An unhappy reunion
It was quite cold in Prague, it was actually 10 degrees but it felt like 0. I stood in the tunnel and looked out onto the pitch. I could see a fair few fans wearing red, which is always a good sign, although they didn’t look too enthusiastic. Neither was I to be honest. It meant we had to play Augsburg in mid-week and all of us were tired. When I briefed the team I could tell that they knew I wasn’t bothered. I looked back and saw Philipp jumping up and down to keep warm. Where the hell were Chelsea? I looked at the referee and he understood. He turned and made his way to the home dressing room. I didn’t want to see Jose so early in my Bayern career. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing to him again, but I knew this meant nothing so I tried to pay him no mind. Then I heard the unmistakable sound of boots walking along solid ground. I didn’t look back at the boys in blue, mostly because I didn’t want to make eye contact with him. I heard Neuer and Cech’s gloves bang together. At least someone was in a friendly mood.
The referee came to the front of the 2 lines and led them out. I got up but I didn’t follow them. I went to stand next to Dom who had been talking to Jan (Kirchhoff). It was to be the biggest game he’s ever played in and so Dom was just wishing him good luck. We made our way out together. I looked at the bench in disgust. It was wooden, the one day I could do with a comfy chair to sit in and I get this. I reached into my pocket and took out a revel. I usually didn’t bring them to games but this was an exception. I dug out a woolly hat from the kit bag and stuck my hands in my pocket. Then I heard the whistle. I didn’t even look at the pitch.
13th minute: Hazard has a shot but it was weak and we managed to clear. Then we break but I don’t want to get excited the ball comes out towards me and Alaba touches it down. I can see his eyes searching and he smashes it forward. The ball goes nowhere near a red shirt and Cech calmly picks up the ball. Dom threw his hands up in the air but I did nothing. Cech manages to find Cole and somehow he finds Eto’o. Dom shouts “Hazard far left”. Everyone looks over but it’s too late, Hazard has space and fires it towards goal with real power, but Neuer managed to get a hand to it. I sat still again.
29th minute: Mata, whipped in a corner but Kirchhoff got to it above everyone else. Dom was on the edge of the technical area and he shouted something at Kirchhoff. Mata was back in possession of the ball and he laid it off to Lampard, the veteran teed it off for Hazard and this time Neuer couldn’t save it. Chelsea took the lead. Dom started shouting again but I just dug my hands into my pocket further.
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34th minute: Willian had lots of space on the right wing, he could of crossed it but he gave it to Lampard. The Englishman struck it and I could tell straight away that Neuer was beaten. Luckily for us it came flying back off the post, however it fell to Eto’o who had an open goal. He tapped it home and I watched him as he ran off. Then I saw him hold his hands out wide and he had a look of disgust on his face. Dom pointed and I followed his finger, there was the official holding his flag up. We got lucky.
43rd minute: Azpilicueta took a long throw. Willian came forward and run the header, he was challenged by no one. To be fair to the Brazilian it was a beautiful flick on and Eto’o was waiting at the back post, he too was unmarked and he tapped home. Dom exploded out of his seat and started to yell at the players. I looked to the linesman with hope. He didn’t move and the referee continued to point at the centre circle. I looked to the skies hoping for something, I was not looking forward to the half time team talk.
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Half time: I walked in and I told Dom I really didn’t want to give the talk. He said he wanted to because of that shocking defending. He pushed open the door and was followed by the players. I just waited outside. I really felt the cold again and to be honest was feeling a little bit sick. So I went out to the bench, put my hood up and kept my head down. I sat and waited for the teams to come back out.
I stayed exactly where I was when the teams came out. I didn’t want to watch. I only moved my head when the referee blew the whistle.
47th minute: I heard the crowd getting excited but I didn’t look. I assume it was a great passing move. So I look towards Cech’s goal, but he is standing still with not a soul within 20 metres of him. So I look towards the other end and the ball is just about to fall onto Willian’s boot. The ball flies off his right foot but unfortunately for him Neuer is up to the task. Dom leaned over and told me that Chelsea sliced us apart. I swore under my breath because I just imagined the joy Jose would be getting from all of this.
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65th minute: Willian runs a good 40 yards down the wing and he cuts it back to Azpilicueta. The Spaniard hits it but Neuer saves it. A scramble forms on the penalty spot with challenges flying in from everyone. The ball pops out and Hazard is standing there. The Belgian winger smashes it past Neuer for 3-0. This was turning into a disaster.
81st minute: I had stopped watching the game completely by now and suddenly an eerie silence fell over the stadium. I wondered what had happened and the players in red were high-fiving each other. We must have scored but the fans didn’t celebrate, and who can blame them. I looked up at the poor quality scoreboard and saw a cross flying low into the Chelsea penalty area and Kevin Volland had got ahead of his man to tap it home. 3-1 was less embarrassing but still very poor.
The final whistle went, but I was already up and trudging down the tunnel. I couldn’t face Mourinho. So I left but before I did I asked Dom to take the team talk again. I walked straight through to the team bus. I couldn’t take it anymore and I texted Dom to make the team hurry up. I sat back in my chair and closed my eyes.
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