Match report - Chelsea vs Newcastle United at Stamford

Chelsea's Jorrel Hato (left) and Marc Cucurella looks dejected as Newcastle United players celebrate victory following the Premier League match at Stamford Bridge, London <i>(Image: John Walton/PA Wire)</i>
Chelsea's Jorrel Hato (left) and Marc Cucurella looks dejected as Newcastle United players celebrate victory following the Premier League match at Stamford Bridge, London (Image: John Walton/PA Wire)
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There were half-time boos, but by the end, as Chelsea failed to cancel out a simple through-the-middle goal in the 18th minute by Newcastle and succumbed to a 1-0 defeat at the Bridge, fans only had energy for a weary sigh, writes Tim Harrison.

When the Blues settle into the infuriating rhythm of interminable side-to-side passing – ignoring supporters’ frequent pleas to ‘Shoot!’ – it’s as if the entire team has been hypnotised.

Welcome to metronome football. The maddening thing is, manager Liam Rosenior (still, on balance, a popular choice) seems unable to inject a real sense of urgency into his well-paid players until it’s far too late.

Tino Livramento fed Joe Willock with a long central pass. He squared, and Anthony Gordon had the simple task of netting. And that was that. As each of the subsequent 72 minutes ticked by, plus generous stoppage time, Chelsea fell short in the quest for a leveller.

No sendings off this time, so no ’10 man’ excuses. Instead, Rosenior blamed a “lack of mental freshness”. There’s a new one. He added that a shortage of wingers (Pedro Neto suspended, Estevao and Jamie Gittens injured) was also a problem.

After midweek Champions League action, a trip to Everton’s new stadium looms, and the second successive 5.30pm kick-off.

At this rate, Chelsea’s hopes of top-flight European football next season appear doomed. There may be some crumbs of comfort with fixtures against sleepy little towns on the continent in the lower tournaments, but it appears that the Barcelonas and Borussias will have to wait a year.

Frantically besieging opponents in the dying moments of a game, and peppering the goal with distant, hurried shots, are too little, too late.

If Rosenior and his backroom staff could only listen to the wise analysis of exasperated fans on the post-match tube trains out of Fulham Broadway at the end of each doomed encounter, solutions might yet be found.

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