Chelsea’s Real Crisis: Maresca Is Just the Fall Guy in a Billionaire Power Struggle

 

After Chelsea’s 2–0 home win over Everton, Enzo Maresca unexpectedly approached reporters and admitted that the past 48 hours had been the lowest point of his life, saying he felt unsupported—not by the fans, but clearly by the club itself. The reason is obvious: Chelsea had gone four matches without a win, slipping from briefly topping the league to fifth place, dropping out of the Champions League top eight, and repeatedly dropping points to weaker sides.

Objectively speaking, Chelsea’s recent form isn’t disastrous. The Premier League table is extremely tight, with only around five points separating the upper half. Even after losing to Atalanta, Chelsea were not in danger of falling into the playoff round. The real issue is that after a dominant 3–0 win over Barcelona and a high‑intensity battle with Arsenal, the squad was heavily drained.

Casadei’s three‑match suspension has had a huge impact. Without his defensive interceptions and transitional support, the entire team became disconnected. Enzo Fernández, stronger in attack than defense, was forced to cover both ends, while the back line suffered from the lack of Casadei’s protection and recovery runs. Historically, Chelsea’s win rate drops to around 25% whenever Casadei is absent.

As for Maresca’s post‑match comments, they stem from reports that the club had already contacted Crystal Palace’s manager as a potential replacement due to the recent run of dropped points. Had Chelsea failed to win this match, his fate might have been sealed. In the Premier League, results rule everything; managerial turnover is routine. The eras of Ferguson and Wenger—decades at one club—are long gone, and Chelsea were the pioneers of frequent managerial changes.

This victory was largely thanks to Gusto’s outstanding performance. His assist and goal helped Palmer break the deadlock, and he scored one himself. When he first joined, he had little besides pace and stamina—he even learned how to shoot only after arriving at Chelsea. Under Maresca, he has become one of the squad’s most improved players.

Last season, Chelsea also collapsed during the Christmas period, falling from first place and nearly missing out on Champions League qualification. Fortunately, the team surged again in February, winning the Europa Conference League and the revamped Club World Cup, ending the season on a high. But this success came at a cost: the team played an extra month of high‑intensity matches, leaving players with less than two weeks of rest before the new season. Fatigue carried over, and performances suffered until recently. After another run of tough fixtures, inconsistency has returned.

With the Christmas period approaching, poor results could cost Maresca his job. His coaching ability remains controversial. He is a good coach, but not an elite one. Given the current situation, winning the Premier League under him is extremely unlikely. Historically, every Premier League champion has been led by a top‑tier manager. Maresca’s résumé—promotion with Leicester and two cups last season—is respectable but not extraordinary. His biggest credential is being Guardiola’s former assistant.

His tactics, substitutions, and rotation strategy have been repeatedly criticized. Even Manchester City have largely abandoned pure possession football, shifting toward faster transitions, aggressive pressing, and relying on Haaland’s individual power—reducing the self‑inflicted fatigue caused by excessive passing. Maresca may be a disciple of Guardiola, but the system he learned is no longer the one City themselves use.

His rotation decisions are often hesitant and counterproductive. He benches key players, loses the match, then brings them back in—meaning nobody gets proper rest. The correct approach is to start the strongest XI, secure the lead, then rotate. Many dropped points this season have come from rigid, ill‑timed rotation.

Fatigue is relative; every club faces it. Chelsea, with one of the deepest and youngest squads in the league, should be able to handle it. Maresca’s tactical ideas shine in cup competitions, but he struggles in the league. Mid‑table teams approach Chelsea with confidence: defend deep, counterattack, and wait for one or two chances. The formula for winning the Premier League is simple: “Beat the weak, draw the strong.” Maresca’s Chelsea do the opposite, and naturally fall out of the title race. Chelsea’s board will not tolerate a long‑term title drought.

The deeper issue is the internal power struggle between the American‑owned Clearlake Group and the Saudi‑linked investors, who have even taken their disputes to court. Chelsea sold off their entire Champions League‑winning squad, cleared out the coaching staff, and spent heavily on a youth‑based rebuild. The squad now lacks experienced leaders and genuine stars, yet the club still expects top‑level results. Most new signings are young players from Brighton and Manchester City, effectively turning Chelsea into “City B” and “Brighton B.” A team built this way cannot return to the top quickly. At best, they can win a few cup competitions to appease fans.

The real reason is internal politics. As long as the squad is youth‑focused, Clearlake can justify long‑term control under the banner of “building for the future.” This explains why the club refuses to buy elite strikers or defenders, instead stockpiling wingers. The owner, Boehly, has no intention of winning the league immediately. The Saudi‑linked investors, meanwhile, benefit from poor results—they can then demand a restructuring of ownership. Palmer’s mysterious two‑month absence due to an “abdominal/groin issue,” during which he vacationed in the UAE, fits this narrative: without him, Chelsea’s strength drops by half, and poor results help the Saudi group’s agenda.

During the sale, the Saudi group could easily have bought Chelsea outright, but the Premier League wanted to avoid excessive Middle Eastern ownership. Politically, Saudi Arabia is not a democracy, and with Manchester City already dominating under Middle Eastern ownership, the league feared becoming too “continental.” With the Russia‑Ukraine war unfolding, Chelsea—seen as having Russian ties—needed a politically safe buyer, making the American group the preferred option. Clearlake, inexperienced in football, was brought in, leading to a series of chaotic decisions, including the infamous incident where Boehly argued with fans.

In reality, much of the transfer funding, sponsorship deals, and major financial backing come from the Middle Eastern investors. As long as results decline, fan pressure and media narratives will favor the Saudi group. Clearlake still holds the upper hand but lacks unlimited resources. Recent transfers have been financially neutral: outgoing sales count as revenue, while incoming signings are amortized over long contracts. Wages remain low, with Sterling—the highest earner—forced out. Clearlake’s “big spending” is largely financial engineering. Their goal is to develop young players, sell them for profit, and maintain financial balance.

Thus, Chelsea’s current identity is clear: secure top four, qualify for the Champions League, win a cup or two, and remain a strong Premier League side—without actually winning the league.