Nothing can hold any fear for us after last week’s sensational goalless draw at Anfield, & Chelski will crap their pants in our new-found killer atmosphere. It was ninety minutes non-stop singing and invective at Anfield, and I expect it to be the same tomorrow. No team gives you as much ammunition as Chelsea: Ashley Cole, Drogba, Lamps, Terry, the other Cole: odious, squeaky voiced, millionaires: what’s not to not like?
Last season Rory Delap was hurling his long throw all round ‘The Championship’ the whole season long, to little specific end. The general reaction to it was ‘For fuck’s sake Pulis, have you ever thought of coaching something different just once in your wretched life? Have you never heard of the element of surprise?’
Now, since it has terrorised Premiership defences (Pulis finally has done something different: he has moved the touchlines in to make it more effective), and our last three goals have come directly from this source, the crowd have also adapted. Apathy at the long throw has been replaced by hyperventilation. Each line out in the opponent’s half is greeted by a cry of ‘Rory Rory Rory!’ by a mass ‘replica long-throw wavey-hand overhead gesture’ and by a shout of ‘Whhhhhhhooooooooooooooosh.’ There follows a complete silence of pure expectancy as the ball scuds through the air. It’s all context.