Dazzling Blues Dancing to Ancelotti's Tunes

Its been a while, but writing about Chelsea comes so natural for an obsessed fan, that I just could'nt help but post another piece on those posh West Londoners.

This season has been riveting from a blues perspective in so many ways.

Every goal, every pass,every tackle, even the errors(Villa game anybody!) are just perfect. Its a sonata that Carlos Ancelotti is conducting with pitch perfection. But by no means is old Carlos the only composer of this piece.

Ranieri,Mourinho,Grant,Hiddink,Scolari and even good ol'Stevie Clarke( his departure was the key to Scolari's decline at the Bridge) have had their parts to play in sketching this sonata. And trust me, metaphors and similes are just piling up in the right hand side of my brain and the reason is simple; this Chelsea side has been 6 years in the making and is now really starting to shine.

People have criticised the constant chopping and changing of managers.But my counterpoint is that except the timing of some of the departures, each one's exit was justified.

Ranieri made the right kind of signings, but lacked the tactical nous to win big.

Jose had the biggest effect.He changed the mentality and the tactical quality of the team. Made people like JT, Lampard, Drogba, Essien etc champions.But his policy of win above all, completely contradicted Mr. Abramovich's vision of sexy footy.There was always going to be only one winner in that battle.

Grant was walking the plank from day one. But if anything, all his contributions were positive. His docile and understated approach helped a segmented squad to integrate. People like Ballack and Anelka became better players for the club in his reign. No tactical genius, but no fool either.But was not the answer in the long term.

Scolari in his initial 4 months wowed us with great football unseen by the Shed End faithful since the late 90's. But Steve Clarke's departure and hollow tactics meant that a team used to winning, match in match out, were hopelessly struggling by the end of his reign. Echoes of his firing were felt this season, when Kenyon was given his marching orders for hiring for him.

Hiddink reconciled the team and spruced up the tactical make up of the squad. Almost mirroring Jose's reign in his style, the players were rejuvenated and his look alike successor Ancelotti had an easier job at hand, upon his arrival.

Carlos has definitely made us much more tactically flexible. There is a definite clockwork like approach to our gameplay.The defensive discipline of Jose's era is yet to be achieved. But an offensive understanding and creative glow has been seeped in. This team can defend, we know that from Nou Camp last season. The question was whether we could attack ? And boy! we are answering that emphatically.

I would like to point out at this juncture that by no means am I saying that we will win all and destroy everyone in our path this season. But looking at quality of the competition domestically and even continentally(except perhaps them wankers from Catalonia!), I will be extremely disappointed if we do'nt win this season. Things like luck do play a role, its a part and parcel of sports. But I would be ecstatic if we win the big cups come April/May '010.

And not only because I am a Chelsea fan, but more so because each one of these players who have been there as their sonata has been written, deserve it. These are best gents that have worn the blue shirt in our history and have played their parts with the effort, subtlety and quality of virtuosos.

"Like Don Revie's Leeds, with whom this Chelsea side share so much – from frightening physical and mental toughness to inexplicably frequent second-place finishes – their collective strength has the capacity to transcend everything else, be it context, opposition, or even tactics."

Rob Smyth in the Guardian

But win or lose, I am smitten by this team and the way they are playing this season. The unbridled joy of watching us play, despite losing 2-0 to Villa; well thats the kind of feeling every fan wishes for.

Up the chels..

Scribble from Seattle 3.9

The fall brings with it many things. A fresh beginning, bittersweet transition from summer to winter, rain(and a lot of it if you are in Seattle),pumpkin patches,the oncoming cricket season down under,the initial hiccups in Chelsea's season(but guess who is still on top!!), more jazz music,Barrack winning the Nobel within 9 months (too slow if you ask me!), the urge to constantly drink tea and absorb the warm hues that inhabit the foliage. The last bit is interesting to me, the fact that colours in this season are actually of the warm kind; its as if trees are holding on to the last bit of the warmth that summer bought to them before the winter sets in. But enough of my poor attempts at poetic jargon. Fact that matters is that Lackadaisical E. is back(i know. i was shocked too with that one)

Sitting in our new U District apartment's balcony, looking at a falling sun trying hard to match the colours of the fallen leaves, smoking the nth rolled up Gauloises, drinking n+1 th cup of Darjeeling and I wonder,what fuck do poets smoke?

People keep asking me why do I only write one blog a quarter(ok! only my ma asked) and so I decided to script a SFS 3.9. Why 3.9? As it will be the only time a 3.9 will be associated with anything I do while I am in college. 3.9 is also like a step back from 4, because it is one. Not because this blog sucks more than the last one (please!) but because it is a calmer and much more serene me writing, alright I am joking. I am just drunk!! But seriously the revelation that my dear ma reads excited me a lot, I officially have a readership of more than 1 (excluding those who I force read). Mum is the word people!

So fighting 20 hours worth of jet lag and general bad sleeping habits by drinking copious amount of ethanol, it hit me that sophomore year has actually started. And being the one who always introspects on such occasions and then immediately realises that its pointless doing so after 5 glasses of pinot noir, I decided its time to sober up and write. Now do'nt be dumbfounded, the writer of this piece is not going forgo the frequent states of inebriation that have so typified much of the subject matter.But instead its a case of recording many of the various brainwaves that I undergo during the moments in between those blurry periods.

This quarter with a full load of classes, stage managing a play called References to Salvador Dali Makes Me Hot( which is an awesome name, I mean why can't people make more names likes this; for example Dizzy Gillespe Dropped a Diamond or Andy Warhol Makes My Pudding.), making sure my roommates are sober, training for the Seattle half marathon, football,cooking,drinking those wines, attending them jazz concerts, hitting on that girl in the back of the cafe, sobering up from all those wines,hw and still having the emotional energy to call my grandad on his 75th birthday. And you know what its only in college you can do that with a negative bank balance and still plan that backpacking trip to Sydney for Christmas.

This fucked up yet enumerating journey continues...

Scribble from Seattle 4

You know that feeling. The feeling of utmost contentment on what has happen, yet a great degree of dissatisfaction at what is still left to be achieved. Well if you do, let me know. Hey! life is too short to linger over such philosophical undertones.

What with Barrack calling his citizens jackasses, Chelsea's deja vu season under Ancelotti(or is it still

Guss Hiddink?), the 2020 Champions League cricket(Go Mumbai Indians!!) about to explode on to your telly screens, my slow blogging, the next Wall Street film & the economic recovery(well if you believe them economists), the eternal glow on Craig Ferguson's face and me still wondering how wicked is Michael Holding's accent (commentate together we will, Mike. one day!!). Summer in Seattle is still glowing in my tan( yes we Indians tan too you cheeky racist basterds!) and what a blistering summer it was. Lackadaisical E. comes back, much delayed but with a bang (which will be at least better than the dross that was the Seattle firework display on 7/4).

Scribbling through the summer the different section of this blog, I could not help but wonder about the year that has gone by(and thereby completely contradicting my first few lines.ah well!!). Its been full of laughter, unscrupulous amount of alcohol, blurry sojourns to different cities(well atleast those that I remember. Somewhat!), untimely passes on girls, musical discoveries,rookie & immature moments aplenty and what not. In short, freshmen year.

It struck me during one of my numerous night time walks from Downtown Seattle back to the U, that this city is just the pinnacle of the modern world. A city manifested through the best that the 21st century has to offer tangibly and ,considering how steeped it is in its citizen's intellectual beliefs that each one of them is so proud of, intangibly. You add the magnificent natural beauty that engulfs it and you wonder if this is good as it gets. I maybe very well wrong, but it would not surprise me either if thats absolutely true. The point is that its very easy to be Seattled( I just made that up) i.e. reach such a comfort level within this city that the world just seems to begin and end from the Puget Sound to Lake Washington, except the occasional drunk trip to Vancouver BC . And its scary, as it maybe great for some NY big shot retired lawyer to spend his final days eating sea food in Bell Town. But for some impressionable 20 year old, its just seems limiting.But damn me if I let that limit my fun time is this city.

I am writing this sitting at my desk at home in Delhi (for once at a decent hour, its just 2 am) and at the end of a serene trip.And its been fantastic to say the least. And not just because of my annual pilgrimage to Bombay(The Worli Sea Link people!!) .But also due to level and the speed of change that is taking place around these parts. Little things like technology, the economy(depression. what depression!), the media, the cricket team and just everything has evolved so much. It has astonished me by how much I was taken aback by the changes that I have witnessed (considering I grew up here). Maybe its a transitional shock felt by all those who travel from a country in a state of recession to a country undergoing accelerated development. Yes, there are still droughts and families not getting even a meal a day.From Force India to the cattle class. Even a month experiencing such contradictions is an unbelievable learning and enriching experience. But Bombay people, Bombay!! (just had to say that)

Sophomore year starts soon and it cannot start sooner. And who knows with me being a year wiser and smarter, these blogs might be a lesser waste of your precious time. This fucked up yet enumerating journey continues .....

Scribble from Seattle 3

Sitting in the backyard of my new summer residence, its 4am, with a bottle of a Columbia Fume Blanc and a left over Monti Cristo (from last weeks crazy end of freshman year celebrations, but thats another story), I type. Summer has started in the Northwest and though for most people around here that means unlimited sunbathing and equally limited clothing, for me its just perfect. The breeze, 9 pm sunset, flip flops and v necks all day long; only a person used to the searing Delhi summer can truly appreciate the pleasure of a summer like this.

A constant theme that has been omnipresent this past school year has been 'change'. Change of country, change of culture, change in the alcohol that you drink or the cigarette that you smoke(or anything that you smoke for that matter), change in music , change in change being the key word in your resident country's most important elections in recent years.... and it goes on, which is a change on its own.

Though somethings remain constant, me typing this piece at odd hours, a bit tipsy, procrastinating(a word bit overused in college) over math(always math when i blog) homework as usual and on a school night, with a 8:30 am class awaiting at that.

I will be honest, a lot of what has happen in the last few months is very blurry to me.
You can reach your own conclusions as to why that is the case, but I will say this much that one thing that remains lucid and constant is my attachment to this wonderfully eclectic town by the Puget Sound called Seattle.

Seattle folks are some of the most paradoxical mountain men and women you can expect to meet anywhere. Seattle, the place that I call home now days, hosts more overeducated baristas and philosophising bums than any other city on the planet, I would guess. We wear gortex and ride fancy road bikes, all the while priding ourselves on our claim of a simple and organic lifestyle.

'All the lonely people
Where do they all come from ?
All the lonely people
Where do they all belong ?'

The Beatles (Eleanor Rigby)

One of my favourite activities in any city I am in is to walk around the city with my ipod and a bottle of spring water (trust me the latter is as important as the former if not more). And I have done this in the sweltering heat in the middle of Old Delhi, walking around the narrow streets looking at the sheer magnitude of life that inhabits my hometown, or around my favourite city in the world, Bombay, walking from one end of Nariman Point to another, and honestly there is nothing as humbling as seeing the coexistence of people from such varying backgrounds and more than anything to see them thrive. Ask any poor or rich, sick or healthy,old or young, well or shabbily dressed, Davidoff smoking or India Kings smoking, Armani or fake Armani citizen of this dynamic city and one thing remains constant, their love for Bombay; and its always Bombay, never Mumbai. One Slumdog Millionaire is not enough for this city, Danny Boyle are you listening!!

Did the same thing in the classy and cobbled streets of Edinburgh, amongst the overwhelming sights of Lower Manhattan (the best dressed folks by far), Istanbul(oh! those Turkish women!!), good old London (feel a bit weird saying this, but immigrants everywhere!!) and most of the Northwest.

But nowhere did I have more fun doing this than Seattle. One reason for this is that usually I am not the only one doing it. Somewhere in Ballard, Downtown, Capitol Hill or even the U- District, I find someone wearing a crisp white shirt, with a pack of Gauloises , with a bottle of spring voda in hand and with the same glazed look on their face as me. There is always someone willing for a conversation on organic wines growing in the Columbia Valley and at same time about the new dumpster diving spots near UW. Blondes in leather jackets and baggy jeans and 6'5 black folks in skinny jeans, carrying their Chihuahuas; Seattle is 'hella' fun!!

Its been a wicked first year and the next 3-4 years will be interesting, especially living off campus and more ingrained into the city. Honestly I have been to San Fransisco, Portland, Vancouver(BC) and Seattle, covering most of the Northwest and its quite frankly a fucked up part of the world. And the best part is I love it. Jazz, Paul Simon, Newgrounds D&B or Marley(especially Bob!)...everything makes sense here.

But as with anyone with a soul, you crave home. A day locked in the room you grew up in, those soothing cream blinds, listening to same music you hear when you were 16, no more cigarettes or hangovers to worry about. Just you and home.
But thats still a few months away. Till then let this fucked up and endearing journey continues.....

The Magic of the Cup

As the blues from London overpowered and overwhelmed the blues from Liverpool, on a sunny Saturday in Wembley, I could not help shedding a tear. Seeing the scenes of pure ecstasy as JT and Frank lifted the trophy, seeing Guus Hiddink say a very emotional goodbye, seeing Michael Essien taking over the camera and click some memorable pictures of his mates and most of all for me, seeing Ray Wilkins lift the cup, just made me sob and laugh.

People like Ray Wilkins just make you happy. Chelsea through and through and a thoroughly likable character, he is someone every pensioner has time for. And to see him climb those steps and lift the cup (and he was reluctant, till Guus forced him). Loyalty and perseverance, thats what gets fans smitten to and Ray personifies it.

Its been a long, insufferable couple of seasons. It was a trophyless season last year. No Luck, they kept saying. But for me it was heartbreak and a perennial barrage of banter from my mates. But this cup means a lot, reawakens a lot of tired and quite frankly frustrated souls.

Bit more luck on the pitch and a whole lot of soul searching off it are the needs of the hour at our beloved club. Guus Hiddink may be gone, but its important to keep the momentum going and think long term. Most of the squad is in its prime and still has a couple of seasons left in it. People like Lampard and Anelka have played out of their skins and merit more accomplishment.

Carlos Ancelotti has just been appointed as the new man incharge. I have a lot to say about that, but I will just be an optimist and hope for the best.

The best thing about being a fan is that it does not take much to get our hopes high. A hard tackle, commitment, unity, loyalty..true fans notice these things and thrive on such virtues. Seeing pure ecstasy on everyones faces after a cup win is chief amongst them. And on Saturday, seeing a beaming Frank Lampard and an emotional Hiddink pose in front of cameraman Essien and point towards him, as if trying to say, what the fuck?..well its right up there in my Chelsea memories.

Up the Chels!!

Scribbles from Seattle Version-2.0

After a bit of a sojourn, which included visiting 8 different cities over 2 countries(3 if you ask the Scots), an even more fucked up economy, a new manager and another disaster for Chelsea,more drunken shenanigans and a crazy new ambition in life that goes somewhere on lines of me commentating with Michael Holding on test matches in Barbados and in my spare time riding around Eastern Europe and Central Asia on a Royal Enfield scripting my own motorcycle diary and running the elections for Indian Prime Minister in 2029, Lacksidasical E. makes a comeback.

Sounds crazy.Maybe.Che did it, all the while chewing a Cuban cigar. There is no reason as to why I,Cuban cig or no Cuban cig, cannot.Atleast the Indian elections part.(yes, becoming Indian PM is easier than commentating on a cricket match with Michael Holding, that accent is wicked and unmatchable)

So, as you can see from the overlying theme in the words above.Nothing much has changed.I still write in tangents and at odd hours(its 5 in the morning as I write this.).

Now I can start talking about this quarter and go on about the cliches of college life. The weird diet, 4 am laundry or more intriguingly, drunk people spewing up on my laundry. But the these past months have have left their imprints on me.

First and foremost, Seattle. Its been interesting to say the least and I have to conclude Seattle is one sweet city. Rubbish nightlife, but the gorgeous bohemian overtones more than make up for that blip.

Sure our sports team suck. A combination of rubbish from the Huskies, the Mariners and the Seahawks has meant that Seattlelites are actually looking forward to the Sounders and this bald underwear model. God help us!!

But coming back to a personal standpoint, Seattle has to be the most laid-back city I have come across. And I meant that as a complement. The grey clouds, the lakes, Rainier and the Cascades and the Puget Sound all sort of conglomerate to form what is a very 'chill' city. Even the bums are chilled out!!

I cannot think of a better city, where a few mates can walk to the waterfront, sip a high quality local brew and smoke a quality Davidoff, the breakfast of champions as they say.

Even back in the heady days of December 08', I was on a transatlantic flight from New York to London, from JFK to Heathrow,from Broadway to West End, from an American city trying to be European to an European city trying to be American. Its a transition that makes the world tick;without doubt the most influential route that the world has ever witnessed. And I sit in the middle of it, sipping low quality Californian wine, and sitting next to a Catholic nun with a terrible Manchester accent.And I was thinking about it, that I am going to a country that is just an island obsessed with tea and page 3 models with big fake tits.The best city there is full of people who for the most part do'nt even consider themselves a part that grotesque culture and wear skirts to show their nationalistic pride.I am so getting drunk there!!

And boy I did and even wore a kilt(rather comfortable). But the point is that despite all the crazy shenanigans and recovery from hangovers on freezing train rides(damn you National Express and your cheap ale!!), it did not feel as comforting as Seattle. Neither did NY or L.A. or London. Do'nt get me wrong, I love the Isles and dote Edinburgh. But all these places are too edgy, bit stuck up even.But Seattle is just like a long, comfy and warm train ride(in which you may or may not be high).

I think thats enough scribbling, so till next time.Hasta Siempre!!