Despite José Mourinho being released from his employment as head coach at my football club almost three years ago, you could be forgiven for thinking that I have, in the Portuguese's own words, become a "voyeur", based on the number of times I've blogged about him since. This, you may recall, is a reference to one of his verbal spats with rival Arsène Wenger: "There are some guys who, when they are at home, have a big telescope to see what happens in other families. Wenger must be one of them – it is a sickness. He speaks, speaks, speaks about Chelsea."
Mourinho's regular mangling of the English language while projecting his reputation as football's great pantomime villain was tiresome then, and his antics continue to be tiresome now. If, then, for example, he is to be ired by Chelsea fans goading him on Saturday afternoon at the end of the entertainingly brusque 2-2 draw with Manchester United, then after more than a decade and a half in the English game he is clearly naive about the nature of football fans in this country (Rafa Benitez is still branded a "fat Spanish waiter" at Stamford Bridge, despite landing Chelsea a Europa League title...). Contrast, then, the standing ovation afforded United midfielder Juan Mata as he was substituted on Saturday. If you want respect, José, just look at that, even considering that the diminutive Spaniard had almost beheaded compatriot César Azpilicueta with a wayward tackle earlier in the game.
There's little shying away from the fact that Mourinho had a right to be a little peeved following Ross Barkley's injury time equaliser, when over-exuberant Chelsea technical coach Marco Ianni leapt from the dugout to celebrate, fist-pumping past the United coach once, then twice. Mourinho's reaction was, actually, quite funny: his eyes lighting up at the sight of Ianni coming back for a second bite of goading reminded me of Animal from the Muppets.
Mourinho's evacuation of his seat was equally impressive - he's four years older than me, and yet he was up and out of his chair and after Ianni like a coiled spring. It takes me a full five minutes just to get off the sofa. Ianni's behaviour was, though, out of order: you just can't do that sort of thing. He can expect sanction from both the FA and his club. Punishing Mourinho's reaction would be harsh. If any member of the Manchester United party should get a slap on the wrist for their involvement in the melee it's the combustible Ashley Young who sprinted a full 30 yards to get stuck into something that was none of his business. But, then, that's Young for you - he'd been spoiling for a fight of some kind all afternoon.
Like most outbreaks of handbags at a football match, it was all over as fast as it had begun. Someone had clearly said, probably in Portuguese, "leave it bruv, it ain't worth it", and Mourinho returned to his luxurious perch on the United bench. And that was then the mood turned really sour. "Fuck off Mourinho", sang the Matthew Harding Stand (two days before the 22nd anniversary of the Chelsea benefactor's untimely death in a helicopter crash), which inevitably goaded Mourinho further. At the final whistle, he strode purposely towards the United fans in the south-east corner of Stamford Bridge, stopping while still well in front of the East Stand, where he pranced back towards the tunnel waving three fingers in the air, occasionally stopping to point at the ground. Yes, José, we got the message, and we still don't care.
You don't 'command' respect from your former faithful. No one at Stamford Bridge needs a three-fingered reminder of the league titles Mourinho won for Chelsea, including the club's first in 50 years. Respect is something earned, not demanded. We loved Mourinho when he was at the club, and even forgave most of the eccentricities that wound up rival fans and governing bodies alike. Perhaps, though, our patience was tested too far by that 18-week period in 2015 when Chelsea went from reigning champions on the opening day of the season to one place above the relegation zone in mid-December. It was all rather baffling, how the champions could have found themselves in free-fall in the immediate next season. But, then, as we've seen, there's a Mourinho pattern. And given the theory that he'd always wanted to be the Manchester United manager - even when there wasn't a vacancy - there's still the lingering suspicion that in those final four months of 2015 it was Mourinho's plan to get himself fired, a challenge which seems more attainable at Chelsea than most others. Oddly, even in the aftermath of that period, Chelsea fans were reluctant to blame Mourinho. We were just baffled. So we cut him some slack and moved on. Mourinho, it would appear, hasn't. Even if the Harding end's chanting on Saturday was provocation on top of provocation, Mourinho's three fingers were just a demonstration of the thin skin that clads his body, and the petulance which makes him hard to like as a human being, let alone as the divisive manager of a football club.
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