And when Michel Platini draped the gong around his neck, Kenyon DID sport the smuggest of smiles, while just behind him John Terry was dissolving before our eyes.

What planet was Kenyon on? Did he not realise Chelsea had just lost the Champions League final in the most agonising fashion?

Could he not, as Sir Bobby Charlton did, melt into the background with an element of dignity?

Then again, Kenyon was probably on Planet Peter plotting his next Machiavellian move.

In a bizarre twist, maybe he was a tad relieved there would be no complications in executing the dismissal of Avram Grant.

By the next day Kenyon was wasting no time in erecting the gallows when he spoke coldly about second-best not being good enough for Chelsea.

What if they'd beaten Manchester United?

I think Average Grant would still have been a goner. But Kenyon would have been left squirming as he tried to explain why a manager who had just led the club to their first European Cup had to go.

Frankly, it's about time Kenyon started squirming.

It was clear for a long time that Grant wasn't up to the job, since, well the day he took over from Jose Mourinho.

Anyone with an ounce of insight into the game knew that.

 

Talk to people down at Portsmouth and ask them what Grant actually did during his time as director of football and they will stare blankly back.

By all accounts, most of his days were spent shut away in an office on the phone. Roman Abramovich was apparently often on the other end of the line.

As Chelsea chief executive, Kenyon earns a millionaire's salary so he should know these things.

And since the club remain almost solely reliant on Abramovich's patronage, one of Kenyon's main responsibilities is surely to make sure the club has the right manager.

On that front, Kenyon has to take credit for guiding Abramovich in the direction of Mourinho in 2004.

But he lacked the balls to advise his employer that it was foolish for the club's Tsar — sorry, owner — to think he and his cronies could run the team better than Mourinho.

Kenyon was even more remiss in not telling Abramovich of the folly of appointing Grant.

Within days Grant had lost a grip on the dressing-room. And, as predicted, when it came to the big moments he lacked the required tactical nous.

But it looks as though Kenyon has become a yes-man who tries to justify his existence by reverting to type and rattling on about 'turning the world blue'.

Predictable, when at heart he is merely a bland brand man.

That Chelsea went so close on three fronts this season is a tribute to the spirit and talent of key players.

Now, though, the club faces a summer crisis with what remains a formidable squad in danger of breaking up if things aren't sorted swiftly.

Kenyon talks of luring star names. Fine.

But if the nucleus of the squad is lost, the team could start to go backwards, even if Kaka or Messi comes in.

The names in the frame to replace Grant are well known: Guus Hiddink, Frank Rijkaard and Roberto Mancini. I hear Sven Goran Eriksson would love a chance, while Phil Scolari cannot be discounted.

But if Kenyon has a role to play at the club — and, please God it's never again to be seen on the podium with the players — then it's to get this appointment spot-on.

If he had anything about him he'd make sure Abramovich and Mourinho had settled all their differences and get the Special One back.

*******************************

TERRY'S NO BOTTLER

WHENEVER I have been in John Terry's company he has struck me not only as a great player but also as a top bloke.

In fact, Terry showed his class when, instead of just watching a few media chaps have a seven-a-side corporate kickabout, he joined in.

He played for the opposition in the first half and they went 3-0 up. He came on our side in the second and we pulled it back to 3-3. JT really got stuck in by the way.

So it went to a penalty shootout.

I scuffed mine and missed. Eventually it came down to Terry (right), back on the other side, to take the decisive kick — he tucked it away with ease.

"Phew, thank God for that," said JT. "With all you guys watching, my arse was twitching more than at the World Cup."

The moral of this story? Well, all I'd say is that anybody who accuses Terry of bottling it is talking out of their own backside

There's a thin line between glory and failure.

On this occasion, Terry slipped the wrong side of it.

But who would you want alongside you when it matters, him or Didier Drogba?

There's your answer.

************************

Forget the Scots, now

WHAT a pity the local Manchester authorities have banned an open-top bus celebration allowing United to parade the European Cup.

Police have put their foot down after the disgraceful behaviour of far too many Rangers fans, who trashed the city centre on the day of the UEFA Cup final.

There is a bright side, though. The situation surely puts to rest any notion of Rangers or Celtic playing in the Premier League or the idea of reviving an annual England v Scotland international.

************************

FA are Trin a big hole

APART from a decent tan, what on earth will Fabio Capello get out of taking England to Trinidad and Tobago?

Silly me. T&T supremo Jack Warner is a top man at FIFA and a money-spinning visit by England could help the FA win the right to stage the 2018 World Cup. Fair enough. But Warner is in dispute with his government over the cost of renting the stadium.

Why don't the FA just stump up the readies in a brown envelope? After all, this affair could hardly get any more sordid.

************************

Fans lose faith in athletics

JONATHAN EDWARDS says Dwain Chambers should disappear off the planet because he is turning British athletics into a freak show ahead of the Olympics.

I understand the sentiment.

But Chambers (right) did serve his sentence after being found to be a drug cheat. And I'm afraid he's not an exception, he just got caught.

That's the reason fewer and fewer people view track and field with any credibility.

************************

Swiss role for Finals

AFTER the hyper-expensive farce of the Champions League final being staged in Moscow, here is a thought.

Instead of hawking such matches around, why not build a spanking new 100,000-seater ‘Super Wembley' on the outskirts of Geneva to stage all future European club finals?

*************************

Decorating disaster, Neal

AN ex-pro pal of mine played with Phil Neal in a Masters tournament in Dubai not so long ago. On the flight home, Neal gave my mate his business card.

On it was inscribed ‘England's Most Decorated Player.' Ryan Giggs has now overtaken Neal in the medal stakes — but you can bet the Manchester United star won't be rushing to the printer to get his cards done!