table. Four teams were involved: the Malaysian national side, ourselves, Newcastle and Birmingham.
We had problems with the trip back, as there was a strike on at Heathrow and so some time was lost before a flight could be found to take the party to Gatwick. Nothing too serious of course, but because we had only two days’ rest I did feel a bit sorry for the players who were going home – I would be flying out straight from Rome – although I have to admit my mind was on other things, and above all on the transfer market. Duff had still not signed and the rumours linking him to Old Trafford continued to make the headlines, but I knew about the commitment and determination of our new owner, and when I happened to notice a girl leafing through one such paper at the airport, I had to smile.
Taking off at noon on Monday 21 July, we honestly did not know that this particular day would be potentially one of the most important in the club’s history. If not the most important, then certainly the most expensive. As we slipped across the skies on our way to Malaysia, two more players signed contracts with us: Wayne Bridge in the morning, and Damien Duff in the afternoon. A total cost of £24 million to the club, and a great double present for me and all the fans.
The flight lasted twelve hours and when we arrived in Kuala Lumpur at 7 am local time, aside from the good news, we were all a bit weary. Time for Professor Sassi to take charge of things. Tiredness and the need to get the body moving have to be balanced against the temptation to give in to jet lag and flake out on a bed. The lads did some stretching and a few exercises in the hotel, so that we at least avoided going straight out into the heat. I had taken my family along, certainly not with any intention of belittling the tournament, but because I felt that visiting the Far East would be a nice experience for them. Ultimately, no-one was disappointed because it was a genuinely constructive trip, from all points of view. The members of the squad began to get to know each other better, it was in Malaysia that the work done previously began to be put into practice, and while we were getting on with our job, my wife Rosanna and my daughter Claudia also enjoyed themselves, as I expected. I too was satisfied with the outcome, for all of the technical reasons mentioned, though in all honesty I never like going to such far-off places during the pre-season period. I worry about the effect of long hours in flight on the players’ legs and, especially in this particular case, the impact of a climate where the heat makes proper recovery impossible. I was afraid we might start off badly and that it could then have taken us more than a month to get back into optimum condition. We could not avoid the heat, as in any case it was sweaty even standing still, but on the other hand Sassi as usual had done his homework very carefully and we organized ourselves accordingly. We did a lot of stretching, and when training on the pitch we worked a great deal on ball possession.
It was also a pleasant experience from a social perspective, because all the teams stayed in the same hotel and this was a nice way for players and staff to meet, spend time and eat together; in other words, a chance even for opponents to enjoy each other’s company.
After a delay of twenty-four hours, Duff and Bridge also joined the party, accompanied by club doctor Neale Fraser who had completed their medicals. The jigsaw was not finished yet, but it was beginning to take shape.
That Wednesday there was also a highly enjoyable official reception with a banquet at the British High Commission, given in honour of the three teams, who naturally were present. The next day was a match day, but before the early training session (8.30 am was the only time of day to beat the climate), we received the news that we had been drawn in Geneva to face the winners of the clash between Maccabi Tel Aviv and Zilina in our qualifying round of the Champions League competition. Decidedly not the kind of tie one would have asked from a benevolent Hand of Fortune, but we did not pay too much attention. In the evening we were due to play, and we did so in front of 20,000 enthusiastic spectators.
As the highest placed of the three Premier League teams at the end of the last season, our first match in the tournament was against the Malaysian national team, and on paper it should have been easy. Looking at the scoreline afterwards, there had in effect been a difference between the sides, although we had to sweat to make the final – in the true sense of the word! The heat was stifling and the opposition, being used to it, were extremely quick on their feet. We went ahead through Forssell after 35 minutes and they equalized four minutes later. Then in the second half we stretched away with goals by Hasselbaink, Gudjohnsen and Johnson. In addition to the goals and the win, I made a record in my notebook of two assists by Duff.
The next day was Saturday and I left the players free to do as they pleased, not as reward for a victory that might have been taken for granted and which clearly had no great significance, but because recharging the batteries is always very important. As for me, I took the opportunity to dedicate some time to Rosanna and Claudia. I don’t want to sound precious and in any case I am simply not the type, but obviously they are the most important part of my life and to have them there made me very happy. And their presence perhaps forced me to take a break mentally, as I needed to, otherwise I know I would have spent my time on more plans, deals and ideas for next season. Taking the mind off the job at that moment would be good for me as well. We went to see the Butterfly Park and the Bird Park, which were beautiful and relaxing. Then when the time came for lunch we sought out a typical Malaysian restaurant. In London, which is a wonderful city from this point of view and with so much to offer, Rosanna and I try out every kind of cuisine possible and imaginable (Claudia lives mostly in Rome where she is studying Political Sciences at university). So what better occasion to enjoy a good meal than this? Fortunately we did the rounds of the market after eating, because on one of the stalls we saw something – my daughter and I didn’t have the courage to ask what animal it might be – that looked rather like a chopped up rat.
A little shopping next, and for my daughter this is very rare, but to round off the day we went to try a Thai massage. The best place, they told us, was in a hotel situated on the other side of a lake from our own. Getting out of the boat, we also walked across a golf course, which at sunset was a truly enchanting spectacle even for me, although (don’t hold it against me) I never play the game at all. Once they had shown us into the special rooms we were curious to see how it was all done, and with what kind of ceremony, who we might meet … European managers? Local politicians? Then the doors opened wide and who did we find? Of course! Some of my very own players, including the inseparable Bridge and Johnson who, quite rightly I must say, had had the same idea as us. It was both an experience and a way to relax.
On Sunday, with news arriving from London that the negotiations with Manchester United to bring Seba Veron to Stamford Bridge that had started a while back were still deadlocked, we took the field for the final. This time there were nearly 42,000 spectators on the terraces, and what is more, we had Newcastle as our opponents. In this match we definitely played well, even if the score remained 0 – 0 after 90 minutes. And there was a good performance from Alexis Nicolas, who had a start in this game. The young Cypriot midfielder regularly captains our reserve side trained by Mick McGiven, a man of great importance to our club. To decide the destination of the trophy we had to go to penalties, and at 3 – 2 we really thought we had it won, because next up was Jimmy, and he had never missed from the spot for us. But their keeper Given surpassed himself by diverting the ball onto the post, and after Bellamy then scored it was down to sudden death. John Terry (JT) put away his kick and at that point it was the turn of Jermaine Jenas. He tried to chip the keeper, but incredibly sent the ball right over the bar. Instinctively I looked at Bobby Robson, realizing in the same instant that we had won our first trophy. He was furious, and still fuming in the dressing room, so I believe. Terry was captain and it was he who lifted the Cup, which I trusted would not be the last of the season. It was also my first trophy with Chelsea, and, hoping it would be the first of a big collection, back in the dressing room I picked up JT’s jersey, which had the Asia Cup emblem blazoned on the arm (like the Premiership emblem on our regular jerseys). I got John to autograph it subsequently at Stamford Bridge. And so we left Malaysia decidedly wealthier in practical experience and memories, and with one indelible image – our fitness coach, Roberto Sassi, naked on the table in the middle of the dressing room (a good thing he’s small …) dancing with the Cup tight in his grasp. One thing I could be sure of: I already had the makings of my squad.