Chelsea hero Costa is a unique striker, says Neil Humphreys
Brutal and brilliant, Costa saves the day for the Blues
(Gylfi Sigurdsson 59-pen, Leroy Fer 62)
(Diego Costa 18, 81)
Forget Sergio Aguero and even Zlatan Ibrahimovic, there is no other English Premier League striker quite like Diego Costa.
He's neither the most accomplished, nor the most artistic, and certainly not the most popular, but you can't take your eyes off him.
He's Darth Vader, a devilish bogeyman in a dark uniform, ready to use his tricks for good or evil.
He trotted off at full-time with a brace to earn Chelsea a 2-2 draw with Swansea this morning (Singapore time).
He also earned a yellow card for a sneaky foul and the sound of an angry Welsh mob outrageous at his blatant acts of villainy.
A target for Swansea's cynical centre backs throughout, he was pushed, kicked and bundled over at every opportunity. He didn't wilt. He reciprocated.
He didn't complain either, he got even, earning a point with a spectacular bicycle kick in the 81st minute that deflected into goal off a Swansea defender.
Costa is loved at Chelsea and loathed just about everywhere else, but he finishes for fun, a bull in a penalty box, all raised boots and elbows and clearly in the mood for mischief again.
Antonio Conte knows that the Blues remain a slightly frustrating work in progress, but at least he knows he has the finished article up front.
Chelsea lack the quality of Manchester City, the only side left now with maximum points after four games, but Costa still gives them a shot at silverware.
He snatched an honourable draw from the jaws of defeat in a barnstorming finish that, frankly, no one saw coming, thanks to Swansea manager Francesco Guidolin.
Like Conte at Euro 2016, Guidolin assumed a trio of centre backs was the solution to the problem of Chelsea's marauding midfielders.
The clumsy formation was an open invitation to Cesar Azpilicueta and Eden Hazard to double up one on side and Branislav Ivanovic and Willian the other to exploit the kind of gaps usually found in Donald Trump's sentences.
In the 18th minute, Chelsea swaggered through an open door.
Ivanovic, who often moves like an uncle playing Chinese checkers at a void deck, somehow galloped into space to swing in a vicious cross.
Swansea's defenders behaved as if dipped in itching powder, allowing the ball to reach Costa, who swept home a fine first-time strike.
The Spaniard still polarises, but he pulverises defences, leaving Swans supporters baying for his blood: just another day at the office for the pantomime villain.
By then, Guidolin had already rectified his comically inept tactical gamble.
He removed a furious Neil Taylor and rejigged the Welsh side into something vaguely resembling a 4-3-3.
At the other end, Thibaut Courtois had not featured, out of camera sight, out of mind. There was nothing to fear from a Swansea rush, which made his rush of blood all the more inexplicable.
A long hopeful ball to Gylfi Sigurdsson was running away from him in the 59th minute, when Courtois dashed from his goal and scythed through the midfielder like scissors through damp paper.
Sigurdsson crumpled. Courtois blundered. The pair faced off again from the penalty spot. Sigurdsson prevailed.
Three minutes later, Conte was holding his head in his hands, turning his back on the nightmare unfolding before him as Chelsea imploded.
John Terry squared a simple pass to Gary Cahill, who dithered like a kid in a candy store with a dollar to spend, and Leroy Fer picked the defender's pocket.
Fer slipped his shot through Courtois' legs and the previously wilting Welsh turned the Liberty Stadium into a wall of noise.
In three minutes, the Swans had doubled their goal tally for the entire season. Their lead was wholly unexpected as the Blues became the gifts that kept on giving.
The most unlikely of victories appeared on the cards until Costa's late, dramatic acrobatics.
As Swansea failed to clear in a packed penalty box, the Spaniard took off to meet a rising, blocked shot and powered his bicycle kick into the net. He deserved his grand finale.
There are heroes. There are villains. But no one does both better than Costa.