HISTORY is something you cannot buy. It occurs; it is not created in the wallets of billionaire owners signing chequebooks with a stamp for quickness. It is about the ups and the downs and acknowledging them both equally.
John Terry: England Captain
CHEAP shot? Never let it be said that Given to Score is above taking the low ground when it isn’t appropriate, necessary or at the very least, really really funny.
When John ‘Mr Chelsea’ Terry strode forward to take the penalty to win the Champions’ League for his team. Who truly 
expected him to miss in such spectacular fashion? I certainly didn’t. He should have hit the back of the net, the first European Cup victory should have been delivered by the man who bleeds blue and white.
Something did strike me as odd on the run up for the Stamford Bridge captain. Watch the footage again and you will see on his way to the penalty area, he’s looking determined, his chest is puffed out and he’s pushing his captains’ armband into full view. Moving it round to the front so that the watching world are in absolutely no uncertainty as to who is about to achieve history for this club. He believed it, and he wanted everyone else to believe it as well. Confidence in taking a penalty and believing you will score is one thing. Hyping up the moment yourself is a dangerous game to play because there is every chance that in such circumstance, a person can be hoisted by their own petard.
Burn Me Out or Bring Me Home
SILVERWARE should not be the reason someone follows a team. It is accepted that it is the reason some players join a club but at the most basic and important level, that of supporters, it should be something deeper. Make no mistake, however, silverware is the chocolate sprinkles on the icing on the cake.
That thought occurred to me as I cringed watching John Terry stride forward to take a penalty to win the European Cup for Chelsea. He was going to win it, I was hearing as much from my brother who could not have cared less about the result and barely even remembered there was a game for some sort of cup. My brother was whispering that belief as I turned away. So I had to rationalise it in my head. It is not life or death, it really is more important to fans. At that moment I was trying to find something that I could cling to in defeat, and there was nothing. It was about to hurt.
I remembered the tears I cried when Aston Villa beat us to win the Coca Cola Cup final, the one where Les Sealey played in goal for us and Kanchelskis got sent off for a hand ball. That was some third rate cup domestically, THIS was the European Cup for crying out loud. It was going to hurt – no-one should ever believe that football support was rational.
Just as John Terry strode forward I noticed his confidence and I thought to myself that it would be very funny if, given his outward stride, he completely bumbled his effort. Luckily he did and we were still in it. Cut to Nicolas Anelka and completely the opposite happened, he didn’t look confident at all and as Edwin flew across the goal to make the save I jumped the highest on the bed as my Dad and brother sat next to me. I got some major height and I punched the air because we had snatched victory from the jaws of defeat.
Given to Score 