THE SEASON at Stamford Bridge, the strangest in English football history, ended in sunshine, and an absolutely bizarre inability from a club that has spent so much money to be able to relate either to its manager or fans.

Claudio Ranieri, who has apparently still not been told whether he is to be sacked and replaced with a junior member of his profession from Portugal, insisted on joining the party long after the finish. “One Ranieri!” the 40,000 sang, “there’s only one Ranieri!” Indeed there is, but where will this one be when next season begins? In the programme notes, both he and the club captain, Marcel Desailly, were still writing messages to the faithful suggesting they and the club will improve together in the future.

What else could they do, what else makes sense in this hopelessly mismanaged situation, where a club has surpassed itself and some of the key figures have been so miserably treated from on high? Good luck to Ranieri; may he take his laughter and his wonderfully spirited approach with him, and may he come out on top of Chelsea in the years to come.

With the fate of both teams already decided, with only pride and the points to pursue, this was a match getting in the way of the farewells. And it showed: down the King’s Road, many a Chelsea fan preferred a late pint to rushing to the ground for kick-off and, alas, inside the stadium some Leeds United supporters seemed to have nothing better to do on their expensive day out in the Premiership than to turn their spite on Alan Smith.

He was born in their city, he had done more than his absent striking partner Mark Viduka to try to keep his club up, and now, inevitably, he will be sold off. “You’re scum and you won’t be back!” yelled the mindless. If they think about it, he may be back in the Premiership; they will not for a long time.

And it is wretchedly sad. One year ago, both these clubs were in financial dire straits: one found Roman Abramovich, the other found a trapdoor to insolvency.

That too was evident on the pitch. At their leisure, Chelsea strolled forward with little resistance. Three times Eidur Gudjohnsen squandered chances, the third being a header off target from four yards after a pinpoint centre from the left by Jesper Gronkjaer. Remember that — accuracy from the Dane who is almost certain to be dispatched elsewhere because of his inconsistency.

Inconsistent? Three times now Gronkjaer has done what he consistently failed to do in the whole of the preceding season: score a goal. It came in the 20th minute, and it was a product of seemingly well- rehearsed co-ordination on the right flank between Mario Melchiot, playing full-back, and Glen Johnson, pushed forward into midfield.

As smooth as you like, Johnson galloped forward, looked across the penalty area and chose the head of Gronkjaer as his target. And just as smoothly, Gronkjaer headed it into the net from eight yards.

It had been coming, and would’ve been one of three goals in the opening half-hour but for the resistance, the reflexes, of Scott Carson. The 18-year-old goalkeeper, making his second start, showed his considerable height and reach, and quite marvellous reactions, when a shot from Joe Cole clipped the heel of Lucas Radebe, changed course and obliged the young keeper to jack-knife through the air and flick the ball over his crossbar. A similar save, this time without the deflection, thwarted Cole again.

To say nothing happened in the second half was a slight exaggeration. There were cameos of sorcery from Cole, and there were enough squandered chances for Chelsea to reach double figures.

After 70 minutes came the only shot on the Chelsea goal by Leeds in this entire mismatch. A free kick from 30 yards, given after Melchiot had handled the ball, was struck by the substitute, Jermaine Pennant, and it rebounded off the near post before the under-employed Carlo Cudicini had moved a muscle. And then, once it had taken 20 minutes to evacuate the Leeds supporters from the stadium, the carnival procession began.

The Ranieri cabaret, the dance with the media, was entertaining to the last. Was this his final match? “I dunno!” He admitted he had told the players they could improve, with or without him, next season.

“My friends,” he said, “I don’t know how long will my summer be. I am sad because I am a Latin man, a Latin lover, I enjoy my best season. I had the chance to prove what I can do, maybe it is not enough, maybe it is my fate as a manager to build a foundation and then go out.”

Chelsea Cudicini, Melchiot, Gallas, Terry (Huth 85), Bridge, Gronkjaer, Makelele, Lampard (Nicolas 90), Johnson (Stanic 82), Cole, Gudjohnsen.

Subs Not Used: Ambrosio, Crespo.

Goals: Gronkjaer 20.

Leeds Carson, Richardson, Duberry, Radebe, Harte, Kelly, Matteo, Olembe (Barmby 80), Wilcox (Pennant 61), Milner, Smith.

Subs Not Used: Allaway, McPhail, Kilgallon.

Att: 41,276

Ref: M Dean (Wirral).

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