Chelsea vs Everton: The One That Was Offside

Carnage

The insistence of playing John Obi Mikel and Nemanja Matic together reminds me of Rachel’s trifle from Friends. Just because meat is good* and jam is good does not mean they should co-exist in the same dish or on the same pitch.

In theory, the pairing should work to create a glorious fortress of solitude in front of the back four, but for whatever reason it just makes a mess of any semblance of shape and a disconnectedness between the attack and everyone else. They are trying to do the same job, but seemingly in the same place at the same time rather than spreading their considerable size across the pitch. In other words they leave a massive gaping hole for anyone just to have a leisurely stroll through. Which is exactly what Everton did for large expanses of Saturday’s little slice of chaos.

While the first half was largely forgettable - and by that I mean I’d rather forget it, there was one moment of note about a half hour into the tedious affair. One which I will from this point forward refer to as ‘Pedro’s brain fart’. He picked up an errant pass from Ross Barkley and rather than clear the ball to any semblance of safety, he ran full tilt into Chelsea’s box as Azpilicueta and co. literally stopped in their tracks to watch his moment of madness aka PBF. He continued his run through the box only to be closed down by Kevin Mirallas and reward the visitors with a corner. I can only surmise that he forgot where he was and thought he was back at Barca taking on Atleti. Courtois plays with you now Pedro, not against you.


Chelsea managed to fend off Everton (and Pedro’s) advances in the opening 45 minutes, but it didn’t take long before that little saucepot, Own Goal, popped up for a goal for only bloody Everton. I realise we are in the thick of the January transfer window, but a heads up on this particular move would have been nice. Twitter didn’t self-destruct until Tuesday - so there’s no excuses. This was a better kept secret than the bargain basement deal that Southampton pulled off for Charlie Austin.

Just six minutes later Chelsea’s defence allowed Mirallas a goal to save the embarrassment of Own Goal turning on them. Because if Mirallas scored it wasn’t all down to OG and that’s better, right? After seeing Chelsea twice throw away a lead on Wednesday, the levels of expectation from the crowd me were somewhere between ‘let’s just keep it respectable’ and ‘for the love of God don’t let Lukaku score.’

But the masses at the Bridge didn’t have to wait long for that quiet resignation to get turned on its head. As Diego Costa only went and did another goal thanks to a luscious pass from Cesc Fàbregas. For anyone questioning his inclusion in the team - first, give your heads a wobble - and second it's for moments exactly like that. Full credit to Costa for not falling into the over celebrating trap when a job still needed to be done. He snapped that ball away from bezzie mate Tim Howard and sprinted back to the centre circle. No shithousery in sight.

His quick return paid off with Fàbregas getting in on the goalscoring fun and bringing the game back to level terms. It was difficult to tell whether the fans or Fàbregas himself was more excited by his goal. He was Chelsea’s best player on the pitch in that first hour and deserved to see his name on the scoresheet. Unsurprisingly, there was a distinct shift in the mood on and off the pitch as the fans willed the players on rather than grumble about who didn't start and who's fault this all was.

With just 10 minutes to go, Costa found himself with a bit of a knock to his shin - I blame the socks. He managed to drag his corpse towards the technical areas - but when he realised he was off the pitch, he quickly crawled back on. Reminiscent of the legend that is Didier Drogba who outraged just about everyone with a little injured roll off and back onto the pitch (against Liverpool). It came very close to being my highlight of the match. Backheel goals be damned.

With all the goals, Costa injury and some serious substitution confusion there was a whopping 7 minutes added to the end of the game. 7 minutes that Roberto Martinez will be having nightmares and muttering in his sleep about for years to come. In the 91st minute Funes Mori set out to ruin my day by putting Everton ahead once again. But then decided to celebrate like an absolute maniac. Crowd surfing, struggling to get his shirt off and losing his headband. The 91st minute. That means a minimum of another 6 needed to be played. Plus the extra time for all the festivities in the corner. Something Everton should have remembered from their win that wasn’t a win away to Bournemouth. Sure, November was SO long ago, but you’d think it would have been a harsh enough lesson that they wouldn’t forget.

But forget they did. No one wants a win that isn't a win - but here we are again Everton. *slow clap* The 97th on the dot minute came and went to the ire of the tiny ball of fury that is Martinez. And to atone for his earlier sin of assisting Own Goal, Terry only got himself into an offside position to back heel the bejesus out a goal and cement a point for the mighty Blues. Captain and vice-captain headed to the stands to celebrate with each and every one of us. Well not all of us, some of us were a stepping stool to sad little boys who thought walking on people was the fastest way to get to Terry and co.* But you get the idea. Dizzying madness to end a chaotic game of football.

The fact that so much ire came from a goal that was marginally offside from a team mooching around in 14th made it all the sweeter. And what a goal it was.

One more match until Chelsea are allowed to win a league game again. Exciting times.

jb xx

*as a vegetarian I'm not so much in the 'meat is good' camp but included it for dramatic effect you carnivores

**according to his Instagram, John Terry said if he could have he would have hugged each and every one of us in the Matthew Harding Lower. As I suffered personal injury, I think that JT still owes me that hug