The Chelsea manager gambled but both his starting XI and his substitutions paid off in a display that had his imprint stamped all over it

With 15 minutes gone on a fun, balmy, febrile afternoon at Wembley, Antonio Conte could be seen cavorting on the touchline in his sombre suit like an old-time revivalist preacher working the crowd at the village hall, arms windmilling, fists pumping, shiny shoes pounding the turf.

High above his head an aeroplane appeared, trailing a message across the sky. The message was: “Antonio Conte!” Hallelujah! And indeed, praise be.

Chelsea were 1-0 up at the time, the goal made and scored by three players drafted into the starting XI to general pre-match jaw-drop. Shortly afterwards Conte appeared in suddenly full brooding tactical-werewolf close-up on the mini TV screens of the press box, a man filling the skies, bending this day to his will, having the time of his life out there.

Easy job, managing a football team. Or at least it is when the pieces fall like this, when every wrench of the dial seems to come good. It will no doubt be tempting to portray Chelsea’s defeat of Tottenham as a tactical masterclass, so profound was Conte’s part in the key movements. It wasn’t one, though. This was instead a gloriously hunchy victory, a triumph of competitive will, momentum, luck and Conte’s own very distinct and forceful will to power.

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Chelsea scored four goals from five shots. Nemanja Matic, who was muscled to the fringes at times by Victor Wanyama and Mousa Dembélé, still managed to spank a wonder-goal into the top corner. Michy Batshuayi, who completed nine passes in his hour on the pitch, made the opener with a dream of a back flick. Tottenham dominated possession and looked the more fluent team, but somehow still did not ever look like winning.

Conte had made drastic changes to his team. Out went Diego Costa and Eden Hazard, source of 48% of Chelsea’s league goals this season. In came Batshuayi, still to start a game or score a goal in the league, Nathan Aké in defence and Willian on the wing.

Costa was less of a head-scratcher. Chelsea’s chief goalscorer has been sub-par in recent weeks. Hazard was more puzzling given his light workload and fine recent form. Conte is a bold, assertive coach, for whom the system and the collective are everything. But now, here, at this late stage?

Ask a silly question. It took four minutes for near-instant vindication. Aké’s first significant touch was excellent, a thumping challenge on Harry Kane to take the ball away. Moments later Batshuayi produced that sublime little flick with the inside of his heel to set Pedro in on goal.

Pedro hared away, legs pumping like a cartoon mouse skittering along the skirting board, only to be clanged over the head with a frying pan by Toby Alderweireld on the edge of the box as he cut across to work an angle. The free-kick was sent skimming around the wall and into the far corner by Willian, a sweet contact that beat Hugo Lloris on his side of the goal.

The Chelsea half of Wembley sent a great barrelling bark of noise around the ground, before settling finally on the familiar chants of Antonio, Antonio, the man who knows. It was, of course, too good to last.

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By half-time Chelsea were 2-1 up but Spurs had begun to run them down in midfield. The equaliser came from Kane, a lovely stooping header into the far corner. Chelsea hit back from the penalty spot, Victor Moses finding an overlap on the right that allowed him to swerve inside and tumble over the very obligingly offered leg of Son Heung-min.

Confusingly for those who imagine TV replays will solve the need to argue about grey areas, it was both a dive and a foul. Moses was already falling by the time Son got to him. Son made a poor tackle that was gratefully accepted. Perhaps the real issue was the fact Son was playing wing-back in the first place. Willian spanked the kick home.

Still Spurs pressed hardest, Dele Alli scoring a second equaliser from Christian Eriksen’s wonderful pass. No matter, though. Time for Antonio’s Trip to Wembley Part Two. With an hour gone Batshuayi and Willian were replaced by the headline absences Hazard and Costa. And it was Hazard who turned the game, producing the decisive goal pretty much from a standing start.

Kyle Walker failed to clear a corner. Hazard took three quick touches and whipped a stunning low shot past Lloris. Before long Matic had smashed in the fourth to spark a strange kind of bedlam, part FA Cup semi-final joy and part relief, the sense of grand game of lawn chess falling decisively one way.

At the final whistle Conte appeared on the pitch, wandering around waving his arms and looking a little overcome by it all. And really what a day this was for Chelsea’s manager, a match his team perhaps should not have won, but somehow never looked like losing; where every nudge of the pieces seemed to come off; and where that oddly frenzied, exhausting, unignorable figure in the suit and the shiny shoes remained a tangible presence throughout.