Chelsea vs Barcelona: Breaking Down Blues' Improbable Champions League Trip

Is it possible that Cinderella lived the privileged life of a stepsister? Is it possible that David was just as big (and as rich) as Goliath?

Chelsea would certainly like to think so, or could at least lay claim to such storybook turns after upending world-beaters Barcelona on their unlikely path to the UEFA Champions League Final in Munich.

A Tale of Two Seasons

Few could've wholeheartedly begrudged the Blues for coming up short against the reigning European champions. After all, their season had long been in shambles, their shot at the English Premier League crown long lost to the failed tactics of since-sacked first-year boss Andre Villas-Boas.

An AVB-botched transition from the old guard of Frank Lampard, Didier Drogba and John Terry to a newer, younger regime of Juan Mata, Daniel Sturridge and Gary Cahill has left the Blues sixth in the Premiership table, with only one clear opportunity to return to the top-flight of continental football.

Win the Champions League.

That proposition seemed nothing short of ludicrous a week ago. Now? Not so much.

Chelsea turned a 3-1 deficit against up-and-comers Napoli into a 5-4 win on aggregate in the Round of 16, depriving the world of the opportunity to watch Edinson Cavani, Ezequiel Lavezzi and Marek Hamsik dazzle in attack.

Then, they turned away Portuguese power Benfica by way of a 3-1 advantage in the quarterfinals.

New Kings of Catalonia

Now, they've done the impossible, stifling Barca's ability to put the ball in the net while notching three goals of their own between the tiki-taka...

Despite being outshot, 46 to 12 (11-4 on goal).

Despite yielding the possession split, 72 to 28 percent.

Despite completing all of 302 passes compared to Barca's 1,494.

Despite carrying but a 1-0 advantage into Camp Nou, where the Blaugrana have averaged four goals per game in Champions League play.

Despite losing Gary Cahill to a hamstring injury in the seventh minute, forcing Jose Bosingwa's unibrow into the fray, and watching John Terry sent off with a red card after kneeing Alexis Sanchez in or around his rear-end 30 minutes later on Tuesday.

Despite going down 2-0 on scores by Sergio Busquets and Andres Iniesta.

No More Tiki-Tactics

So how did Chelsea do it? How did 10 men put up an immovable-enough object to slow down the unstoppable force that is the Barcelona attack?

In a phrase, they parked the bus in Barca's end. And then they waited, hunkering down and covering their eyes until the final whistle sounded.

Of course, the Blues benefited tremendously from the whims of Lady Luck. She seemed to be stuck in Lionel Messi's golden boot, tickling his foot during a penalty shot in the 49th minute and on another chance that bounced off the post in the 83rd.

She was also sneaking about the grounds when Ramires chipped a Lampard pass past Victor Valdes just before the half–and when Fernando Torres broke free for a score to seal the deal in stoppage time.

That's right, Fernando Torres.

He-Who-Could-Not-Score-Goals, He-Who-Came-on-for-Drogba-in-the-80th-Minute, became The Castillian Who Cast Out the Catalonians.

Like the off-flavor icing on a strangely satisfying victory cake.

Flipping the Script

But what's most remarkable about this whole situation isn't that Chelsea are in the European final with a caretaker manager for the second time (with the pea-headed Roberto Di Matteo playing the role of Avram Grant, who filled the role of Jose Mourinho, who may well be standing on the touchline opposite RDM at Allianz Arena later this month).

It's not that Chelsea have miraculously triumphed against the odds, spawning one of the most remarkable tales to grace the world of club football in years.

What's most remarkable, rather, is that Chelsea—one of the richest football clubs in the world, one backed by the blustery billions of Roman Abramovich—have managed to fit their feet into glass slippers despite a Stamford Bridge closet full of Stamford Loafers and John Lobbs. They've conquered Goliath not with sticks and stones, but with silver spoons and ballistic missiles.

It's as much a testament to the futility of Roman's temperament as it is to RDM's ability to rally his troops to action and restore the old guard to a level much more reminiscent of its former glory.

So bring on Madrid, the other pretty boys of La Liga, or bring on Bayern Munich, whose home ground will host the Champions League final.

Chelsea have made it to the ball before midnight, even with John Terry and Ramires catching rides on the Red Card Express.

They've nothing to lose—and haven't for some time now.

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