John Terry proves again he is the man for the biggest occasion, says Oliver Holt

By Oliver Holt in Mirror Football Blog

Published 23:00 08/11/09

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The fates threw everything they could at John Terry yesterday. They spared him nothing.

They handed him mental and physical anguish and then they waited to see if he would break.

On the morning of his biggest game of the season, he read headlines that accused his father of selling cocaine to an undercover reporter.

In the afternoon, the main burden of repelling a Manchester United team intent on replacing Chelsea at the top of the table fell to him.

The United fans reminded him, as they always do, that it was his missed penalty kick against them in Moscow in 2008 that had cost Chelsea victory in the Champions League final.

And just to add one fiendish twist to his task, his team-mate Ashley Cole contrived to head butt him where it hurts so hard that even an iron man like Terry collapsed to the floor in agony.

But Terry got up again. Just like he always gets up again.

It would have been the easiest thing in the world for him to buckle under the pressure and the public gaze yesterday.

It would have been easy for him to lose his cool, to lash out, to take his frustration out on one of his opponents when things got heated.

But Terry did not yield to that temptation either. He was utterly unflappable, the epitome of calm as the storm raged around him.

His entire history is about overcoming adversity, ignoring slurs on his character and rising and rising from a tough upbringing. Others would have lost their way. Terry has not. He is the captain of his club and his country.

Technically, maybe Chelsea’s winner at Stamford Bridge should have been credited to Nicolas Anelka because he got the last touch.

But emotionally, it belonged to JT. For his indomitability, his leadership and his mental strength. His refusal to allow anything to get in the way of doing his best for his team.

It was typical of him that he should score yesterday. That he should leap the highest off the ground to meet Frank Lampard’s 77th minute free kick on a day when most people had expected him to be on the floor.

When Carlo Ancelotti was asked afterwards whether the goal belonged to Terry or Anelka, he chose his captain because he recognised how much he deserved it.

On a day when United had been marginally the better side, Terry was magnificent at the heart of the Chelsea defence.

Wayne Rooney was superb in attack and worked and worked and worked to create an opening. But Terry never gave him one.

Sure, Rooney fired one long shot wide and forced a fine save out of Petr Cech with another curling effort from the edge of the box.

But in the real danger areas, Terry kept the Premier League’s best forward quiet and forced him to come deeper and deeper in search of the ball.

He was dominant in the air, as he always is. The few decent crosses that United swung into the box were met by the Chelsea captain’s head. Every hopeful United ball forward was thudded away with one of his leaps.

It always seemed as if the match would be decided by one goal and it was Terry who made sure it wasn’t his team that conceded it.

And at the end, when Chelsea had gone five points clear at the top of the table and United’s players had bolted for the away dressing room with faces like thunder, Terry made sure he enjoyed the adulation that cascaded down from the stands.

He walked off the pitch alone, a big grin plastered across his face, and as he neared the tunnel, he gazed towards the Upper Tier of the East Stand where his family was sitting.

He broke his stride for a minute, cupped his hands underneath his lips and blew them a kiss.

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