OLAS 461 Sunday 24th May 2009
So we are staying put in East London. No European adventures for us. And while it would have been brilliant to have pipped the Spuds, after looking down on them for most of the season, and it would have been valuable experience particularly for our younger players, in truth our team is probably not quite ready yet. That doesn’t mean that there’s nothing to play for today though. (God, that was a good double negative – maybe even better if I wrote ‘not that it doesn’t mean there’s nothing…). Because today we have the opportunity to exact revenge on the team that dumped us out of the F A Cup, after such a promising start to the competition.
I was convinced that we could go all the way to Wem-ber-ley. When we swept past Barnsley and Hartlepool back in January we looked an excellent outsider bet to get to the Cup Final. Zola remembered the excitement of playing in the FA Cup well enough to fire up the players for it in advance – but, when it came to what we did on the pitch, we misfired against Middlesborough and they deserved to put us out. Today, though, we hold a much bigger punishment over them. We are all that stands between them and a 12-month visit to the “Championship” league. Now there’s a misnomer for you! Let’s call a spade a spade and recast that sentence: “We are all that stands between them and a 12 month visit to the crappy, crappy, crap league for crappy, crappy, crap teams” – we should know. After all, it wasn’t so long ago that we were down there ourselves in the crap.
And even if Middlesborough beat us today they will depend for their survival on Hull losing heavily to the newly crowned champions just a few days before Manure play in the Champions League final. I can’t see Manure playing their best players or going in hard for every 50-50 ball, and if Hull keep their shape I think a draw is on the cards there or a narrow defeat for the Tigers. Boro must also rely on their rather unpredictable neighbours in Newcastle to get nothing out of their game against Villa too. And just to emphasise what a cheerful place the North East is – Sunderland’s defeat at Portsmouth means they are not safe yet either. Hard times for Geordies indeed.
Here at Upton Park, with 6 weeks to go, it was great (and an unusual experience) to be playing the fag end of the season with a realistic chance of getting a European place rather than scrambling to escape relegation or going through the motions having achieved a safe place in mid-table-no-man’s-land. A combination of severe injuries to the wrong players, poor refereeing and some piss-poor performances by those without injuries (especially Di Michele and Kojak - his unbelievable goal at Everton notwithstanding) have ended that Euro dream. But the chance to send Middlesborough down is a terrific incentive for a stirring final day performance.
I don’t exactly hate them, but of the three North Eastern teams fighting relegation Boro are the ones I care for least. Both Newcastle and Sunderland seem to have really passionate fans – I can’t understand a fucking word they say, but I acknowledge they are passionate about their team and, like us, when we have gone through bad patches, they are still well capable of filling their stadium with fans that forgive them and adore them.
I suppose I’ve got a soft spot for Newcastle because they featured in the first game I came to at Upton Park in November 1966. We won 3-0 – but Newcastle played their part in an open attacking game. So for historical and nostalgic reasons, when we play Newcastle it reminds me that we’re in the right league.
Sunderland have of course been much more of a yo-yo side but again I have great memories of games against them. In that first season I came to Upton Park I saw Geoff Hurst nod in an injury time equaliser from an impossible angle. After that 2-2 game I never felt able to leave before the final whistle whatever pile of shit was being served up at our “football academy”. And, a couple of years later, Sunderland were the victims in the biggest slaughter I have ever seen on a football pitch when we demolished them 8-0. They were 4 down at half time but they didn’t stop playing football. Somewhere back in the mists of that time we also went 1-0 down away to Sunderland but responded with five goals in a 15-minute period of the second half.
So I still cherish the chance to play Sunderland or Newcastle but Boro can shove off. I won’t miss them.
I used to live with a Geordie when I was a student. My impressions of a Geordie accent were generally acknowledged by the rest of the household to be far better than his attempts of a London accent, which had him sounding like Dick Van Dyck in Mary Poppins, or more often just sounding like a dick. When my friend Mick got stressed he used to put his jacket on and announce: “Um gan dooner rood coz me heeds bostin” which looks rather Icelandic but translates from Geordie to: “I’m going down the road because my head’s bursting”
And speaking of Icelandic, it looks like their days as West Ham’s owners are fast disappearing. Who owns the club next is anybody’s guess, but they would be well advised not to interfere with the team management set up. The Steve and Franco combination is one that has already made many changes for the better, not least is that we go forwards rather than backwards with the ball most of the time now. Franco has restored some dignity to the club which rightly took a battering. I admire his positivity, and with proper backing he and Steve Clarke can bring both excitement and success.
The most dedicated fans who have followed the Hammers round the country have tasted the most excitement and success most this season. The 4-1 win at Portsmouth, and the draws at Chelsea and Liverpool were more memorable than our inconsistent home performances. Our victory at Upton park over man City was memorable for rubbing Bellamy’s nose in it and the first 80 minutes against Everton with Collison’s outstanding goal was fantastic, but then we collapsed. The only game at home where we really won comfortably, playing sparkling football, and created enough chances to double or treble or score was against Hull City. Only the woodwork and their excellent goalkeeper kept the score down
Their challenge for the summer will be to unload the deadwood, hold on to our key players, ensure the walking wounded are back to full fitness for August and bring in at least 3 additions to the squad. I’m pessimistic about holding on to both Greeny and Upson and if one of them had to go to help bring in new players, it would be Mattie for me. Tomkins and Collins can make a fine central partnership.
Holding on to Tomkins, Collisson and Noble is the priority. Along with Savio, Junior Stan and Behrami we have six young players whose enthusiasm hasn’t been dented yet and are determined to make their mark. It is up to the club to ensure that they do it in the claret and blue (and that doesn’t mean Aston Villa).
I would like to believe that Ashton can return to full fitness and become the great player he was originally looked destined to be. And listen Deano, I returned to Tuesday night football this week, after a long layoff with injuries but I also managed to lose a stone and a half to prepare for coming back. If I can do it at 51 years old, you ought to be able to, you great tub of lard.
If we don’t hang on to Lucas Neill that is no disaster, though he has actually been one of our more consistent performers this year – and I don’t mean consistently shite, quite the opposite. But to me he doesn’t play a captain’s role and I would like to see Scott Parker take on that leadership role.
If the club are serious about pushing on they will have to strengthen the squad in all the key areas. We are crying out for a striker with physical presence and pace who is a natural goalscorer and whose name isn’t Tristan, to give us serious options in addition to Ashton and Cole. And if Nani hasn’t scouted one on the continent yet, we may find one here among the teams that are relegated or finished low, who would want to be at a club that can push for a European place.
Equally we desperately need a tricky and creative midfielder/winger. Savio is undoubtedly one in the making but we also need one who is ready now. And at right back, as a replacement for Lucas sooner or later, we need a tough tackling player who can stay in position and drive the team forward.
That’s what we have to do in the next few weeks – but today we want a home performance to remember and we want to see the looks on the faces of the tossers who dumped us out of the cup. Hope all my fellow scribblers have a good summer, and thanks, Gary, for giving us the space to unload our truly random thoughts. COYI!!!!
Sunday, 24 May 2009
Saturday, 9 May 2009
None shall escape the judgement
OLAS 460 9th May 2009
Diego Tristan – way past his sell-by date, less mobility than a statue or a corpse, a complete waste of space; Lucas Neill – slow as a snail, constantly out of position and obviously only here for the cash; Luis Boa Morte, a clown, a brainless goof, doesn’t know his arse from his el-boa…Well if I got it right all the time I would only get smug and I’m sure you discerning OLAS readers wouldn’t want your writers getting all smug, would you?
The great Irish writer James Joyce reckoned that “a man’s errors are his portals of discovery”, and I like to think that my portals are in fine fettle and that generally I can make the same claim that the late John Peel made, when he said, “I never make stupid mistakes, only very, very clever ones.”
it looks like I’ve got to ‘fess up to being far too hasty making some harsh judgements earlier this year. It has taken a while but Tristan’s goal against Stoke and his performance in general gave more than a hint as to why Zola has been willing to place faith in him. It could be argued that both his first two goals for the club were merely accidental collisions between his body and the ball, just random phenomena of time and space, but his free kick at Stoke was a marvellous piece of execution by someone who you sense could once do that kind of trick on a regular basis – and could do so again.
If that goal restores his confidence and self-belief and motivates him to increase his work-rate as he seeks to get his contract extended, then it couldn’t have come at a better time. And the same goes for our other two current heroes that I’ve been running down, with abuse and harsh words over the season. LBM is probably in the best spell of form for us that he has enjoyed since he got here on the back of an expensive foray into the transfer kitty that rarely ever looked remotely justified. In the last few games he’s been winning crucial tackles without murdering or stamping on his opponents, he has been driving forward in style, going past players, and placing accurate passes that motivate attacks. And Lucas Neill has been marshalling the defence, sweeping up in a defensive midfield position when required as well as helping to launch attacks with long cross field passes. Small wonder that in the last 9 league games we’ve only conceded four goals.
Some of the credit for that defensive record must also be given to James Tomkins who is growing in stature every game (in a metaphorical sense of course – the geezer started off about 9 foot tall already). Having Mattie Upson steady as a rock beside him, and Greenie in terrific form behind him, obviously helps. But with Lucas playing his best too and Ilunga enjoying his game, you’ve got to feel that we have a chance of remaining unbeaten and picking up points in all our three remaining games, starting with what must be on paper the toughest one, when we pit our wits against Liverpool today.
Facing Chelsea we were completely outclassed and spent much of the game elusively chasing the ball, knowing that every time we won it, one stray pass and we might not touch it for another five minutes. Yet we kept our shape, and our solidity at the back ensured that most of Chelsea’s opportunities were from a distance. We were never out of the game, even after conceding, and in contrast to their attempts mainly from outside the box, we actually had the clearer chances. If just one of them, including a penalty, had been put away, we could have come out with an unlikely point. And that was despite ending the game with half the team under 21 years of age and some of them barely out of school.
Today, I expect more of the same – Liverpool will outclass us, they will dominate, but we have to match them for effort, keep our shape and expose their defensive frailties. If one player can score four goals against them in one game imagine what a whole team could do! We won’t get anywhere today by being too clever and patient in our build up, it is the quick incisive pass, the clever dummy run that pulls defenders out of position, the first time effort…that could undo Liverpool today.
Let’s hope Savio has recovered – he had to pull out of the squad against Stoke, but it’s his quick thinking we need, or Keiron Dyer’s, or Junior Stan-man’s, to make an impact on Liverpool’s rearguard.
When Tom Jones sang “It’s not unusual” he probably did not have in mind “for West Ham to be desperately seeking points at this stage of the season”. It doesn’t even scan, but let’s imagine he did. How many times have we gone into the last few games needing points for survival? But here we are, this year, seeking those end of season points to propel us back into European football. it’s hard to believe and, under Curbishley, it would have been as unlikely as me growing an extra leg.
It’s a big ask given the resources of at least two of the three clubs that are competing with us, but I have to admit I’ll feel a bit disappointed now if we don’t do it, especially as two of them – Citeh and Spuds – have to play each other, and hopefully will reach a stalemate from which we can benefit. Citeh also have to face their local neighbours who want to hold on to the title and take revenge for recent defeats at the hands of Citeh. Whatever happens today I fancy us to get at least four if not five or 6 points from these last three games. Some pundits believe four will be sufficient. I’m not so sure. Of the four competing teams I still have a sneaking feeling that Fulham will grab it, but since we go into those last thee games one point ahead of the chasing pack, it is at least on our own hands.
Whatever the final outcome we’ve got to acknowledge that our little Italian and his dour Scottish assistant have done a fantastic job here against the odds. Protecting the players from all the shenanigans going on about Tevezgate and the Icelandic aspect of the global banking crisis, instilling them with a team ethos and self-belief, and the resilience to pick themselves up after setbacks, bringing out the best from players who had been coasting, not letting injuries become any kind of excuse a la Redflap and his bare bones, shipping Lee Bowyer far away, and showing faith in the mental maturity of youth players…that is why we’re heading for exciting times.
And so am I over the next few days. Yes, I’m excited about playing Liverpool this afternoon but I’d be lying if I didn’t say I’m looking forward even more to Monday when I’m heading south of the river to see the Specials at Brixton Academy. I always loved their music and saw a lot of their contemporaries – the Beat, the Selecter, Elvis Costello, the Jam, the Clash, but never saw The Specials playing live. In recent years I’ve seen some of the individuals from the Specials – Roddy Radiation, Neville Staples but not all together – so I can’t wait, especially for that song for that Rude Boy, Louis Boa Morte: “Stop your messing around, better think of your future, time you straighten right out, creating problems in town…”
Let’s hope that the result is a bit special today too. COYI!!!!
Diego Tristan – way past his sell-by date, less mobility than a statue or a corpse, a complete waste of space; Lucas Neill – slow as a snail, constantly out of position and obviously only here for the cash; Luis Boa Morte, a clown, a brainless goof, doesn’t know his arse from his el-boa…Well if I got it right all the time I would only get smug and I’m sure you discerning OLAS readers wouldn’t want your writers getting all smug, would you?
The great Irish writer James Joyce reckoned that “a man’s errors are his portals of discovery”, and I like to think that my portals are in fine fettle and that generally I can make the same claim that the late John Peel made, when he said, “I never make stupid mistakes, only very, very clever ones.”
it looks like I’ve got to ‘fess up to being far too hasty making some harsh judgements earlier this year. It has taken a while but Tristan’s goal against Stoke and his performance in general gave more than a hint as to why Zola has been willing to place faith in him. It could be argued that both his first two goals for the club were merely accidental collisions between his body and the ball, just random phenomena of time and space, but his free kick at Stoke was a marvellous piece of execution by someone who you sense could once do that kind of trick on a regular basis – and could do so again.
If that goal restores his confidence and self-belief and motivates him to increase his work-rate as he seeks to get his contract extended, then it couldn’t have come at a better time. And the same goes for our other two current heroes that I’ve been running down, with abuse and harsh words over the season. LBM is probably in the best spell of form for us that he has enjoyed since he got here on the back of an expensive foray into the transfer kitty that rarely ever looked remotely justified. In the last few games he’s been winning crucial tackles without murdering or stamping on his opponents, he has been driving forward in style, going past players, and placing accurate passes that motivate attacks. And Lucas Neill has been marshalling the defence, sweeping up in a defensive midfield position when required as well as helping to launch attacks with long cross field passes. Small wonder that in the last 9 league games we’ve only conceded four goals.
Some of the credit for that defensive record must also be given to James Tomkins who is growing in stature every game (in a metaphorical sense of course – the geezer started off about 9 foot tall already). Having Mattie Upson steady as a rock beside him, and Greenie in terrific form behind him, obviously helps. But with Lucas playing his best too and Ilunga enjoying his game, you’ve got to feel that we have a chance of remaining unbeaten and picking up points in all our three remaining games, starting with what must be on paper the toughest one, when we pit our wits against Liverpool today.
Facing Chelsea we were completely outclassed and spent much of the game elusively chasing the ball, knowing that every time we won it, one stray pass and we might not touch it for another five minutes. Yet we kept our shape, and our solidity at the back ensured that most of Chelsea’s opportunities were from a distance. We were never out of the game, even after conceding, and in contrast to their attempts mainly from outside the box, we actually had the clearer chances. If just one of them, including a penalty, had been put away, we could have come out with an unlikely point. And that was despite ending the game with half the team under 21 years of age and some of them barely out of school.
Today, I expect more of the same – Liverpool will outclass us, they will dominate, but we have to match them for effort, keep our shape and expose their defensive frailties. If one player can score four goals against them in one game imagine what a whole team could do! We won’t get anywhere today by being too clever and patient in our build up, it is the quick incisive pass, the clever dummy run that pulls defenders out of position, the first time effort…that could undo Liverpool today.
Let’s hope Savio has recovered – he had to pull out of the squad against Stoke, but it’s his quick thinking we need, or Keiron Dyer’s, or Junior Stan-man’s, to make an impact on Liverpool’s rearguard.
When Tom Jones sang “It’s not unusual” he probably did not have in mind “for West Ham to be desperately seeking points at this stage of the season”. It doesn’t even scan, but let’s imagine he did. How many times have we gone into the last few games needing points for survival? But here we are, this year, seeking those end of season points to propel us back into European football. it’s hard to believe and, under Curbishley, it would have been as unlikely as me growing an extra leg.
It’s a big ask given the resources of at least two of the three clubs that are competing with us, but I have to admit I’ll feel a bit disappointed now if we don’t do it, especially as two of them – Citeh and Spuds – have to play each other, and hopefully will reach a stalemate from which we can benefit. Citeh also have to face their local neighbours who want to hold on to the title and take revenge for recent defeats at the hands of Citeh. Whatever happens today I fancy us to get at least four if not five or 6 points from these last three games. Some pundits believe four will be sufficient. I’m not so sure. Of the four competing teams I still have a sneaking feeling that Fulham will grab it, but since we go into those last thee games one point ahead of the chasing pack, it is at least on our own hands.
Whatever the final outcome we’ve got to acknowledge that our little Italian and his dour Scottish assistant have done a fantastic job here against the odds. Protecting the players from all the shenanigans going on about Tevezgate and the Icelandic aspect of the global banking crisis, instilling them with a team ethos and self-belief, and the resilience to pick themselves up after setbacks, bringing out the best from players who had been coasting, not letting injuries become any kind of excuse a la Redflap and his bare bones, shipping Lee Bowyer far away, and showing faith in the mental maturity of youth players…that is why we’re heading for exciting times.
And so am I over the next few days. Yes, I’m excited about playing Liverpool this afternoon but I’d be lying if I didn’t say I’m looking forward even more to Monday when I’m heading south of the river to see the Specials at Brixton Academy. I always loved their music and saw a lot of their contemporaries – the Beat, the Selecter, Elvis Costello, the Jam, the Clash, but never saw The Specials playing live. In recent years I’ve seen some of the individuals from the Specials – Roddy Radiation, Neville Staples but not all together – so I can’t wait, especially for that song for that Rude Boy, Louis Boa Morte: “Stop your messing around, better think of your future, time you straighten right out, creating problems in town…”
Let’s hope that the result is a bit special today too. COYI!!!!
Saturday, 2 May 2009
The other Franco
OLAS 459, April 24th 2009
I bumped into my neighbour Dave last Sunday, who threw me a googly a couple of hours before Arsenal and Chelsea were due to lock horns in the semi final of the FA Cup. Dave is a Spurs fan and he knows I’m West Ham, so he says to me: “Who do you want to lose today – Arsenal or Chelsea? I’m finding it tough myself.” Well, what do you do in a situation in which there is no lesser evil? A bit like who would you rather eat a pizza with – George Bush or Prince Philip? I was a bit thrown. “How long have you got?” I asked him.
Dave admitted that in the end he wanted Chelsea to lose – breaking the habit of a lifetime of always wanting Arsenal to lose, whoever their opponents were, and even if they were playing tiddlywinks. Ultimately, I took the opposite stand – I wanted Arsenal to lose, but for the best and most pure and humane motives - not out of pure hatred - just a tactical assessment for West Ham. It’s bad enough facing Chelsea today with half our reserve and under-11 team. Even worse if they come here smarting from defeat in the cup semis. Well thanks to Fabianski having a moment of madness, running to the edge of the area like the greyhounds who used to chase the rabbit at Walthamstow, and leaving Drogba a simple chance, Chelsea come here relaxed and happy and not smarting in the least. Just how we like them.
And while we are on the FA Cup, all power to Everton for dumping Man U’s spotty, super-annuated arseholes out of the tournament. OK Everton are a top club themselves now, but it was still a victory for the underdog over the rich and powerful, a win against the odds for those below stairs over the arrogant aristocracy.
Back in our mini league for seventh place, it’s all hotting up and you can feel the perspiration. We did ourselves a massive favour last outing at Upton Park with a deserved victory over Sunderland who strangely find themselves as the Geordie pacemakers these days. Neither side were in inspiring form but the hunger and commitment of our youth players – especially Tomkins and Junior Stan who bagged the goals – made the difference. The icing on the cake was Spurs going down at Blackburn, (at not on) which meant we could face what was bound to be a tough trip to Shite Hart Lane with a healthy six-point gap between us. Now Harry Redflap always used to complain about being “down to the bare bones” but here, our bare bones were down to their whatever bare bones get down to.
With no expectation of us getting even a point there, and knowing that in the general course of my existence I was bound to bump into some Spurs fans among my friends soon, I was glad that this game coincided with a short break we had arranged to Barcelona. It’s a terrific place.
One of the nicest things about going away is that opportunity to get away from some of the stupid and petty attitudes you encounter at home. The only trouble is that, if you’re unlucky, you might meet them on the way. So we’re in the queue at airline security at Heathrow – the bit where they make you take your belt off, empty your pockets, dispose of dangerous bottles of drinking water, which might harbour small amphibious terrorists, and take your shoes off to submit them to careful examination. They may be examining your sole, but it feels like these bastards are interrogating your soul. Anyway, while we are waiting, we get chatting to the family in front of us. He’s got a Welsh accent and he asks us where we’re from. When we say “London”, he comments “We used to live in London but (turning to his dopey looking cross-eyed kid), Jack would have had to learn English as a second language, to Urdu or something. So we moved to Northampton.” Effectively their response to multicultural London was Jack-off. The conversation ended there. I made a mental note to avoid Northampton, although I did remember that the nickname they gave the local football team many moons ago was “Cobblers”. How very prescient.
Barcelona is a very chilled-out place – fantastic and weird architecture, good cafes, great art – and very easy to get around. They have a tube system that even tells you where you are going and how long till the next stop. None of those announcements that, “due to planned engineering works this weekend there is no service on the Northern, Victoria, Pickled-willy, District, Circle, Hammersmith and City, Victoria or Central lines – on all other lines there is a good service.”
In Barcelona people are football-mad, and with good reason, as they have a fantastic team that will always be competing to win whatever silverware is up for grabs. My respect for them increased when I delved a little bit into their social and political history. Barcelona are the team that General Franco hated –the club’s president was murdered by Franco’s forces in 1937 and a fascist bomb was dropped on the club’s offices in 1938. Their great rivals, Real Madrid, were Franco’s team of choice – and Barcelona, the city, was a centre of resistance. In the Gothic Quarter the results of fascist bombardment and bullets have been preserved as a historical reminder.
I like Barcelona’s attitude to shirt sponsorship too – resisting countless attempts by big ugly corporations to celebrate their exploitative practices by having their names plastered all over their shirts. When they did finally accept a sponsor, it was UNICEF – the UN body working to support children’s rights across the world, especially in the most disadvantaged settings – including of course the right to play. While I was visiting I bought a shirt with Barca’s third colours - two shades of turquoise – that are not far from our own sky blue.
I don’t normally like shopping but in Barcelona it feels more like a pleasure. We were walking down one of the city’s main shopping streets when we come to a window with lots of Adidas football gear. The carefully understated slogan printed on the window stopped me in my tracks: “impossible is nothing”. It got me thinking about how we could turn round some of our football slogans and songs. We could bellow at the visiting fans: “an ambulance – your going home in” or the referee: “what you’re doing – you don’t know” – or even to ourselves “Blowing bubbles – I’m forever,” while 200 miles from London now doubt they’ll be singing “Alone – You’ll never walk.” Not sure they will catch on though.
An unlikely draw up at Villa, with an even unlikelier goal by Tristan – who never seems to move unless he really has to – sets us up nicely for today’s big East-West encounter. Chelsea haven’t given up on the championship and will rightly expect to blow us over. Even their defenders probably have more nous up front than our two fading stars in the sunset of their careers. Making a virtue of necessity, Zola has put a lot of faith in the youth to give us energy, inventiveness and improvisation. Junior Stan is relishing his opportunity and Mark Noble’s returning to better form each game. I hope today Zola will give Freddie Sears an opportunity from the start to show that he’s worth a run too as first choice till Cole gets up again from hibernation. One of our best performances this year was at Stamford Bridge where we frustrated Chelsea, hit them on the break and came within a whisker of winning it at the end. My head says we will lose by three goals but my heart tells me it will be so much closer than that. And, as they say in Barcelona: “lo imposible nada es” - “Impossible is nothing”.
I bumped into my neighbour Dave last Sunday, who threw me a googly a couple of hours before Arsenal and Chelsea were due to lock horns in the semi final of the FA Cup. Dave is a Spurs fan and he knows I’m West Ham, so he says to me: “Who do you want to lose today – Arsenal or Chelsea? I’m finding it tough myself.” Well, what do you do in a situation in which there is no lesser evil? A bit like who would you rather eat a pizza with – George Bush or Prince Philip? I was a bit thrown. “How long have you got?” I asked him.
Dave admitted that in the end he wanted Chelsea to lose – breaking the habit of a lifetime of always wanting Arsenal to lose, whoever their opponents were, and even if they were playing tiddlywinks. Ultimately, I took the opposite stand – I wanted Arsenal to lose, but for the best and most pure and humane motives - not out of pure hatred - just a tactical assessment for West Ham. It’s bad enough facing Chelsea today with half our reserve and under-11 team. Even worse if they come here smarting from defeat in the cup semis. Well thanks to Fabianski having a moment of madness, running to the edge of the area like the greyhounds who used to chase the rabbit at Walthamstow, and leaving Drogba a simple chance, Chelsea come here relaxed and happy and not smarting in the least. Just how we like them.
And while we are on the FA Cup, all power to Everton for dumping Man U’s spotty, super-annuated arseholes out of the tournament. OK Everton are a top club themselves now, but it was still a victory for the underdog over the rich and powerful, a win against the odds for those below stairs over the arrogant aristocracy.
Back in our mini league for seventh place, it’s all hotting up and you can feel the perspiration. We did ourselves a massive favour last outing at Upton Park with a deserved victory over Sunderland who strangely find themselves as the Geordie pacemakers these days. Neither side were in inspiring form but the hunger and commitment of our youth players – especially Tomkins and Junior Stan who bagged the goals – made the difference. The icing on the cake was Spurs going down at Blackburn, (at not on) which meant we could face what was bound to be a tough trip to Shite Hart Lane with a healthy six-point gap between us. Now Harry Redflap always used to complain about being “down to the bare bones” but here, our bare bones were down to their whatever bare bones get down to.
With no expectation of us getting even a point there, and knowing that in the general course of my existence I was bound to bump into some Spurs fans among my friends soon, I was glad that this game coincided with a short break we had arranged to Barcelona. It’s a terrific place.
One of the nicest things about going away is that opportunity to get away from some of the stupid and petty attitudes you encounter at home. The only trouble is that, if you’re unlucky, you might meet them on the way. So we’re in the queue at airline security at Heathrow – the bit where they make you take your belt off, empty your pockets, dispose of dangerous bottles of drinking water, which might harbour small amphibious terrorists, and take your shoes off to submit them to careful examination. They may be examining your sole, but it feels like these bastards are interrogating your soul. Anyway, while we are waiting, we get chatting to the family in front of us. He’s got a Welsh accent and he asks us where we’re from. When we say “London”, he comments “We used to live in London but (turning to his dopey looking cross-eyed kid), Jack would have had to learn English as a second language, to Urdu or something. So we moved to Northampton.” Effectively their response to multicultural London was Jack-off. The conversation ended there. I made a mental note to avoid Northampton, although I did remember that the nickname they gave the local football team many moons ago was “Cobblers”. How very prescient.
Barcelona is a very chilled-out place – fantastic and weird architecture, good cafes, great art – and very easy to get around. They have a tube system that even tells you where you are going and how long till the next stop. None of those announcements that, “due to planned engineering works this weekend there is no service on the Northern, Victoria, Pickled-willy, District, Circle, Hammersmith and City, Victoria or Central lines – on all other lines there is a good service.”
In Barcelona people are football-mad, and with good reason, as they have a fantastic team that will always be competing to win whatever silverware is up for grabs. My respect for them increased when I delved a little bit into their social and political history. Barcelona are the team that General Franco hated –the club’s president was murdered by Franco’s forces in 1937 and a fascist bomb was dropped on the club’s offices in 1938. Their great rivals, Real Madrid, were Franco’s team of choice – and Barcelona, the city, was a centre of resistance. In the Gothic Quarter the results of fascist bombardment and bullets have been preserved as a historical reminder.
I like Barcelona’s attitude to shirt sponsorship too – resisting countless attempts by big ugly corporations to celebrate their exploitative practices by having their names plastered all over their shirts. When they did finally accept a sponsor, it was UNICEF – the UN body working to support children’s rights across the world, especially in the most disadvantaged settings – including of course the right to play. While I was visiting I bought a shirt with Barca’s third colours - two shades of turquoise – that are not far from our own sky blue.
I don’t normally like shopping but in Barcelona it feels more like a pleasure. We were walking down one of the city’s main shopping streets when we come to a window with lots of Adidas football gear. The carefully understated slogan printed on the window stopped me in my tracks: “impossible is nothing”. It got me thinking about how we could turn round some of our football slogans and songs. We could bellow at the visiting fans: “an ambulance – your going home in” or the referee: “what you’re doing – you don’t know” – or even to ourselves “Blowing bubbles – I’m forever,” while 200 miles from London now doubt they’ll be singing “Alone – You’ll never walk.” Not sure they will catch on though.
An unlikely draw up at Villa, with an even unlikelier goal by Tristan – who never seems to move unless he really has to – sets us up nicely for today’s big East-West encounter. Chelsea haven’t given up on the championship and will rightly expect to blow us over. Even their defenders probably have more nous up front than our two fading stars in the sunset of their careers. Making a virtue of necessity, Zola has put a lot of faith in the youth to give us energy, inventiveness and improvisation. Junior Stan is relishing his opportunity and Mark Noble’s returning to better form each game. I hope today Zola will give Freddie Sears an opportunity from the start to show that he’s worth a run too as first choice till Cole gets up again from hibernation. One of our best performances this year was at Stamford Bridge where we frustrated Chelsea, hit them on the break and came within a whisker of winning it at the end. My head says we will lose by three goals but my heart tells me it will be so much closer than that. And, as they say in Barcelona: “lo imposible nada es” - “Impossible is nothing”.
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