A Match Made In Heaven

If I didn’t know any better I’d say that there must have been some divine intervention going on last night. Plenty of evidence to support a whole heavenly host of Godlike input as well, should you care to ask someone who only hours ago was a gibbering wreck of a man left mouthing the words “He does exist, he REALLY does exist.†And yes, it was the Good Lord being referred to. And it was me doing the referring. And from up here on Cloud Nine, post-negotiation-wise, it all feels so worthwhile. Fair play, though, to whichever Chelsea fan it was who had the foresight (plus biblical hotline straight through to The Man Himself) to get this deal done. Let’s face it, we all offered up prayers, yet purely by reference to the way this game panned out it is pretty clear that some intricate covenanting went on at the top…and I do mean the very top.

My guess is that it was all carried out under the Old Testament barter system - God giveth a little, like a breakaway goal in the first leg, plus a clean sheet, whereupon said Chelsea fan has to suffer endless down-to-earthly comments from assorted critics like the absurdly acidic Paul Hayward in The Telegraph, who this morning gave us ’playing three-quarters of the game without the ball is humiliating’ - such a bitter little pill. Unsurprisingly, colleague Jason Burt chose a different tack, preferring to find ready excuse with these kind words of encouragement for Barca-lovers everywhere

’…the pattern isn’t quite right at present. It is still beautiful but imperfect. Maybe it is simply a matter of re-calibration, such are the fine margins within which they work, but it’s a little askew.’

Ah yes, a little calibration here, a little tweak there, that’ll do it in no time, or at least it will against ten of any other team’s men, of that we can all be sure. In the meantime, Jason, the phrase ’pretentious, moi?’ springs to mind when reading this claptrap - get a grip.

Anyway, back to my main contention, which for those who have not already guessed is that some serious outside interference took place last night - yes it did, Liam, it truly did - and I’m going to try to reconstruct the On High wheeler-dealer-ing that must have taken place to produce such a spectacular result. Imagine the scene:- God, all long beard and flowing robes, seated on one side of the celestial table with Chelsea fan, all tattoos and paranoia, bobbing about nervously on the other. The conversation must has to have gone something like this…

God - ‘I suppose you realise I can’t offer an awful lot in the first twenty. After all, I only knows why Messi hasn’t ever scored against you and it’s gonna cost to keep it that way. Gary Cahill?’

Fan - ’Cahill?! Gary was frickin’ awesome last time out, so you take him and I want everything quiet for at least the next, say, twenty-five minutes?’

God - ’He goes, but is replaced by Bossy. Then you concede, that’s my final offer.’

Fan - ’Jeez, no offence meant, but you drive a hard bargain. Still, we’ll take it if it’s evened up with Pique being shifted on the half-hour.’

God - ’Done…and none taken. Now, you know what comes next, don’t you? Forget the in-play, cards and corners, the best bet when I’m involved with Chelsea late-on in the Champions League is the sending off... sweet. In fact, it’s obligatory, it’s JT and it’s as nailed on as the penalty against you that’s going to be coming later.’

Fan - ’Fair play to yer for being up-front quickly, which we certainly wont be from the moment we‘re down to ten. What about that away goal you promised?’

God - ’I can’t make it any earlier than on the stroke of halftime and even then it wont be a full doubles-worth because you’re asking too much. Barca get another first, then it’s yours for the taking.’

Fan - ’Make it a good’un’

God - ’Sorted, although there will be another heavy price to pay.’

Fan - ’Not bloody Fabregas diving for a pen?’

God - ’’Fraid so. But I’ll do you a special package and have Messi miss the thing - that’ll teach ’em to bang on about him being Me. AS IF!! [Clouds collide, the Heavens roar, storm then abates] So sorry about that, let’s get back to the job in hand, shall we? I’m all in favour of a big finish for a special occasion, what say you?’

Fan - ’Why not? By then, as I’m gonna be a nervous wreck anyway, might as well risk complete insanity. Truth be told, everyone knows you move in mysterious ways your wonders to perform, so it might just as well bring the house down. What you got in mind?’

God - ’How about Fernando Torres running half the length of the field, rounding the keeper and sticking it in the net and the whole extravaganza taking place in injury time?’

Fan - ’God, you really are God, aren’t you?! And there was I, after Tom ******* Henning Ovrebo, thinking you didn’t exist.’ [God smiles benignly and there is much blessing before goodbyes are said]

God - ‘Enjoyed doing business and nice to have met you.’

Fan - ‘Likewise, mate. Just don’t leave it so long next time.