Champions League: Chelsea have learned to walk on through the storm. By Oliver Holt

Someone who didn't know better sat in Tommy Smith's seat in the press box last night.

The old Anfield Iron, one of the game's great hard men, gave him a tap on the shoulder.

As his victim began the search for a new place, the strains of You'll Never Walk Alone began to fill the stadium.

Any football fan with a heart and a feel for the game can't help but wear a stupid grin when they look around Anfield, hear that music and see the bank of scarves raised aloft.

In the Kop, a giant likeness of Bob Paisley, the manager who led Liverpool to three European Cup victories, loomed large behind the goal, next to a banner in tribute to Kenny Dalglish.

History itself seemed to be pulling Liverpool back to Rome where the Champions League final will take place next month and where Liverpool won two of their five European Cups.

The Chelsea players stood in the tunnel as all this unfolded.

They had walked beneath the "This is Anfield" sign on the wall above the stairs down from the changing rooms.

They knew that Anfield on nights like this is as intimidating a place as any in football, a journey into the beating heart of a city as well as a club.

Five years ago, when Chelsea paid their first Champions League visit here for the second leg of a semi-final, their legs turned to jelly.

The record books say they lost to what Jose Mourinho still insists was a ghost goal from Luis Garcia. But the reality was that they lost to Bill Shankly's old heroes in the Kop. They were beaten before they came out.

The atmosphere was the same last night. But something else has changed - Chelsea have learned to live with it. Maybe it was John Arne Riise's own goal last year that broke the spell and made Chelsea believe they could withstand whatever Liverpool and their crowd threw at them on nights like this.

Maybe it was just the accumulated experience of being forced to endure this cauldron of a ground so often.

Maybe it was just that they felt liberated by no longer being considered overwhelming favourites to win.

In previous years, Liverpool victories have been greeted almost as sorcery, so sure were most neutrals that Chelsea in the Mourinho era would emerge as winners.

But Liverpool beat Chelsea home and away in the Premier League this season and so, if anything, Rafa Benitez's team were favourites.

There is another thing too.

Chelsea have been driven this season by a burning desire to make up for the pain of their penalty shoot-out defeat to Manchester United in last season's Champions League final.

Men like captain John Terry and Didier Drogba, sent off for a churlish slap in Moscow, have been gripped by the search for redemption.

Terry, who missed a crucial kick in the shoot-out, spoke about the desire the team harbours to make amends.

Terry is a brave man but you could see the manic determination when he flung himself into a challenge with Pepe Reina after an hour.

That challenge was always going to hurt but it was a gesture of defiance from Terry.

When he was berated by Steven Gerrard afterwards, Terry gave him a verbal blast back.

Seconds later, Branislav Ivanovic scored Chelsea's second goal.

Chelsea had done the hard work by then. They had suffered what could have been a crushing early setback and fought back.

They did not panic when Fernando Torres put Liverpool ahead in the sixth minute.

They did not become dispirited when Drogba missed two clear chances. They did not let Liverpool's intensity break them.

And when Ivanovic scored his first goal, also direct from a corner, Chelsea knew they had weathered the storm.

They knew they had survived the worst Liverpool could throw at them. From then on, the force of nature that is the Anfield crowd was quietened and so was their team.

The home supporters grew restless, berating the referee. Their team began to fall apart.

Drogba should have put Chelsea ahead five minutes after the break but Jamie Carragher made a brilliant goal-line clearance.

It was just a stay of execution. Ivanovic scored his second and when Drogba scored a brilliant third midway through the half, the game, and probably the tie, was over.

Anfield was muted. The destruction of Real Madrid in the last round seemed suddenly devalued.

In the hush, the Chelsea fans in the corner finally made themselves heard.

"F*** your history," they sang. "We're going to Rome."

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