Premier Division: Southampton 0–2 Chelsea
Written by Digby (Match Reports)
Southampton away. Rain in the air, mud on the touchline, and that faint smell of fear that only turns up when Chelsea are in town. The Saints gave it a go for about four minutes — then Mario bloody Cardozo smashed one in off a deflection and that was that. Curtains. Game over.
From that point on, it was a procession — the kind of game where you don’t even check the clock because you can feel who’s boss. Dimario’s lads moved the ball like it was magnetised to their boots, twenty-two shots to Southampton’s one. One. You could’ve replaced their front line with a traffic cone and no one would’ve noticed.
And when Marcelo pounced on Maksimović’s mistake in the second half, it wasn’t so much a goal as a mercy killing. 2–0, easy, efficient, inevitable. Chelsea weren’t playing football — they were conducting a sermon.
McKauley Civzelis took home man of the match, which is fair enough. Didn’t break sweat, just read the game like a paperback and swatted everything away. Brick wall, silk touch, proper player.
Dimario? Calm as ever on the sideline, arms folded, chewing on fate itself.
“The boys were relentless,” he said after the match. “We controlled the tempo. The defensive structure was impeccable.”
Translation: we came, we passed, we conquered.
Southampton fans filed out early — couldn’t blame them. Chelsea are a machine now, ticking, ruthless, inevitable. Top of the league, 80 points, +93 goal difference. You can’t even call it form anymore. It’s religion.