WE at Off Centre Towers like our football to have a continental flavour, so it was particularly satisfying to watch the late, late dashing of Chelsea's Champions League dream by Barcelona earlier this week.

All the more so in retrospect, because of the appalling antics of boorish, mardy-pants Didier Drogba after the final whistle.

This was a high stakes match and emotions run amok, even among players who should be rather better equipped than the rest of us to deal with such situations.

There were a number of dubious refereeing decisions which disadvantaged Chelsea too, not least a couple of pretty obvious penalty calls.

But Drogba, whose emotional stability is so fragile he should be made to wear a bib bearing the legend Sulk At Work during matches, unleashed such an embarrassingly impressive repertoire of expletives, finger-pointing, head shaking, arm flailing and other assorted aggression at the referee in the immediate aftermath of the game, the yellow card he received for his pains and should have been upgraded to red.

Any sympathy for Chelsea's last ditch failure to hold at bay their Catalan opponents should have vanished instantly on viewing this performance from Drogba.

It is true Barcelona's goal came from their only real attack of worth, and they were some way short of their breathtaking best.

But these things happen.

Compare the misfortune that befell Manchester United's Darren Fletcher in the previous evening's Champions League semi-final against Arsenal.

The unfortunate Fletcher was adjudged by the referee to have upended Arsenal's Cesc Fabregas in the penalty area, preventing a goalscoring opportunity.

He was sent off, despite having actually won the ball and committed no such foul.

Such are the ridiculous rules governing the Champions League that there is no process of appeal, so Fletcher will miss the final based on the referee's mistake in punishing him for a foul he did not commit.

And what did Fletcher do in his moment of despair, for that is what it must have been?

He walked off. No histrionics, no verbal abuse of the official.

Off he strode, disbelief and disappointment visibly etching themselves into his features as he went.

Even though he plays for a club as eminent as Manchester United, there is no guarantee that Fletcher will ever again get the opportunity to grace such a big occasion as a Champions League final.

His reaction to his misfortune was as dignified as football gets these days and he is to be applauded for the way he behaved on a very public stage.

What a pity his example could not be followed 24 hours later by Drogba and, to a lesser extent, by some of his understandably disappointed colleagues.

Chelsea is a club easy to deride as one that has bought success on the back of a Russian oligarch's millions.

Whatever the degree of truth in that accusation, one thing is for sure - money can buy you moaners, but it can't buy you manners.