They call it ‘the magic of the Carabao’ and they’re not wrong. It’s that classic Carabao combo, isn’t it? Tiny ages and giant shirt numbers. And when they’re Academy products and they’re creating chances and scoring seven goals and generally barrelling around like they own the place, who doesn't love to see it?With the commitment to hard facts which regular visitors will know is the driving feature of this column, I’ve run the figures from Wednesday night’s goal-popping obliteration of Grimsby through the calculator. And after the two substitutions in the second half, which saw the introduction of Tino Anjorin (age 17, shirt number 55) and Ian Maatsen (age 17, shirt number 63), and which brought to six the number of home-reared players on the pitch, the average age of Chelsea’s 10 outfield players was just 20.3. Yes, 20.3! And the average shirt number rocketed all the way to 32.1. Yes, 32.1! Both of these are hugely encouraging figures.

Callum Hudson-Odoi returning and scoring, Reece James looking so strong and scoring, Billy Gilmour patrolling the midfield… The only mild frown induced by a defiantly mature and deeply entertaining performance all-round was the concession of Grimsby’s goal. To be fair, though, it came from a goalkeeper taking a long, high punt upfield, and how often do any of our players see one of those these days? How often do any of us around these parts, in fact?And yes, the immediate outcome was disappointing, but I almost felt fond of that kick, in a funny kind of way – the ball dropping out of the sky with icicles on it on the edge of our penalty area. It was a bit like coming across a traction engine at a Bank Holiday fair: you’re grateful that you no longer have to rely on them, but it can’t help but warm the heart to see one every now and again and be reminded of how things were in olden times.

And next up, in the fourth round, a home tie against Manchester United, who, while our youngsters were competently stirring up a goal avalanche against Grimsby, dug deep to scrape past mighty Rochdale in a penalty shoot-out. Can’t wait.Needless to say, this has been a proud week for those of us who were born and raised in the town of Colchester in Essex, where a floundering Tottenham found themselves graphically humiliated on Tuesday night. Indeed, arguably, not since Colchester United beat the Leeds of Norman Hunter and Jack Charlton in February 1971 has this humble conurbation found itself at the centre of such a wave of national affection.A friend of mine who supports Arsenal emailed me first thing on Wednesday to ask how one ‘comes from Colchester,’ to wonder whether this was something that anyone could do, and to enquire whether it was possible to apply online. I said I wasn’t entirely sure whether Colchester was still accepting applications at this stage, or whether the system had been overwhelmed by the sudden interest, but I did think it was worth investigating. And that advice holds.Our team’s imperious display on Wednesday drew energy, I’m sure, from last Sunday’s superb moral victory over Liverpool – a privilege to witness, as evidenced by the tumultuous applause at the end. Of course, you don’t get points for moral victories, sadly, though in the age of readjustment by VAR it’s not such a stretch to imagine a time quite soon when a panel of officials in a cupboard somewhere can examine footage of the game in more or less real time, draw some coloured lines across it and declare, ‘Yep – better team. Give them a couple, at least.’And while we’re on the subject of video referral, once again, as in the Super Cup game against the same opponents, the match on Sunday was notable for what I suppose we have to call a ‘VAR controversy’, although only in the clear understanding that the term ‘VAR controversy’ is now simply shorthand for any use of VAR to demonstrate that a goal shouldn’t have stood under the terms of VAR.VAR was always going to divide people – by which I mean it was always going to divide people individually, depending which way the calls were going. For instance (to pluck something out of the air at random), when VAR is ruling out a goal for Tottenham at Leicester on margins so tiny that insects on the ground at the time would struggle to recognise them, it’s hard not to warm to the video referral project and rank it alongside other great breakthroughs of the post-industrial age, including sliced bread, the mobile phone and power showers.By contrast, when a bunch of tiresome screen-spotters on an industrial estate somewhere near the M4 are mirthlessly finding part of one of Mason Mount’s toes in an offside position and chalking off a deserved Chelsea equaliser against a manifestly rocky Liverpool, then one is going to feel entirely entitled to curse the day that anyone considered this a bright idea.

Of course, dispassionately, part of one of Mason Mount’s toes WAS offside and, as ridiculous as that is, and as little as it seems to have to do with football, this is what we are all currently signed up to. The truly destructive thing was how long it took for the goal to be over-turned. Wild celebrations had taken place by then, on and off the pitch, including full-scale shirt-removal by one of my neighbours, which was good to see, and the players were back in their own half and lined up for the restart. Only then was the rug pulled.The length of those deliberations was, to put it politely, unacceptable. Nobody who promoted VAR seems to have considered with any imagination what these interventions would do to the energies within a ground. VAR, on this occasion, didn’t simply over-rule a goal, it simultaneously gutted an entire stadium (apart from one far corner of it) and graphically deflated half the players on the pitch, and it was hardly surprising when, in the slightly stunned wake of all that, Liverpool were able to capitalise from their second slightly soft set-piece.It’s one thing to have a system which acts as a corrective for errors of judgement, however minuscule. But if, in the process of ruling out a goal that would otherwise have stood without anybody anywhere complaining about it, the system directly produces a vast transfer of momentum to the defending side, then the system pays out to the wronged party twice, and the system is therefore wrong.The game has installed an absurdly fine-grained decision machine. We can hardly complain when it makes absurdly fine-grained decisions. What we can righteously complain about – and should complain about until VAR is rescinded and returned to its supplier in the boxes that it came in – is the ruinous effect of VAR’s processes on the game’s timeless and essential dynamics. That’s why it’s controversial and that’s why it has to go.