Fresh Start After Loss of That Loving Feeling

A week ago we were envied and hated - the money, the arrogance, the grim and grinding football. Today: glee. Seldom can the departure of a manager, particularly such a handsome one, have brought so much pleasure to so many. There is joy in the air from Arsenal to Arbroath, a feeling of comeuppance long overdue. And once the initial shock has passed, there may even be joy at Chelsea: we knew this was coming sometime, if not when or how. For a while many of those I sit close to at Stamford Bridge wanted it to happen sooner. Mourinho's departure is bad timing, but it may not be a bad result.

Chelsea, for four years a disliked team and for three a loathed one, will now enter a period of insecurity and upheaval. Some of the best players might leave; the club's management will suffer further shake-ups; the fans will sing about Jose and revolt at the appointment of his successor Avram Grant. And then something else might happen: things may become good on the pitch again. We might even become a team to admire.

It is the nature of football fandom that we are seldom happy for long. When we are playing badly and losing we are downcast. When we are playing badly and winning we take only scant pleasure from the points. And when we are winning and playing gloriously... unfortunately that hasn't happened this season or for a while, and the impatience became clear at Stamford Bridge on Tuesday night with gentle booing. In the past we have stood behind our manager whenever provoked by opposing fans, but when that support drifted away in a half-empty stadium it was clear that a love affair had entered that phase where the passion subsides and the tricky future encroaches.

The older Chelsea fan is well-schooled in the hard rules of the modern world: money can't buy you long-term happiness; a Russian oligarch will always trump a Portuguese man trained in physical education; pride will bring you down in the end. No one has felt the injustices and imbalances of the world more than Mourinho - you could see that in every post-match interview. But he seems unaware of the detrimental effects of this advanced sense of moral outrage on the football fan. Why his insatiable lust for the spotlight? He claimed he made all the headlines to deflect pressure from his players, but that's only half true. He couldn't bear the thought of not being at the core of everything, and with Abramovich that was never going to happen. If results and power struggles didn't go his way he felt obliged to shout louder than anyone, and the biggest noise came with the untimely car wreck last week.

Many times in the past year I felt obliged to shut my ears from the chatter and counter-claim, the continual complaints about penalties and offsides, the excuses about injuries, the very begrudging acknowledgments of opponents' strengths. In its place I wanted more entertaining football.

The Premiership titles and cups were sweet, and no fans will moan about those, but there is another reason I pay for three season tickets each year: something pleasurable to watch, something other than being reminded each week that I am supporting the most reviled team in the country.

Mourinho's comments were fun for a while. Here was a manager who spoke his mind, who seemed to tell it like it was, a nice change from the 'I didn't see it' attitude of Arsene Wenger. And then, very early last season, it became a little bitter, his arguments more fallible. As the Premiership slipped away, he became predictable and tedious. If home fans of the club felt like that, no wonder other fans held this view.

We want the same things from football that we want from life: love, money, success, respect. With Mourinho around we had the middle two, and I never thought I'd miss the others so much. We often ask ourselves whether it is better to leave a match after an unimpressive 1-0 victory, Lampard after 79 minutes, or whether we'd skip home happier after a 4-4 thriller, with everyone on form and the opposition happy to play openly rather than "parking the team bus" in front of the goal. Of late, the latter seems rather attractive.

Much has been said this week of how women will now have no reason to watch British football. This ignores the hundreds of thousands who love their own team, but the point is clear - the damaging cult of surface personality that transcends the game. The predominant view we have of Mourinho from Row 10 in the East Stand Upper is the back of his head, and binoculars reveal slight balding. Usually we know there's a view of him to be had when the away supporters start up with "Sit down Mourinho" or much worse, and our guys start chanting his name in full as a counter. The initial jibes were funny - the Arsenal fans singing "Is your coat from Matalan?" - but recently we just felt like joining in.

What will we miss about him? The success, perhaps. The team spirit he has engendered. And what will we miss less? The bad signings. The ceaseless carping. The slumbering afternoons as we fail to play the exciting stuff we did with Gullit, Vialli, Zola and even Claudio Ranieri. Do not underestimate the appeal of being an underdog, as we will be at Old Trafford tomorrow.

Chelsea will not become loved by their detractors overnight, but at least they should be loved by their own. The most we can hope for from opponents is vague appreciation of a game honestly and well played. That would be a start.