Roman Calls The Tune

Taken from us in the dead of night, was Jose. Just like that. The health hadn't been the best of late, but it was still a shock when it came.

Hard to imagine life without him, isn't it? A principal character in the Premier League soap opera has been killed off. I can see the compilation of his best moments now, from the extraordinary cameo appearance in Porto's victory over Manchester United in the 2004 Champions League last 16 to last week's 'egg metaphor' press conference. Maybe soundtracked by I Know Him So Well, Elaine Page and Barbara Dickson's classic 1985 version, of course.

Plenty other central characters could be following Mourinho into the footballing equivalent of Holby City. Mourinho's greatest achievement at Chelsea, aside from the tangibles of two Premiership titles, one FA Cup and a Carling Cup, was the team spirit and loyalty he engendered at Stamford Bridge: he created a heart in a club where such a thing shouldn't have existed.

Aside from John Terry and Frank Lampard - the former recently announced himself, Lampard and Mourinho to be the three-pronged fork of righteous justice that would lead Chelsea to global domination - Didier Drogba, Ricardo Carvalho, Paulo Ferreira, Michael Essien and Claude Makalele are all reportedly not best pleased at the way Mourinho's constructive dismissal was carried out.

It certainly appears to be a watershed for the club. Whether the Wormtongue presence of Avram Grant represents a long-term alternative as manager, the Israeli faces an enormous challenge in marshalling Mourinho's loyal footsoldiers under his command.

The duration of his stewardship, of course, will be precisely as long as Roman Abramovich's patience lasts. The Sacked Managers Union that represent most of the football punditry industry will line up squarely in support of Mourinho at this point. The outrageousness of a chairman and club owner dictating how a manager should do his job will be stated and underlined at length.

But the idea that any sort of normal moral compass applies in the world of Abramovich and Chelsea is utterly redundant. In the world that the Russian oligarch has created around Stamford Bridge, there is no right or wrong way. There is only Roman's way. It is a mini-moral universe in which Abramovich's word is the Truth.

And anyone who enters that world, lives by that word.

So if Abramovich felt that he - the creator and intelligent designer of this world - was unsatisfied that his hundreds of millions had failed to produce what he desired, the elusive winning-with-style conundrum, then Jose's fate was sealed. In short, Roman saw everything that he had made, and behold, it was very good. But not great.

The ultimate irony in Mourinho's departure is that the man who portrayed himself as the quasi-supernatural 'Special One', was undone in a perfect enactment of the Christian theology that even the greatest man is subservient to the superior being.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

Moments of Truth

Most of the season is about opinions. This time of the year is about truths. Two years ago Steven Gerrard's perception that he would have to leave Liverpool in order to win major trophies was altered by the truth of their Champions League triumph. Earlier this term, Jose Mourinho's boss reckoned his manager was not the man to bring him that same trophy; over the next few weeks, beginning last night, he too will see the truth emerge, whatever that may be.

Tom Hicks and George Gillett, Liverpool's new owners, will have received a bracing dose of reality also. If they understood what they saw, or at least were properly briefed on what they were watching, they will have seen the true nature of their job. Of course, a glance at the league table could tell them about the gap between their new investment and Roman Abramovich's four-year-old one.

Sometimes, however, the hard facts of the league table get sidelined in favour of the cock-eyed hokum of optimism. Liverpool fans could, of course, point to the semi-final of 2005 to back up their team's chances. But the law of averages suggests that a team whose strike-force cost £54 million will generally prevail over one which paid £15 million for their front two.

Yes, truths are established at this time of year. It might become a truth, in a week's time, that Anfield's special European atmosphere, Rafa Benitez's tactical acumen or Steven Gerrard's virtuosity are powerful enough to redress the fact of Chelsea's financial strength and Joe Cole's single goal advantage.

But all too true for Liverpool supporters last night was the fact that Boudewijn Zenden, a mediocrity unwanted by Chelsea even in the pre-Abramovich, pre-Mourinho days, was the wasteful endpoint of much of their attacking ambitions in a Champions League semi-final. Unavoidably factual were Alvaro Arbeloa's limitations at full-back, both defensively and in constructive play. Plain as the nose on your face was the difference between Chelsea's awesome juggernaut in attack, Didier Drogba, and the honest toil of Liverpool's Dirk Kuyt.

There is an old football expression about on-field bad times: All your best players are sitting in the stand. It is used by exasperated fans convinced that the kids and journeymen on the bench must be the answer to their current plight.

Looking at the Liverpool bench, anyone castigating Rafa Benitez's selections would have been halted mid-expletive. Who would have been the better option than the woeful Zenden? Marc Gonzalez, the callow winger? Jermaine Pennant, the wastrel? Did hopeful balls directed toward a clambering Peter Crouch really represent an improvement for Liverpool when the big striker came on for Craig Bellamy.

Taking a goal lead to Anfield, having not conceded an away score, bringing back Michael Essien and looking right back to their solid, formidable best, it's hard not to see Chelsea completing the job next Tuesday. For all the ferocious backing that Liverpool will receive from their supporters, there remains a shortfall of true quality in their team, especially when presented with the challenge of beating a team with plenty of it.

Their owner's will be well aware of the need to redress that. Chelsea's owner, meanwhile, might just have to change his mind about his manager. After all, the truth will out.

Interestingly Enough, There Is Some History Between These Sides You Know...

Presumably Jose Mourinho watches this clip after coming in from the pub of a night.

"Let it go Jose," says Mrs.Mourinho.

"Was not goal! Was not goal!"

Was penalty and sending off?

Premiership: Endgame

If it was a movie the hero would be preparing to enter the enemy fortress, defuse the nuclear bomb and get off with the girl. If it was a meal the diners would be loosening belts and perusing the dessert menu. If it was a political regime the leader would be fretting about his legacy. As it's the climax of the Premiership season that we await, let's get clairvoyant on it....

Title Tussle
By Jiminy, I think we've got a thrilling title race on our hands!
For the first time since the 1999 denouement (when a Manchester United win over Spurs gave them the first leg of that treble you may have subsequently heard of, on occasion) we could see the destiny of football's most lucre-laden league decided on its last day.

Supposing Chelsea and United maintain their current status (United three points, and three goals, to the good) until the two meet on Wednesday, May 9th, and supposing that that match results in either a draw or a Chelsea win, then the visits of West Ham and Everton to Old Trafford and Stamford Bridge could provide the cue for much split-screen excitement on May 13th.


Judging by United's rootin'-tootin' attacking displays of recent weeks, it might seem as if Alex Ferguson's team are roaring up the finishing stretch, pulling wheelies like a geriatric, Scottish Valentino Rossi.



But United's golden statue could have feet of clay. At precisely the most inopportune moment, the defensive surety that has bedrocked United's success this season has wobbled. The injuries to Nemanja Vidic and Gary Neville would be difficult enough to cope with, but Edwin van der Saar's consequent jitters have not helped in the slightest.

Added to that, the sudden outbreak of harmony in Stamford Bridge - if the hug heard round the world turns out to mean a lasting detente between Jose Mourinho and Roman Abramovich - points to a club that have woken up after a difficult, uncomfortable sleep to find themselves well placed for an extraordinary quadruple haul of trophies.



The duel is therefore compelling: Chelsea's renewed focus and purpose, allied to their still intact indefatigability against United's high-wire walkers, desperately trying not to look down.



Both sides have mix of manageability, peskiness and peril amongst their remaining fixtures. United will expect to get the run-in off to a smooth start in their next two games, at home against Sheffield United and Middlesbrough. Chelsea, are away in their next two fixtures, travelling to those barflies at the last chance saloon, West Ham and then on to a Newcastle side with nothing to play for.



United then embark on what is undoubtedly the stress-test of their title ambitions. What the climb up Alpe d'Huez is to Tour de France competitors, or Amen Corner is to US Masters contenders, the road trip to Everton, Manchester City and Chelsea is for United's title hopes.



Chelsea, however, have by no means a gentle preamble to their hosting of United in the season's penultimate game. They entertain Bolton, then cross the city to the Emirates Stadium in the previous two matches, meeting two top six teams who are likely to be jousting for European berths to boot. It is conceivable, therefore, that both United and Chelsea could arrive at the season's explosive set-piece having shipped wounds.



If it does transpire that the title is decided on the last day, one suspects that West Ham - whose very nature predestines them to a preposterously heartbreaking last-gasp relegation - will have more to play for than Everton, who will probably arrive at Stamford Bridge with buckets and spades, their UEFA Cup status secured.



All the same, both of the top two should win their final games, which suggests that - calm down there Sky Sports! No-one likes a gloater! - their meeting could indeed be the evening of judgement for this year's Premiership title. 'Evening of Judgement'. I like it. Catchy.

Tomorrow: Mein Gott! Ooh La La! A look at European matters....

England Rules the Waves Once More

Nearly fifteen years after the establishment of both the Premiership and the Champions League, it seems, at last, that England's top clubs have achieved the supremacy that their league's marketers have long claimed to be the case.

Until Liverpool reached the 2005 final of Europe's premier club tournament, Manchester United's success in 1999 stood alone as almost a curiosity, and as a damning indictment of English clubs' failure to translate swagger and hype into real continental eminence.

Now, with at least one English team almost certain to be in this season's Champions League finale, and the strong possibility of two Premiership clubs lining out in the Olympic Stadium in Athens on May 23rd, English football looks to be returning to pre-Heysel levels of European dominance.

Manchester United's approach to what was a classically tricky second leg dilemma involved a high-stake risk/reward calculation. The policy of blitzkrieg that overwhelmed Roma before the 20th minute had been reached was undoubtedly a case of United playing supremely to their greatest strengths; but had Roma not yielded so soon and United burned up the jet fuel of their initial sorties, and had one of those long shots from Totti, Mexes or De Rossi found the net rather than fizzing perilously past Edwin van der Saar's right-hand post, United would have had an infinitely more challenging evening on their hands.

As it was, Roma wilted almost immediately in the heat of the sheer collective will of the home side's performance. United stretched the Italians all over the field, running from wide and deep, finding oceans of space where normally an Italian side playing away in Europe will present only an unbreachable dam.

When Roma had the ball, the desire of the United players to rid them of it was almost frenzied. From the unvaunted likes of Darren Fletcher (whose energetic fetch-and-give display put one in mind of Owen Hargreaves, whom United are likely to go to great expense to recruit in the summer) and Alan Smith, to Rooney and Ronaldo themselves, there was a combination of almost manic enthusiasm and ruthless precision to their play that was as breathtaking as anything Old Trafford has seen at anytime in Alex Ferguson's reign.

To Valencia, and another English team irresistibly enforcing their game on cowed European opponents. Chelsea may only have sealed the tie in the 90th minute of normal time, but Michael Essien's winner only confirmed on the scoreboard a supremacy which few must ever have enjoyed at the Mestalla.

Where United had deployed in excelsis their optimum attributes of pace and movement, Chelsea too had their best assets on show: an overwhelming combination of power and strength, made flesh through superhuman fitness levels. The Ghanaian's winner encapsulated Chelsea's method: the shot simply tore past Canizares in the Valencia goal in a manner that would have made attempting to stop it seem like puny impertinence.

Between, roughly, the Battle of Waterloo in 1815 and the rise of the new German and American states in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, the world existed in what was referred to as a 'Pax Brittanica'. Britain's military, imperial and commercial strength dominated global affairs, British values and standards were promulgated and her pre-eminence was clear.

It seems, with the Premiership television revenues set to continue enriching England's football clubs as colonial profits once did Britain's imperial centre, that we may be embarking on a footballing 'Pax Anglica'.

The Other Super 8: Champions League Quarter Finals

PSV Eindhoven v Liverpool

AC Milan v Bayern Munich

Roma v Manchester United

Chelsea v Valencia

If the Champions League were a ouija board, and we rapt onlookers were slumber partying teenagers, then it might seem as if Dark Lord is guiding the upturned shot glass to spell out 'L-I-V-E-R-P-O-O-L', that is until the girl in the Manchester United pyjamas whimpers "I don't want to do this anymore"...

Certainly the omens are good for the Reds: they've drawn PSV Eindhoven, the weakest side remaining in the tournament, and one that they have already met and beaten in the group stages; they play the second leg at Anfield; judging by Saturday's demolition of Arsenal, they appear to have come out of the international break in fine fettle; their opponents are in the midst of a domestic slump and are missing their most influential player (the Brazilian defender Alex).

Old Lucifer might have a point here. Surely PSV can't finagle their way past another superior team through defensive sturdiness and a couple of moments of opportunism? Still, Liverpool will remember their exit to Benfica in last season's competition and will want to bring a result back from the Philipsstadion. And who's that, communicating from the other side....is that you Arsene...what's he saying? B-E-W-A-R-E P-S-V......

From petrified teenagers to greying patricians: AC Milan and Bayern Munich are, of course, super-colossi of European football, jangling 10 Champions League and European Cups (as your Daddy used to call it) in their pockets between them. But the relative ordinariness the current incarnations of these two and the likes of Real Madrid (vanquished by Bayern in the last round) is stated as proof of the non-vintage status of this season's tournament.

Certainly Milan's last 16 victory over Celtic, in which they managed a single goal in 210 minutes, did not evoke the glories of the Rossoneri's past, and the sight of Bayern languishing fourth in the Bundesliga is a very rare one indeed in the normal run of German football.

Although a victory over league leaders Schalke 04 at the weekend should put some pep in the Bayern step, Milan should be fancied here for the tournament savviness that has seen them reach the quarter-finals for the fifth time in-a-row, for the fact that they clobbered Bayern 5-2 on aggregate in last year's round of 16, and for the loss to the Bavarians of Oliver Kahn through suspension.

To Roma and Manchester United and the guiltless checking out of Totti. The bold Francesco has attracted all the attention in the run-up to this game, having, as he is, the season of his life in Serie A.

The key to Totti and Roma's success was the decision by new coach Luciano Spalletti (how very Italian this) to play without a centre-forward at all, instead playing the Roma fans' idol in a deeper-lying role, allowing the midfield triumvirate of Simone Perotta, Daniele de Rossi and the Brazilian Mancini - he of the astonishing quadruple-stepover goal in the win in Lyon last time out - to attack in support.

United will be feeling top of the world after the demolition of Blackburn at the weekend, but prior to the freewheeling second half display on Saturday they suffered what could turn out to be a fateful blow to their lofty season-end prospects: the injury to Nemanja Vidic.

The rock-solid Serbian's absence might be felt less tomorrow night, however, than against most domestic rivals. Alex Ferguson will already have been contemplating playing a 'marker' type defender on Totti, and the mobility of, perhaps, Wes Brown might suit.

United are missing a whole back four, however: Vidic, Gary Neville, Patrice Evra and Mikael Silvestre are all unavailable, and the Stadio Olimpico is a bad place to go without your most trusted defensive troops. A clean-sheet will be United's aim; it might be Roma's too, who'll fancy repeating the trick they pulled on Lyon on United.

Chelsea probably drew the shortest straw of the English clubs by getting Valencia, but then the Spaniards will probably have felt the same themselves. Chelsea remain the most convincingly attired of the English clubs, and perhaps even of anyone left in the tournament. In the event of their procurement of a victory at Stamford Bridge tomorrow night, who would you rather send to bludgeon out an away result in Europe?

With that Shevchenko guy starting to look like that other Shevchenko guy who once graced this tournament with Dynamo Kiev and AC Milan, Salomon Kalou starting to look like a footballer and Joe Cole finally returning to the squad, they have reason to fancy the latter stages of the tournament that Jose Mourinho would, I believe, choose to win of the three that they remain in contention for.

Chelsea Send Out Distress Message

The beginning of the end for Jose? United lose their nerve 'ten minutes from title'? Liverpool as realistic title contenders? Arsenal too, maybe?

Trying to interpret the messages from Grand Slam weekend is almost like being in a NASA laboratory attempting to decipher what appears to be a communication from another planet: behind all the white noise and static, what does it say?

With just seven minutes to go in yesterday's match at the Emirates Stadium (which will have felt more like home for Arsenal fans than at any time since the move from Highbury, thanks to the memorable manner of their victory) the interpretation seemed clear: Manchester United were surely champions.

In a match of few clear-cut chances, they looked to have edged out one of their biggest rivals with the type of gritty performance usually seen as the hallmark of title-winners. Arsenal had rarely seriously threatened Edwin Van der Saar's goal, and with the clock ticking down, United looked to be effectively closing out a priceless win.

Three rare things - two whipped-in Arsenal crosses from wide and one Thierry Henry header - later and the champions-elect handed back their de facto crown.

Review and revise: United fumbled their big chance? Bottled it by shrinking back into defence of their lead?

Of course not. A draw would have been an appropriate result, the win flattering an Arsenal team who never imposed their game on the opposition. Certainly United attempted to close the game down from too far out, leaving themselves vulnerable to a team whose bite comes from many potential sources. But United were generally more impressive yesterday than in defeat to Arsenal at Old Trafford last September and remain the most convincing candidates for the title at this point.

It could be argued that they are flat-track bullies, having taken only four points from twelve in meetings with their main rivals this season. But in a league where the vast majority of the clubs resemble bespectacled playground weeds, the bully is king.

No, pretty much the only clear message coming out of the weekend whose hype was, for once, almost matched by the excitement on the pitch, was that the conflict between Chelsea's manager and their owner has reached a grave point, such that the team is unrecognisable from that which won the last two league titles.

The sources of the disagreement are well known: Jose Mourinho's frustration at the club's lack of transfer activity at a time when their defensive resources have been stripped bare; and the resentment caused by the failed signature of Andrij Shevchenko: from Roman Abramovich's viewpoint in the manager's inability to integrate him, and from Mourinho's due to the striker's favoured relationship with the owner.

The nature of this feud is cancerous, so malign are the attitudes of both sides. Mourinho's team were so obviously infected by their manager's defeatism before the game at Anfield on Saturday, that one almost suspected their feebleness to be planned. It's testament to our belief in anything being possible when it comes to Mourinho that we could consider him sending out his team to lose, so as to illustrate his point to Abramovich.

But in effect, even if not purposely, that is what his negative attitude succeeded in doing. Rather than attemting to inspire his team to an heroic triumph against the odds, Mourinho's side had all the fight of lemmings approaching a cliff-top.

This becomes the most significant point to emerge from the weekend because - unlike the other three top sides, who demonstrated at least aspects of their best qualities - Chelsea appeared utterly stripped of what made them the best team in England. The loss of such strength of spirit and unity of purpose is vastly more difficult to redress than mere bad form.

Perhaps the return of John Terry from injury could re-instill these lost virtues. But the salving of the wounds of an entire club would seem beyond any one player, no matter how influential.

The fragile but powerful balance of egos between Mourinho and Abramovich which made Chelsea so strong, so quickly, has been wildly disrupted, and the mess that has resulted on the field does not remotely resemble a championship winning team.

United Lack Ruthlessness of Chelsea

A pivotal day, and no mistake. The gap at the top of the Premiership, hitherto contemptuously dismissed by Jose Mourinho, is now down to two points. In a tight title race - if this Premiership rivalry does continue in a nip and tuck fashion until its conclusion - it'll be the tiny details that matter.


Like, had Eggert Magnusson kept his powder dry for another couple of weeks and left Alan Pardew in his job, would Manchester United have met a West Ham side stumbling haplessly in the relegation zone, rather than the team which defeated them yesterday via a clear case of New Manager Bounce?

The Hammers were changed, but not unrecognisable. No - they bore such a striking resemblance to the effervescent side that skipped up the Premiership and into the FA Cup final last season that the recently sacked Pardew would be excused for suing Alan Curbishley for copyright breach.


Pardew's demise would have been unthinkable only a few short months ago, as his team's attitude to their return to the Premiership seemed to create a new model for newly promoted teams - one characterised by a fearlessness and wholehearted commitment to attacking football rather than craven protectionism.


Pardew lost the ability to draw such performances from his team, but they had plenty of that bite on show yesterday, and it was enough to expose the soft edges of Manchester United.


A few hours earlier Chelsea had responded to the slipping away of three points with a violent, retaliatory bludgeoning of the impertinent Toffeemen. Ballack, Lampard and Drogba's goals were all shows of strength, stunning strikes that denied Everton a well-deserved point.


United's response to West Ham's new-found fight seemed flimsy in comparison. They peppered West Ham's goal and ran at the back four incessantly; but there was something lacking from their advances - they seemed blunt, unthreatening.


Yesterday saw Cristiano Ronaldo at his worst for United. The graver the situation, the more inclined he seems to pointless dribbles and wasteful long range shooting. Just like in their defeat to Celtic, United were presented with a free-kick in an advanced area late on. And just as on that occasion, Ronaldo chose to shoot from distance, driving the ball into the wall, rather than clipping it into the box. The problem is not necessarily the decision itself, rather simply that the boy's temperament suggests that there is no way he would have the collectedness required to score at such a juncture.


That's not to pick on Ronaldo alone. Wayne Rooney hasn't played in the manner of the future great he is supposedly destined to become for some time. Scholes' influence was blunted by the rejuvenated Nigel Reo-Coker (how Pardew must fume at his erstwhile skipper's sudden reawakening), whose goal saw United's defence carved open alarmingly easily.


After United and Chelsea drew a few weeks back, we were by no means alone in suggesting that their squad would not have the depth for a successful campaign. A couple of days later, United thumbed their noses at this idea by comfortably defeating Everton 3-0, with squad players such as John O'Shea, Darren Fletcher and Kieran Richardson all starting.


Yesterday demonstrated where their lack of options gets found out: not at Old Trafford or when they get a goal in front against opposition who lack the belief required for a comeback, rather in situations like yesterday, where a spirited side gets ahead of them. They never seemed to have the requisite ruthlessness within them that helped Chelsea to dismiss Everton.


All is not lost however. United's inability to break through West Ham yesterday looked like a situation tailor-made for the gentleman sitting behind Alex Ferguson in the stand. Henrik Larsson took in the match yesterday; the Swede's arrival looks as well-timed as any of the forward runs with which he made his name.

Champions League Sweet Sixteen

Podgy Swiss fingers were put to their best use other than the consumption of stacks of luxury handmade chocolates today as the Champions League second round (or last 16, if you wish to make it sound more exclusive) draw was made.

As is the norm when plastic balls are plucked from erstwhile goldfish bowls, some protagonists fare better than others. For every club exec chuckling with confidence during the post-draw canapés, there is another suit bawling in the corner, crying "Why??!"

On the face of it, Liverpool secretary Bryce Morrison, representing the 2005 champions in Nyon today, would be the inconsolable wretch, seeing as his club was paired with Barcelona. With admirable optimism, however, he refused to be cowed by the prospect of playing last season's free-flowing champions.

"We hope we can go all the way once again, starting with this big one!" quoth he, presumably too woozy from the complimentary wine to conjure the image of Ronaldinho slithering past a statuesque Sami Hyypia.

Whereas the Pool were ill-rewarded for their group-topping feats, the other English teams got the spawny draws one might expect from being seeded. As if to continue the theme of retribution for last year, Manchester United, having exacted revenge on Benfica in the group stage, will now get an opportunity to pay back Lille for defeating them at the Stade de France in the 2006-06 competition.

As with their superiority over Benfica, United have come on more than enough since losing to the French to go through comfortably.

Arsenal will undoubtedly make heavy work of PSV Eindhoven, but should also progress. The return of Jose Mourinho to Porto will provide what is generally dubbed "spice" to their tie, but the bold Jose is well used to whistles and boos - and his team will have little trouble there.

While all over Milan, impeccably shod and coiffed folks may have been rattling their improbably tiny coffee cups in pleasure at their team's draw against Celtic (arguably the weakest of the second seeds on paper); the corresponding celebratory clank of Tennents Special Export cans in the East End of Glasgow might also have been heard.

Milan are in what is known as a 'period of transition', which is a euphemism for being rubbish. Even without their 8 point deduction for match-fixing naughtiness, the Rossoneri would only have been in fifth in Serie A, rather than the 15th place in which they now languish. The loss of Shevchenko's goals has not been properly addressed, their three main strikers - Alberto Gilardino, Filippo Inzaghi and Ricardo Oliveira - only managing four league goals between them. Meanwhile Paolo Maldini and Cafu continue to wearily police the defence, and the team is generally over reliant on Kaka's creativity.

The other ties are rather tasty; perennial powerhouses Real Madrid and Bayern Munich meet, Valencia take on Inter and Roma face Lyon. Lyon are the team to tip these days when trying to show how shrewd a football judge you are, and it will be intriguing to see if they can finally reproduce in the latter stages their scintillating group stages form.

Its hard to see past old money, however: Barca, Real and Inter are still the front runners, with Chelsea the only new name that might get on the trophy.

Courageous Arsenal Worthy of Point

In the end, the Thin Red Line held out. Nine brave young privates - as well as Jens Lehmann and Gilberto Silva - against the four star generals of Chelsea. The Few scuppered the Many.

Arsenal supporters may baulk initially at the characterisation of their team in such lowly terms, being as we are the only two short calendar years since their team was dubbed "the Invincibles". Paul Merson, in the Sky studio, was certainly displeased at the caution of his team's first half approach, for example.

But the respective forces that ranged up against each other yesterday were so unevenly matched that the pride which Arsene Wenger will have felt in his young team's performance was fully justified.

More justified, though, than any sense of injustice which, knowing the one-eyed Frenchman's usual attitude to objectivity, he will probably be harbouring over Chelsea's equaliser. It certainly did appear that Ashley Cole, the disowned former son, fouled Aleksandr Hleb in the lead-up to Michael Essien's astonishing strike. But Chelsea rattled the woodwork so often that the Stamford Bridge groundsman will probably be touching up the paintwork on the goalposts this morning.

Having said that, for the second time in a couple of weeks, Chelsea pulled themselves around by dispensing with what is becoming a mystifying initial tactical set-up. Although Arsenal only went ahead in the 78th minute, eleven or so minutes after Chelsea brought on Arjen Robben and Shaun Wright-Phillips, that opener was much less in keeping with the run of play than had it been scored before Chelsea went to 4-3-3.

Even with only twelve minutes remaining, the likelihood of Chelsea's scoring at least one in response seemed quite high, and as it turned out, they could have had several.

The strange thing about the fact that Chelsea have had to change to the 4-3-3 formation to save matches is that it was exactly the system that had brought Jose Mourinho's side success in the first two seasons of his management. Clearly, the signing of Michael Ballack and Andrij Shevchenko - and the need for their deployment - has forced Mourinho into an unnatural reshuffle of his tactics.

Also, the good form of Didier Drogba this season has meant that the man whom many felt would make way for Shevchenko has been himself, as Mourinho called it, "untouchable".
But the introduction of the wingers Robben and Wright-Phillips brought a dynamism to Chelsea's attack that is generally non-existent as they seek to bludgeon teams with the heavyweight midfield four of Ballack, Lampard, Essien and Makalele.

Prior to the changes, Arsenal's heroic young defenders, with tremendous assistance from the heroic Gilberto Silva - a man who appears to be becoming more naturally suited to the captain's armband than Therry Henry is - were able to hold out the powerful champions. At times it was quite desperate stuff: Fabregas' clearance off the line from Essien, Gilberto Silva's lunging distraction as the Ghanaian shot on another occasion.

But the guerilla tactics kept Arsenal hanging in there, breaking with purpose and threat. The goal was typical of this approach, the Gunners moving up the pitch, committing numbers enough to stretch Chelsea and leave the space for Flamini.

On another day Chelsea would have overran them, but the character and courage the young Arsenal team showed made them worthy of a point.

Chelsea's Point More Equal Than United's

Showdown Sunday was the obligatory soubriquet for what could also, more mundanely, be known as Manchester United Versus Chelsea - Sky coming over all Don King, as it likes to do on these occasions, in order to throw a little Vegas neon onto a gloomy late November evening in the northwest of England. The marketing of games such as these – Showdowns, Judgement Days, Days of Reckoning - is intended to suggest the likelihood of decisions being made, rights being wronged, credentials being established, slights being redressed: that, whatever happens, the world as we know it is about to be seismically upturned, and bold new truths established.

Unless, of course, the game ends in a draw.

So was yesterday just the equivalent of the finger-jabbing, hold-me-back stage of a barroom fight, where a couple of blows are thrown but resolution forestalled until a later reckoning? Or did we learn something pertinent about the destination of the 2006-07 Premiership title?

To my mind, we have established that Chelsea will probably, once again, win the league.

I suspect that yesterday’s match will prove to be something of a microcosm for this season. United struck boldly to the front, fizz and enthusiasm capitalising on a disjointed Chelsea. With Rooney dropping into the left side of midfield the home side outnumbered their opponents in that area, narrowly clustered as they were in a stodgy first-half set-up.

Tactical arrangements aside, United played that first period with a similar hunger to that which bustled Liverpool so convincingly aside when the two sides met last month. The goal was symptomatic: Carrick digging the ball out from Chelsea’s dithering grasp, from whence it was shuttled to Rooney, lurking mischievously - like a schoolboy with a water-balloon on an overpass - in the inside left channel. His pass to Saha was the sort of lacerating intrusion that the 20-year-old’s vision and daring regularly provide, and Saha’s finish was a fine response to any who have questioned the Frenchman following his difficulties in Glasgow, unfairly in light of his so-far excellent contribution this season.

Three points up, and now a goal up, United making the running.

But with the crack of his half time tactical whip, Jose Mourinho changed the game. Arjen Robben was brought on and positioned out left, hugging a touchline hitherto unloved by men in blue shirts and Michael Essien, ostensibly positioned in the bijou billet of right back, instead surveyed the entirety of that flank like it a greedy landlord in custody of an ancient familial estate.

The Ghanaian’s strength and athleticism saw his intrusions into United territory cause mortal wounds to United’s left side. The corner from which Ricardo Carvalho headed the Blues’ equaliser resulted from an Essien incision.

That aside, Chelsea, with their formation more conducive to using the width of the pitch, proceeded to intensify that brand of ‘boa-constrictor football’ - as I like to call it – that they base their success on, the force of their physical dominance (not to be confused with what is referred to as an old fashioned ‘physical’ approach, which is a different, less sophisticated beast) suppressing teams, suffocating them with their superior power.

The draw was therefore a fair reflection of the game. Why, then, does the match suggest Chelsea’s league ambitions to be more credible than those of the team three points ahead of them?

If the last week has shown up one thing, it is the marked thinness of the United squad. Upon seeing their team go a goal down against Celtic in midweek, United fans watched their manager attempt to rescue the situation via the introduction of Patrice Evra and John O’Shea. Similarly on Sunday, injuries to Christiano Ronaldo and Louis Saha facilitated O’Shea's and Darren Fletcher's leaving of the bench.

Chelsea, on the other hand, were able to call on Arjen Robben and Joe Cole in their efforts to reel in United. Neither made decisive contributions, but the principle is clear: in reserve Chelsea can call on players of real potential menace, where United have mere utility men.

Which is of no consequence if United’s first team stay fit and are capable of steering United in the successful manner in which they have propelled their club so far this season. But, facing into the muck and bullets of an English football winter and, with every point being a prized commodity these days, it seems very unlikely that United’s front-liners will dodge the perils of injury, suspension and loss of form indefinitely. Chelsea, on the other hand, would appear better equipped for the trenches.

In consolation, United have the impending return from injury of Ole Gunnar Solskjaer and a January transfer window to come, in the likely event of further reinforcements being required.

Still, in much the same way as they turned the tide of yesterday’s match in its second act, the inexorable resolve, strength in depth and grim, champion’s determination that Chelsea possess should, eventually, overwhelm United.