Andrew Fifield On The Premiership: Andriy Shevchenko does not have to try hard to be cool. In the summer, he travelled to a humdrum PR event on the banks of the Thames on a speedboat. If Jose Mourinho did not insist on his Chelsea players being tee-total, he would doubtless have disembarked sipping a dry Martini - the Man with the Golden Boot.
Yet nothing strips away style faster than failure. Shevchenko's form since his jaw-dropping €45 million move from Milan has been more akin to MI55 than MI6, so his decidedly uncool reaction to ending his goal drought against Portsmouth on Saturday - burying himself head first in the Matthew Harding Stand - was understandable. Only Michael Ballack's response to notching his first Premiership goal seconds later came close to matching it all weekend.
There have been whispers - occasionally voiced by Chelsea's own supporters - that the players' enthusiasm in hopping over the English channel was sparked by the desire for one last lucrative pay-day rather than to taste the fiery flavours of the Premiership.
This, of course, is nonsense. Ballack and Shevchenko were hardly earning a pittance at Bayern Munich or Milan and it is an insult to their highly-developed competitive instincts to suggest they would be happy simply whiling away the hours until retirement.
Besides, for all their glittering reputations, both men still have points to prove. Shevchenko has been hailed as one of the world's leading forwards ever since he first exploded to prominence at Dynamo Kiev, and yet his own list of honours is surprisingly meagre. Seven years at the San Siro yielded just one Serie A title and one Champions League crown, both in 2004. It is reasonable to assume, therefore, that he has come to Stamford Bridge to sate his appetite for silverware, rather than Roman Abramovich's gold.
For Ballack, the need to justify his exorbitant €135,000-a-week wages is even more urgent. There will always be question marks surrounding the true talents of a footballer who refuses to budge from the familiar fields of home - it is one of the reasons English players, notoriously attached to their creature comforts, are still relatively unappreciated abroad - and Ballack must now prove he can dominate the Premiership, as well as the Bundesliga.
Adapting was never likely to be easy. Chelsea's success may be a decidedly capitalist creation, funded by the asset-stripping of Russia's previously state-owned oil industry, but Mourinho's managerial ethos is more akin to the Soviet Union's old Cominterns.
On the chic streets of west London, the needs of the individual are suppressed in favour of the collective. Nothing wrong in that, but for renowned virtuosos such as Ballack and Shevchenko, who are accustomed to having great teams built around them, the transition is taxing. They are adapting not just to a new climate and culture, but to an entirely new footballing philosophy.
And that is not all. Neither Ballack or Shevchenko has been helped by the fact they were bought to embellish an already gilded squad, rather than to fill a specific gap. Indeed, both have been overshadowed by players well versed in Mourinho's all-for-one manifesto, Frank Lampard - the Premiership's prototype attacking midfielder, just as Ballack was in Germany - and Didier Drogba.
The Ivory Coast international has undergone such a spectacular renaissance that it is he, and not the stuttering Shevchenko, who has become indispensable. Drogba's spectacular winner against Barcelona last Wednesday provided a snapshot of his unique talents. His attempt to control Ashley Cole's pass was wretched, but super-human strength and sheer bloody-mindedness enabled him to fend off Carles Puyol and slam in from 18 yards.
Nobody does the sublime ugly quite like Drogba, but few at Stamford Bridge are complaining. He is now touching the prolific heights he scaled at Marseille, eclipsing Shevchenko in the process.
Yet the Ukrainian is partly responsible for Drogba's remarkable transformation from misfit to maestro. The latter laboured wearily as a lone striker for much of last season and his protestations that he could only reach his best form when played alongside a strike partner have been vindicated by his pairing with Shevchenko.
The new boy's reputation precedes him when he steps on to the field, and the extra attention he is afforded by fearful defenders has created more space for Drogba to wreak havoc. For much of this season, he has been a goalscorer by association.
That will never be enough for a forward of his calibre, of course, but it is proof Shevchenko is already appreciating the importance of the team ethic at Chelsea. If he can marry this new-found unselfishness to his old predatory instincts, the Premiership has every right to be fearful.
