Being so in touch with my emotional side, it is not hard for me (as a writer) to admit that I have sobbed, wept and whimpered because of the beautiful game. I have looked up at the sky, lamenting at an unfair, invisible deity. Again, all because of football. The world’s most popular sport gets the worst out of us as spectators, and surprisingly, at things which moments earlier did not seem to matter all that much. For example, take the defeat Chelsea suffered at the hands of Corinthians nine years ago in Yokohama at the FIFA Club World Cup. It was, for reasons beyond comprehension, a hard one to come to grips with and not just because it was a final.
The Blues return to the competition nine years on from that heartbreak to bury the ghosts of their failure. They are ready to move forward, but this writer still clings to the past. In a misguided attempt to get closure, I have decided to turn back the time and relive what happened all those years ago in the second largest city in Japan. As my younger self watched my Chelsea heroes come within touching distance of winning a piece of silverware that had hitherto evaded them, only to fall short at the final hurdle.
Let the catharsis of the tragic 1-0 defeat back in 2012 begin.