JOSE Mourinho allowed himself the briefest of fist pumps, then calmly turned and retreated to his bench.

He had just witnessed brilliance, but perhaps that was what he always expected from this Chelsea team.

In an instant the visitors had put this game beyond Burnley, despite the Clarets’ impressive start.

Oscar to Ivanovic, Ivanovic to Fabregas, Fabregas to Schurrle, goal.

The speed with which the move was carried out was something to behold. Just too good.

Schurrle’s last competitive game had been when he won the World Cup final at the Maracana.

He was no less effective in the Turf Moor rain. This was not a night when Mourinho was particularly animated.

There was no charge down the touchline or finger-pointing dash across the pitch.

Just a calm knowledge that the team he has expensively assembled could be something really special.

Defeat was no disgrace for Burnley.

Chelsea fans chanted Mourinho’s name before kick-off, only to be drowned out by home supporters chanting ‘Ginger Mourinho’ in honour of their own boss Sean Dyche.

The pair embraced warmly pitchside.

There was applause from the home crowd for returning former Claret Gary Cahill, and a deafening roar to greet the announcement of each and every one of the Burnley line-up.

Fans in the Jimmy McIlroy Stand displayed cards spelling out the message ‘Our Turf, BFC’.

Mourinho – smartly dressed as ever in a dark grey coat – stood stunned as his £200m team went behind to Scott Arfield’s vicious volley.

He was somewhat relieved when Diego Costa levelled just two minutes later, allowing himself to briefly punch the air.

There was little more than quiet approval when Schurrle added the sumptuous second, before Ivanovic made it 3-1.

Clarets fans made their support clear at half time, applauding their team off.

They were still proud. So proud.

There were cheers to greet the vanishing spray early in the second half, as it was used for the first time at Turf Moor.

The noise started to come from the visiting fans late on, buoyed by the return of Didier Drogba from the bench. ‘Jose Mourinho!’ the Chelsea supporters sung.

The Ginger Mourinho, working with a fraction of the budget at Turf Moor, had been defeated.

The celebrations may not have been grandiose, but the Special One headed for the M65 a contented man.