On The Premier League:As a consummate performer, Jose Mourinho was never likely to forget the first rule of showbusiness: always leave the audience wanting more. The travelling Chelsea contingent at Old Trafford yesterday certainly left Roman Abramovich in no doubt as to where their loyalties still lie, giving their erstwhile leader a rousing send-off, and Mourinho would have allowed himself a wry smile at the sight of the Russian squirming in the Manchester United directors' box.
The Special One might now be the Special Gone, but gargantuan personalities such as Mourinho's are not easily exorcised, especially when his replacement, Avram Grant, appears to be little more than Abramovich's yes-man. And, besides, the Portuguese's spirit lives on in the form of John Terry, Frank Lampard and Didier Drogba - a hallowed trio who are fiercely loyal to their former manager and must now be considering their futures at the club.
They are not the only ones who will miss Mourinho. You did not have to be a Chelsea fan to appreciate his brutal honesty and waspish humour, or his mischievous manipulation of the media. In an age when a manager's PR skills have to be as finely honed as his tactics, Mourinho's choreographed touchline histrionics and juicy soundbites not only established him as the leader in his field, but also helped to distract from his failings.
In the wake of a Chelsea defeat, discussion was rarely focused on the football: think of the "ghost goal" debate following the 2005 Champions League semi-final exit to Liverpool, or how his side's faltering form in the middle of last season coincided with a series of coded attacks on the club's board.
Right until the end, Mourinho was setting the agenda, ripping out TV monitors during a dismal draw with Blackburn or deflating expectations before last Tuesday's encounter with Rosenborg by claiming he was no longer able to buy eggs from Waitrose. If Chris Hutchings or Billy Davies used such blatant diversionary tactics, they would probably be turned into root vegetables by the red-tops; Jose, being Jose, was feted for it.
But things have changed. Mourinho's power-base has crumbled, his immunity from sustained criticism stripped away by his decision - and it was his decision, regardless of official claims of "mutual consent" - to make himself the former Chelsea manager. And now it is clear for all to see that his reign at Stamford Bridge must be considered a failure.
If this sounds harsh, consider the criteria by which Mourinho measured himself on the day he first swaggered into Stamford Bridge in 2004. Still swollen with pride after capturing the Champions League trophy with FC Porto, he chirruped: "We have top players and, I hope you do not think me arrogant, we have a top manager. I am a special one."
He was right. Winning club football's most prestigious piece of silverware with one of Europe's B-list clubs was, indeed, an extraordinary achievement, especially for a man still feeling his way into management. But, by the same rationale, his inability to repeat that success with Chelsea - fuelled by around €300 million of Abramovich's oil-soaked dough - should be considered a gross underachievement.
Last season's semi-final defeat to Liverpool was perhaps the lowest moment of Mourinho's three-year reign. Having been squeezed out by a combination of fate and feckless finishing two years previously, Chelsea should have been unstoppable in their pursuit of vengeance.
How, then, to explain their gutless performance in the second leg at Anfield, when Liverpool were able to scrub out the Londoners' one-goal lead without ever shifting out of second gear themselves? Mourinho's inability both to rouse his troops out of their lethargy and to outmanoeuvre the canny Rafael Benitez suggests that, for all the public bluster, there is still something crucial missing from his managerial armoury.
Abramovich was wrong to undermine his manager by foisting unwanted players on him and appointing Grant to the post of sporting director over his head. Having delivered two Premier League titles and a clutch of cups, Mourinho deserved better. But Abramovich can hardly be blamed for wanting his gigantic outlay to be rewarded with the ultimate prize of the Champions League trophy: in fact, by the standards of many continental club presidents, he has shown the patience of a saint.
English football will be duller without Jose Mourinho, and his departure could yet prompt Chelsea to slide back among the also-rans. He is an excellent manager and, as such, devilishly difficult to replace. But as he reflects on a tumultuous three years in west London, even he must admit he was never a Special One.
