Not a case of if, but when

Picture: Twitter/ChelseaFC

We’re a wacky lot, us football fans. We hold grudges long after they’ve served any meaningful purpose. Just ask Rafa Benitez, who, as Liverpool boss, made a habit of winding up Chelsea supporters...only to become, temporarily, the Chelsea manager (a toxic appointment, if ever there was one, but one which produced the 2013 Europa League title...). Just ask David Elleray, the referee whose pettiness contributed to Chelsea’s 4-0 humiliation to Manchester United in the 1994 FA Cup Final. Just ask Dean Saunders, whose tackle on Chelsea’s Paul Elliott in September 1992 effectively ended the defender’s career. We don't forget.

We football fans cheer and boo for the most capricious reasons. After Chelsea lost 3-0 at home to Bournemouth last Wednesday night, there were a few boos at full time, but these were largely drowned out by a chorus of "Antonio! Antonio!". There wouldn't have been a fan dressed in blue at Stamford Bridge that evening who expects Antonio Conte to be in charge of the club at the start of next season, but the singing made for a slightly odd end to what had, on balance, been a somewhat comic evening, in what is turning out to be a somewhat strange season.

Back in August it was generally accepted that Chelsea's defence of the Premier League title would be fraught with challenges, not least of which, the fact that it's harder to defend a title when you've got rivals like Manchester City and Manchester United hugely outspending you. If nothing else, Conte has conducted a lot of expectation management, reminding anyone who'll listen that Chelsea are (until their Carabao Cup exit to Arsenal) fighting on four fronts, whereas last season they didn't have a European distraction. And, without calling a spade a spade, he hasn't been getting the reinforcements he's wanted.

However, at risk of repeating my post from a couple of Fridays ago, when it seemed like the January transfer window was closing without much satisfaction for Conte, his apparent digs at the Chelsea board have continued, and have been at times none-too subtle. All of which reminds me of the great Stanley Holloway's ode, The Lion And Albert, in which young Albert visits Blackpool Zoo, taking with him "a stick with an 'orse's 'ead 'andle (the finest that Woolworth's could sell)" and promptly sticks it in the ear of "a great big lion called Wallace, whose nose was all covered with scars". "You could see that the lion didn't like it. 'E pulled Albert inside the cage with 'im, and swallered the little lad - 'ole!".

You can probably see where I'm going with this: take José Mourinho, Avram Grant, Luiz Felipe Scolari, Ray Wilkins, Carlo Ancelotti, André Villas-Boas, Roberto Di Matteo and Mourinho (again) for reference. Last week various newspapers reported that Chelsea's patience with Conte was running out, with former Barcelona manager Luis Enrique topping the list of potential replacements. Not that, for once, results are entirely to blame: the team that ran away with the Premier League last season, as well as becoming FA Cup finalists, have, in the last few weeks, recorded 4-0 and 5-0 wins over Brighton and Stoke, respectively, 0-0 results against Leicester, Arsenal and Norwich, and an impressive 3-0 home win over Newcastle in the FA Cup. Not bad results, but the goalless draws and £60 million signing Álvaro Morata's chronic dithering in front of goal (before he suffered a back injury) have added a tone of attrition to an otherwise OK season. Perhaps, then the "Antonio!" chants were more in irony than support.

When Mourinho was breeding "palpable discord" in the first four months of the 2015-16 season, before he was sacked, his mood had a very noticeable effect on the team. Conte hasn't got that bad, but his press conference comments about squad size have sounded like carping. His touchline demeanour on Wednesday night, too, spoke volumes: for two thirds of the game he was his usual self, barking at his players like a distressed seal, but then as the strength of the embarrassment seemed apparent, his shoulders dropped and he cut a somewhat lonesome figure. Forget chanting -  some in the crowd would probably have wanted to put an arm around him.

Conte is, after all, Italian, which means that emotions are not so much worn on the sleeve as engulfing the entire body like a onesie. His post-match press conference on Wednesday and pre-game press conference on Friday brought many of these emotions out in the raw - from defiance over the way Chelsea are, actually, playing, to how he's getting "120%" out of his players (not-so-subtle subtext: 'I'm lacking players'). The club is believed to have cautioned him over these niggles, and yet they continue, suggesting that the relationship may well be at breaking point. If not beyond repair.

Picture: Twitter/ChelseaFC

Tonight's game against Watford could prove crucial. It's unlikely that Chelsea will sack Conte if the result is indifferent, nor that he'll walk out before his contract ends (he's said as much that he wouldn't). But these are tricky days: tonight, Morata will still be out, backup striker Michy Batshuayi has been loaned to Borussia Dortmund (where he scored twice on his debut, just to rub salt into the open wound of Chelsea's goal scoring), new signing Olivier Giroud only joined from Arsenal last Wednesday, and the other great hope, Ross Barkley (who also signed in the January window), has joined a lengthening list of hamstring injuries.

On the one hand, you can't blame Conte for making pointed statements that he is "exploiting this squad at the maximum level", but on the other hand, while some of his personal transfer targets haven't materialised, the club has hardly been profligate when it comes to bringing fresh blood in.

Fatigue was, clearly, a factor last Wednesday evening at Stamford Bridge. Even substitutes, like Cesc Fàbregas, looked sluggish and jaded. Bournemouth took their chances well, but they were playing a team that had played 40 games already this season, and it showed. On this, we fans have sympathy. We even joke, as we walk up the umpteen steps to reach our seats in the Upper East Stand at Stamford Bridge, that we seem to have been doing it a lot in recent weeks. And we're not highly trained athletes running around Cobham most days of the week. Something has to give, and I doubt (though I may not be sure...) it will be my hamstring. There's some truth in that fable of young Albert and Wallace...