Frank Lampard decided to resign after he sent the Russians on his own list to the grocery store. It's not like all the items were first-class, but there was an option for the legend to warm up in a pan or leap straight into the pit.
You can't bite your own elbow, say the Russians, who somehow still shy away from wolves and run into bears throughout history. When it comes to Moscow, it is the same for the neighboring countries. It seems to Frank Lampard that he was similar to the previously mentioned elbow, but he was clearly tossed from the yacht-like the nine coaches before him, which Roman was able to lend him when he was playing for him.
What's been changing?
First, Lampard is not nice enough to step on Abramovich's pirate board.
And that was already obvious this summer when Marina Granovskaja counted a ton of reinforcement currency. Perhaps some wise official was making a blueprint for firing the coach in those moments when the Russians were writing checks. The more naive claimed that a place in Chelsea's past preserves Lampard better than most sorcery, but you get a watch and a photo for that, the new rules apply when you go to the workplace.
First and foremost, you rely on the ruler's grace or let me move you from those on the upper floors to the corporate world. If you've watched "The Platform," it's obvious to you that, for a brief time, you have to eat junk. Today's world has little time for big thoughts, for movies that run longer than two hours, for books that need to be considered. Somewhere in the last decade, we come to Roman's notion that money needs to be invested fast in a world like that because Russia has taught you that nothing is petrified, and you never know how long it will last.
Oh, still, it's the same problem, whether it's the original redistribution of money or the institutional manipulation of the old legislative democracies, Lamps is like those phones that somehow come in and fall down right before their promise expires.
Last year, without strain, he made a decent performance, it is simpler with the students, the price has not yet been pasted on the jersey, and there are a million explanations why their appetite would drag the coach along, whether he had experience or not. By watching from the walls as maybe the greatest player in the history of the club, he was able to lead them across Cobham, impressing them, except the authority is expended much quicker than the authority of information. Those same children will call for dessert as they fill their stomachs, and when you bring in their places people who are not convinced they are better than themselves, you have already placed gnawed bones among the piranhas.
Why does Abraham think that Werner is stronger, or if Kai Haverz is not a hype, Mason Mount or Pulisic? As this season has proven, there is no excuse.
For Lampard, it's not an alibi, you have to eat what's served and smile, and that's how it is in clubs like Chelsea. Certainly, he would rather take Declan Rice than Haverz, but the Russians took his list with them when they went shopping. That's the key, and some of the groceries ended up at Stamford Bridge. With the message that you have to make the best meal from what Mourinho calls "first-class eggs" (I said that, I like the metaphor). If you run into the fire directly for a brief time from a pan that heats up slowly does not make a difference. It was a matter of time and Lampard was destined to be burnt.
Times that do not happen, and someone who wanted Chelsea to walk, except with the problems of Liverpool, the intellectual attitude of City to stuff, the wanderings of United that appear to make sense (I'm sorry Ole called you a professor of physical education) does not comprehend life, not sports.
Now we should go into depth, if you have two left-backs, if it's prudent to buy Chilwell, or if you're the security commander who's learning English at the age of 36, if Kepa's really to blame for all the bad stuff in West London, we'd go astray after the rent rises to a growing crime rate.
Since, much more than Lampard's coaches, and there were at least six or seven of the ten coaches Abramovich had shot with rich severance pay, he was unable to bite himself on the elbow, i.e. to be quicker than time had passed.
Neither will the next one, even though Thomas Tuchel knows how to cope with pain, but with people, he is much poorer. And it's such an issue at Chelsea, come on, the honeymoon lasts for a bit, and then you know that someone has taken the deck chairs and the umbrellas off and the beach is closed. Or worse, because you are no longer a visitor, but a winter guard.
How is it that the working standards of Chelsea do not change?
"Ranieri was the first to start, he looked like a character from the movie "Dead Man Walks," I once wrote about the "Green Mile" at this club, everything after Mourinho's first term was a combination of a situation where you pet a bear and your last thought was "Well, what will he do, he seemed so calm.
I was watching a cartoon with a kid named Masha
Or as they mean, "The devil swims in calm water" in the Roman area.