OLAS 484 April 24th 2010
My column this week is dedicated to our older cat, who rejoiced in the name “Cannabis”, who passed away last Monday morning, April 19th. In her 14 years on Planet Earth she truly lived up to her name (certainly more than Jonathan Spector lives up to the name “footballer”). She made you feel relaxed and happy. When she was sitting with you, or near you, all your troubles – even those of a long-suffering West Ham fan, floated away. Because we are Hammers we spend significant parts of our lives (well the weekends anyway, especially after 5pm on a Saturday), despondent, angry, disappointed, frustrated – and occasionally elated. Cannabis the Cat reminded me of Ron Greenwood’s adage after West Ham beat Sunderland 8-0 back in October ‘68 (I was there!) when he was asked to comment on how he felt after that incredible performance; he said “I don’t get too elated when things go well and I don’t get too depressed when things go badly.” She was the most equable, chilled out, happy-go-lucky pet you can imagine, facing life with a smile and, like most cats, with curiosity. Throughout her life she was fascinated by water systems – toilets, baths, showers – and mechanical devices. And maybe she’ll come back as a plumber or an inventor in another life. They say that cannabis can have detrimental effects on your long term something or other – oh yes, memory. Well after spending 14 years with Cannabis the Cat I can still remember the most obscure stuff about West Ham in the 1960s when I first started coming to Upton Park. So they don’t know what they are talking about. She only had good effects on those around her, spreading warmth and happiness. May her memory be for a blessing.
Now, everyone has got their favourite combination – Hurst and Peters, a pint of lager and a bowl of wasabi peas, sun and sea, bagels and cream cheese…but surely the best combo is a weekend when West Ham win and Spurs lose both of which for different reasons were about as unlikely a couple of weeks back as being able to spend a day looking up at a beautiful blue sky and smelling the cleaner air uninterrupted by the sight and sound of planes. As an old Chinese proverb says, we are condemned to live in interesting times.
And hasn’t the sky been beautiful? As for Iceland though – you should see the size of the fucking cloud they left over West Ham just the other year.
Portsmouth’s season has crumbled into (non-volcanic) dust so they were at least relieved of any expectation of victory against Spurs. Nothing to lose, but instead, a chance for a great day out for their shattered fans, and the none too enticing promise of an opportunity to play in the cup final against the team that recently thumped them 5-0 on their home vegetable patch.
Spurs have been riding high most of the season under Harry, and although the taxman is in sight he keeps dodging away from him. Much as it pains me to admit it, the Artful Dodger has assembled an excellent squad of fast, aggressive attacking players, many of whom are capable of hitting the net. Their defence often looks dodgy but it’s more than compensated for by their goal-scoring, match winning options. They have a few players - Bale, Lennon, Huddleston, Modric – I would so love to see playing in claret and blue – not that we are in a position to attract any but bargain-basement, has-beens and never-will-have-beens at the moment. We all expected Portsmouth to make a game of it but I felt sure that if Spurs took the lead, Portsmouth heads would go down and they were well capable of losing by three or four. But they performed magnificently and thoroughly deserved their victory. The displayed exactly the kind of self-confidence and determination to succeed that we could have done with in our encounters against most of the top-half sides in this torrid season.
Our own desperately needed victory over the “mighty” Sunderland 24 hours earlier was a reward for grit and determination if not for quality or creativity. There was a rather long period earlier in the season when we couldn’t buy an ugly 1-0 win for love nor money and this one was so timely. Although those who closely follow my column will know that I suggested we were in for a high scoring game, half an hour before kick-off I disagreed with myself and decided to put my money on 1-0. As it turned out this was my first successful correct score bet of the season. And I won back about half the money I had thrown away on the Grand National. It seems that Ladbrokes, like God or the taxman gives with one hand but takes, and takes, and takes with the other.
Those four points from the Everton and Sunderland fixtures brought our dismal run of spineless defeats to an end and set us up nicely for our annual nightmare of a fixture at Anfield. With Hull and Wolves only able to register draws at the weekend things looked even more promising, but then Wigan pulled a victory out of certain defeat and against all odds stretched four points ahead of us again. And with Bolton having come from behind to win full points, the need to play out of our skins and get something from the visit to Liverpool was surely staring every one of our players in the face.
Out of our skins? We hardly got out of our half! It was an abject performance all round and we deserved to get trashed by more than the three goals a half-hearted Liverpool managed without having to break sweat before their more important European game. The only Hammers to emerge with any credit were the fans who could be heard throughout trying to lift the players and instill the pride that amazingly we still feel in identifying with our team – a team that must be our weakest, least talented or creative, and without doubt the least committed that I can ever remember.
I don’t suppose we’ll be told, but they showed every sign of a squad that had had a huge falling out with each other before the game. The team spirit that has been missing most of the season but was so evident against Everton and Sunderland, was not present at all. Zola and Clarke looked defeated at Anfield before a ball was kicked and they seemed totally devoid of ideas during the game. The players were barely going through the motions. If this isn’t sorted out by today then there are no two ways about it – we are fucked and thoroughly deserve to be. There are no excuses for our (lack of) performance at Liverpool though no doubt someone will probably say it was something to do with volcanic ash getting into our engines and slowing us down...
I remember a game against Liverpool just a few months ago when we were full of ideas and courage, when we played our hearts out and got narrowly defeated. We were in need of points at the time but not desperately fighting relegation. Surely we were entitled to expect at least that level of performance last Monday, when that threat hung over us so obviously and so menacingly. For all our efforts we might have been narrowly beaten again – Liverpool after all do have world-class players rather than the second-raters, the cast-offs and the inexperienced youngsters whose self-confidence is at rock-bottom that we possess – but psychologically it would have been so different. A battling defeat would have meant taking some spirit and pride and fight into today’s game. Instead we will be approaching it with a combination of desperation and gloom and not like any of those combos I mentioned earlier.
If we play like we did on Monday, and Wigan get the first goal, we won’t come back. But if we are too nervous about conceding then we won’t be brave enough going forward. I don’t know what the answer is – the season was lost in so many other games – but the 11 players who played the other night won’t do it. Scott Parker will be in for one of those places (hopefully Kojak’s); I’m praying that Daprella gets the nod over Spectator. And, though he may be a total nutter, Diamanti needs to be there – his passion is infectious and with a team so surprisingly lacking in attacking ideas it may only be from his powerful expertise in dead ball situations that we can hope to threaten Wigan’s goal. We can do it – but it is absolutely vital that we get the first goal. And let’s pray for Hull and Burnley’s opponents. If we fail to beat Wigan, and Wigan have hauled themselves to safety by the time they have to play Hull, you don’t need to be Mystic Meg to predict that result.
A few weeks ago when I interviewed Billy Bragg for OLAS and asked what results he wanted by the end of the season he said: “I’d like to see the BNP soundly defeated in Barking & Dagenham and the Hammers pull clear of the bottom six.” Since then we have definitely seen progress on the first, if not the other. Last weekend people in Barking and Dagenham who have been trying to expose the lies and racism of the BNP were joined by hundreds of others (myself included) in making sure that every home in the borough received a tabloid paper from Hope Not Hate – urging people to vote for the first by rejecting the second. Meanwhile we’ve seen serious in-fighting within the BNP – some of their candidates have stepped down and others have been expelled. One of their leading officers it seems had allegedly threatened to kill their leader Nick Griffin and has had to explain this to the police. I hope they get him for jumping the queue as well! Anyway OLAS readers – please, please, use your votes for Hope and not for Hate, and talk to your mates about it – this time it really is serious.
As for the second well, let’s see what can be done for “hope” at Upton Park this afternoon. Our next visitors here, after today, will be Man City on the final day of the season. Let’s hope that, by then, that will be one result that won’t matter because I can’t see us getting anything out of that game if they need the points too. Our team may be shite and look as if they don’t give a flying fuck, and in truth we probably deserve to go down, but if Hull and Burnley fail and our players find a way to keep us in the premier league I continue to believe that we can turn things around by the start of next season. We can begin then to restore the club to what it should be and what fans like us deserve to be part of. As the great philosophers of Sham 69 said: “They can lie to my face but not to my heart. If we all stand together, it will just be the start”. COYI!!!
Saturday 24 April 2010
Beautiful Day
OLAS 483 April 10th 2010
Telepathy? Maybe. But early on Saturday morning, for the first time in many years, I played one of my favourite tracks by the Levellers: “What a Beautiful Day”. It might have seemed an ironic choice given that we’ve been getting used to Saturdays and Sundays that are far from beautiful – but have been filled with anxiety and apprehension, desperation, doom and gloom. But last Saturday seemed to get better and better, what with Hull going a goal down on six minutes and Stoke doubling their lead in the second half, Wolves going down to an injury time goal at the Arse, and when I checked the Burnley - Man City score at half time in the late kick-off, I could hardly believe my eyes. Burnley have been strong at home for much of the season, while Man City have blown hot and cold, so I had fancied our claret and blue brothers to make that a tight game in what was almost a local derby (northern bastards v northern bastards).
It was truly a beautiful day and had me geared up looking forward with some optimism to Sunday, even though I get to win the lottery almost as often as we get something from Goodson Park, ie never.
The news just a few minutes before our game that Wigan were leading at Fulham was threatening to ruin the lucky charm of the weekend but Zola was clearly in fighting form and managed to instil that into the players. Admittedly the situation on half time still didn’t look too promising. In an all too familiar script we had started well but faded. We were fighting but losing too many challenges in midfield and that was putting the defence under increasing strain. Inevitably we paid for it when we gave away a soft goal, for which Spectator, da Costa and Upson were all at fault.
Fortunately Everton were not at their sharpest and rarely threatened to take more advantage of our weaknesses. Meanwhile Noble and Parker – who both epitomised the spirit needed to fight back – were working overtime to hold the fort and Stanislas tried to use his pace to create openings for our forwards. Parker’s most spirited and foolhardy moment was when he went tumbling over but, desperate to pass the ball to a team-mate, he lay flat on the ground and headed the ball with boots flying nearby. It brought to mind a comment by my late comedian friend (and Hammers fan), the brilliant Linda Smith, when she described rugby players who go in head first: “They have no fear of head injuries and apparently no reason to fear them”.
Parker led a series of threatening runs but our one moment of real creativity that left Everton hopelessly undone came to nothing when Mido chose to tap the ball gently for their goalie rather than smash in a penalty perhaps generously awarded.
I was watching the game in my local pub with two mates – one an Everton supporter and the other another Tufnell Park Hammer. The former had good reason to be smug and half time and the latter, like me, was not particularly looking forward to the second half, though well aware that we were still in the game at 1-0 down.
Second half of course was a different story. We played with more pace and determination, started to win challenges and look more threatening on the break while the defence were snuffing out any Everton threats much more efficiently. When Noble placed a beautiful chip, worthy of the Academy of Football, over their goalie, only to see it bounce back off the bar I almost resigned myself to another defeat, only one with better quality excuses “…but we missed a penalty and hit the bar”.
A minute later, though, we were truly celebrating. Da Costa’s stab at the ball was hardly the stuff that gave us the reputation of “the Academy” but his grit and effort, and the way he and the team celebrated, typified the spirit we need, along with the style we have grown accustomed to over the years, but which reveals itself so rarely these days. Suddenly it really was game-on. As the game wore on I didn’t think Everton were going to break us down and the chances of us nicking a goal on the break seemed to be increasing. Cole had an excellent chance but shot wide from a good position.
I don’t know whether the players knew, but the news from Craven Cottage that Fulham had not only pulled a goal back but also taken the lead over Wigan was keeping our spirits up as well.
Everton’s second goal with five minutes to go, ought to have been a killer. Like so many of the 57 varieties of goals we have conceded this season, its origins were in our defence’s inability to make a simple and effective clearance in the first place , and that was an open invitation to place us under more pressure. This was followed by two of our tallest defenders being out jumped and out-manoeuvred from a teasing cross. At that moment the only consolation was that we had actually fought back form going a goal down and had looked like we were going to hold on for an unlikely point. It wouldn’t have felt like a defeat in the same way as other recent drubbings. We hadn’t just put our heads down, rolled over and died. But a couple of minutes later came a West Ham goal of old. A precision cross not to the player’s head but to where the forward was running. A powerful diving header. 2-2, a point rescued and a moral victory. It was the kind of goal I used to see every other week in the days of Hurst and Peters, getting service from Brabrook, Redknapp and Sissons, but it was the kind of goal we have been starved of more recently. Full credit to Faubert for the cross and for Ilan for having the vision and bravery to go for it, and the precision to put it away. I doubt if Mido’s partner in the flab-stakes – McCarthy who was another option on the bench – would have had the speed or presence of mind to do what Ilan had done. So full credit to Zola for making the right substitution,
That moment in itself ought to clear up one of Zola’s selection quandaries today. In the 15 minutes he was on the pitch, Ilan was far more effective than Mido had been all afternoon and surely justifies a place in the starting 11. Mido wins more balls than you expect in the air but he is slow, overweight and perhaps better suited to watching football on television than playing it.
Losing Parker for two games is without doubt an immense blow – especially as he won the ball cleanly in the challenge for which he was booked but if Behrami is fit he can fill in, and Noble’s display at Everton gave confidence that he can take on that role too. As for elsewhere in midfield and defence, how we continue to choose that lummox Kojak and the utterly clueless Spectator when other options are available still baffles me. I hope that when Zola comes down from the jubilation he must be feeling and soberly analyses the weaknesses we still displayed, he will find alternatives to these donkeys (no offence to donkeys, who are fine animals and excellent jackets but are not footballers).
We all knew how crucial the home game with Stoke was in our last Upton Park outing and the crowd really got behind the team – as we must do today. We saw a determined performance but players still lacking in confidence following such a terrible run of defeats, and devoid of the guile, creativity and subtlety needed to unlock the totally predictable but well organised no-nonsense defensive unit that Stoke possess. Sunderland are more brittle than Stoke – they have let in 34 goals on the road compared with Stoke’s 16 – and we can go into this game with our heads held higher from that terrific point won at Everton. The danger is at the other end where Darren Bent, a player I never particularly rated has hit a patch of excellent form. A high-scoring game may be on the cards and at the final whistle Zola needs to be in a position to be able to reply in the style of the legendary Malcolm Allison, who when asked once on television why his team had triumphed, responded : “We scored more goals than they did.”
Wigan are not playing this weekend. Victory today means that whatever result ensues at Liverpool on April 19th (apart from losing 20-0) we would entertain Wigan on April 24th within striking distance of them and with a vastly superior goal difference. At the same time Hull and Burnley have to play each other and soon Hull and Wigan have to lock horns. So even if Hull haul themselves clear they will be keeping Burnley and Wigan down in the basement places. In addition Bolton are not quite out of it too. It all looks just a little rosier than 10 days ago and, as the Levellers remind us: “Nothing is impossible in my own powerful mind”. COYI!!!
Telepathy? Maybe. But early on Saturday morning, for the first time in many years, I played one of my favourite tracks by the Levellers: “What a Beautiful Day”. It might have seemed an ironic choice given that we’ve been getting used to Saturdays and Sundays that are far from beautiful – but have been filled with anxiety and apprehension, desperation, doom and gloom. But last Saturday seemed to get better and better, what with Hull going a goal down on six minutes and Stoke doubling their lead in the second half, Wolves going down to an injury time goal at the Arse, and when I checked the Burnley - Man City score at half time in the late kick-off, I could hardly believe my eyes. Burnley have been strong at home for much of the season, while Man City have blown hot and cold, so I had fancied our claret and blue brothers to make that a tight game in what was almost a local derby (northern bastards v northern bastards).
It was truly a beautiful day and had me geared up looking forward with some optimism to Sunday, even though I get to win the lottery almost as often as we get something from Goodson Park, ie never.
The news just a few minutes before our game that Wigan were leading at Fulham was threatening to ruin the lucky charm of the weekend but Zola was clearly in fighting form and managed to instil that into the players. Admittedly the situation on half time still didn’t look too promising. In an all too familiar script we had started well but faded. We were fighting but losing too many challenges in midfield and that was putting the defence under increasing strain. Inevitably we paid for it when we gave away a soft goal, for which Spectator, da Costa and Upson were all at fault.
Fortunately Everton were not at their sharpest and rarely threatened to take more advantage of our weaknesses. Meanwhile Noble and Parker – who both epitomised the spirit needed to fight back – were working overtime to hold the fort and Stanislas tried to use his pace to create openings for our forwards. Parker’s most spirited and foolhardy moment was when he went tumbling over but, desperate to pass the ball to a team-mate, he lay flat on the ground and headed the ball with boots flying nearby. It brought to mind a comment by my late comedian friend (and Hammers fan), the brilliant Linda Smith, when she described rugby players who go in head first: “They have no fear of head injuries and apparently no reason to fear them”.
Parker led a series of threatening runs but our one moment of real creativity that left Everton hopelessly undone came to nothing when Mido chose to tap the ball gently for their goalie rather than smash in a penalty perhaps generously awarded.
I was watching the game in my local pub with two mates – one an Everton supporter and the other another Tufnell Park Hammer. The former had good reason to be smug and half time and the latter, like me, was not particularly looking forward to the second half, though well aware that we were still in the game at 1-0 down.
Second half of course was a different story. We played with more pace and determination, started to win challenges and look more threatening on the break while the defence were snuffing out any Everton threats much more efficiently. When Noble placed a beautiful chip, worthy of the Academy of Football, over their goalie, only to see it bounce back off the bar I almost resigned myself to another defeat, only one with better quality excuses “…but we missed a penalty and hit the bar”.
A minute later, though, we were truly celebrating. Da Costa’s stab at the ball was hardly the stuff that gave us the reputation of “the Academy” but his grit and effort, and the way he and the team celebrated, typified the spirit we need, along with the style we have grown accustomed to over the years, but which reveals itself so rarely these days. Suddenly it really was game-on. As the game wore on I didn’t think Everton were going to break us down and the chances of us nicking a goal on the break seemed to be increasing. Cole had an excellent chance but shot wide from a good position.
I don’t know whether the players knew, but the news from Craven Cottage that Fulham had not only pulled a goal back but also taken the lead over Wigan was keeping our spirits up as well.
Everton’s second goal with five minutes to go, ought to have been a killer. Like so many of the 57 varieties of goals we have conceded this season, its origins were in our defence’s inability to make a simple and effective clearance in the first place , and that was an open invitation to place us under more pressure. This was followed by two of our tallest defenders being out jumped and out-manoeuvred from a teasing cross. At that moment the only consolation was that we had actually fought back form going a goal down and had looked like we were going to hold on for an unlikely point. It wouldn’t have felt like a defeat in the same way as other recent drubbings. We hadn’t just put our heads down, rolled over and died. But a couple of minutes later came a West Ham goal of old. A precision cross not to the player’s head but to where the forward was running. A powerful diving header. 2-2, a point rescued and a moral victory. It was the kind of goal I used to see every other week in the days of Hurst and Peters, getting service from Brabrook, Redknapp and Sissons, but it was the kind of goal we have been starved of more recently. Full credit to Faubert for the cross and for Ilan for having the vision and bravery to go for it, and the precision to put it away. I doubt if Mido’s partner in the flab-stakes – McCarthy who was another option on the bench – would have had the speed or presence of mind to do what Ilan had done. So full credit to Zola for making the right substitution,
That moment in itself ought to clear up one of Zola’s selection quandaries today. In the 15 minutes he was on the pitch, Ilan was far more effective than Mido had been all afternoon and surely justifies a place in the starting 11. Mido wins more balls than you expect in the air but he is slow, overweight and perhaps better suited to watching football on television than playing it.
Losing Parker for two games is without doubt an immense blow – especially as he won the ball cleanly in the challenge for which he was booked but if Behrami is fit he can fill in, and Noble’s display at Everton gave confidence that he can take on that role too. As for elsewhere in midfield and defence, how we continue to choose that lummox Kojak and the utterly clueless Spectator when other options are available still baffles me. I hope that when Zola comes down from the jubilation he must be feeling and soberly analyses the weaknesses we still displayed, he will find alternatives to these donkeys (no offence to donkeys, who are fine animals and excellent jackets but are not footballers).
We all knew how crucial the home game with Stoke was in our last Upton Park outing and the crowd really got behind the team – as we must do today. We saw a determined performance but players still lacking in confidence following such a terrible run of defeats, and devoid of the guile, creativity and subtlety needed to unlock the totally predictable but well organised no-nonsense defensive unit that Stoke possess. Sunderland are more brittle than Stoke – they have let in 34 goals on the road compared with Stoke’s 16 – and we can go into this game with our heads held higher from that terrific point won at Everton. The danger is at the other end where Darren Bent, a player I never particularly rated has hit a patch of excellent form. A high-scoring game may be on the cards and at the final whistle Zola needs to be in a position to be able to reply in the style of the legendary Malcolm Allison, who when asked once on television why his team had triumphed, responded : “We scored more goals than they did.”
Wigan are not playing this weekend. Victory today means that whatever result ensues at Liverpool on April 19th (apart from losing 20-0) we would entertain Wigan on April 24th within striking distance of them and with a vastly superior goal difference. At the same time Hull and Burnley have to play each other and soon Hull and Wigan have to lock horns. So even if Hull haul themselves clear they will be keeping Burnley and Wigan down in the basement places. In addition Bolton are not quite out of it too. It all looks just a little rosier than 10 days ago and, as the Levellers remind us: “Nothing is impossible in my own powerful mind”. COYI!!!
Who's afraid of the big, bad Wolves?
OLAS482 March 27th 2010
I can’t believe that I hadn’t seen it coming. All the warning signs were there in our feeble performances against the big three. And if I still hadn’t cottoned on to how low morale and expectations had fallen, and how low were the levels of interest among the players of playing for anything other than their wages, then the Bolton defeat spelt it out in huge capital letters.
I’m sure many of us expected a performance of passion, pride and determination against Wolves, similar to that against the other, and relatively high flying Midland team, Birmingham, just a few weeks back. Of course I knew that Wolves would fight for their lives but nevertheless I anticipated we would gain a narrow victory as anything less was cause for serious concern that we could well fill one of those hotly disputed three relegation places.
Any pride, determination and passion we saw on Tuesday were solely in the bellies of Wolves. They made sure that from the off they were first to every contested ball, that they won practically every aerial contest, and when they were offered or made chances to shoot they showed a clinical efficiency that belied their lowly position.
There are sometimes defeats that leave you feeling hard done by, where the efforts and skill the players have shown have failed to gain the reward they deserve, for example our performance at home to Liverpool back in September, or even at home to Chelsea in December where three points would not have flattered us. But I can’t take anything away from Wolves. They got what they entirely deserved. They were incredibly well organised, maintained their fighting spirit for 90 minutes, and though the stats will show they gave away a lot of free kicks, they did not resort to dirty tactics or niggling time-wasting games. They just set out to do the job in hand and they won it by showing desire and self-belief and a sense of the occasion.
Instead of laying siege to Wolves from the start we were dangerous only for two brief periods. First, there were the couple of minutes just before half-time when Scott Parker, perhaps the only Hammer who can look back with any self-respect on is performance, was desperately unlucky to see a well worked opportunity bounce back of the post and see his follow up effort held on the line. Second, we looked threatening for a few minutes just after Wolves go their third and were taking a well earned mental breather. In that period Diamanti came close on a couple of occasion. That neither Cole or McCarthy were to be found among our more threatening moments spoke volumes for their anonymity and also reflected the poor service they received from a midfield where Parker alone stood out, while the rest were below par and when they did move the ball around were so pedestrian, predictable and ineffective.
At least I won’t be foolish enough to have the same level of expectations today.
So how did we get so deeply in the brown stuff this year, after such a promising campaign last year? Well, back in October I wrote about our rueful wasted opportunity that presented itself in the game against Fulham at home, when we were a goal to the good and they were down to 10 men for the second half, but we only managed to scrape a last gasp draw:
“I would love to be wrong but I have a sneaking feeling that we will look back on that game at the end of the season as one we should have secured maximum points from to save us.”
Pretty much the same script could be applied to our visits to Hull and Sunderland where we threw away two goal and extra player advantages.
But if there was one moment that influenced our season more than any other, and which could not have been underlined more clearly than through Wolves’ crucial first gifted goal the other night, it was back in August when we inexplicably sold our best defender, James Collins, to a team challenging for the Champions League. As well as depriving ourselves of a dogged, reliable and skilful player we only took 5 mil for him. Peanuts. Although even if we sold him for 15 million it still wouldn’t have made up for the hole it left in our defence and the over-reliance it implied we would have to make on a talented but very young and inexperienced James Tomkins.
I won’t continue down this road because when you start to think of the talent we have let out of the gates of Upton Park it can only make you weep. But watching the teams that are fighting at the moment and making enough goal-scoring chances to pick up valuable points did set me thinking about how much we miss a player called Trevor. Of course if you mention Trevor then it is automatically assumed you mean the maestro Brooking, and it is unlikely you mean “ooh-Trevor Morley” but there was another clever Trevor plying his trade here a few years ago. We bought him for 1.5 million and he was one of my all-time favourite Hammers – Trevor Sinclair.
He was an exciting player, who had a telepathic understanding with Di Canio and Joe Cole. He was willing to try the unconventional, such as overhead kicks – but could pull it off, he was a great crosser of the ball, had a good shot, was clever with both feet, and not only carved out so many goal scoring opportunities for others but would do it himself. There are moments when I watch Junior Stan and I see a Trevor Sinclair Mark 2 – I’d love that to come true, because that is precisely the player and style of play we need in the final seven games. Though after he came on Tuesday, he hardly touched the ball.
A few weeks ago there were perhaps 8 teams with a realistic chance of being relegated. Most pundits now reckon that apart from Portsmouth, who are effectively gone it will be any two from Hull, Burnley, wolves and us. Bolton and Sunderland have pulled together enough decent results lately to apparently lift themselves away from danger, and some might believe the same about Wigan. I happen to believe that Bolton are not out of the woods yet and Wigan certainly aren’t despite their recent successive home wins. They have a terrible goal difference and if we can keep within three points of them we have the opportunity to turn the position to our advantage when we entertain them here on April 24th.
So today it is Stoke who stand in the way of us breathing more easily. They have to be one of the least lovable teams in the league. Their manager looks and sounds like a thug and he transmits that “philosophy” to his team. We can never put out our best team because they are always injured (or in “dyer straits” as it is colloquially known). Stoke can never put out their best team because there is always someone suspended. They get players sent off more regularly than I go to the toilet. Their manager/thug thinks it is a case of poor refereeing (by every ref every week). Now I’m the last person to defend the men in black who are clearly sponsored by Specsavers, but most of their decisions against Stoke players have been spot on and there are a few more who have got off lightly despite their brutal tactics. Tony Pulis’s puerile moans on this are a bit like joy-riders complaining that pedestrians really ought to be a bit more careful of passing traffic. Bollocks.
The last cultured player I can remember playing for Stoke was George Eastham (not to be confused with my mate George from East Ham who couldn’t hit a cow’s arse with a banjo – no that he would want to mind you, he’s rather fussy about his banjo)
Meanwhile the pressure has been growing on our manager. After defeats at Chelsea and Arsenal the clamour on “West Ham fan’s” websites was reaching fever pitch with the demand to dump Zola. And by the time I write this he may well have been dumped by the new bosses or given up the ghost himself.
I’ve been disappointed by some of his team selections – to persist in putting Kovac in the team when you have most of your best players available is pretty unforgivable, but it would be disastrous to change the management at this late stage. Our fate will not be decided by who is in charge for these games but effectively by what results Hull, Burnley, Wigan and Wolves manage over the next few weeks. It is partly in our own hands but also in theirs. Quite soon Hull and Burnley have to play each other, and while we pray they will cancel each other out, the odds have to be on one of them getting a three points boost to lift themselves closer to us if they haven’t caught us already.
Should he survive to the end of the campaign I don’t suppose Gilbert and Sullivan will show Zola much sympathy at the end of this gruelling season and it will be our loss if he is forced out or made to feel he should quit.
Clearly Zola is still learning the ropes but in the long run, given proper support, he can deliver us not only the football we want to see but also the achievement it will merit. If ever there is a manager who will want to learn from his mistakes and make next season a much happier and more successful one all round it will be our little Italian job.
A final word to say thanks and goodbye to another of my Hammers heroes – Ludo Miklosko. What a brilliant servant of our club. I hope he wasn’t under pressure to go but made his own choice. Most of all I will remember the day he almost single handily prevented Man U from winning at Upton Park the day that Blackburn snatched the league title. You were a big man with even bigger hands. Good luck for the future, Ludo
Well today I’m going for 2-0 but don’t know if that is goals scored by the Hammers or red cards handed to Stoke! COYI!!!!
I can’t believe that I hadn’t seen it coming. All the warning signs were there in our feeble performances against the big three. And if I still hadn’t cottoned on to how low morale and expectations had fallen, and how low were the levels of interest among the players of playing for anything other than their wages, then the Bolton defeat spelt it out in huge capital letters.
I’m sure many of us expected a performance of passion, pride and determination against Wolves, similar to that against the other, and relatively high flying Midland team, Birmingham, just a few weeks back. Of course I knew that Wolves would fight for their lives but nevertheless I anticipated we would gain a narrow victory as anything less was cause for serious concern that we could well fill one of those hotly disputed three relegation places.
Any pride, determination and passion we saw on Tuesday were solely in the bellies of Wolves. They made sure that from the off they were first to every contested ball, that they won practically every aerial contest, and when they were offered or made chances to shoot they showed a clinical efficiency that belied their lowly position.
There are sometimes defeats that leave you feeling hard done by, where the efforts and skill the players have shown have failed to gain the reward they deserve, for example our performance at home to Liverpool back in September, or even at home to Chelsea in December where three points would not have flattered us. But I can’t take anything away from Wolves. They got what they entirely deserved. They were incredibly well organised, maintained their fighting spirit for 90 minutes, and though the stats will show they gave away a lot of free kicks, they did not resort to dirty tactics or niggling time-wasting games. They just set out to do the job in hand and they won it by showing desire and self-belief and a sense of the occasion.
Instead of laying siege to Wolves from the start we were dangerous only for two brief periods. First, there were the couple of minutes just before half-time when Scott Parker, perhaps the only Hammer who can look back with any self-respect on is performance, was desperately unlucky to see a well worked opportunity bounce back of the post and see his follow up effort held on the line. Second, we looked threatening for a few minutes just after Wolves go their third and were taking a well earned mental breather. In that period Diamanti came close on a couple of occasion. That neither Cole or McCarthy were to be found among our more threatening moments spoke volumes for their anonymity and also reflected the poor service they received from a midfield where Parker alone stood out, while the rest were below par and when they did move the ball around were so pedestrian, predictable and ineffective.
At least I won’t be foolish enough to have the same level of expectations today.
So how did we get so deeply in the brown stuff this year, after such a promising campaign last year? Well, back in October I wrote about our rueful wasted opportunity that presented itself in the game against Fulham at home, when we were a goal to the good and they were down to 10 men for the second half, but we only managed to scrape a last gasp draw:
“I would love to be wrong but I have a sneaking feeling that we will look back on that game at the end of the season as one we should have secured maximum points from to save us.”
Pretty much the same script could be applied to our visits to Hull and Sunderland where we threw away two goal and extra player advantages.
But if there was one moment that influenced our season more than any other, and which could not have been underlined more clearly than through Wolves’ crucial first gifted goal the other night, it was back in August when we inexplicably sold our best defender, James Collins, to a team challenging for the Champions League. As well as depriving ourselves of a dogged, reliable and skilful player we only took 5 mil for him. Peanuts. Although even if we sold him for 15 million it still wouldn’t have made up for the hole it left in our defence and the over-reliance it implied we would have to make on a talented but very young and inexperienced James Tomkins.
I won’t continue down this road because when you start to think of the talent we have let out of the gates of Upton Park it can only make you weep. But watching the teams that are fighting at the moment and making enough goal-scoring chances to pick up valuable points did set me thinking about how much we miss a player called Trevor. Of course if you mention Trevor then it is automatically assumed you mean the maestro Brooking, and it is unlikely you mean “ooh-Trevor Morley” but there was another clever Trevor plying his trade here a few years ago. We bought him for 1.5 million and he was one of my all-time favourite Hammers – Trevor Sinclair.
He was an exciting player, who had a telepathic understanding with Di Canio and Joe Cole. He was willing to try the unconventional, such as overhead kicks – but could pull it off, he was a great crosser of the ball, had a good shot, was clever with both feet, and not only carved out so many goal scoring opportunities for others but would do it himself. There are moments when I watch Junior Stan and I see a Trevor Sinclair Mark 2 – I’d love that to come true, because that is precisely the player and style of play we need in the final seven games. Though after he came on Tuesday, he hardly touched the ball.
A few weeks ago there were perhaps 8 teams with a realistic chance of being relegated. Most pundits now reckon that apart from Portsmouth, who are effectively gone it will be any two from Hull, Burnley, wolves and us. Bolton and Sunderland have pulled together enough decent results lately to apparently lift themselves away from danger, and some might believe the same about Wigan. I happen to believe that Bolton are not out of the woods yet and Wigan certainly aren’t despite their recent successive home wins. They have a terrible goal difference and if we can keep within three points of them we have the opportunity to turn the position to our advantage when we entertain them here on April 24th.
So today it is Stoke who stand in the way of us breathing more easily. They have to be one of the least lovable teams in the league. Their manager looks and sounds like a thug and he transmits that “philosophy” to his team. We can never put out our best team because they are always injured (or in “dyer straits” as it is colloquially known). Stoke can never put out their best team because there is always someone suspended. They get players sent off more regularly than I go to the toilet. Their manager/thug thinks it is a case of poor refereeing (by every ref every week). Now I’m the last person to defend the men in black who are clearly sponsored by Specsavers, but most of their decisions against Stoke players have been spot on and there are a few more who have got off lightly despite their brutal tactics. Tony Pulis’s puerile moans on this are a bit like joy-riders complaining that pedestrians really ought to be a bit more careful of passing traffic. Bollocks.
The last cultured player I can remember playing for Stoke was George Eastham (not to be confused with my mate George from East Ham who couldn’t hit a cow’s arse with a banjo – no that he would want to mind you, he’s rather fussy about his banjo)
Meanwhile the pressure has been growing on our manager. After defeats at Chelsea and Arsenal the clamour on “West Ham fan’s” websites was reaching fever pitch with the demand to dump Zola. And by the time I write this he may well have been dumped by the new bosses or given up the ghost himself.
I’ve been disappointed by some of his team selections – to persist in putting Kovac in the team when you have most of your best players available is pretty unforgivable, but it would be disastrous to change the management at this late stage. Our fate will not be decided by who is in charge for these games but effectively by what results Hull, Burnley, Wigan and Wolves manage over the next few weeks. It is partly in our own hands but also in theirs. Quite soon Hull and Burnley have to play each other, and while we pray they will cancel each other out, the odds have to be on one of them getting a three points boost to lift themselves closer to us if they haven’t caught us already.
Should he survive to the end of the campaign I don’t suppose Gilbert and Sullivan will show Zola much sympathy at the end of this gruelling season and it will be our loss if he is forced out or made to feel he should quit.
Clearly Zola is still learning the ropes but in the long run, given proper support, he can deliver us not only the football we want to see but also the achievement it will merit. If ever there is a manager who will want to learn from his mistakes and make next season a much happier and more successful one all round it will be our little Italian job.
A final word to say thanks and goodbye to another of my Hammers heroes – Ludo Miklosko. What a brilliant servant of our club. I hope he wasn’t under pressure to go but made his own choice. Most of all I will remember the day he almost single handily prevented Man U from winning at Upton Park the day that Blackburn snatched the league title. You were a big man with even bigger hands. Good luck for the future, Ludo
Well today I’m going for 2-0 but don’t know if that is goals scored by the Hammers or red cards handed to Stoke! COYI!!!!
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