I’ve tried to avoid the Spurs documentary ‘All or nothing’, mainly because it’s about Tottenham and secondly because of Jose Mourinho.
It doesn’t look right does it, him prancing around in purple like a shit Barney the dinosaur.
He looks like a former popstar who had some chart success but now finds themselves working at Homebase.
But there were so many great little clips doing the rounds on Twitter that I gave in and watched, and boy, am I glad I did.
I think it’s because you know how it ends (in nothing) that makes it so compelling. All the good spirit that came with the new manager bounce ending up again in abject failure.
Daniel Levy asking Father Christmas for a top four finish and a trophy and Father Christmas resounding with a ‘new phone who dis?’
Mourinho’s arrival at Tottenham Hotspur has some parallels to his first stint in the Premier League back in 2004.
Here came a manager fresh off of winning the Champions League trophy arriving at a club with the resources to do well, but not the know how, similar to the squad he’s inherited at Tottenham.
Mourinho installed a mentality in Chelsea that served them for over a decade, us against the world, doing it our way and not apologising for it.
Hiding in laundry baskets, sshing Liverpool supporters and claiming managers had been in to see the referee at half time, were all part of the Mourinho master plan to make the world hate us.
And it worked, back to back Premier League titles, a League Cup and FA Cup Trophy catapulted Chelsea to the top of English football.
Jose was adored, in our eyes he could do no wrong. Instead of singing for the players we sang his name, the charming Portuguese man in the grey coat.
Even though results had dipped and the mood changed in the period before Mourinho’s sacking in September 2007, he still retained the backing of those inside Stamford Bridge.
His departure was met with protests outside the ground and for a number of weeks, his name was still sung during matches.
Two Premier League trophies, one FA Cup and a League Cup trophy has cemented Mourinho’s place as the most successful Chelsea Manager of all time and the legacy of the make-up of how Chelsea play would live on.
Mourinho returned in 2010, as Inter Milan head coach, beating Carlo Ancelotti’s future double winners 1-0 as the Italian side went on to win the Champions League.
Even that day, as Chelsea limped out of Europe once again, Mourinho still received the adulation of Stamford Bridge, who were witnessing Inter display all the attributes that had made Chelsea so successful.
His return in 2014 heralded a new era for both Mourinho and Chelsea.
Chelsea had captured the elusive Champions League trophy in 2012, but new signings since then, players such as Eden Hazard, Oscar, Kevin De Bruyne et al, needed the top level manager that would help them realise potential.
Mourinho was meant to be that man, but old habits die young, and players like De Bruyne and Mo Salah were sold without due care to make way for a more finished product.
Another league title duly followed in 2015/16, new signings Cesc Fabregas and Diego Costa combining to devastating effect.
Then came the palpable discord.
A second sacking, this time with no hope of reconciliation.
Mourinho was free to join any club he wanted (or wanted him) and he did, agreeing to take over at Manchester United.
We always loved him, but this was where the bad blood started.
When Antonio Conte’s side put 4 past him, he was quick to remind those inside Stamford Bridge that it was him who won 3 Premier League titles.
Not us, not we, him, I.
It always was and always will be about him.
I actually felt a bit sorry for him whilst at United. Living out of a hotel, looking increasingly depressed, his appearance unkept, out of character.
He took United to 2nd in the league, two trophies, but was still sacked.
Football was seemingly passing him by, new age coaches like old faux Pep Guardiola and Jurgen Klopp, attack focused, high intensity, high pressure, began to make Mourinho look out of touch with the modern game.
Winning has always been Mourinho’s only focus. It didn’t matter how. If it meant putting 11 players behind the ball, so be it.
Just do not lose.
Now, things were different. Winning has to be done in style, a way of playing, an identity and philosophy are the order of the day.
A club who for five years followed the path of philosophy and style under Mauricio Pochettino. Spurs became a side great to watch but you knew would crumble when it mattered most.
They are desperate for some form of silverware and believe Mourinho is the man to finally achieve it.
And that for me, is where I drew the line.
Watching him say I’m “Mr Tottenham” and that he had no mixed feelings ahead of our clash last November as Chelsea had sacked him, hurt.
After everything we’d gone through together, the unwavering support. And he dismissed us, just like that, for them.
But then, it’s Christmas Day during the documentary, the players turn up for training and Jose sits down, and you can tell he’s broken, because the day before, the family dog died.
In his own words, he’s fucked.
And so am I.
I wanted to hug him, I wanted him to be happy again, I wanted the football world to admire him again.
He revealed his human side, he was vulnerable, he was the man we once loved again.
All that because of his dead fucking dog.