a new era, and anyone who fails to grasp the situation will not have a great future. This is the time to lay foundations for a big structure, and there can be no question of those foundations being shaky.
MSK Zilina v Chelsea, Champions League Qualifier, 1st Leg, Pod Dubnom, 13 August 2003
I decided to play 4 – 4 – 2, but in particular, to start Veron on the right. Zilina took the field adopting a cautious approach, with a lone striker up front and little appetite for attack. They were obviously wary of us even with home advantage, more so than against Maccabi, their opponents in the previous round, but hoped to repeat the upset by exploiting space on the break. As it turned out, they had one chance at the beginning, when after just three minutes Desailly was forced to make a rather scrambled clearance, but after that little or nothing else. We played the match as we should have, deservedly running out as 2 – 0 winners with a goal by Eidur Gudjhonsen and an own goal also resulting from a move of his. Getting off on the right foot is always important, and even more so for us, with all the talk that Chelsea generated during the summer. But besides the result, I was happy about the attitude of the squad and the tactical flexibility I had sensed.
The Liverpool date was already near, but the transfer window had not yet closed and I was hoping not only that the players I had asked for would materialize, but also that they would be available as soon as possible, with preparation of the squad in mind. The bigger the names, the more complicated the negotiations turn out. In discussions with the management we had agreed to look for a holding midfielder and a forward. However, they had to be players who could make a difference to our squad, and, given the top-class players we already had, the circle was now closing on possible targets. For the midfielder, I was very keen on Claude Makelele, not least in view of the fact that he was unsettled at Real Madrid; and for the forward, I liked the look of Hernan Crespo, or, alternatively, Fernando Morientes. Inter wanted to sell the Argentinian as they needed cash, but they were asking too much, whereas in the case of the Frenchman at Real the situation was more complex, diplomatically in particular. My plan, as I had explained clearly to Abramovich right from our first meeting, was to cover every position with two players, both of whom I could consider as first choices. I needed another two pieces for the jigsaw, just like these.
In the meantime, the great day had arrived. No Mutu unfortunately, since, as I had feared, the transfer documentation from the Italian Football Federation did not come through in time, and we were at the airport ready to board for Liverpool. Ready for the biggest and most exciting adventure of our career. The 2003/04 Premiership campaign was about to get underway.
Liverpool v Chelsea, Anfield, 17 August 2003
We were taking up more or less where we had left off at the end of last season. A token of continuity that produced a positive feeling inside, though needless to say, Jesper Gronkjaer had scored that famous goal at Stamford Bridge three months ago, whereas now at Liverpool we were about to embark on a new era. It was a match like any other against top-level opposition, and simplicity itself to prepare for from the psychological standpoint. It practically prepares itself. The wait is exciting for everybody. Everyone is on edge, and in fact my job sometimes is to lower the tension. The problem was, I would be missing not only Mutu, but the injured Petit as well.
So I decided – keeping faith with my nickname ‘the Tinkerman’ – that I would field a completely new lineup. Yes, even though this was such an important match, I had no doubts about my decision to pick what I saw as the side that would give us the best result. I was putting the maturity of my team to the test, straight away. On paper it was a 4 – 1 – 4 – 1. In practice, I had Geremi in front of the back four, Johnson, Terry, Desailly and Bridge, then two central playmakers in Lampard and Veron, a lone striker up front, Gudjhonsen, and two out wide ready to cut in from the wings, Duff on the right and Gronkjaer on the left. An odd sort of formation in the eyes of the press, but I saw it as giving them both the chance to get themselves into shooting positions on their preferred foot.
Houllier had his usual 4 – 4 – 2 with Owen up front and Heskey and Kewell (wonderful footballer) playing off him on either side, plus the threat of Murphy able to score or provide from further back. They were playing a diamond midfield, frequently changing the point man to upset our plans.
A good game and at the end a great result, though it was certainly not easy. In recent years we had always been undone at Anfield and punished well beyond what we deserved, and this time we all wanted it to finish differently to ensure a good start to our new adventure.
Liverpool started strongly, with Carlo saving well in the first few minutes from Murphy and coming out to deny Owen, but after that, everyone began to discover the new Chelsea: a team with the right balance, attitude, character and top players. Qualities summed up in our first goal, scored appropriately enough by Veron who, with perfect timing, finished off a splendid build-up involving Johnson, Desailly and Lampard, with the final surge and cross coming from Gronkjaer.
Perhaps it was the importance of an eagerly awaited match, or the names of the players and teams involved, but it hardly seemed like a season opener. High tempo, a lively atmosphere, the feeling of something already being at stake. I had made my three substitutions, introducing Gallas, Cole and Hasselbaink without changing the plan, and we seemed to be controlling the game without too much trouble. Then a mistake. Bridge was surprised by Kewell on the left-hand edge of the area, and knocked him over. Whistle. Penalty. The way the match was going, a draw would have been an injustice, and when I saw Owen send his spot-kick wide I was thinking almost that we had earned the mistake. But hardly had the thought occurred when, incredibly, the referee ordered the kick to be retaken because Carlo had moved. He judged that the half-step forward made by Carlo to launch his dive was illegal. Absurd! Unfair both in a sporting sense and from the standpoint of the rules as well, because on this basis every penalty awarded would have to be retaken or repeated ad infinitum. There was nothing I could do, but I was furious inside. I must have said something to the fourth official, though I cannot really remember what. And to think I am sometimes accused of being impassive, hiding my feelings! Frankly this was too much, but all I could do was watch as Owen converted. Back to square one, and in my mind I was already battling the demons of the last two encounters we had played and lost at Anfield. Legendary temple of football it might be, but precisely for this reason I did not want it to become a permanent jinx for us.
But then, three minutes from time, Jimmy latched on perfectly to one of Lampard’s splendid passes and scored, releasing all of our anger (and his too, I imagine, as he had started the game on the bench). Off came the shirt, and as he paraded his muscles, he was symbolically showing off the muscle of the entire team. Yes, we really had carried on from where we left off, with a win against Liverpool. But in different conditions. Different players and different perspectives, but the same aim: to be a team with big ambitions. In this sense we had just passed a test of no mean importance, athletically and mentally, and I was obviously very happy.
Hardly any time to celebrate, though, and I soon had other situations to address. We had still not wrapped up the negotiations for Makelele and Crespo, but I was optimistic for a successful outcome on both deals.
Unfortunately, having top-class players also means having to do without them when their national teams are playing, and indeed after the win at Liverpool I had to witness what I knew all too well would happen. Harlington was almost deserted, with nearly all the likely candidates being called up either to the Under-21s or to the senior international squads. This is an impossible situation and there is no solution. We simply have to make the best of it, hoping that no-one gets hurt, although injuries are not the only risk. There are long journeys, jet lag, and above all it is practically impossible to plan any kind of physical training that will be the same for everybody. Sassi does his excellent best on the fitness side, but he certainly cannot work miracles. I never complain, because this is a problem common to many of my counterparts. And in any case, if you want to coach a top-flight team it is inevitable.
The following Wednesday, Carlton Cole accepted the idea of going on loan to another Premiership club. I was keen to secure this kind of arrangement for the same reasons as applied to Forssell, except that instead of going to Southampton