Inside the world of Chelski

In any event, it did not prevent one prominent member of the Russian contingent from buying 60 of the caps in one hit. They could become the essential fashion item in Red Square.

Abramovich, the billionaire who has made it all possible, insists that he wants Chelsea run as a business so these revenue streams are important. But it will be a long time before he recovers his investment and you do wonder if he cares about that.

The £111million he has spent on new players this summer has increased the wage bill by over £30m and £80m is now needed just to keep the players happy. And that's before he pays a penny of the £1.5m-plus salary and a £3m 'golden hello' for Manchester United defector Peter Kenyon.

The facilitator is Pini Zahavi, the former Tel Aviv sportswriter who has made friends with the Russians and enemies out of just about everybody else at Chelsea. His job appears to be done for the time being. He cut a lonely figure at the Bridge on Saturday but why should he worry? He has trousered £6m in commission. For the time being he can get on with his wheeling and dealing elsewhere.

No doubt he will get another call sooner rather than later - expect to see him busy in the January sales - when Abramovich decides to complete his personal jigsaw by appointing a new manager. Send for Sven and Pini will be the chauffeur.

In the meantime it is a back-row seat in the directors' box for Zahavi, ostracised by chairman Ken Bates, snubbed by celebrity Chelsea fan David Mellor and not quite one of the inner circle who sit above the centre circle in their newly commandered Millennium Suite.

It once belonged to the club's kit manufacturers Umbro. When Abramovich recognised that it had the best view of his galaxy of stars, Umbro were politely asked to move along. They did, of course, agree. Abramovich's closed-shop coterie is from the very top of Russian politics and society. President Vladimir Putin has yet to climb aboard the private Boeing 767 for a Saturday at the Bridge but it is suggested that Tatyana Dyachenko, daughter of former President Boris Yeltsin, has seen her first Chelsea game.

The wind of change has blown quickly through Chelsea Village. Out of the door has gone Trevor Birch, the club's deposed chief executive, to make way for Kenyon, his departure cushioned by a £2.9m handshake personally sanctioned by Abramovich when the cohorts wanted to haggle downwards. It was the least he could do for the man who had spent the summer piecing together the new owner's ambitious plans, negotiating fees and fixing the salaries. His departure is a blow to morale down at the Village and was a mistake. He was a popular man.

Like many of the employees of Chelsea, however, Birch perhaps failed to grasp the fact that Abramovich has bought the sweet shop and if he wants to mix the pear drops with the caramels then he will do it, and if you don't like the mix, then too bad.

The problem is that Birch's departure has left the club in turmoil - some say rudderless. Bates remains chairman and is there to be consulted. But he doesn't interfere - he needs to be asked. He has had his money and already dispensed a large sum to worthy causes his detractors wouldn't begin to know about.

Maybe Bates would like to be consulted a little more. As far as the fans are concerned he is still Mr Chelsea and if the Russians hope to retain goodwill, there are those who suggest he should be left in his seat in the front of the directors' box until the summer of 2005, when he plans to step down anyway.

By then the personable Richard Creitzman, a son of north London in his early thirties and Abramovich's ear on the ground, will have learned the ropes. He has stepped off the terraces at Barnet to join the board and his style is good. But he is young and has to learn.

He speaks Russian, gets his leg pulled by Abramovich when he makes a slip, but is trusted.

By the time the new suite of offices on the fifth floor at Chelsea Village have been converted and furnished for the Russian task force (they had to be reminded of very English necessities like planning permission) Chelsea will be de-listed from the Stock Market.

The club will no longer be a plc but it will need some tlc. Abramovich wants success but surely he doesn't want soulless success. The club was built on teamwork and at the moment the workforce are nervous and unsure, from the manager to the waitresses.

The new owner is used to getting his own way, including having his match-day sushi delivered from swanky Mayfair restaurant Nobu. The club's loyal and very able inhouse caterers look on aghast.

Incidentals to Roman. Important to the staff.

Conventional collar and ties are out (shades of former FA chief Adam Crozier). This is a hobby. Time to relax.

But Roman may do well to remember that the bottom line is that the constituency of any club are the fans. He mustn't neglect them while he indulges his mates. If he needs gentle direction then the man to provide it is still his chairman.