As Chelsea and Manchester United dispensed with first-half tactics and took turns to blindly charge forward, the drool from TNT commentators could’ve filled a reservoir.
“How on earth is this still 0-0?!”, Fletch asked Ally and Joe. It was a fair question. Only a combination of jittery limbs and luck kept the game goalless.
But the whole thing was reminiscent of a set-piece battle on the Western Front. Whose turn was it to attack? Have billions of pounds really been invested in producing this spectacle?
All it missed was a Chelsea pensioner sweeping the pitch with machine gun fire. By the end, Michael Carrick had surely been condemned to death by firing squad.
This game has transformed from the blue-riband Premier League fixture and actual Champions League final into a Donkey Derby within a generation.
Deep down, both Chelsea and United are pining for a glorious past that resides in recent memory. The uncomfortable truth is that the conditions for it – unchallenged financial supremacy and messianic managers – are no longer on the table.
But Stamford Bridge was full and bathed in bright autumn sunshine. The old place does look rather squashed these days, but any populist politician worth their salt would give it Listed Building status.
Bruno Fernandes was recalled for United, with Youri Tielemans dropped after a plodding start to the season.
“I’d love to peek inside Fernandes’ head,” said Darren Fletcher, revealing both his startling lack of imagination and the narrative that had been constructed for us all week.
In the event, he skied one first-half chance after brilliantly controlling Bryan Mbeumo’s sweeping pass, before falling into the b*tching and moaning his team-mates must surely by now treat as white noise.
For Chelsea, Esteavo made his first start of the season. It feels like a long time since he was raving about the English weather without a hint of irony, but he was busy Making Things Happen in a chaotic opening.
Xabi Alonso had picked the youngest team in the Premier League this season, with an average age of under 24. Pedro Neto (and his Pringles ‘tache) was their oldest player at 26.
Chelsea no longer huddle around the centre-circle, but some of their inexperience manifested itself in leaving acres of space for United to counter-attack into.
Amad mugged Wesley Fofana on two occasions, but lacked composure. Matheus Cunha’s control in front of goal was positively Brazilian, specifically Fred’s of 2014 World Cup infamy.
Cunha was still unlucky not to open the scoring, his clever header ruled out after he was pushed into an offside position by a Chelsea defender.
One growing bugbear of ours is commentators revealing decisions ahead of time – Fletcher did this by saying “our indications are” for Cunha’s goal and several substitutions. Who benefits from this?
But it’s another step in the chatification of everything: podcasts, AI bots and now sports commentary. Fletch’s main failing is that he struggles to let games breathe. He definitely overwaters his plants.
After squandering several chances in the first 45, United crumbled after Morgan Rogers channelled his inner Ben Arfa and scored a worldie by running in a straight line.
Lisandro Martinez then defecated in public for the second time this month. While there was some honour in calling out Dear Leader Wilcox and his transfer dealings, there was none in barging Fofana in the penalty area seconds after being booked.
Peter Bankes instantly pointed to the spot. VAR did the rest and Martinez sloped off with Carrick studiously ignoring his centre-back.
Cole Palmer had done nothing prior to his spot-kick and is in danger of becoming a Goldilocks player. He didn’t deserve to score with his p*ss-weak penalty. Luckily for him, Senne Lammens is still haunted by his World Cup howler and allowed the ball through his wrists.
And that was that, minus another BTEC Baller cameo from Joshua Zirkzee. He’ll be happy once he’s returned to Serie A.
United will sack Carrick once they’ve stumped up the compensation for Eddie Howe. There was no shortage of effort at Stamford Bridge, in the first half at least, but Howe’s hard-running style will go down like a cup of sick with the current United squad.
Will Ratcliffe, Wilcox and friends allow him to clear the decks and build his own team? It would show a level of competence and self-awareness they have not yet exhibited.
As for Chelsea, they are one of those clubs where their toast lands jam side up. After all the BlueCo wastage, Alonso has the raw materials to build a proper team.
Given time and some new defenders, Chelsea will be well-placed to challenge in the post-City era. United’s challenge is far more existential.
