But Chelsea obviously don't see themselves as a normal club which is why Avram Grant faces an uncertain future even though he only has to find a way to beat Liverpool's two-man team to reach a Champions League Final, something that proved beyond Jose Mourinho at Stamford Bridge despite unlimited funds.

I quite like Grant. He seems to be, unlike his predecessor, a decent enough bloke with a cute, self-depracating sense of humour. It's true to say that he's a modest man with plenty to be modest about, but it isn't his fault that he was promoted to manage a club that clearly believe trophies can be bought rather than earned.

It's said that Grant's profile no longer fits Chelsea's, yet he is easily the most likeable character at the club. The owner is a brooding misery guts, the chief executive is a smarmy, self-important stooge in a suit, the captain is a national embarrassmment and there are more prima donnas among the playing staff at Stamford Bridge than in the Royal Ballet Company.




IN fact the power held by chief executives at top flight football clubs baffles me.

What exactly do they do when there are no new stadiums to find, new players to tap up or European Cup draws to attend?

In the old days there would be a chairman (usually a self-made local businessman on a power trip), a secretary (a man who knew how to bend the rules) and a manager (rather than a celebrity).

Now clubs employ unnecessary press officers (all reporters need is a phone and some numbers), scores of commercial staff (clubs shops are empty Monday to Friday) and financial controllers, all overseen by the omnipotent chief executive on a salary big enough to cause jealousy in the Jonathan Ross household.

That's why I find the current discomfort being suffered by Liverpool chief executive Rick Parry very amusing.

These scheming nonentities take too much reflected glory and accept too little blame – hopefully that might be about to change at Anfield at least.