Welcome back, then, Eden Hazard. We’ve been expecting you. Actually, for quite a while now come to think of it. It’s a measure of how far Chelsea’s levels have dropped that a 1-0 home win against an unambitious Norwich City can be considered tangible progress. Or that a second half during which Hazard failed to add to his total of two assists or score his first goal of the season can offer compelling evidence of a return to form for the Premier League’s player of the year, who has this season seemed determined to follow one way or another the example of the last two winners of the PFA gong – Gareth Bale and Luis Suárez – both of whom abruptly disappeared.
Yet, as Hazard skipped across from left to right in an increasingly dominant second half, dainty little pink boots gleaming in the lights as he sashayed and twirled and drew opponents close before springing away, there was a sense here of a player and a team beginning to wake up from a slightly baffling daydream.
As Hazard left the pitch after 89 minutes there was a pointed standing ovation from the home fans, returned warmly by Chelsea’s No10 after a performance of twirls and flicks and, as Norwich sat doggedly deep, even a little swagger on the ball.
It must be said these were ideal opponents for a playmaker looking to rediscover some attacking rhythm. Norwich came here with a gameplan that didn’t really change even when they went 1-0 down to Diego Costa’s goal in the second half. Compact, muscular, and deep-set in a kind of 8-0-2 formation, Alex Neil’s team remained crouched behind their guard for most of the 90 minutes.
Chelsea started with six attacking midfielders on the pitch, including the 19-year-old Kenedy at left-back, a startling move from José Mourinho and no doubt a point made, vaguely, about Chelsea’s recent recruitment patterns.
If the response to a recent dearth of creativity was to hurl great dripping handfuls of small neat creative players at the problem, then Hazard is the real key for the champions. The Belgian hasn’t so much played badly as simply not played at all, a small, slightly stoop-shouldered creative genius-shaped hole at the centre of Chelsea’s attacking ambitions during a period when he has failed to score in 20 matches and had four shots on target all season in the Premier League.
Here, the desperation among Chelsea’s fans for Hazard to become Hazard again was tangible. In the first half as he skipped away from a cluster of Norwich players there was a gasp, not so much of pleasure as relief, recognition, curdled hope. A turn away from Yousouff Mulubu near the halfway line was greeted with roars and gurgles and cheers, as though, with enough noise, enough applause Chelsea’s prince really might yawn, scratch his head a couple of times and come back to life.
Hazard took a pass from Diego Costa – who, in between scoring the game’s only goal, had a horrible game at times – and ferreted his way to the goal-line. Three times he crossed low and hard only for the ball to whizz through a vacant wormhole in that packed defence.
As the second half wore on Hazard’s influence continued to grow. Twice in the early minutes he took the ball 40 yards from goal and spun into space to run at the defence, producing that familiar thrilling lateral spring from standing start, and taking the ball in his stride with his first touch where at other times this season he has needed to take breath just to get the ball under his spell. Meanwhile, Costa seemed to be playing a solely Costa-shaped game, sprinting forward to press on his own, chasing admirably if pointlessly every pass, often finding himself 30 yards from the nearest team-mate pursuing some lone, bounty hunter’s cause.
Time and again Chelsea’s manager flapped his arms in exasperation and barked and bellowed towards his lone striker, urging him at time to play closer to Hazard. His goal, when it came, was well-taken. Cutting inside Ryan Bennett, Costa paused and side-footed low into the corner. He celebrated with a slump of the shoulders, a glance up to the grey west London sky and then a kind of rueful stroll across the penalty area, an unexpectedly endearing turn from the world’s most infuriating central striker.
Some familiar problems remain for Chelsea. At times they looked a physically slight team, although as the match wore on Nemanja Matic seemed to have regained his drive. Victory aside, there was a sense of something else here too, of a gathering confidence.
Deep into the second half, as Hazard strolled around on the left wing, shuttling the ball almost sarcastically back to Cesc Fàbregas, Kenedy and Willian, the home team seemed almost – almost – to be enjoying themselves.
