Kevin Mitchellwas in Milan last night to witness the Special One welcome his former charges
IF HOLLYWOOD ever comes calling on football, Jose Mourinho will be ready, collar up, lines prepared, loaded with ambiguity. He is, beyond argument, the most self-conscious performer in the game, a shameless salesman of a unique brand: manager as Messiah.
Last night, in the fevered surroundings of the Giuseppe Meazza Stadium, he starred in The Italian Job, coolly accepting the theft of a goal in the third minute by his diligent striker, Diego Milito, that caught his old ally at Stamford Bridge, John Terry, swivelling on the wrong spot to leave Petr Cech helpless on the near post.
Why Terry had left his mark on the other side of the stage was more than likely down to the panic induced by excellent lead-up work by Wesley Sneijder, although it was difficult to excuse the Chelsea captain’s ultimate clumsiness.
But, ever mindful that he will be “coming home” in two weeks to his spiritual footballing home for Act II, Mourinho sat unmoved in the director’s chair, leaning forward every so quietly to put down his pen on top of his notes and celebrate with all the inner calm of a monk on a mountain.
He did not want to excite the travelling faithful, nor give them reason not to kiss the hem of his gown at Stamford Bridge in the second leg.
The man Carlo Ancelotti calls His Mourinhity in his autobiography would turn up the volume slightly afterwards, of course, when he would proclaim in his mannered way about his new apostles, and we would sit transfixed, as ever. A word from Mourinho does not come often via the cuff but is usually worth waiting for, sometimes leaving you with that worried feeling you had when you first heard the lyrics to Spinal Tap's Big Bottom, not sure to laugh or cry, or attempt both simultaneously.
The pre-match script had been written some time ago: the Messiah welcoming to his new home the team very much made in his image.
They had sinned off the park, a couple of them, but that was not his problem now.
Players who had bolstered his position in a fight of the ego with Roman Abramovich were an enemy to be killed off as ruthlessly as he could manage, and Inter’s victory was full of murderous intent. They do not lack for cynicism, either.
Inter had Walter Samuel and Ivan Cordoba sent off in a bad-tempered and scoreless draw against Sampdoria at the weekend, and had a further three – Javier Zanetti, Lucio, Maicon, as well as Samuel – in fear of a card last night, lest they miss the return leg. They are clearly a team, like their manager, who live most comfortably on the edge.
When Samuel hacked Salomon Kalou in the box, but with more contact and well clear of the ball, he did well to stay on. There was a far better case here for a penalty.
Chelsea, though, were winning a lot of the exchanges, legal and otherwise, and were buoyed considerably by Kalou’s equaliser in the 51st minute. Nicolas Anelka, whose energy in a roving brief had been a bright spot for them in the first half, continued to harry as they strove for a lead that would surely would have lured the Special One from his seat.
He remain unmoved, as he did when Inter went into the lead four minutes later. Esteban Cambiasso hit the same shot twice, the first one into Branislav Ivanovic from a Sneijder cross, the second past Cech, beaten now on both wings, this one from distance.
The wonder of Mourinho was never that he invested his teams with magic, but that he drew from often precious players the sort of hard work that ensured they did not waste their gifts. For three years and three months at Chelsea, the most time he has spent at any club, they did that – and the bulk of his pupils were in Milan trying to spoil his party last night. They did not quite manage it. Mourinho clearly drives Inter with the same hard whip hand, and they have responded to the point of winning the title last year and leading it comfortably this season.
At the hub of his creation is Sneijder, not that the elegant Dutchman could remotely be regarded as precious. His appetite for finding space away from the distracted attention of Mikel John Obi – a player Mourinho never regarded too highly at Stamford Bridge – was the single strategic component that had Chelsea at sixes and sevens for much of the evening.
There was a robust physicality about Inter that troubled Chelsea more than once during the evening.
Chelsea will feel aggrieved. Mourinho? He will care not a jot.
Guardian Service
