2019 was the year Chelsea’s loudest online fans gave us direct access to two of the most terrifying places on Earth: their minds and their basements. ChelsTwit warriors are our Chelsea FC Children of the Year.
What’s that old saying about opinions and anatomy? Everybody has one, and some people feel the need to make videos of both and put them up on Twitter. These oracles of aggressive ignorance round out our 2019 honours as the Chelsea FC Children of the Year.
1. That Unverified Hand Gestures Guy
Today we salute That Unverified Hand Gestures Guy. Who needs an opinion on Chelsea Football Club when they have you with his insightful views on all things Blue?
Bro, thanks for respectfully sharing your opinions on the club whilst passive-aggressively disagreeing with those who don’t see your side. Social media would be lost without guys like you and your little band of sycophantic devotees.
Keep up the good work of over-analysing games and making videos like you’re a real pundit. Support a player one week, slate him the next, change your mind to suit the audience and the agenda. Please carry on preaching to the converted, raising your profile and forgetting that football is more about being a part of of an all-inclusive family rather than self-promotion.
Above all else, Unverified Hand Gestures Guy, keep on caring about the nonsense you spout when those who know realise that nobody is actually bothered by yours, or any of your ilk’s, opinion.
2. That Guy Who Started It All
In the olden days, tinpot dictators used to climb atop balconies to deliver their messages of hate. Fast forward to today, and shouting into a mobile phone camera is the go-to method for mobilizing gullible masses in order to fulfill your own ambitions and further your agenda.
For that, we can thank That Guy Who Started It All.
Before him, the mobile phone camera had seen a lot of things but it hadn’t seen a grown man gesticulating wildly, making crazy faces and spouting absolute nonsense all at the same time. It was the beginning of a new era, an era where you could say whatever you wanted as long as you shouted it into a camera and were controversial (read: stupid). Because, as we all know, the louder you shout the more correct you are.
This gentleman was one of the rare specimens who understood what a regista was, and that poor Maurizio Sarri was doing us all a gigantic favor by managing this middling bunch of has-beens and never-really-weres.
Our subject’s red-hot take on Cesc Fabregas, essentially calling a Premier League winner and a World Cup plus European Championship winner useless, became the stuff of legend.
The regular raking over the coals of Marcos Alonso for his lack of pace allowed our guy to amass a huge following of like-minded people, and prompted the setting up of a subscription-based model.
You could now pay to have his opinions delivered to your device. Not enticing enough? You could also pay a wee bit extra to have the honor of being followed by That Guy Who Started It All!
Unfortunately, this paywalling deprived the non-paying public from being enlightened by more of his unsolicited video opinions. But we know he is still out there, regularly offering inane or obvious takes in text form.
That Guy Who Started It All is the gold standard for all mouthy geniuses who are not afraid of exhibiting their knowledge (or lack of it) to the world. And showing your real face while doing all of that takes courage, the kind most normal people don’t possess.
3. That Guy With All the Sweet Inside Sources
Old and busted: Tomorrow’s just a day away. New hotness: The next 48 hours are always 48 hours to two months away.
Everyone knew Chelsea were not going to sell Callum Hudson-Odoi once Maurizio Sarri left, but no one knew when Hudson-Odoi would sign his new contract. One well-connected anonymous Twitter account, though, knew that it would be within 48 hours. Always and forever, Hudson-Odoi’s extension would come within the next 48 hours. And after daisy-chaining two-day blocks throughout the summer, finally, Callum Hudson-Odoi signed his new contract within 48 hours of the 48 hour-period before he signed it. Our ChelsTwit insider knew it all along.
But there are perils to this combination of inside sourcing and generous sharing. Other anonymous tweeters began sharing his hot scoops without the appropriate attribution, or so his fragile anonymous ego paranoically suspected and accused.
Why, if anyone is going to be right about something obvious in the short-term or indefinite in the long-term, it’s going to be him, anonymous mouthpiece of the shadowy unverified sources.
Showing his commitment to anonymous unverifiability, That Guy With All the Sweet Inside Sources bravely subtweeted those who dared poach his speculations. Not one to call them out, he anonymously wink-winked, nudge-nudged, emoji-emoji’d say-no-more those who were peddling his inside info without proper attribution.
Because what’s the point of proclaiming you know something that you yourself are not willing to publicly stand by if someone else can just go ahead and do the same?
4. That Moral Guardian of Stamford Bridge Guy
Without you, Moral Guardian of Stamford Bridge Guy, our beloved home would be an out-of-control den of iniquity, and we’re not talking about the Den Millwall play at.
Forget about reporting on what’s occurring on the field of play, the action in the stands is infinitely more appropriate for a football journo to be recounting. Revel in your own pomposity as you self-righteously ruin the reputation of the club you purport to back.
Ignore the law enforcers and stick to your guns as you back up your claims with mere words. Forget the fact that the very same device you use to broadcast your accusations could be used to provide evidence thereof. Trust but verify? Your blue check mark is all the verification and trust we will ever need.
Football fan culture has some very real problems, and it takes a resolute soul to routinely keep himself at the centre of the story. Utopia is only ever just a tweet away, and we know that tweet will come from That Moral Guardian of Stamford Bridge Guy.