Love affair: Chelsea fans celebrate prior to the pre-season friendly match against Borussia Dortmund, which ended in a 1-1 draw. Photo: Stacy Revere/Getty Images
Wednesday.
The pressure of being asked to fill the inimitable Paddy Harper’s column inches this week is unbearable. But in the fire there is opportunity. Specifically, a rare window to counterpose Harper’s rabid, unconditional love for the Arsenal.
It’s not like the Gooners need any extra airtime anyway. They look set for this weekend’s new season; some sharp signings will undoubtedly further steel up the side that shot above expectations last time out.
That same enthusiasm is not shared by those of us of a Blue persuasion. We’re watching through squinted eyes to find out if Chelsea’s 2023 pantomime is over.
It’s not even really a case of optimism or pessimism … rather daunting, debilitating uncertainty. Uncertainty borne of the realisation that no one recognises this side.
A little over two years ago Thomas Tuchel lifted the Champions League, the undisputed pinnacle of club football. Today, only three players who took to the Porto pitch that night remain — the immortal Thiago Silva and the mirrored wingbacks Ben Chilwell and Reece James.
The pace of change has been nauseating. Perhaps even existentially challenging.
Any football fan has spent incalculable hours attempting in vain to articulate to a friend, husband or wife why they support the team they do. Matters of the heart are not easily explained, not even to oneself. But when everything you’ve known has been stripped away, it must be asked what exactly it is that you’re still in love with?
The question must be sent down to the recesses of the soul.
Of course, comings and goings are nothing new. Chelsea fans have long had to fend off the perpetual, inane allegation that former owner Roman Abromavich “ruined football” with his transfer spend.
Yet even in our past Russian sugar daddy’s most profligate moods, the team retained a consistent core — in personnel and philosophy. The presence of Cech; the guile of Cole; the irresistible drive of Drogba; the leadership of Lampard.
These were unbreakable pillars in Heraclitus’ river of flux that kept a winning identity afloat for a decade. Today, there is no equal. (Although the news of James taking the full-time captaincy this week is cause for some solid chest-thumping.)
If this all sounds esoteric to you non-football fans then there is some bad news for you. Your country, and in many ways your life, is being governed by this same asinine level of thinking.
The plight of democracy has long been that it is uncomfortably analogous to fanatical sport. We all wear the same colours to mark our allegiance, swear at anybody wearing the wrong ones, gather in groups to sing and cheer, and slavishly support our team no matter what — even if our captain sleeps with his best friend’s wife. Completely irrational behaviour.
That’s a problem in a system built on the premise that ideas should be shared and traded based on their worth. And South Africa is now facing down the consequences.
Electoral attendance has been declining for some years. The longer we continue on that trajectory the more the legitimacy of the result will come into question. At the very least we are braced for a coalition pageant next year.
Most poll analysts will tell you that the cause is simple: disillusioned ANC supporters are not showing up. Burned by their own party, erstwhile supporters would rather stay home than cast their vote for anyone else.
Much of the explanation is tethered to the nuances of the revolutionary party taking power and just what that means — even 30 years later. But responsibility must also undeniably fall on the failure of anyone to offer a meaningful, broad alternative.
Our opposition continually behaves like boorish football fans, ready to spew objections before the words have even left the other side’s mouth.
Even if Manchester United falters, you could hardly expect their faithful to switch to Burnley Football Club if that’s the only alternative.
Next season, election and football, is going to be a rough one. Or maybe that’s just the Paddy Harper imposter syndrome speaking.