"The third season is fatal."

Jose Mourinho did not say that. Béla Guttmann did.

Careful to avoid complications wrought by overstaying his welcome, the Hungarian football pioneer Guttmann changed clubs a total of 25 times during his coaching career, which spanned from 1933 to 1973.

Given the transient nature of his tenures, and the volatility they often brought (he was once sacked by AC Milan despite being in first place at the time), Guttmann’s presence at a club had the tendency to overshadow the club itself. Porto, Benfica, and AC Milan were all forcibly chiseled into Guttmann FC, but Guttmann FC had a shelf life that didn’t extend beyond two seasons.

[Guttmann's] theory was that after two seasons a coach had said everything he had to say, that the style of play would become predictable, that players would no longer be motivated by the familiar calls to arms, that complacency and decline would inevitably set in. That's the entropic imperative against which all coaches must constantly fight; only a very few — such as Sir Alex Ferguson — succeed. -Jonathan Wilson: "The devil and José Mourinho"

There was a lot of talk concerning third seasons at Chelsea last year. Like Guttmann before him, Mourinho’s magic seems to lose its potency after two seasons with a club. Also like Guttmann before him, Mourinho’s personality tends to overwhelm everything that comes in its path.

Mourinho quite famously proclaimed himself to be ‘a special one’ at his first press conference as Chelsea manager in 2004. The self-belief contained in that proclamation should have been laughable. It kind of was laughable. And then it wasn’t. Mourinho and Chelsea stormed to a still-record 95 points and the Premier League title in the 2004-05 season. Chelsea supporters weary of Gary Cahill’s exploits will stare longingly at the comically stingy 15 league goals the Blues conceded during the entirety of the campaign. Another title followed the next season. ‘Special’ seemed like an understatement.

Managerial wizardry was only part of Mourinho’s appeal. His sound bites were littered with humor and wit that likely left the writers tasked with writing about Chelsea envious. References were made to Bird Flu and Portuguese wine, and when Mourinho complained of slights (real or perceived) against Chelsea, he usually did so far more cleverly than the average manager.

Chelsea’s dominance and Mourinho’s charisma coalesced wonderfully. Chelsea weren’t just champions; they had identity and they had style, and much of this identity and style was the result of Mourinho’s magnetism.

Aside from the anomaly of Blackburn winning in 1995, either Sir Alex Ferguson’s Manchester United or Arsene Wenger’s Arsenal won every title from the Premier League’s inception in 1992 to Chelsea winning in 2005. Mourinho and Chelsea were punk rock. They were insurgents challenging the established order. Mourinho made sure Chelsea had a swagger befitting of this dynamic. It was the Cult of Mourinho. Players bought into it, supporters bought into it, and the media eagerly bought into it. It was, however, a difficult thing to maintain.

The Cult of Mourinho has now arrived at and departed from Stamford Bridge twice. Both of these departures were preceded by the cracking of the indestructible identity forged through brilliant performances and snarky press conferences. If your identity is built on being indestructible, a slight crack can become a deep chasm quickly.

Mourinho declared himself ‘the happy one’ when he returned to Chelsea in 2013. It was certainly a more modest statement than what was said the first time around. After a tumultuous conclusion to his time at Real Madrid where he failed to deliver that club’s much coveted 10th European title, there was some speculation Mourinho would return to West London more humble and less cantankerous.

It didn’t take long for that speculation to be proven incorrect. There was Wenger being called a ‘specialist in failure,’ and Mourinho lashing out at an alleged ‘campaign’ against Chelsea amongst other controversies. Insults and conspiracies, it was Mourinho being Mourinho. The league title won in 2015 was also Mourinho being Mourinho. The winning is essential. Without the winning, the boasts are empty and the conspiracy-talk more paranoid than defiant.

In each of Mourinho’s two third seasons with Chelsea the winning decreased. It decreased far more dramatically in his second third season, but on both occasions Mourinho was where attention was focused when Chelsea’s form dipped.

His complaints towards the ambulance staff at the Madejski Stadium for their response to Petr Cech’s horrifying head injury in October 2006 were seen by some as Mourinho taking his ‘siege mentality’ too far. Last season, Mourinho’s rant against Chelsea’s own medical staff seemed to precipitate the club’s fall from champions to mid-table also-rans. When Mourinho’s words aren’t inspiring his players, they appear to have a tiring effect.

Despite all the controversy he generates, Mourinho is a great manager. He arrives at a club with an attitude and charm that’s infectious. It’s so infectious that everything that takes place at a club during his time there is filtered through the prism of his personality. It inspires devotion and derision, but it’s important to remember that the club still exists beyond him. Mourinho is a part of Chelsea’s history, but he is not Chelsea’s entire history. Chelsea FC has existed for over 100 years. Mourinho’s tenures have struggled to last more than three.