http://www.chelseafc.com/page/ColumnistsDetails/0,,10268~2466451,00.html
Now, that's how to handle a night in Europe, isn't it? OK, so there was a slight sense, at the end, of having snatched a draw from the jaws of victory.
But, at the same time, at least none of our players, when asked to come on as substitutes, mutinously refused to do so, causing the manager to state that the player in question would never play for the club again, and obliging the club to suspend him for a fortnight, pending an investigation.
At least none of our substituted players elected to storm past the manager on their way off the pitch, toss their tracksuit top around and slam their boots violently into the ground.
And at least we didn't go 2-0 up at home to far weaker opposition, only to fall 2-3 behind and then rely on a streaky last-minute equaliser to perform a partial reconstitution job on our faces.
All in all, by comparison with the behaviour of one or two of the other English entrants for the Champions League this week, our appearance in Spain was exemplary for its quiet and yet deeply skilled and often mesmerisingly inventive efficiency.
True, some people might point at the random yellow cards picked up for dissent after the final whistle by Juan Mata and Ashley Cole and suggest that a little more discipline might have been in order, briefly. But you could understand the players' frustration. When was the last time a referee awarded a free kick to a side in a highly promising attacking position and then decided there was no time to take it? Why wouldn't he just blow for time instead of awarding the free kick, and thereby not wind everyone up?
But we've been here before, haven't we? It's called 'officiating at elite UEFA levels', and one day, I hope to be able to understand it.
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[TD]Things I would say to Frank Lampard if I could:
That, firstly, and most importantly, enormous and everlasting gratitude is due. Three Premier League titles, three FA Cups and two League Cups - I've won all of those, with your help. Plus (why not? Jose Mourinho always used to count them) two Community Shields.
And that gratitude is simultaneously due for 517 appearances and 172 goals. From midfield. Not just outstanding. Unparalleled. For perspective: that's 11 more goals than Ryan Giggs has scored for Manchester United - but in 366 fewer appearances. 366! And you haven't finished yet. Not finished by a long way. Even if you don't start every time, you will play many more games, because, round this way, there always seem to be a lot of games to be played.
That according to Sports Illustrated magazine, in June this year you were the 49th highest earning sportsperson in the world. Wowza. That's pretty good going, when you think that the world contains American basketball players.
That at my youngest son's school the other day, when they were asked to nominate their favourite sportsperson, the vast majority of them put your name down. OK, so it's a predominantly Chelsea-supporting school in south west London. But not just 'favourite footballer', note, because you seem to be bigger than that in their minds: favourite sportsperson.
That by the time they get to 33, an awful lot of players have gone to Birmingham, or somewhere similar.
They are said to be 'winding down'. You, by contrast, are still critically involved in - and absolutely central to - the fortunes of a Champions League club that tends to be fighting for a title and three trophies in any given year. And for how many more seasons, if you get it right? Three? Four? Five? This is some position to be in.
That no successful side can be successfully re-fashioned without older players being obliged to adjust, in ways that might at first strike them as insulting or, at the very least, a bit cheeky. Fans know this. But fans also know that influence in and around a club isn't necessarily measured in minutes on the pitch.
That at the height of all that trumped-up stuff about ageing players and slower playing styles, it was noticeable that, when you and Nicolas Anelka eventually came on against Bayer Leverkusen, the pace quickened.
That the language people use is all wrong. Worse, the right language doesn't seem to be available.
I read articles in which you are described as currently 'struggling for a place in the side', when surely we should really be talking about the extraordinary importance and value of the kind of player who is not automatically first choice at home to Swansea, but is first choice against Valencia, away in the Champions League, three days later.
But there seem to be fewer off-the-peg phrases to describe that role in such a way as to lend it the required dignity. People, loving to sniff a downfall and the imminent end of things, seem to prefer a gloomier spin. We'd all be mad to join them.
That the first people to preach the benefits of the squad system are managers. But the second people to preach it ought to be senior players. It's so patently in their interests to do so.
That the press would absolutely love it if your perfectly natural dissatisfaction at being required to play from the bench from time to time could be fashioned into a full-blown snit, served up with an extra-large serving of indignation, a dollop of speculation regarding dressing room disharmony and all the trimmings. That's back-page heaven.
Indeed, the Mail on Sunday has been all over this already. And, of course, there is very little you can do about being taken out of context, although, if you were ever in a position to give one, a public statement of outright support for the manager and his long-term project puts that one to bed pretty conclusively. (The one after last night's match was pretty useful. There will be other even better opportunities to be even more emphatic, I'm sure.)
That you are already a club legend - but that who knows what lies in store for you if, as someone widely regarded as the consummate professional, you get this next phase of the career right? Probably nothing short of immortality.[/TD]
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'One step forwards and 12 steps backwards.' That was somebody's verdict on Fernando Torres' extraordinary, scene-stealing first half performance against Swansea last Saturday, with its goal and its assist and then its sending off, all compressed into one headline-friendly 15-minute passage.
But the verdict seemed a bit harsh to me, and to do a disservice to the quantum leap taken by Torres's form, which was further attested to last night, when only two saves of almost Banks-esque worldliness prevented him from making it three goals in three games. Saturday was one step forward, three games suspended, maybe. But that still leaves him in a cheeringly good place.
What a Blog by Giles Smith. Honestly, his blog perfectly sums up my frustrations at all this nonsense about Lampard going on in the Press... hope Lampard reads this
Super Frank!
Now, that's how to handle a night in Europe, isn't it? OK, so there was a slight sense, at the end, of having snatched a draw from the jaws of victory.
But, at the same time, at least none of our players, when asked to come on as substitutes, mutinously refused to do so, causing the manager to state that the player in question would never play for the club again, and obliging the club to suspend him for a fortnight, pending an investigation.
At least none of our substituted players elected to storm past the manager on their way off the pitch, toss their tracksuit top around and slam their boots violently into the ground.
And at least we didn't go 2-0 up at home to far weaker opposition, only to fall 2-3 behind and then rely on a streaky last-minute equaliser to perform a partial reconstitution job on our faces.
All in all, by comparison with the behaviour of one or two of the other English entrants for the Champions League this week, our appearance in Spain was exemplary for its quiet and yet deeply skilled and often mesmerisingly inventive efficiency.
True, some people might point at the random yellow cards picked up for dissent after the final whistle by Juan Mata and Ashley Cole and suggest that a little more discipline might have been in order, briefly. But you could understand the players' frustration. When was the last time a referee awarded a free kick to a side in a highly promising attacking position and then decided there was no time to take it? Why wouldn't he just blow for time instead of awarding the free kick, and thereby not wind everyone up?
But we've been here before, haven't we? It's called 'officiating at elite UEFA levels', and one day, I hope to be able to understand it.
[TABLE="class: userTable2"]
[TR]
[TD]Things I would say to Frank Lampard if I could:
That, firstly, and most importantly, enormous and everlasting gratitude is due. Three Premier League titles, three FA Cups and two League Cups - I've won all of those, with your help. Plus (why not? Jose Mourinho always used to count them) two Community Shields.
And that gratitude is simultaneously due for 517 appearances and 172 goals. From midfield. Not just outstanding. Unparalleled. For perspective: that's 11 more goals than Ryan Giggs has scored for Manchester United - but in 366 fewer appearances. 366! And you haven't finished yet. Not finished by a long way. Even if you don't start every time, you will play many more games, because, round this way, there always seem to be a lot of games to be played.
That according to Sports Illustrated magazine, in June this year you were the 49th highest earning sportsperson in the world. Wowza. That's pretty good going, when you think that the world contains American basketball players.
That at my youngest son's school the other day, when they were asked to nominate their favourite sportsperson, the vast majority of them put your name down. OK, so it's a predominantly Chelsea-supporting school in south west London. But not just 'favourite footballer', note, because you seem to be bigger than that in their minds: favourite sportsperson.
That by the time they get to 33, an awful lot of players have gone to Birmingham, or somewhere similar.
They are said to be 'winding down'. You, by contrast, are still critically involved in - and absolutely central to - the fortunes of a Champions League club that tends to be fighting for a title and three trophies in any given year. And for how many more seasons, if you get it right? Three? Four? Five? This is some position to be in.
That no successful side can be successfully re-fashioned without older players being obliged to adjust, in ways that might at first strike them as insulting or, at the very least, a bit cheeky. Fans know this. But fans also know that influence in and around a club isn't necessarily measured in minutes on the pitch.
That at the height of all that trumped-up stuff about ageing players and slower playing styles, it was noticeable that, when you and Nicolas Anelka eventually came on against Bayer Leverkusen, the pace quickened.

That the language people use is all wrong. Worse, the right language doesn't seem to be available.
I read articles in which you are described as currently 'struggling for a place in the side', when surely we should really be talking about the extraordinary importance and value of the kind of player who is not automatically first choice at home to Swansea, but is first choice against Valencia, away in the Champions League, three days later.
But there seem to be fewer off-the-peg phrases to describe that role in such a way as to lend it the required dignity. People, loving to sniff a downfall and the imminent end of things, seem to prefer a gloomier spin. We'd all be mad to join them.
That the first people to preach the benefits of the squad system are managers. But the second people to preach it ought to be senior players. It's so patently in their interests to do so.
That the press would absolutely love it if your perfectly natural dissatisfaction at being required to play from the bench from time to time could be fashioned into a full-blown snit, served up with an extra-large serving of indignation, a dollop of speculation regarding dressing room disharmony and all the trimmings. That's back-page heaven.
Indeed, the Mail on Sunday has been all over this already. And, of course, there is very little you can do about being taken out of context, although, if you were ever in a position to give one, a public statement of outright support for the manager and his long-term project puts that one to bed pretty conclusively. (The one after last night's match was pretty useful. There will be other even better opportunities to be even more emphatic, I'm sure.)
That you are already a club legend - but that who knows what lies in store for you if, as someone widely regarded as the consummate professional, you get this next phase of the career right? Probably nothing short of immortality.[/TD]
[/TR]
[/TABLE]
'One step forwards and 12 steps backwards.' That was somebody's verdict on Fernando Torres' extraordinary, scene-stealing first half performance against Swansea last Saturday, with its goal and its assist and then its sending off, all compressed into one headline-friendly 15-minute passage.
But the verdict seemed a bit harsh to me, and to do a disservice to the quantum leap taken by Torres's form, which was further attested to last night, when only two saves of almost Banks-esque worldliness prevented him from making it three goals in three games. Saturday was one step forward, three games suspended, maybe. But that still leaves him in a cheeringly good place.
What a Blog by Giles Smith. Honestly, his blog perfectly sums up my frustrations at all this nonsense about Lampard going on in the Press... hope Lampard reads this
Super Frank!