Whether it was the pressure of the last minute move, questions over his fitness or the intensity of the media spotlight which resulted in Fernando Torres' atrocious form from the moment he first pulled on a Chelsea shirt, the simple fact is that he went 903 minutes before scoring a goal for his new club and for any striker, that's bound to be a confidence killer. As previously described, any striker is judged first and foremost by their ability to put the ball in the back of the net with at least some degree of regularity. A £50 million striker is expected to do so virtually every game, or at the very least make significant contributions in swaying each match in his team's direction. Torres' first game was a loss away to his future club, in which the man signed to end Chelsea's struggle for a consistent league goalscorer looked even more impotent than his competition. It didn't help that the Liverpool players showed no respect for their former colleague whatsoever, challenging him aggressively at every possible opportunity, and it's fair to suggest that they were probably feeling just as betrayed by his departure as the fans booing from the stands. That first failure set the tone for the games to come though as despite Torres straining every sinew to break his drought and his teammates doing much the same to give him the opportunities, the crucial first goal just wouldn't come. By the time it did, the relief was there for all to see in Torres' celebrations and the supporters' cheers. It was, however, the second goal in a 3-0 win over bottom-ranked club West Ham, possibly the least essential way possible for the big money striker to open his account. It took until midway through September the following season for him to score again, finding the net with a delicate lob in a 3-1 loss at Old Trafford - another inessential strike. If fans were nevertheless hoping that a goal on a big occasion might prove a turning point, Torres subsequently went and hit the worse miss of his Chelsea career to date, rounding the keeper before firing wide with the goal completely at his mercy.
28-year old English writer with a borderline obsessive passion for films, videogames, Chelsea FC, incomprehensible words and indefensible puns. Follow me on Twitter if you like infrequent outbursts of absolute drivel.
