Tonight:
4°c
A glorious talent has awoken from self-induced coma, and if it chooses to remain conscious for another few months, Guus Hiddink may have to reconsider his pledge to leave Chelsea at the end of the season.
Didier Drogba was so sensational at Stamford Bridge last night, at least throughout a pulsating first half, that Phil Scolari's baldness came to seem a mercy. Had he any hair on top of his head, he'd have been wrenching it in clumps watching the Ivorian paralyse the Juventus defence with his unshackled brilliance.
Gone was the sulky, indolent bystander of Big Phil's brief tenure, and returned was the uncontainable powerhouse who terrorised all-comers under Jose Mourinho.
Everything, not least the amusingly blatant diving for penalties, was back. Everything, that is, except the finishing, and that will return soon enough. Had it been in place, Drogba would have robbed this tie of its competitiveness with a hat-trick inside 20 minutes.
Twice he should have scored with facile, close-range headers he horribly mistimed, and the sole chance he took was a dismal return for a performance of such dominance.
That goal came from an exquisite through-ball from Salomon Kalou, and if he too appeared rejuvenated by Hiddink's arrival, then so did the entire team.
Admittedly Chelsea faded after the break, in a precise replica of the weekend's 1-0 win at Aston Villa, and were left hanging on to an undeservedly narrow advantage.
But they had done more than enough by then to suggest that, if they can safely husband that one-goal lead in the return, they will have a very decent shot at collecting the cup they came so heartrendingly close to winning last May.
That will hardly be a doddle. Juve looked baffled and bamboozled for periods last night, not least perhaps because they could no more comprehend than I why they had to play in wanly golden shirts against opponents clad in blue.
But in Turin the Tuesday after next, restored to the familiar black and white stripes and in front of the most insanely passionate home support among which I've ever sat fantasising about ear plugs, they will be formidable.
Yet on their scintillating first-half form, you have to fancy Chelsea to snaffle the away goal that will, given the unlikelihood of a defence coached by the Dutch master and marshalled by John Terry conceding thrice in 90 minutes, surely be sufficient.
About this captivating first leg, there was a faint hint of "Masters" football. The geriatric nature of Chelsea has been much discussed of late, but a Juventus team including such ancient greats as Alessandro del Piero and Pavel Nedved, and with David Trezeguet trundling off the bench late on, had the feel of one of those old bands that reforms to tour the Butlin's circuit.
The presence in Juve's dugout of Mr Abramovich's first sackee, the engaging Claudio Ranieri, no doubt scandalised at Hiddink's un-tinkering selection of 10 of the 11 who started at Villa Park, added pleasingly to the nostalgic air.
No one, however, will be dwelling on Chelsea's senescence after this performance.
The confidence flowed through them from the first whistle, and with it an energy and urgency that didn't so much ridicule the recent torpor as blow a giant raspberry in its face.
It's pretty scandalous how these overindulged ponces conducted a sort of work-to-rule under Scolari, never more so than in that wretched 0-3 surrender at Old Trafford.
Big Phil has every right to feel ill-used, and if it were humanly possible to pity a chap with a £7.5million pay off cheque safely banked, I'd have shed a manly tear for him at the sight of Drogba marauding through Juve last night.
But, by God, it's good to have the narcissistic bleeder back. English football needs him, and it needs a strong, vibrant Chelsea now more than ever with Arsenal in decline and Liverpool fast fading as a Premier League force.
It is far too late for them to challenge Man Utd for this season's title, barring an outbreak of typhus at Old Trafford, But if Drogba deigns to continue unleashing the full range of his gifts, he may yet repay the colossal debt he owes the fans for costing them one Champions League trophy, with that imbecilic sending off in Moscow, by providing them with another.
If so, a feeling in my bones insists that, however tricky and Byzantine the internal politics of the Russian national team, Hiddink and Abramovich between them might just find a way to renege on the former's promise to sling his hook.
With Easter almost upon us, the thoughts naturally turn to resurrection. Jesus's ended after a few days, and so far Chelsea's has lasted the same. But if the Dutchman who walks on water stays at Stamford Bridge, Chelsea's will endure a great deal longer than that.
Reader views (1)
I am a Drogba fan because he has so much talent and is great to watch -- on his game. But he, like any other player who performs only when he feels like it or only for a "special" manager, is lacking in character. Whether a player likes a manager or not, he should perform to the best of his abilities -- always. A business -- which is what a football club really is -- cannot sustain viability when it employs such high-priced players of questionable moral fiber. Ultimately, there will be failure.
- Jac Mills, loudon, usa, 27/02/2009 11:49
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