
At the beginning of the week, another letter had arrived from the Foal Protection Agency, telling them the date on which the trial would conclude. In it, Autumn had said that while it was their choice, going to see the verdict being delivered might offer closure.
Of course, that wasn’t the end of their business with the Foal Protection Services. The agency would be going on trial itself in September as a result of Belladonna’s actions, and there was serious talk of a large damages payment.
The trial had lasted two weeks, and Derpy and Dinky had both given evidence. Autumn, Lyra and several employees of the agency had also given evidence, as had Dinky’s guardian via audiolink from the Embassy in London. Even Blueblood had given evidence - as Equestria’s ambassador to the United Kingdom, he’d spent a month dealing with the fallout from Dinky’s relocation to London, and had been summoned to 10 Downing Street the day after it had happened.
For those following the case through the news, a guilty verdict looked inevitable - although Autumn had also said that even if Belladonna was found not guilty, she’d still been blacklisted from any government position higher than cleaner or cafeteria worker.
“Have you reached a verdict on which all of you are agreed?” the judge asked.
“We have, your honour.”
“On the charge of perverting the course of justice, do you find the defendant guilty, or not guilty?”
There was a pause. Then-
“Guilty.”
“And on the charge of misconduct in a public office, do you find the defendant guilty, or not guilty?”
Another pause. Then-
“Guilty.”
“Belladonna Nightshade,” the judge said, “We have heard, in this court, about how you used your authority to cause almost a year of untold misery for a mother and her daughter and gambled with their happiness. We have heard how you damaged Equestria’s relationship with the United Kingdom, and how you sabotaged your employee’s attempts to allow Ms Hooves to see her daughter. You believed that as a high-ranking public servant, as you were so fond of saying, you could do as you pleased, but you had a duty to serve the public, just as I, as a high-ranking public servant, do - and it is a duty I would be failing in if I did not impose a suitable sentence. Therefore, for the crimes of which you have been convicted, I sentence you to thirty years in prison.”
“Yes!” Derpy shouted.
“That will do, Ms Hooves,” the judge said.
“Don’t get too comfortable,” Belladonna snarled, “You haven’t seen the last of me. I’ll be back, and when I am I’ll see to it that you and your daughter are separated for good! Make the most of your time together, because I can assure you, it won’t last…”
As Belladonna continued to rant, Dinky looked on in anger. After all she’d put the two of them through, she had the nerve to say such things? She opened her mouth to protest, but Derpy got there first.
Unbeknownst to Derpy, something had stirred inside her when Drogba had scored against Liverpool back in December, and it had only increased after Christmas and as the football season had reached its conclusion. And now, she became aware of it.
“Oh, go and boil your head, you contemptible nag!” she retorted, “It’s over! I win, you lose, I have my muffin back, and you’re going to prison! You won’t be able to do anything to us again, not today, not tomorrow, not ever!”
“Ms Hooves,” the judge said, “Another outburst and I’m afraid that I will have to ask you to leave the courtroom!”
“Don’t worry, Your Honour,” Derpy replied, “I’ve said my piece. Let’s go, Dinky.”
The two of them walked out of the courtroom as Belladonna was carted off to prison.
Saturday 28th July
Dinky looked at the five new photos adorning her chest of drawers. Each of them showed her and her mother hugging in front of a narrow-gauge steam locomotive on five different railways - The Ffestiniog, the Welsh Highland, the Talyllyn, the Welshpool and Llanfair and the Vale of Rheidol. Her former guardian had taken them around Wales for a week, and to all the famous little railways. He had, in fact, begun organising the holiday in March, when Manchester United had still held a nine-point lead in the title race.
In his home in Coltsborough, Kick Off picked up the list of TV Fixtures on the kitchen table and took it into his study. The season would be starting soon, and he now knew the first games that he’d be covering.
Sunday 12th August
I accepted a hug from each of the three ponies as we met up outside the entrance to the apartment block. After a long wait, the Premier League season had finally returned. Gone were Watford, Charlton and Sheffield United, relegated at the end of the previous season. Replacing them were Sunderland, Birmingham City and Derby County, and Chelsea were starting the defence of their title at home to Birmingham.
“So, who do you think will be relegated?” Rainbow Dash asked.
“I’m going to say Sunderland, Birmingham, and one of Wigan, West Ham or Derby,” I replied.
Last season, with all its success, drama and eventual euphoria, was history, although it would live long in the memory of football fans for years to come. The four of us, with Dinky on Derpy’s back, set off for the match, laughing and joking with each other. A new season was underway, and all the hopes and dreams and expectations which went with it.
As for certain other parties...
In September 2007, the Foal Protection Agency were fined 1.5 million bits for the numerous ethics and transparency violations committed by Belladonna during her stint as director. They were also ordered to pay Derpy Hooves 5 million bits in damages. In a subsequent interview with Equestria Daily, Autumn Scamper admitted that it would take years for public confidence in the Foal Protection Services to be restored.
Autumn Scamper was herself criticised by the Ministry of Social Affairs in their inquiry into the events of June 2006, as they concluded that, had she checked the evidence given to her to ensure whether or not it was genuine, Dinky would not have been taken away. The ministry also ruled that the Foal Protection Agency were to appoint an official to ensure that all future cases were handled correctly and all ethics and transparency regulations were adhered to.
Lyra Heartstrings received a bunch of flowers and a basket of freshly-baked muffins (placed under a permanent freshness spell by Twilight) from Derpy, as a thank you present for the emotional support she'd received while separated from Dinky.
Spoiled Rich was charged with failing to report a crime, and was tried the week before Belladonna. She threw Belladonna under the proverbial bus, and was ordered to carry out 250 hours of unpaid work at the Ponyville Post Office. She was also sent to Coventry by the rest of Ponyville when it was revealed that she was the pony who'd expressed concern about Derpy to Belladonna.
Armando Fontana left Everton in July 2007, moving to Valencia for £7,000,000. Most Evertonians, Sweetie Belle included, were delighted to see the back of him.
Credits in order of appearance Claire Corlett - Dinky Hooves and Sweetie Belle Ashleigh Ball - Lyra Heartstrings and Rainbow Dash Tabitha St Germain - Derpy Hooves, Rarity and Berry Punch Tara Strong - Twilight Sparkle and Autumn Scamper Imelda Staunton - Belladonna Nightshade Vincent Tong - Prince Blueblood, Embassy pony, Habeas Corpus and Judge Tim Lovejoy - Himself Jonathan Pearce - Kick Off and himself Madeleine Peters - Scootaloo Andy Gray - Full Time Gary Lineker - Big Match Ray Stubbs - Himself Simon Brotherton - Himself Clive Tyldesley - Himself and Free Kick Steve Rider - Himself Jose Mourinho - Himself Saffron Henderson - Aunt Lofty Jackie Blackmore - Aunt Holiday Mark Chapman - Breaking News and Radio announcer/commentator Mark Pougatch - Himself Peter Capaldi - James Alexander Gordon Andrea Libman - Pinkie Pie and unnamed FPA caseworker Anthony McPartlin - Toon Army Equestria co-chair John Motson - Himself and Equestrian Radio commentator Martin Tyler - Himself Andy Townsend - Offside David Tennant - Ponyville Times reporter and unnamed Constable Jerry Jewell - One Truth
Life in Ponyville had gradually gotten back to normal after Dinky returned. Things had settled down again, with Dinky returning to school; although her friends - Ruby Pinch in particular - had spent much of half term hugging her as tightly as they could in case she was suddenly taken back to London - or anywhere else in Britain, for that matter. However, fears of such a thing were abated by the lengthy prison sentence given to Belladonna. The sentence also repaired British-Equestrian relations, which had been somewhat damaged when Dinky had been sent to London a year previously.
The school day was over, and Dinky was on her way back home. That was how it had all started; that fateful day when she’d come home from school and found her mother throwing her a birthday party four months early. She quickly shook the thought from her mind; it was something neither she nor her mother liked to think about, even though it was what the general public currently associated with the Foal Protection Services. She started thinking about football instead; her next trip to Stamford Bridge, for the match between Chelsea and Manchester City, wouldn’t be until the weekend after next due to the Euro 2008 qualifiers. A win would be vital; Manchester City, now with former England boss Sven-Goran Ericsson at the helm, sat just behind Chelsea in 4th, with Liverpool and Newcastle also breathing down their necks.
As she entered through the front door, she overheard snatches of a phone conversation.
“Yes...tomorrow off…birthday party…”
She felt her stomach tighten; that was how it had started. But the Foal Protection Agency now had an official ensuring it couldn’t happen again. Besides, it would be her birthday tomorrow. She decided to make herself a cup of tea, and walked into the kitchen. A piece of paper on the kitchen table caught her eye and, as her heart rate increased, she brought it over, almost dreading what it might say…
“Equestrian Foal Protection Agency, Starswirl Road, Canterlot, CL1 2BK Pay to MS DERPY HOOVES the sum of FIVE MILLION BITS Memo DAMAGES PAYMENT…”
Dinky's sigh of relief could be heard on the other side of Ponyville. She'd completely forgotten about the Foal Protection Agency facing charges themselves.
"So what does this mean, Mommy?" Dinky asked, during supper that evening. "Are you going to stop working?"
"Of course not, Muffin," Derpy replied, "Too many ponies - and people, for that matter - get into a large amount of money and end up spending it all in a ridiculously short space of time. It's going in the bank, but we will be able to live more comfortably. Besides, where would Ponyville be without their postmare?"
When Dinky went to bed that night, she made sure to treasure the goodnight kiss Derpy gave her, just as she'd treasured every one of them since returning to Ponyville.
Tuesday 9th October
“Happy Birthday, Muffin,” Derpy said, as Dinky entered the kitchen to be greeted by cereal, pancakes and egg on toast. A few cards had also come for her in the post, including two from London; one from her former guardian, the other from the foals at the embassy. She opened one, and recognised Lyra's writing.
"Dear Dinky, Happy birthday! I hope you have a fantastic day, and please find enclosed a little something from myself, Bon Bon, and a few of the ponies at work."
Dinky's attention was drawn to the large bar of chocolate that the card had been resting on. She wasn't sure if it made up for being separated from her mother for almost a year, but Lyra hadn't been responsible for that and it was still thoughtful. She then read the remainder of the card.
"I thought you might like to know that our not-so-glorious former leader's pension pot was investigated and our suspicions were confirmed; she stole a significant amount from agency funds. Naturally, we thought it would be only fair to use it for part of the amount that the court awarded your mother in damages. All the best, Lyra.”
Autumn walked through the main concourse of Trottingham station, cleaning smuts from her train's Royal Scot locomotive off her glasses as she joined the queue for the taxis.
"Where to, madam?" A taxi driver asked, when she eventually reached the front of the queue.
"Shirewood Prison," she replied.
The prison stood on the outskirts of the town, next to the forest which gave it its name. It cut a drab and forbidding figure next to the leafy green trees.
Autumn made her way through the entrance and sat down at a table while a guard went to get her former boss. The two then glared at each other before Autumn finally spoke.
"Six and a half million bits," she said, "Six. And a half. Million. Bits. That," she continued, "is how much your little stunt cost us. A fine of one and a half million, and five million in damages."
"It was the right thing to d-" Belladonna began, but Autumn cut her off.
"You made up evidence so that Dinky would be taken away - which is supposed to be done only as an absolute last resort, you caused an international incident with Britain and undermined my work as head caseworker, just to keep her and her mother apart, and you tried to repeat your stunt to settle a petty grudge. How in Equestria was that the right thing to do?”
Belladonna opened her mouth to speak, but Autumn cut her off again.
“Actually, don’t answer that. You’d probably spout some long-discredited theory from the human world about purity or some other rubbish. Well, thanks to you, the Foal Protection Agency’s reputation is going to be in the gutter for several years. Every TV and radio comedian is making the same joke about us hiring the Child Catcher from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, and public confidence in us - which, by the way, this service needs at all times - is at an all-time low. It’s going to be years before ponies trust us again, all because of you.”
She exhaled, as if she’d wanted to say that for a very long time.
“Did you come here just to moan, or did you actually have something to say?” Belladonna sneered.
“You’re unbelievable,” Autumn snorted, rolling her eyes, “But yes, I do have one more thing to say. When the ministry made us appoint that official, the first thing she did was take a look at that pension pot of yours.”
Belladonna visibly stiffened. Autumn pressed on.
“As it transpires, it was far more than someone employed in your position should have had; I mean, it was just under thirty times the amount that I’ve amassed from my fifteen years at the agency. As she found out, two and a half million bits went from agency funds into your pension pot.”
Autumn smiled sweetly and got up from her seat, before continuing.
“The courts, when they heard our request, allowed us to confiscate the lot - seeing as you’re no longer in employment with us - and use it as part of Ms Hooves’ damages payment. So effectively, we had you pay her three of the five million bits awarded to her by the courts.”
She registered the look of outrage on her former boss's face, before finishing.
"Now if you don’t mind - and even if you do - I have a train to catch. If I ever have to see you again, it'll be much too soon. Goodbye."
And with that, she returned to the reception to phone for a taxi.
“I hope I’m not calling at an inconvenient time?” I asked, as the phone was picked up on the other end.
“Hi George! No, it’s not inconvenient at all,” Dinky said on the other end of the line.
“In that case, Happy Birthday, Dinky. Did you like the present I gave you?” I asked, referring to the large photograph of the split second before Drogba’s shot in the final against Milan found the net, and the poster of the Chelsea team lifting the European Cup.
“I sure did! Especially since they remind me of the moment I realised that I was finally going back home,” she replied.
"It's just a shame that I have to wait two weeks before I see you again, what with the Euro 2008 qualifiers next weekend," I said.
"What do England need to do to qualify, again?" Dinky asked.
"Beat Estonia and Russia and I think that's enough," I replied, "After that, there's one more game against Croatia in a month's time."
"So where are you going this time?" Dinky asked. As I didn't care much for international breaks, I'd used those weekends to take her to preserved railways, such as the Bluebell, the Mid-Hants, and even ones further afield like the Isle of Wight, the Great Central and the Severn Valley.
“Nowhere, actually,” I replied, “Lyra’s coming to visit for the weekend on Thursday, she told me she wanted to see the New Wembley in all its glory.”
“Lyra sent me a card today,” Dinky said, “She told me that Belladonna stole a lot of money for her pension and it was confiscated to help pay us damages. Serves her right.”
“Can’t disagree with that,” I replied, “Still, she’s got 29 and a half years to spend thinking about her actions. Maybe she might have a slither of decency when she gets out.”
“Even if she doesn’t, everypony will know what she did,” Dinky said, before I heard Derpy’s voice calling for her, “Anyway, looks like I’ve got to go. We’ll see you a week on Saturday, bye!”
I put the phone down and sat down on the sofa before switching the TV on and seeing what was on. Although I did miss Dinky, I still saw her every time Chelsea were at home, and she belonged in Ponyville with her mother anyway; I'd seen firsthand how much the two meant to each other and trying to keep them apart wasn't right - which said a lot about Belladonna that she'd sabotaged her employees for the sole purpose of doing just that.
Still, as the old saying went, all was well that ended well. Derpy and Dinky were back together, and as a result, Dinky was a happy little unicorn.
