And normal service has resumed, folks. After meek home capitulations against such welterweights as Wolves and Swansea, not to mention our feeder club, Southampton, we raise our game, per usual, for real contenders, the kleptocrat funded fuckers from Fulham (you read that right, they're in Fulham). Cue headlines all over the land containing the words "stop" and "rot".
So our last victory was against an equally loaded outfit, meaning we have a worryingly schizophrenic record in this league. We can go toe to toe with the big hitters and spenders while struggling against the also rans. I think that's the opposite of a flat track bully.
Let's start with Mr Mignolet. I don't think he was at fault for the goal, in fact I'm not sure anyone was. Our keeper may have been nowhere near set when Sideshow Bob (sporting a rain made Jericurl) decided to have a little pop but then nobody was, not even Willian who seemed bemused when his compatriot trotted up to the ball and smacked it. Only he will know for sure but my guess is that the only person on the pitch who knew what was about to happen was the permed one himself, and fair play to him because it was a stunningly insouciant take, the sort of off the cuff thing you see in five a side games, only then usually followed by a miss and a bollocking. You have to give credit to Luiz, he plays the game like that, with a devil may care attitude which does not inspire confidence in his defensive qualities but certainly entertains.
Then Mignolet guesses right, literally, to save Costa's penalty and Matip's blushes. One does not simply wave a leg at Costa in the box. That's like bending over in front of Donald Drumpf. In between, we had the same patient, focused approach play we had all night but this time with an end product earned by Henderson's astute cross, Milner's studied competence and Gini's gamble.
Did we deserve more? I don't think so. We may have had more of the ball but the visitors looked more dangerous, with Moses frequently in worrying amounts of space, one of the drawbacks of playing a midfield three against a midfield five. As against that, Chelsea looked comfortable enough in defence with Courtois rarely troubled, even pulling off a dive for the cameras as Wijnaldum pinged one almost straight at him. Firmino had a few opportunities but fluffed them, perhaps blinded by his own teeth. Fabregas came on and caused no end of problems.
Home draws often feel like losses but not so much when you're on a stinky run and playing the table toppers. We did well to get out of that with a point, when you consider the opposition and even more so when you consider the alternative, gleeful back pages about ninety year records and such. Chelsea are a very impressive outfit right now, no shame in dropping a point to the team everyone hoped we'd beat. And so the two follically augmented managers share the spoils, we end our horrid home run and continue to breathe heavily on the necks of Arsenal and Spurs. Mané is back, Matip has had his version of a shocker and Mignolet gets us out of jail. We'll take it.