Mycampusplug
Last Minute News: Chelsea’s Bankroll Can’t Save Them From Mental Collapse
Thoughts and prayers for Todd Boehly and Clearlake Capital’s Chelsea FC who have navigated their most traumatic day in any season. Not a frustrating home draw to Crystal Palace, but last Friday’s closure of the transfer window. Some surprise that their team did not wear black armbands.
There were 11 senior arrivals this summer, with Jadon Sancho completing the “entire new team” set on deadline day. Such enthusiastic recruitment has become the default in the fast-forward out of the Roman Abramovich era. The Manchester United loanee was introduced before the game as “your new No 19” because a top-20 squad number presumably qualifies as a status symbol.
During the first half you wondered how he would fit into such a vibrant attacking side. The way Chelsea crumpled after Palace’s equaliser raised less pleasant questions. It was not an afternoon of gruesome missed chances but Chelsea’s initial dominance of territory, possession and momentum was undeniable. Failing to make that count and settling for a point against a team on zero before kick-off suggests a frailty which will not be solved by hedge-fund backing alone, however generous.
It is unwise to make any conclusions about teams three games into a league season but in the case of Enzo Maresca’s Chelsea it is impossible. Are they the merciless destroyers who tore apart Wolves last weekend, or the meek flops who lost to Servette on Thursday? Those were two vastly different teams in personnel, but how do you draw conclusions from a game like this in which Chelsea looked so bright in the first half and dim in the second?
Into the positive column go the adaptable core who showed promising positional fluidity during admitted unchallenging periods. Wesley Fofana, Moises Caicedo and Malo Gusto interchanged and swapped roles with ease. Cole Palmer began as a walking danger, setting his first warning shot just wide from marginally outside the box and Noni Madueke is a livewire, with all the implied volatility.
He can skin a defender at will but his decision-making once that advantage is gained is often lacking. One shot from the acute territory he scored four from at Wolves, and seemed unlikely to miss from ever again, went wide. A neat volley soon afterwards was tipped onto the bar by excellent Palace goalkeeper Dean Henderson.
Chelsea’s opening goal was a flawlessly executed counterattack when their four overpowered Palace’s three. Marc Guehi lost the ball on a rare fact-finding mission to midfield, Madueke broke forwards, released Palmer at the ideal moment and he rolled it across goal for Nicolas Jackson to tap in. In moments like these Maresca’s team look full of promise. There is speed, invention and clarity.
But nothing at Chelsea is that straightforward and the crumpling that followed Palace’s equaliser was simultaneously alarming and predictable. Eberechi Eze can have a quiet hour then decide he fancies defining a match. Rare to agree with a shout of “shooooot!” from fans when a player strides onto a ball 25 yards out, rarer still to think that player is going to score. Eze duly did with a whipped ripsnorter and from there Palace took control.
Chelsea fell into bad habits, aimless punts and careless passes. They visibly shrunk in front of a crowd reared on higher-quality produce. Palace were improved for the introduction of Cheick Doucoure for Will Hughes, who took an early booking for a tactical foul then was fortunate to escape without another early in the second half. Oliver Glasner immediately substituted Hughes and showed his team video clips at half-time to illustrate gaps he could see which they were failing to.
Yet Chelsea found some late panache, when Jackson missed two presentable chances. A winner would have sent his team into the international break healthily in credit, at least football-wise. Instead, we are forced to consider again just what this experimental approach to running a football club means.
If you resign yourself to most clubs being rich men’s playthings, it is worth considering how their toys are being treated. The love language of Boehly and Clearlake is gift-based. Look how much we adore you Chelsea, we bought you a Jadon Sancho. To go with your new Pedro Neto, Joao Felix and Filip Jørgensen. A more measured parent might be acting differently. No, you are not having Kiernan-Dewsbury Hall, you have Conor Gallagher at home.
Is Sancho a better bet than Raheem Sterling? Does Tosin Adarabioyo have a higher ceiling than Trevoh Chalobah? Is Jackson really getting a nine-year contract? Is this all incredibly innovative or horribly reckless? No sign yet of this 5,000-piece puzzle being solved. At this stage Maresca has barely found the edges.
