A letter to Roman - Dated Mar'2012

Dear Roman,

                You are perhaps one of the most passionate persons ever to own a football club. Your passion for Chelsea for titles and most specifically, for the Champions League is legendary. It is good to be passionate and aim for glory. The Champions League has evaded Chelsea for a long time now and it is every fan’s dream to see the Holy Grail of football at the Bridge. But it’s not easy, and sometimes when we don’t win, we just have to live with it, and move on, and hope that we do so in the next season.

                Your involvement in Chelsea and your willingness to use your funds for the club has been appreciated by every fan. The money you have provided has helped Chelsea improve its standard and has helped translate good football into trophies. We are all very grateful for that. You have brought to the Bridge some of the best managers in today’s game, and with most of them with reasonable amounts of success in their short durations. Every year Chelsea hopes for Champions League success. Sometimes we fail due to poor football, sometimes due to poor refereeing and sometimes due to plain bad luck. But always, you take out your wrath on your poor manager. It’s become a joke! We know your passion and high hopes, but sometimes, it blinds your sense of thinking and rationale.

Another Casualty of the Roman Empire: Andre Villas-Boas

                Chelsea fans are perhaps one of the most patient set of fans in the EPL. We never boo or criticize a player even when he’s misfiring. But sadly, our owner has absolutely no patience and is blinded by his desire to see trophies every season. You sacked 'The Special One' due to personal issues. You sacked Carlo Ancelotti after he won Chelsea's first ever domestic Double in his first season and was runner-up in the league in his second year. Most clubs would die for a manager with such a record in the first 2 seasons. You sacked Avram Grant and Luis Felipe Scolari without even giving them 1 full season. And now you sacked the young tactician, AVB. And none of your sackings and appointments is helping Chelsea’s cause for financial fair play.

                Football managers need time, support and patience. Look at Man City this season. Roberto Mancini is making them work wonders AFTER the owners trusted him for 2 seasons. The legendary SAF won NOTHING in his first few seasons at the Old Trafford. Still the owners persisted with him. Look where Man Utd is today. You need to give your managers time. Each manager has his own tactics, needs his own time to settle. You have proven by spending millions on AVB that he is a bright prospect, someone who could be brilliant for the long term. Yet, you give him less than a season to show his worth. He is a young manager, barely older than some of his players, at one of the world’s biggest clubs. He will take time to settle, but still you sack him. Why, Roman? Why?

Is This The Message Chelsea Fans Have For Abramovich?

                A good team needs a good manager, and a steady approach to the game. How will you ever get that consistency if you have 6 different managers in 6 seasons! You need to realize that it is way tougher to MANAGE football players than it is to spend millions on them! To manage successful and established stars is not an easy task. You need to realize this. This needs commitment, which you also have, and patience which, sadly, you lack.

                What would you rather prefer? Chelsea qualifying for the Champions League next season and doing squat or Chelsea playing the Europa league for one season, getting reorganized and balanced and then win, say, 4 Champions League titles in the next 10 years? You need to stick with one manager and give him the time he needs to settle down and perform. Otherwise, you can buy all the Torreses and Matas in the world, and still not win the CL. It’s a simple choice. It’s your choice. Please be patient in the future. You owe it to the players, to the team, and lastly, to the ever so patient fans. Think wisely. We know you can do it.

Sincerely,
A tired yet optimistic fan.

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 Today's News:

Champions League winner Di Matteo sacked by Chelsea

 

The flying shoe

The flying shoe

                I was born in a showpiece factory. A very solid piece of art I would call myself, proud of my perfectly packaged self I was sent to a store.

                I was displayed in the first rack in the “New Stock” section, but without a partner. Living in a glass case was fine; people looked at me and always asked, “Is this a shoe?”, or “Is this a showpiece?” These questions started confusing me. No one had ventured further and bought me. I started getting nervous. My shiny body couldn’t attract customers. I had bet myself that I would’ve got sold on my first day itself.

                Two days had passed. I started noticing things. All the people in the store were wearing shoes were wearing them in pairs, each on one leg. I knew I was missing somebody, a partner through life, a left shoe.

                I was very small, a three numbered sized shoe. A kid’s shoe perhaps, but no kids ever looked at me. It was always over aged people. Plus what would they do with one shoe? But was I place too high on this rack for small kids to see me?

I was just a showpiece; no one would ever buy me. A silly small hat on my head that looked like a purposeful dent. The small cap didn’t even cover my body. I knew it was meant for something, but what?

Finally after resting in various places in various showcases including my current owner’s almirah, who themselves did not know where to put me; I was removed on their wedding anniversary. Was I that odd a gift? My owner’s would never show me off or maybe to be used once in a life time.

Anyways happy to be finally brought out of the gloom I eagerly waited for him to insert his leg into me. But instead he flicked his cigar into me. I was choked more from the feeling than the ash. Was I so ugly people threw trash at me. He smiled at me and did it again.

It struck me like lightning; I was an ashtray, made of shiny brass. I was flying through the air as the people passed me around the room. Cigarette butts were being stabbed into me, but I had found myself.

My hat was a cigarette holder.