Picture the scene: Chelsea’s Cobham training ground, 24 hours after the Premier League Champions relinquished their two year reign as F.A. Cup holders by crashing out to Everton. You’d love to be a fly on the wall wouldn’t you?
Prima Nocta is a term that is defined as “an alleged legal right allowing the lord of an estate to take the virginity of his serfs' maiden daughters.” Replace “lord of the estate” with “Chelsea Captain” and “Serf’s maiden daughters” with “team mates wives” and you could probably believe I were describing the ritual that is undergone whenever Chelsea lose a match. When you think of a club as “unique” (for a lack of a more professional term) as Chelsea then it’s hard not to let your mind wander in regards to what really goes on at Cobham.
Whilst “King Terry” has his fill of the WAG’s (providing he’s not conducting £10,000-a-head tours of Stamford Bridge for “charity” that is) Lampard is likely sat in a corner comfort eating, whereas John Obi Mikel is sure to be walking around asking if anyone knows exactly what John Obi Mikel brings to the team.
"Seriously guys, what do I do?"
However, amidst the chaos, one man stands head and shoulders above the rest. This shining example of a player, in a rare lapse, was primarily responsible for Chelsea’s agonising shoot-out defeat at the hands of Everton; missing the decisive kick to gift the Toffees passage into the next round. Desperate to make amends, this player spends the entire day doing shooting practice.
Well, something along those lines anyway.
You see, when our good friend Mr. Cole isn’t shooting himself in the foot with his constant mistreatment of a woman who is considered so beautiful, that most men would volunteer to buy a Stoke season ticket if there were the chance of small talk with the Geordie Princess, it turns out he likes to literally shoot other people in the side.
Once a Gunner, always a gunner I suppose.
You couldn’t make it up could you? Whilst a team like United would spend the aftermath of a cup defeat working on correcting mistakes made and preparing for the next game, the aristocrats of London decide they’d rather use their work experience kids as clay pigeons. Possibly the most humorous element of this story was the club’s insistence that the air rifle did not belong to Cole, which is such an irrelevant and ridiculous defence it’s almost depressing. Could you imagine someone making that excuse in court? “Well yeah I shot the guy but it’s not like I own the gun or anything.” Yeah, depressing was definitely the correct term to use for a supposedly elite football club that has the PR skills of a particularly naive 10 year old. Despite their ever loosening grip on the Barclays Premier League title, I suppose there are a couple of accolades left in this Chelsea team, although if things don't change, the only awards synonymous with Chelsea will be the Darwin Awards.
-Aaron
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