It was, if nothing else, the perfect tribute. Not for Chelsea’s players the outsized leaving card or the valedictory video message. No, what better way of celebrating the legacy of their outgoing coach Graham Potter than by creating plenty of chances and then missing them in increasingly comedic circumstances? Expected goals: Chelsea 2.19-0.20 Liverpool. Actual goals: Chelsea 0-0 Liverpool. Dearest Graham. Always in our hearts.
Thing is, Potter has gone and taken his oil diffuser and self‑help books with him. Who carries the can now? Certainly it would be hard to apportion too much responsibility to Bruno Saltor, the former Brighton right-back placed in temporary charge. There were some stories floating around this week that Potter was so obscure to some of his players that they had to look him up on the internet. Although we can at least assume they found something, which is more than can be said for Bruno: the sort of guy you try to Google and fail.
But in another sense the sight of this assemblage of star footballers taking to the field without a full‑time coach – flying solo, going commando – felt strangely perfect. At its most skeletal principles, the ideology of Todd Boehly has always been based on entertainers: buy them in, stack them high, give them whatever they want. Did the Travelling Wilburys need a coach? Did the X-Men need a coach? Of course not. (Professor X was, if anything, more of a director-of-football type.) And so perhaps this was simply Boehly fundamentalism taken to its purest, most logical conclusion.
Chelsea condemned offensive chanting from sections of the home support around Stamford Bridge during the team’s goalless draw against Liverpool.
Part of the crowd near the dugout could be heard during the second half directing taunts against visiting supporters, relating to the 1989 Hillsborough disaster, that the club said “have no place in football”.
There were also chants directed at former Liverpool defender Jamie Carragher, in attendance as part of Sky Sports’ broadcast team, relating to an incident in 2018 where was filmed spitting at a passing car.
Chelsea said in a statement: “Chelsea FC condemns the inappropriate chants heard from some home fans during this evening’s game. “Hateful chanting has no place in football and we apologise to anyone who has been offended by them.”
A Premier League statement added: “The Premier League condemns the tragedy chanting heard at tonight’s match between Chelsea and Liverpool. We continue to treat this as an unacceptable issue and are seeking to address it as a priority.” PA Media
The curious thing was that for large parts it worked. Chelsea were the better team in both halves, looking dangerous on the break and keeping Liverpool at arm’s length at all times. Enzo Fernández again showed why Chelsea were willing to raid the vault to buy him, moving the ball accurately but more importantly forward, and often with just one touch. Contrast him with, say, Jordan Henderson, who on gathering the ball these days seems to swivel it around in a painfully slow circle that brings to mind a Vauxhall Astra trying to do a handbrake turn.
João Félix was an absolute joy to watch, all feathers and ribbons and wisps of light, a real Diptyque candle of a player. Up front, meanwhile, Kai Havertz impressed with his industry and movement without ever really looking like he was going to score. It’s not really his fault so much as an enduring curiosity of this Chelsea side, a squad with every kind of attacking player except the most important. How do you spend £600m on new players and forget to buy a goalscorer?
And in many ways this is a question that will define the sort of club Chelsea wants to be. You can build your striker-less paradise, a mesmerising web of young butterfly forwards all rotating and meshing with each other. You can do that. But then you’re also going to need a powerful elite coach and plenty of time, because this stuff is ridiculously hard to get right. Alternatively, if you’re going to keep firing your coaches and building a new blueprint every nine months, you’re probably going to need a big No 9. Indeed, the Chelsea of Roman Abramovich never won a league title without one.
But short attention spans have their advantages as well as their disadvantages. You only have to look at the chewed, weathered, end-of-the-pier feel to Liverpool at the moment: the sense of shutters coming down, windows being boarded up, decay and loss. Chelsea, by contrast, are largely immune to these sensations because they never really build anything as lasting as an era in the first place. Everything is revival, revolution, upheaval. There’s nothing to mourn or get nostalgic for. The Potter interregnum will soon disappear into the fossil record of history, along with the Sarri season and the Benítez interruption. On to the next thing. The story of Liverpool plays on movie reels. The story of Chelsea plays on Instagram Reels.
And so perhaps, league table notwithstanding, you would actually back Chelsea to pick themselves up quicker than Liverpool. There is still a dysfunction here, and a dysfunction that goes far deeper than one bearded coach. But even in its dysfunction you can see how it might suddenly work. This is the kind of squad that could click into gear extremely quickly. You can see Félix or Mykhailo Mudryk going on an unstoppable run. You can see Enzo banging in a last‑minute winner from 30 yards. You can even, just about, glimpse the planetary alignment that takes this box of expensive lost toys all the way to the Champions League final.
Liverpool, needless to say, don’t do things like this any more. There is a process to be respected, a protocol to be followed, Financial Fair Play rules to obey and a legacy to be honoured. Perhaps this is how you end up starting a game with Joe Gomez at right-back and finishing it with a combined midfield age of 98 years. Right now, it’s Chelsea who need some stability and Liverpool who need a detonation. Instead, it feels like both are going to get exactly the opposite.
