Our 2007-08 season can be described as nothing short of spectacular. We watched a team weighted by criticism and sceptics rise from the ashes adjoined by the hearts on their sleeves. To crumble would have been expected, but for our Chelsea boys, it also would have been too easy.
No, this season certainly was not easy, for players or for fans. But, in the true Chelsea spirit, it was thrilling, electrifying, inspiring.
The '07-08 dream may have ended, but the Chelsea flag flies high. After all, there is no better trophy to hoist.
Through rain or shine, victory or defeat, the blue flag endures, and with it, the proud history of a remarkable club.
In July 2007, Real Madrid’s Christoph Metzelder told World Soccer Magazine that John Terry is a communicator and organizer “who obviously cares deeply about his club.” Coach Avram Grant resonated these thoughts and referred to Terry as a “bionic man.”
Chelsea fans have always known both. It takes true strength of character to step up confidently as the fifth shooter (as echoed by Frank Lampard in his post-match interview), and JT did so without hesitation.
His slip-up was exactly that—a slip-up. The ground was soaked—nothing more, nothing less. He is human, after all.
And so, for tonight, we must be content to let our Rock be human. We must let him publicly weep, deny interviews, and crumble into the ground. The harsh rain, in fact, made Terry seem a bit closer to God, to a success unjustly measured by a lone victory, now washed away into the Russian soil. Our hero may have fallen, but that’s the great thing about heroes.
They rise.
We must allow him, and the entire squad, to grieve—but we cannot grieve for them. We must be here, waiting, with flags flying, seats filled, and arms wide open, ready to embrace our boys when those tears are wiped away.
They have put in the hours, done their work, proved their worthiness as players and as men. Now, it is their turn to rest, and our turn to work. Let us, the true blue and white army, stand by their glory and point towards the stars. Let us lead the march until our boys are ready to start the steps themselves towards next season’s dreams.
After all, there will be another match, another season, and even another dream—a rehabilitated one. Let us help our soldiers rise to meet it with grace and confidence.
In those tears, Terry managed to encompass it all—the player and club and fans, the match and season and history, the despair and let down and second best.
The outpouring of tears feeding the ground will spring a new season of rebirth and renewal. Not to do over, but to make right. To repaint the canvas.
They will be there, and so will we.
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