The whole point for the trip, besides getting to see Drogba, was to go to the mid-week Newcastle game. Were a point behind them and battling with them, Spurs, and Arsenal for 3rd and 4th place. Problem was that I didn't have a ticket for the game. I got a ticket for the QPR game off Craigslist from the little woman, so I spent the day looking for a ticket to this showdown
(Future note to anyone going to a game at Stamford Bridge, if you walk down to the box office on first thing in the morning on game day, they make extra seats available from ticket holders who can't go. Probably like that at most stadiums. Just FYI). I emailed a few people who had extra seats but they were only selling them by the pair. I finally found this guy Omir who would let me pay extra if he just gave me a single seat, which was next to him. Didn't really consider that the guy could be all gross and old and smell or something like that. Went to the meeting spot before the game and found a guy who I thought I was looking for and asked if he was Omir and we both had this huge smile on each others faces when we realized neither one of us were creeps gave each the "I'm glad you're young and cool and not gross" handshake. Clean, good looking guy, nicely dressed, just like me, so perfect fit. Probably the gayest moment of my life, but not ashamed at all. He had someone else with him who took the other ticket, another young guy from Australia, so we had a solid crew going in.
Unlike the QPR game, I stopped at a betting station before the game to throw some money down on the
goal scorers of the game. Threw 10pound each on Drogba, Ramires, and Lampard to score and 20pound on Drogba to score the first goal. Felt pretty good about it until I found out Drogba wasn't starting. Then found out Juan Mata wasn't starting, or Lampard, or Ashley Cole. I get that we're gonna beat Bayern so we're gonna be in the Champions League anyway, but how does RDM send out this lineup in a do-or-die league game? I wasn't alone in complaining about the lineup, the guys behind me were ranting also. If you say you're gonna send out the best possible lineup, then send out your best players.
As for the actual game... I can only come to the conclusion that Papiss Cisse is a witch. Guy was just unstoppable. Forgot how about how pathetic Chelsea played all night. Newcastle were better and Cisse out of this world. Scored the first goal right in my face, which was pretty crazy. Not sure how it looked on TV, but he made it look like he was playing hacky sack. His second goal was so incredible that I actually feel like to have witnessed it. There are probably football fans well older than me who have been to hundreds of games and haven't seen a goal of that quality before. Before the ball even hit ground off the side-netting, Omir was already shaking my hand to leave along with most of the Chelsea fans left. I'll never get the image of the Newcastle fans celebrating out of my head and sat the rest of the game listening to them sing "He scores when he wants! He scores when he waaaaants. Papiss Cisse, he scores when he wants". I've had nightmares since I got back to the States. The result was obviously a back breaker for the team finishing top 4 but I can't say I'm not happy I can say I saw that goal in person.
After the game I went back to the bar for the last time to spend the rest of my money and drink myself to sleep. Met a girl named Bethany (always loved the name Beth) and told her I was too lazy to convert my money back to dollars from pounds, so I'd pay for her drinks to get rid of money I had on me. My smile must have been on point cause she paid for my drinks even though I insisted. Anyway, we went out the rest of the night, ate a BBQ chicken pita thing from some Arab place, yada yada yada, we're still friends and talking today. So I rebounded pretty nicely from Cisse's screamer to meeting a new (attractive) friend
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