Jose Mourinho’s defiance is getting in the way of improvement.
I had an eerie calm before Chelsea FC’s match against Liverpool. It was the kind of calm that brings a half smile—not so much a reflection of happiness, but of peace. Given the magnitude of the match, the opponent, and the very public and very amusing floundering of my beloved Chelsea, I admit, it was a strange feeling to have.
I thought it was a good omen, a resurfacing of feelings last felt last season: in the end, it will be okay. Ramires’ blasted header past Simon Mignolet in the 4th minute seemed confirmation. However, mere moments later this feeling, and everything else, were proven wrong.
Jose Mourinho reverted back to the Old Jose, the one without the lived experience of his defense having given up 11 goals in the eight matches prior. He instructed the team to sit on the lead. With his job on the line and the players seeking answers that would stop all the questions, Mourinho heaped the pressure on that one goal to hold and casually walked away.
It lasted 41 minutes before its knees buckled and everything spilt all over the place (again).
Like a wobbling Jenga tower, everyone saw the inevitable crash to come. Jose, defiant Jose, remained defiant. Adamant that in his hands he held ultimate control. As Philippe Coutinho’s shot curled beyond the fingertips of Asmir Begovic, Jose whipped around and scurried down the tunnel as if he had been insulted.
How dare the other team do that to him, don’t they know who he is?
Halftime came. While the emotions of a match had been toyed with for 45 minutes prior, a 1-1 at the half wasn’t much different than a 0-0 at kick off. Time to get back to business. Do what earned the goal. Keep the press on and go win the match. Right?
Within fifteen minutes Eden Hazard was trotting off the pitch, uninjured, replaced by Kenedy. Though my love for Kenedy is well-documented, the substitution was an act of petulance. Hazard hadn’t played particularly well; some of that was on him, some of that was an opposing manager knowing how to set his team up to crowd him out.
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After losing his mind about a second yellow not being given to either Emre Can or Lucas after they sandwiched Ramires, things predictably went apocalyptic.
Seeing the cracks, the opposing manager couldn’t resist fanning the winds of a developing storm. Thunder follows lightning and within five minutes Christian Benteke was introduced.
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Viewing the sub as a puff of the chest, Mourinho took the bait. John Obi Mikel was replaced by Cesc Fabregas and all Jurgen Klopp had to do was wait. The balance of Chelsea was thrown off and without Hazard there weren’t enough dangerous players on the pitch to string three forward passes together.
Within five minutes Coutinho bagged his brace. Less than ten minutes after that Benteke put it all out of reach.
That feeling I had? That was a calm amidst calamity. The outward wall of the tornado had engulfed me and I had survived to stand in the middle of it. Terror was overridden by the opportunity to marvel at the forces surrounding me. It was a sight. But it wasn’t to last.
The storm resumed as its backend reintroduced all of the terrible things that have made this season this season. Jose delivered yet another odd postmatch interview while the players in the locker room likely stared at the floor between their feet—nothing was certain, except Jose’s ornery defiance.
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Refusing to address tactics, such as why Hazard was subbed off after 59 minutes; performances, like what led to Hazard being subbed off after 59 minutes; or even simple match analysis, explaining why Hazard was subbed off after 59 minutes—Mourinho did at least utter one coherent nugget of truth:
“The fans are not stupid.”