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The teams are already in:
Chelsea: Cech, Bosingwa, Ivanovic, Terry, Cole, Ramires, Romeu, Meireles, Sturridge, Drogba, Mata. Subs: Turnbull, Lampard, Torres, Mikel, Malouda, Ferreira, Kalou.
Man City: Hart, Zabaleta, Lescott, Kompany, Clichy, Milner, Toure Yaya, Barry, Silva, Aguero, Balotelli. Subs: Pantilimon, Dzeko, Johnson, Savic, Nasri, Toure, De Jong.
Referee: Mark Clattenburg (Tyne & Wear)
So Lampard, Torres, Mikel, Dzeko and Nasri all sit on the sidelines. Nothing too unexpected there. Balotelli, despite his late-night dinner, starts. Zabaleta is fit, as is Boswinga, so no full-back rejigging required.
Juan Mata says Chelsea will approach tonight's game with "respect but no fear". That must be nice. I tend to approach modern life with a great deal of fear. Respect, truth be told, doesn't really come into it on either side. This exchange from lunchtime today offers an insight as to why:
I walk into the new burrito shop in search of lunch for myself and a colleague. I have never been in here before. A lady and a man are behind the counter. I look at the menu board. I fancy a chicken burrito. My occasional-vegetarian colleague (long story, don't ask) would, I decide, like the vegetarian option.
Me: One chicken burrito and one avocado burrito please
Lady: Sorry?
Me: One chicken burrito and one avocado burrito
Lady: looks uncertain
Me: So ? two (holding up two fingers)
Lady: OK
Lady puts a tortilla on the griddle
Lady: Tomato or coriander rice?
Me: Sorry?
Lady: Tomato or coriander rice?
Me: Tomato, please
Lady looks uncertain
Lady: That wasn't an option. It's chilli (she is scooping the tomato rice into the tortilla as she says this. And it looks like bloody tomato rice to me.)
Lady: Black beans or refried beans
Me: Black beans please
Lady puts black beans into tortilla. I realise I meant refried beans
Lady: Chicken or steak.
Me: Sorry?
Lady (points at what looks like chicken): Steak?
Lady (points at what looks like steak): Or chicken?
I look uncertain. Or at least, more so.
Me: The second one please
Lady looks uncertain. Lady scoops in chicken. And gratefully hands over to man.
Man: Mild, medium or hot salsa?
Me: Sorry?
Man: Mild, medium or hot salsa?
Me: Mild, please
Man (clearly wanting rid of this moron): Anything else?
Me (pointing at guacamole): Could I have some avocado?
Man: Sorry?
Me (still pointing at guacamole): Avocado?
Man: It's 70p extra.
Me: OK, fine. (I'm not sure if it's fine. I'm not sure of anything anymore. And I've just realised that, for some inexplicable reason, I've been calling it avocado rather than guacamole)
Man: Right that's [a some of money that I don't catch]
Thinking that attempting to get another burritto might drive all three of us over the edge, I hand over �20 note. Collect change. Deliver chicken burrito with lashings of guacamole to colleague. Go to canteen and get jacket potato and beans for self.
All of which should provide a nice counter-point riff to tonight's proceedings. While these two giants of the modern game strut their stuff at the Bridge, let's also have a celebration of ineptness and incompetence. Your own, preferably - self-deprecation is so much more appealing than meanness.
Evening all. By 10 'o'clock this evening, Manchester City could lead Chelsea by 13 points in the Premier League. It's worth dwelling on that ?�13 points. On 12 December last season, the then Premier League leaders Manchester United had put 13 points between themselves and Birmingham, who were 16th. It's bigger than the gap between 8th-placed Stoke and rock-bottom Bolton, as big as the gap between Chelsea and West Brom. "It would be difficult for us from 13 points behind but not impossible," said Andre-Villas Boas over the weekend. I have to disagree. Can anyone see Chelsea overturning a 13-point gap?
But we're getting ahead of ourselves. Chelsea may have lost to Manchester United, Arsenal and Liverpool (the latter two coming at the Bridge) already this season, but they remain a dangerous animal. Villas-Boas has been like a cornered cat in the past week or so, fighting back on behalf of his side. Tonight his team have the chance to repay the favour.
Meanwhile City, European frustration aside, move serenely on. Yes Mario Balotelli refuses to keep his head down, yes the Tevez thing is still ongoing, yes they're in the Europa League post-turkey-and-all-the-trimmings, but they feel like minor sideshows, twirling colourful umbrellas on a monumental silver steamroller. Will Chelsea get squashed this evening?
Source: http://www.guardian.co.uk/football/2011/dec/12/chelsea-manchester-city-premier-league
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