BACK in July, I found myself wondering if Ken Bates’ diary of the season which climaxed with his darling Blues clinching promotion at home to that nasty Leeds United really stacked up against one of the more influential works of his chosen genre.

The publishers (Chelsea Football Club) clearly thought so, for the 244-page paperback pictured to the right retailed at eight quid back in 1984. In today’s terms, that’s a few pieces of silver shy of a crisp twenty pound note.

I’ve acquired a cheap, forlornly under-thumbed second half copy of the out-of-print “Chelsea… My Year”, and to breathe new life into this dainty tome in its 25th anniversary year, I’m going to read it so you don’t have to.

So polish your bottle-bottom specs, have a case of Pouilly-Fumé brought up from the cellar and join us on Twitter over the coming days as we discover what was on the Chairman’s mind all those years ago.

Don’t tweet? Fear not, I’ll post the lot up here once this sorry escapade’s over.

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