Proud Man Walking

Three days later, and we had another friendly at Watford. Another win, and in terms of the scoreline an even more convincing one since we put four past them: Forssell, Hasselbaink, an own goal, and, finally, Duff. The boys were understandably a little tired after the work we had been doing, having trained twice the day before, morning and afternoon, but generally speaking their physical condition was very good, and the squad was taking shape as I wanted – indeed as we had all hoped, me and my staff, and the management. One particularly important aspect of the game against Watford was that we had Manu Petit back too, after the operation he underwent during the summer. Here is a player few can match for character, and for his influence on the field. He has won so much in his career, always leading from the front, and I know that if he stays fit, if I make the best use of him physically and psychologically, he can make a difference to this team. He only came on for 20 minutes to replace Lampard, but it was a significant return nonetheless.

For me and for the team, all this was a stimulus to be converted into success. For the press, it was a pressure situation. Pressure? Pressure is what I had at the start of my career with Campania Puteolana, when there was not enough money to pay wages, and unsavoury-looking types would be seen hovering around the ground. Pressure is something the Italian press know how to generate, when thirty or so journalists from newspapers, radio, commercial and network TV turn up at the training ground every day. When the fans are heavily opposed to what you are doing. When you are expected to get results while your club chairman is selling players instead of buying them. All this is pressure, but there is no pressure in having a team full of medal winners at your disposal and a chairman like Roman Abramovich who (on the basis of everything that had happened so far, obviously) always had a positive attitude and continued to bring in fabulous players. In any event, I knew well enough that a good start was needed, especially if we were to avoid idle rumours springing up from outside. And a good start meant doing well in our first two away games: the Champions League qualifying round, and the opening Premiership fixture at Anfield.

We knew our objectives, the difficulties we would face in pursuing them, and how we intended to go about things. We knew all our Premiership opponents. What we did not know yet was who we would be facing in our first Champions League fixture. So, because I prefer to leave nothing – but nothing – to chance, the next day I went over to Budapest to watch the match between Zilina and Maccabi Tel Aviv. The Israelis had more to their game, but allowed their opponents too much space. The Slovaks were better organized and quick on the counterattack. The fixture was being played at a neutral venue and this probably helped Zilina, who in securing a draw were the surprise winners of the tie. So now we knew who our opponents would be. For my part, and with all due respect, I had seen enough to know that if we avoided doing anything silly we would go through to the group stages. This was the same day that the signings of Joe Cole and Seba Veron were announced. Could I sleep more easily now?

More training, and then I was off on another trip. That Saturday, Liverpool were entertaining Valencia, and for me this was an occasion not to be missed. The excuse – a perfect one – was to take a look at the Reds, who we would be playing the week afterwards in the first fixture of the new Premiership season. In reality I was killing two birds with one stone, as they say, since it was also a chance to see my former club Valencia again. Ah yes, the best wish I can make for myself is that when looking back some day, the memories of my time in London will be as happy as those of the time spent at the Mestalla Stadium. The Valencia job was something that happened almost by chance, when I rather set off into the unknown to replace Jorge Valdano, who had been sacked (and who now, of course, is general manager at Real Madrid and one of the most influential men in football). It turned out to be one of the most wonderful experiences of my career, and of my life. The club, but more especially the people of Valencia, captured my heart. Life can be magically unpredictable and irrational, but for whatever reason, they took to me straight away (and perhaps it was fate that led me to return to them). True enough, we won only a Spanish Cup while I was there for my first spell, but for a footballing town that had won nothing for so long, it was a significant success. I initiated the policy of loaning young players out to pick up experience in the lower divisions, just as I ended up doing at Chelsea. I did this, for example, with youngsters like Albelda, Gerard and Curro Torres, who were to return a few years later as key components of the subsequent La Liga-winning side. They appreciated at Valencia that I had laid the foundations for a new era at the club, and I have always regretted not having stayed longer the first time to reap what I had sown. I left because of a misunderstanding with the club. I had the feeling that Valencia did not want to invest in the squad. To win a La Liga title, two or three more players were needed to make the step up in quality, and at that particular time the club could not spend.

And so I found myself going to Atletico Madrid. This was a difficult experience as Atletico had hit a sticky patch at the time, but there were absolutely no regrets as I enjoyed working with the colourful and eccentric Jesus Gil and his family, even if I never finished the job I went there to do. As far as Valencia is concerned, perhaps in a certain sense I was happy to have been wrong, because they went on to some great achievements, winning a La Liga title and a Spanish Super Cup, and have appeared in no less than two Champions League finals, and as a supporter of theirs I was delighted. I am sure there are many in Valencia who support Chelsea too.

I was able to meet up again at the Liverpool game with, among others, Dr Jorge Candel, who is not only one of the best doctors I have ever come across in my career but also a wonderful person, and with Amedeo Carboni, a player who should be an example for any professional to follow. He’s nearing 40 now, but has always been one of the best defenders in the game and is absolutely indispensable. Not only on the field but, as the saying goes, for his influence in the dressing room as well. Off the pitch, he is surrounded by marvellous women – no lie, this, because besides having a special partner in his wife Giacinta, he can also boast four adorable daughters!

Valencia won the match against Liverpool 2 – 0, and I was happy for a number of reasons. Among other things, I received a splendid piece of news the same day. We had completed our purchase of Adrian Mutu from Parma. Maybe Adrian was not particularly well known in England at the time, but in Italy people were well aware of his worth. In my eyes, he was just the man we needed: a forward, though without being an out-and-out striker. I was looking for a fast and tough player who would never stand still; a player with superior ability to score goals, but equally, one who knows how to deliver the final pass. He had all these qualities, what we in Italy call a ‘second striker’. He had just had a good year with Parma, for whom he also scored plenty of goals, but now we were offering him the chance to make a big leap in quality with us. We paid a lot for him, almost £16 million, but I know he was also worth a lot. A thought occurred to me on the way back to London. We were in Italy when Glen Johnson was signed. I was on a flight to Malaysia when they told me that the negotiations with Duff and Bridge had been concluded. I was in Budapest to watch the Zilina game when Veron and Cole were brought in, and now here I was at Liverpool when the Mutu signing was agreed. And remembering that I had received a call in France, on my way from Rome to London, telling me that Chelsea Football Club had been bought by Abramovich, I can only come to the conclusion that I ought to travel much more in this life!

My little joke, of course. These must just be coincidences.

In my mind, I was already thinking about the formation I would put out against Liverpool the following Saturday, though without realizing that in the case of Mutu, who in the line-up of my thoughts would be one of the starting eleven, it was going to be a race against the clock from that moment on. Everything was squared with the British authorities in three days, and a work permit secured. At the Italian end, things were a little more complicated on the transfer front. Problems with faxes, a public holiday in mid-August (can it really be true that we Italians are always on holiday?), red tape … anyway, it was not long before I realized I would probably not be picking Mutu to play at Anfield.

Before Liverpool though, we had to start thinking seriously about Europe, because at last, after all the transfers, the friendlies, the fine words and the expectations, this was the start of the real business.

We set off very early on the Tuesday morning. Rendezvous at Harlington 7.10 am, then on to Gatwick to take a flight for Slovakia at 11 am. Two hours’ flying time followed by a coach ride of nearly three hours, and we were at Zilina. Arriving at five in the afternoon, we were soon on the field for the customary final pre-match training session. We found the temperature quite pleasant. Hot, but not suffocating. The match was the important thing, but no less important to me was the general attitude of the squad. For the first time here, I would be sending star players to sit out the game up in the stands, and it was only right that I should make things clear. Since I had brought everyone along with me, and this was our official debut, it was the best time. And so, I gathered all the players together the evening before the match to say a few words, especially to the older campaigners, as I had already spoken plainly to the newcomers before they signed.

To build a team, matches must be lived to the full. Not only wins, but defeats too, as these help to shape the character of the squad. In the end, a team is like a family and the hard moments should serve to bring everyone together. A defeat provides an important moment in which to take stock, and a base on which to build the wins that will come later. I wanted them to reflect on this as well, before we went into the first real competitive fixture of our season.

‘Boys,’ I said, ‘one way or another, on the park or on the bench, you all knew where you were. But now you’ll have to take on board the fact that it all starts from scratch. You’ve got to get used to the idea of having another manager.

‘Imagine this is Eriksson speaking, or another international team manager. Then it won’t be too difficult for you. What would you do? Try and put yourself about a bit so as to get noticed? I don’t want you to show me anything I already know about. What you’re worth, I mean. But remember that when I put you on the bench or in the stand – and it’s something that will happen to all of you – it doesn’t mean you’re out of favour.

‘The squad has changed just as the aims of the club have changed, and rotation is going to be a fact of life. Bear in mind that if you’re here, new or old, it’s because I want you along, so we can accomplish something big. If you all understand this, it will be the first step on the road to achieving the targets we’ve set ourselves.’

I had given them straight talking and I knew they had all understood, and that they all appreciated the situation. And I knew they would all pull faces when left out. Unfortunate … but they would simply have to get used to a new reality. Football has moved into a new era, and anyone who fails to grasp the situation will not have a great future. This is the time to lay foundations for a big structure, and there can be no question of those foundations being shaky.

MSK Zilina v Chelsea, Champions League Qualifier, 1st Leg, Pod Dubnom, 13 August 2003

I decided to play 4 – 4 – 2, but in particular, to start Veron on the right. Zilina took the field adopting a cautious approach, with a lone striker up front and little appetite for attack. They were obviously wary of us even with home advantage, more so than against Maccabi, their opponents in the previous round, but hoped to repeat the upset by exploiting space on the break. As it turned out, they had one chance at the beginning, when after just three minutes Desailly was forced to make a rather scrambled clearance, but after that little or nothing else. We played the match as we should have, deservedly running out as 2 – 0 winners with a goal by Eidur Gudjhonsen and an own goal also resulting from a move of his. Getting off on the right foot is always important, and even more so for us, with all the talk that Chelsea generated during the summer. But besides the result, I was happy about the attitude of the squad and the tactical flexibility I had sensed.

The Liverpool date was already near, but the transfer window had not yet closed and I was hoping not only that the players I had asked for would materialize, but also that they would be available as soon as possible, with preparation of the squad in mind. The bigger the names, the more complicated the negotiations turn out. In discussions with the management we had agreed to look for a holding midfielder and a forward. However, they had to be players who could make a difference to our squad, and, given the top-class players we already had, the circle was now closing on possible targets. For the midfielder, I was very keen on Claude Makelele, not least in view of the fact that he was unsettled at Real Madrid; and for the forward, I liked the look of Hernan Crespo, or, alternatively, Fernando Morientes. Inter wanted to sell the Argentinian as they needed cash, but they were asking too much, whereas in the case of the Frenchman at Real the situation was more complex, diplomatically in particular. My plan, as I had explained clearly to Abramovich right from our first meeting, was to cover every position with two players, both of whom I could consider as first choices. I needed another two pieces for the jigsaw, just like these.

In the meantime, the great day had arrived. No Mutu unfortunately, since, as I had feared, the transfer documentation from the Italian Football Federation did not come through in time, and we were at the airport ready to board for Liverpool. Ready for the biggest and most exciting adventure of our career. The 2003/04 Premiership campaign was about to get underway.

Liverpool v Chelsea, Anfield, 17 August 2003

We were taking up more or less where we had left off at the end of last season. A token of continuity that produced a positive feeling inside, though needless to say, Jesper Gronkjaer had scored that famous goal at Stamford Bridge three months ago, whereas now at Liverpool we were about to embark on a new era. It was a match like any other against top-level opposition, and simplicity itself to prepare for from the psychological standpoint. It practically prepares itself. The wait is exciting for everybody. Everyone is on edge, and in fact my job sometimes is to lower the tension. The problem was, I would be missing not only Mutu, but the injured Petit as well.

So I decided – keeping faith with my nickname ‘the Tinkerman’ – that I would field a completely new lineup. Yes, even though this was such an important match, I had no doubts about my decision to pick what I saw as the side that would give us the best result. I was putting the maturity of my team to the test, straight away. On paper it was a 4 – 1 – 4 – 1. In practice, I had Geremi in front of the back four, Johnson, Terry, Desailly and Bridge, then two central playmakers in Lampard and Veron, a lone striker up front, Gudjhonsen, and two out wide ready to cut in from the wings, Duff on the right and Gronkjaer on the left. An odd sort of formation in the eyes of the press, but I saw it as giving them both the chance to get themselves into shooting positions on their preferred foot.

Houllier had his usual 4 – 4 – 2 with Owen up front and Heskey and Kewell (wonderful footballer) playing off him on either side, plus the threat of Murphy able to score or provide from further back. They were playing a diamond midfield, frequently changing the point man to upset our plans.

A good game and at the end a great result, though it was certainly not easy. In recent years we had always been undone at Anfield and punished well beyond what we deserved, and this time we all wanted it to finish differently to ensure a good start to our new adventure.

Liverpool started strongly, with Carlo saving well in the first few minutes from Murphy and coming out to deny Owen, but after that, everyone began to discover the new Chelsea: a team with the right balance, attitude, character and top players. Qualities summed up in our first goal, scored appropriately enough by Veron who, with perfect timing, finished off a splendid build-up involving Johnson, Desailly and Lampard, with the final surge and cross coming from Gronkjaer.

Perhaps it was the importance of an eagerly awaited match, or the names of the players and teams involved, but it hardly seemed like a season opener. High tempo, a lively atmosphere, the feeling of something already being at stake. I had made my three substitutions, introducing Gallas, Cole and Hasselbaink without changing the plan, and we seemed to be controlling the game without too much trouble. Then a mistake. Bridge was surprised by Kewell on the left-hand edge of the area, and knocked him over. Whistle. Penalty. The way the match was going, a draw would have been an injustice, and when I saw Owen send his spot-kick wide I was thinking almost that we had earned the mistake. But hardly had the thought occurred when, incredibly, the referee ordered the kick to be retaken because Carlo had moved. He judged that the half-step forward made by Carlo to launch his dive was illegal. Absurd! Unfair both in a sporting sense and from the standpoint of the rules as well, because on this basis every penalty awarded would have to be retaken or repeated ad infinitum. There was nothing I could do, but I was furious inside. I must have said something to the fourth official, though I cannot really remember what. And to think I am sometimes accused of being impassive, hiding my feelings! Frankly this was too much, but all I could do was watch as Owen converted. Back to square one, and in my mind I was already battling the demons of the last two encounters we had played and lost at Anfield. Legendary temple of football it might be, but precisely for this reason I did not want it to become a permanent jinx for us.

But then, three minutes from time, Jimmy latched on perfectly to one of Lampard’s splendid passes and scored, releasing all of our anger (and his too, I imagine, as he had started the game on the bench). Off came the shirt, and as he paraded his muscles, he was symbolically showing off the muscle of the entire team. Yes, we really had carried on from where we left off, with a win against Liverpool. But in different conditions. Different players and different perspectives, but the same aim: to be a team with big ambitions. In this sense we had just passed a test of no mean importance, athletically and mentally, and I was obviously very happy.

Hardly any time to celebrate, though, and I soon had other situations to address. We had still not wrapped up the negotiations for Makelele and Crespo, but I was optimistic for a successful outcome on both deals.

Unfortunately, having top-class players also means having to do without them when their national teams are playing, and indeed after the win at Liverpool I had to witness what I knew all too well would happen. Harlington was almost deserted, with nearly all the likely candidates being called up either to the Under-21s or to the senior international squads. This is an impossible situation and there is no solution. We simply have to make the best of it, hoping that no-one gets hurt, although injuries are not the only risk. There are long journeys, jet lag, and above all it is practically impossible to plan any kind of physical training that will be the same for everybody. Sassi does his excellent best on the fitness side, but he certainly cannot work miracles. I never complain, because this is a problem common to many of my counterparts. And in any case, if you want to coach a top-flight team it is inevitable.

The following Wednesday, Carlton Cole accepted the idea of going on loan to another Premiership club. I was keen to secure this kind of arrangement for the same reasons as applied to Forssell, except that instead of going to Southampton as we originally thought, there was no need for him even to move house, as he went to Charlton. I know the surroundings are good over there. Alan Curbishley is a first-rate manager and there is also Paolo Di Canio, who can teach a young player plenty, most of all in terms of professional attitude and love for the game. Paolo possesses an in-born talent and has a big personality, but commendable passion too. Carlton needs to mature, but if with his extraordinary potential he can learn from Paolo, he will come back to be an important player for our club.

I had wanted to travel up to Ipswich to see the England-Croatia game, but instead I decided to go to Upton Park where Carlton Cole and Glen Johnson were playing in the Under-21s. Unfortunately, the result was a resounding 3 – 0 defeat for David Piatt’s team. I met up with Sven-Goran Eriksson in the VIP stand and exchanged a few words in Spanish with Sammy Lee, a Liverpool legend and one of the England coaches, who I imagine must have picked up the language in his playing days at Osasuna. It was a pleasant chat with Sven – and who knows what the press would make of that! But this was the least of my worries.

Chelsea v Leicester, Stamford Bridge, 23 August 2003

The first home game of the season had arrived. Always an important occasion. There are positive vibes in the air that give the team a special boost. This year of course, the importance of everything is double or even greater. The team was introduced to the strains of Kalinka, that best-known of all Russian songs, and it seemed to me an engaging, clever, almost ironic way to present the official opening of a new page in the history of the club at Stamford Bridge. It has since become an entertaining ritual. I am always in the dressing room with the team when the announcements are made, but I see from television recordings that Roman Abramovich enjoys the idea too, undemonstrative as he is, standing up and clapping in time with the music.

On the pitch though, it is our job to dictate the tempo, and despite the setback of having Geremi sent off for a second yellow card, we picked up the three points against Leicester too. A foregone conclusion perhaps, but only on paper. We played 4 – 4 – 2 because being at home, naturally, I wanted a more attacking line-up right from the start, with Mutu and Hasselbaink up front. I knew it would not be the goal-fest some might have expected, because our opponents had nothing to lose and they would defend any way they could, so at the end I was pleased on two counts: the result, and the fact that Mutu had scored a great goal on his debut. He struck a free-kick right-footed from about 25 yards, and when the rebound came back off the wall, proceeded to despatch the ball into the net with his left. In the space of a minute, to people in England who knew nothing about him, he showed himself to be a winner, a player with an eye for goal capable of shooting accurately and powerfully with both feet. He was eager to make an impression and I was pleased he managed to do just that.

A couple of days later, one of the two pending transfer deals was nicely wrapped up at last. Crespo was now a Chelsea player, and even if the financial commitment was considerable at £17 million, the news was certainly something to celebrate. Hernan has lots of experience although he is still relatively young. Above all, he is a player with 109 goals to his name in Serie A, effectively a harder league for a striker than most others, which means he comes with a solid pedigree. He’s a clever footballer, the classic opportunist in the penalty area, with fine anticipation and good in the air. In short, he’s the complete forward. I tell you, a manager will always do a few sums before the start of a season. He tries to assess how many goals are likely to come from individual players, or rather from the various field positions. Say, 5 or 6 from defenders, at least 10 if not 15 from midfielders, and then a good haul from the forwards. So, if I had done my forecast again on the day Crespo arrived, I would easily be thinking in terms of another twenty or so coming from the Argentinian. The hope will be that he can justify our confidence in him by scoring them.