James Lawton: Mourinho's quest for perfection exposes greatness of coach and flaws of the man

Roy Bentley's innermost thoughts were worth a lot more than a penny when he sat, as an honoured guest, amid all the wealth and the power - and, let's be fair, the remarkable achievement - at Stamford Bridge at the weekend.

Roy Bentley's innermost thoughts were worth a lot more than a penny when he sat, as an honoured guest, amid all the wealth and the power - and, let's be fair, the remarkable achievement - at Stamford Bridge at the weekend.

Chelsea's 81-year-old former England centre-forward - one of the best and hardest there ever was, it is the consensus of old pros - could have sprinkled brilliant advice throughout a dressing-room which, having kept its head so impressively all season, might now just be in danger of the odd joust with that most dangerous of items, hubris.

This could be particularly damaging when Liverpool, erratic, vulnerable but in Europe so far indomitable and now touched again by the sublime passing skill of Xabi Alonso, come visiting tomorrow night in the first leg of the Champions' League semi-final.

Though he was no doubt too courteous to say so, Bentley wouldn't have much liked the presumption of two of the greatest contributors to a remarkable season, John Terry and Frank Lampard, running to the corners of the ground in premature celebration of the Premiership title that Arsenal had the power to delay last night against Spurs.

However, his best advice would have surely been reserved for the modest player but astonishingly original and driven coach, Jose Mourinho. He would have said to him that victory in football is a great thing, but always there is a need not to run away with yourself, not to believe that somehow you have unlocked a secret that will always be beyond the knowledge of any rival.

Why can we be so sure of Bentley's instinct? It is something that happened many years ago, when Bentley, having lost the fine edge which made him such a formidable front player - "he was as hard as bloody nails," vouched one contemporary - had moved down the Fulham Road to Craven Cottage and was playing variously at wing-half and centre-half.

Fulham were playing in Bristol in a Second Division game against City. One of the team's brightest young players, the teenage George Cohen who is of course one of only 10 Englishmen alive to have won a World Cup, was startled by a knock on the door of his hotel room at 7am. He was even more astonished to see the icon Bentley fully dressed and plainly with some important business in mind. "Get some clothes on, son," he said. "I want to show you something."

He then led the boy on to the early morning streets of Bristol. "What's this about, Roy?" Cohen asked with some urgency, but respectfully. "Wait and see," said the veteran who had already regaled the youngster with stories of the war-time Royal Navy. Eventually, they came to the Clifton Suspension bridge, one of the great glories of British engineering. Recalls Cohen, "It was an awe-inspiring sight in the empty dawn. It seemed to be swaying just a little in the wind."

Bentley told him, "I thought you should see this because you're a young a lad making your way in football and I think you're going to enjoy a lot of success. But there are going to be some hard times, people are going to get at you, and I thought if you just saw this bridge, and considered what a man can achieve if he sets his mind to it, it might help put some of the pressures of football into some kind of perspective."

A few weeks earlier Bentley had given Cohen some other advice he would not forget on his way to that historic day at Wembley in 1966. "George," said Bentley, "it's brilliant the way you go forward, I love it, but you don't always have to operate at that speed once you've gone clear of your marker. The skill factor tends to dwindle the faster you go, so slow down a little at the vital moments and do a little more work on your accuracy."

One piece of advice was eternal, the other ultimately practical. The point? Maybe only that Mourinho, with the football world at his feet, has probably never needed so much the help of a guiding hand. Not to tell him how to organise and motivate footballers, of course. Those who sneer at Chelsea's achievements because of the wealth of their patron Roman Abramovich are guilty of extreme football ignorance if in the process they belittle the work of the coach.

Yes, his behaviour in and around the Barcelona Champions' League game was without conscience or, from the long term perspective, without judgement, and Chelsea's chairman, Bruce Buck, is spinning his wheels if he thinks that a few blustering words are going to close the book on the hounding of the Swedish referee Anders Frisk and the subsequent admission that a whopping lie was told.

However, none of that disqualifies the praise due to Mourinho for his marvellous whipping in of the talent of such as the richly deserving Players' Player of the Year John Terry, Frank Lampard, Arjen Robben, Damien Duff, Ricardo Carvalho, Joe Cole and Eidur Gudjohnsen. You name almost every Chelsea player and in him you see the value of Mourinho's work.

But then this isn't the coach's only duty, and time will tell if he is a big enough man to examine himself for the serious faults that have surfaced amid all the brilliance.

The general self-obsession, at the weekend the tedious listing of problems for Chelsea created by match scheduling, difficulties that had been overcome on the field by a splendid 3-1 victory over a spirited Fulham, the unnecessary provocation of disappointed rival fans, are all traits of behaviour which need to be expunged - and might just benefit from the wisdom of a Roy Bentley.

When he was in mid-thirties, and playing in defence for Fulham, Bentley was told by the England manager, Walter Winterbottom, "you're the best centre-half in the country, but I'm afraid you're too old to be selected."

The old player shrugged and smiled. He knew the realities of football and the bigger world beyond the touchline. What could he tell Mourinho most valuably? Perhaps that his work was great, but he should remember he never built a bridge, he never made a young man's heart almost stop on a dawn he would never forget.