OLAS 473 December 20th 2009
You’ve got to be careful what you wish for. I was so carried away with rubbing my neighbour’s face in the fact that his beloved Spurs were 1-0 down to Wolves after just a few minutes last Saturday, that I momentarily forget that Wolves are actually our competitors at that wrong end of the table, not Spurs. I should have taken more notice of the chat I had earlier in the day with another mate who is a Spurs fan. He was not looking forward at all to the impending visit of Wolves. I told him not to be a numpty and blithely assured him that Defoe might get another five. So what happens by the end of the day? Spurs lose, which ought to be a cause for great celebration and much piss-taking, but so do we – also to a team within the sound of the Crossroads Motel. And we are back in the bottom three, about to face Bolton who had attacked Manchester City with great flair and were unlucky not to beat them.
I’m writing this before the Bolton game but I’m not expecting a team so low on confidence and person-power as West Ham are at the moment to get anything from that game. I will be fairly astonished if I am wrong.
It’s another few days yet until Christmas, but West Ham’s defence has been true to the Christmas spirit well before December came upon us, with more give-away goals than you could dream of. Any visitors to Upton Park have absolutely been showered with free gifts from our non-existent defence, often aided and abetted by the ineptitude of our midfielders getting caught in possession.
Being a West Ham fan with a beard and glasses, I was brought up with Hanukkah rather than Christmas and at the heart of the Hanukkah story is a miracle (all about oil for an everlasting light lasting eight days instead of just one – you don’t need to know the rest though it is pretty interesting). So, if its OK with the rest of you, I think we all ought to do Hanukkah rather than Christmas this year and hope that some of that miracle-juice flows for us, if not today, then at least sometime soon. Ok you’ll miss your turkey and your tree an your midnight mass, but you’ll get turned on to “latkes” and doughnuts and I can guarantee you can still have a miserable time with your family.
We have to be honest and admit that only a miracle will get us out of the dog-poo this time around. At the moment an impossibly heavy burden is being placed on the least experienced shoulders, depending on them to solve problems that they didn’t create. Earlier this season I wrote:
“I don’t think many clubs, even among the top four, can boast such a crop of talented youngsters coming through. They could turn us into a bit of a surprise package this season and help us pull off some unlikely results, or they could really struggle with their confidence if the early results go against us.”
No prizes for guessing which of those avenues we have driven down at reckless speed. I think we all really feel for the 18, 19 and 20 year olds who have been given their dream opportunity of playing for West Ham but without any scaffolding or support of any kind. They are trying their best, and Stanislas against Fulham and Hines against Villa won us some of our precious few points – but generally they are failing and they look bereft.
The club has been asset-stripped leaving us with positions on the field without any competent professionals to fill them. No wonder we find it well beyond our reach to string one result together, let alone two or three.
I’m still reeling from the Scott Duxbury interview in the last OLAS. Two sentences stand out. One, when he says “we don’t have to sell a single player that we don’t want to sell.” This is superficially very reassuring, but then you realise that what it really means is that any player is for sale, the club merely have to posit a rationalisation for doing so. And when it happens they will say “we wanted to sell this player because of….” and Zola will be bullied into nodding along with it.
The second sentence, which really took my breath away, was: “Gianfranco doesn’t want to add to the squad in January…bringing more players in will have an unsettling effect on the squad.”
Either Duxbury is lying or Gianfranco has no appreciation whatever of the parlous state we are in. As someone who absolutely and excitedly welcomed the little man’s appointment I would like to think it is the former. If it really is the latter, the situation is hopeless because this current squad is so much weaker in almost every department to the last squad that got relegated. Yes there are key players in our team currently out with injury – Upson, Cole, Behrami for starters, but that is why premiership teams have squads – so that there are more than 11 perfectly competent players at this level to choose from for each game. That is not something we can currently boast. We will need at least two decent additions to the side to have any chance of staying up. and we will need at least three from a long list of clubs - Portsmouth, Wolves, Hull, Blackburn, Wigan, Burnley, not to improve their squads more than us for it to make a difference.
Meanwhile today we have the not inconsequential matter of getting through the Chelsea match without making our goal difference dramatically worse. it must be tempting for Zola to pack the midfield and play defensively, but we will come unstuck as we did against Man U if we attempt that. The only way to attack the game is to do just that – to attack and to keep Chelsea on the back-foot as much as possible and we might get away with a narrow defeat. They know that goal difference works at both ends of the table, and if we give even a hint of collapsing they will take us to the cleaners big time – just like Man U did. You can’t blame Greenie for puking up during the Man U game. He spoke for us all.
In the evening of the Man U game I met up with this friend of mine called Steve visiting from abroad. He’s been out the country about 25 years. As we emailed each other to make the arrangement I explained that I would be coming from the West Ham game.“ Didn’t they use to be a football team?” he asked, rather astutely. “That’s right” I replied.
There are so many reasons to hate Chelsea. I was disappointed when I came across a website recently that listed just 59 reasons. A few examples are:
3) They give their 'fans' cheap plastic flags to wave to create an atmosphere because they can't by themselves.
4) Where were all the fans before Roman and his dodgy Russian Roubles?
28) Players that leave good honest clubs to go to Chelsea just to be greedy for all the fucking money and warm the bench thinking they are cool.
54) Selling Robinho shirts when they hadn't signed him.
Although their number 1 reason actually says it all:
“Cheating, Diving C*nts!!!”
The full list is available at: http://www.oleole.com/blogs/manchester-united-remain-in-hunt-for-lyon-star-karim-benzema-report-1/posts/talking--few-reasons-to-hate-chelsea-fc
A poet friend of mine writes that “all useful hate begins with self-hate” and I guess there are a good few self-hating West Ham fans out there these days. But today needs to be about something different.
We can’t match their roubles and we don’t want to match them with cheating and diving. But I’d dearly like to see us match them in playing with pride. I don’t care what the score is today I just want to feel at the end that we have played our hearts out for each other and for us the fans for 90 minutes, and given us some reason to feel proud of their efforts.
And I want to see Zola with a good reason to smile even if we lose.
Enjoy the game if you can! COYI!!!!!
Sunday, 20 December 2009
Averting a disaster
OLAS 472 December 5th 2009
It was an unsettling and unexpected image that appeared before my eyes just a few minutes before the game against Burnley kicked off. As I was about to leave the toilet a man came in holding his kid with one hand and his ketchup-sodden chips in paper in the other. His kid needed help to reach up high enough and the chips needed to be kept upright. He just about managed to avert a disaster…and for some odd reason this image reminds me of the game itself last week.
We found ourselves almost effortlessly 5-0 up on 65 minutes with barely a shot on target. Though Franco was unlucky with a brave header that hit the top of the bar with their goalie beaten, he hardly had a save to make or a difficult cross to contend with, but had to bring the ball out of the net five times. At 1-0 I felt less edgy, as Burnley were controlling the game at that stage. At 2-0 I was pleasantly surprised. I know many of you have been there with me when we’ve been 3-0 up at half time and come away with nothing. And on the basis that we were not exactly playing fluid and sparkling football, I wasn’t convinced this time that a three goal lead was going to be enough. so I didn’t feel comfortable until Franco netted the fourth on 52 minutes.
I relaxed, anticipating that the very worst that could happen would be that we would win 4-3. Sometimes it seems I know the team only too well. Anyway we all know what happened. We pissed on their chips by getting a fifth but then effectively threw our (ketchup-sodden) chips all over the toilet floor and said “go and have a few shots at our empty goal while we clear up.” They scored three and could have had more p all from very basic defensive errors and lack of awareness.
My mind drifted back to the legendary Malcolm Allison, the ex-West ham player renowned for the size of his cigar, or was it the size of the brim of his hat? In his management days a commentator asked him how his team had managed to pull off an unlikely victory. He replied, “We scored more goals than they did”. And I suppose in essence that’s what happened last week, because that is the only bit of the result I understand. We scored five goals, they scored three. End of.
And good goals they were too (ours that is). Quick thinking by Parker and a cool finish by Jack Collisson for the first. An even cooler finish by Junior Stan for the second, after a clever pass by Franco, a couple of penalties where fouls in the box were invited by perfectly weighted through balls, and great determination by Franco to get there first for his own much-deserved goal.
Last time round I commented that Parker doesn’t have the right temperament to be captain, but he was absolutely outstanding and led by example against Burnley for most of the game. Instead of doing those tidy 360-degree turns, coming away with the ball but going backwards or sideways, he went directly forwards at every opportunity to set up chances. But even he, with his immense performance, was unable to counteract the effect of those sleeping tablets on our defence during the last third of the game .
The performances around him though were something of a mixed bag. Franco and Cole worked well up front, Junior Stan had moments of creativity but was too easily blown off the ball; Collison worked hard but didn’t look comfortable on the right wing; Kojak had a solid first half, then played like a donkey in the second.
Meanwhile, Da Costa looked the most secure at the back, but one out of four defenders on task doesn’t leave a lot of cover for Greenie, and we were lucky to concede only three in that nervous final 25 minutes. We must consider ourselves especially fortunate that we weren’t having to play someone like Man U, though I can’t imagine them being obliging enough to let us ghost into a 5-0 lead in any case. My view is that we need to avoid them until we have sorted out the defence a little bit. Only the fixture fairy disagrees.
I noticed there were celebrations recently for the 20th anniversary of the Berlin Wall coming down – we could have done with borrowing a bit of that wall and placing it about 10 yards in front of our goal. We’ve been treated to some ropey defenders at West Ham over the years, going all the way back to Tommy Taylor – who looked comfortable with everything except a football at his feet - and not forgetting Gary Breen, Rigoberto Song, Gary Charles, Wayne Quinn, and the inimitable Christian Dailly. But they would have looked solid as a rock compared with our defenders towards the end of the game last week. It’s a case not so much of having gaps and holes as fucking craters. But maybe Man U will feel sorry for us and play for a draw. They always struck me as the kind and sentimental sort, especially that absolute sweetie, Wayne Rooney.
Last week, in my clumsy efforts to portray what the West Ham experience feels like at the moment I used the analogy of a circus, though in retrospect “fairground ride” would have probably been more accurate. Watching the game I felt like I was flitting between the rollercoaster, ghost train, screaming swing and the megadrop (though fortunately we were still on the rollercoaster at the end. Just.)
I honestly had no expectation of what would happen during that 90 minutes. And now having seen it I can’t begin to explain what really happened. Except at the end of the day we did get three points and reduce our goal difference, and we had five different players score for us, which will do a lot for their self-confidence.
I suspect we will see a tighter game today. Our hope for getting something out of this one and lifting ourselves further away from danger in the next few weeks lies in the confidence that comes from our ability to find the back of the net both home and away. But when confidence clashes against quality, any sane person would have to fancy quality. However, our free-scoring ways do suggest that we are never totally out of a game at the moment. Paradoxically, though, our lack of meaningful defensive skills, means that however free-scoring we are, victory is not assured. Which, I guess, means that should we find ourselves 5-0 up against Man U after 65 minutes, we might have to settle for a draw.
The more important date arises a few days after the Man U game – on December 11 by which time Straumur have to secure agreement from their creditors for the restructuring of their bank, and if we are not in the process of being sold by then we are in much more danger of just dropping chips down the toilet.
No point speculating, everyone out there in the media is doing lots of that already. But good to see, in terms of a longer –term plan, that Johnny Ballantyne is drawing our attention to the initial moves by Newcastle supporters to find a way out of the powerlessness that so many fans feel, to bring their club under the ownership of the fans. We know that we pump loads of cash into the club week on week and loyally support the players, we are the ones who live for the club but also give life to the club – and we are the ones who ought to be in control.
In school I’ve been doing some work with young kids (8 year olds) recently about what independence means for a country. I ask them “How do you know when a country is born?” They usually respond at first with bizarre geological answers about volcanoes and such like, but then they say things like, you have your own flag, you’ve got your own money, you make your own laws. I tell them that I think the day a country is born is the day everyone living in that country, old, young, male or female, black or white, newcomer, old-comer, can say: “This country belongs to me, this country belongs to all of us. I can participate, I have the power to help decide what happens in this country.” What would it take for us to feel that about West Ham? Can we make it happen?
Enjoy the game. For those of you into betting on correct scores I can absolutely guarantee it won’t be 0-0. Hope that helps you to your fortune and that our fortune today is not always hiding. COYI!!!!
It was an unsettling and unexpected image that appeared before my eyes just a few minutes before the game against Burnley kicked off. As I was about to leave the toilet a man came in holding his kid with one hand and his ketchup-sodden chips in paper in the other. His kid needed help to reach up high enough and the chips needed to be kept upright. He just about managed to avert a disaster…and for some odd reason this image reminds me of the game itself last week.
We found ourselves almost effortlessly 5-0 up on 65 minutes with barely a shot on target. Though Franco was unlucky with a brave header that hit the top of the bar with their goalie beaten, he hardly had a save to make or a difficult cross to contend with, but had to bring the ball out of the net five times. At 1-0 I felt less edgy, as Burnley were controlling the game at that stage. At 2-0 I was pleasantly surprised. I know many of you have been there with me when we’ve been 3-0 up at half time and come away with nothing. And on the basis that we were not exactly playing fluid and sparkling football, I wasn’t convinced this time that a three goal lead was going to be enough. so I didn’t feel comfortable until Franco netted the fourth on 52 minutes.
I relaxed, anticipating that the very worst that could happen would be that we would win 4-3. Sometimes it seems I know the team only too well. Anyway we all know what happened. We pissed on their chips by getting a fifth but then effectively threw our (ketchup-sodden) chips all over the toilet floor and said “go and have a few shots at our empty goal while we clear up.” They scored three and could have had more p all from very basic defensive errors and lack of awareness.
My mind drifted back to the legendary Malcolm Allison, the ex-West ham player renowned for the size of his cigar, or was it the size of the brim of his hat? In his management days a commentator asked him how his team had managed to pull off an unlikely victory. He replied, “We scored more goals than they did”. And I suppose in essence that’s what happened last week, because that is the only bit of the result I understand. We scored five goals, they scored three. End of.
And good goals they were too (ours that is). Quick thinking by Parker and a cool finish by Jack Collisson for the first. An even cooler finish by Junior Stan for the second, after a clever pass by Franco, a couple of penalties where fouls in the box were invited by perfectly weighted through balls, and great determination by Franco to get there first for his own much-deserved goal.
Last time round I commented that Parker doesn’t have the right temperament to be captain, but he was absolutely outstanding and led by example against Burnley for most of the game. Instead of doing those tidy 360-degree turns, coming away with the ball but going backwards or sideways, he went directly forwards at every opportunity to set up chances. But even he, with his immense performance, was unable to counteract the effect of those sleeping tablets on our defence during the last third of the game .
The performances around him though were something of a mixed bag. Franco and Cole worked well up front, Junior Stan had moments of creativity but was too easily blown off the ball; Collison worked hard but didn’t look comfortable on the right wing; Kojak had a solid first half, then played like a donkey in the second.
Meanwhile, Da Costa looked the most secure at the back, but one out of four defenders on task doesn’t leave a lot of cover for Greenie, and we were lucky to concede only three in that nervous final 25 minutes. We must consider ourselves especially fortunate that we weren’t having to play someone like Man U, though I can’t imagine them being obliging enough to let us ghost into a 5-0 lead in any case. My view is that we need to avoid them until we have sorted out the defence a little bit. Only the fixture fairy disagrees.
I noticed there were celebrations recently for the 20th anniversary of the Berlin Wall coming down – we could have done with borrowing a bit of that wall and placing it about 10 yards in front of our goal. We’ve been treated to some ropey defenders at West Ham over the years, going all the way back to Tommy Taylor – who looked comfortable with everything except a football at his feet - and not forgetting Gary Breen, Rigoberto Song, Gary Charles, Wayne Quinn, and the inimitable Christian Dailly. But they would have looked solid as a rock compared with our defenders towards the end of the game last week. It’s a case not so much of having gaps and holes as fucking craters. But maybe Man U will feel sorry for us and play for a draw. They always struck me as the kind and sentimental sort, especially that absolute sweetie, Wayne Rooney.
Last week, in my clumsy efforts to portray what the West Ham experience feels like at the moment I used the analogy of a circus, though in retrospect “fairground ride” would have probably been more accurate. Watching the game I felt like I was flitting between the rollercoaster, ghost train, screaming swing and the megadrop (though fortunately we were still on the rollercoaster at the end. Just.)
I honestly had no expectation of what would happen during that 90 minutes. And now having seen it I can’t begin to explain what really happened. Except at the end of the day we did get three points and reduce our goal difference, and we had five different players score for us, which will do a lot for their self-confidence.
I suspect we will see a tighter game today. Our hope for getting something out of this one and lifting ourselves further away from danger in the next few weeks lies in the confidence that comes from our ability to find the back of the net both home and away. But when confidence clashes against quality, any sane person would have to fancy quality. However, our free-scoring ways do suggest that we are never totally out of a game at the moment. Paradoxically, though, our lack of meaningful defensive skills, means that however free-scoring we are, victory is not assured. Which, I guess, means that should we find ourselves 5-0 up against Man U after 65 minutes, we might have to settle for a draw.
The more important date arises a few days after the Man U game – on December 11 by which time Straumur have to secure agreement from their creditors for the restructuring of their bank, and if we are not in the process of being sold by then we are in much more danger of just dropping chips down the toilet.
No point speculating, everyone out there in the media is doing lots of that already. But good to see, in terms of a longer –term plan, that Johnny Ballantyne is drawing our attention to the initial moves by Newcastle supporters to find a way out of the powerlessness that so many fans feel, to bring their club under the ownership of the fans. We know that we pump loads of cash into the club week on week and loyally support the players, we are the ones who live for the club but also give life to the club – and we are the ones who ought to be in control.
In school I’ve been doing some work with young kids (8 year olds) recently about what independence means for a country. I ask them “How do you know when a country is born?” They usually respond at first with bizarre geological answers about volcanoes and such like, but then they say things like, you have your own flag, you’ve got your own money, you make your own laws. I tell them that I think the day a country is born is the day everyone living in that country, old, young, male or female, black or white, newcomer, old-comer, can say: “This country belongs to me, this country belongs to all of us. I can participate, I have the power to help decide what happens in this country.” What would it take for us to feel that about West Ham? Can we make it happen?
Enjoy the game. For those of you into betting on correct scores I can absolutely guarantee it won’t be 0-0. Hope that helps you to your fortune and that our fortune today is not always hiding. COYI!!!!
What is to be done?
OLAS 471 November 28th 2009
The plans for building a new stadium have gone rather quiet. But when they are revived no doubt we will be promised one of those soulless, state of the art, bowl-shaped structures, with standardised seating all tastefully coloured in claret and blue, and every naff corporate touch you could imagine. And toilets fit or human beings? Naturally.
I have a simpler suggestion – it’s called “The Big Top” first developed apparently by an American called J Purdy Brown. Because that is what we seem to be fit for at Upton Park. Clowns are supposed to make you laugh with their clumsy lolloping feet and their exaggerated klutz-like behaviour; superannuated professional footballers are not. But can anyone honestly say that recent performances, especially away from home, where we have thrown away 2-0 leads twice in succession and then failed on both occasion to win these games against 10 men, are anything other than the stuff of clowns whose natural home is not a football stadium but a circus tent?
I’ve been a loyal supporter of the Zola Revolution and am still a believer, but I am starting now to get just a little tired of hearing vacuous garbage such as: “it was a strange game”, or “it was a crazy game’. I think we need to face the grim truth and have a solid and thought-out strategy for dealing with it that goes beyond what he and Steve Clarke have already attempted and, so far this season, failed miserably with.
The fight-back against Arsenal and the crucial win over Aston Villa seemed to indicate we might be approaching a turning point, but the pathetic collapse to a very ordinary Everton reserve side, and the farce of handing a lifeline to Hull City, one of the poorest teams in the league – to the extent that we needed to conjure the equaliser to rescue a draw – suggest that we have not reached that turning point yet.
Everyone likes to look for positives. We scored three goals away from home; Carlton Cole is back (even if he has forgotten which end he needs to head the ball into); Da Costa scored a neat goal; the weather wasn’t too bad… (help me, please, I’m running out of positives). But I do think we have to face up to how bad it is sooner rather than later.
I’m quite expecting our circus-like goings on to continue at least up to Christmas. We may win or draw a game or two along the way but if we continue to “defend” in the manner we have done so far this season, we are also likely to suffer some very heavy defeats (especially to Man U and Chelsea) which will seriously affect our goal difference – and in the scramble at the bottom goal difference may be a decisive factor (Wigan take note).
So what is to be done? Well, here’s a little mantra for our back four to start chanting: “Giving away free kicks just outside our penalty area is not big and not clever. Don’t do it.”
Perhaps our defenders should remove the SBOBET logo from their shirts and replace with “FRAGILE: Do not shake. Handle with care. Keep upright” because they are showing serious signs that they just can’t cope. Faubert was unlucky with the penalty decision but he plainly does not know how to defend. Slow-motion Gabbidon looks a shadow of the player he once was. Upson looks about as interested and motivated as my cat when it’s shagged out and sleeping on the washing pile. He also shouldn’t be captaining the team (that’s Upson not my cat) as he shows no leadership or inspirational qualities. And if he’s not sure what “inspirational” means he should think about what ex-hammer Jimmy Bullard meant to Hull last week. Upson was very lucky not to have been responsible for handing Hull a fourth goal because his challenge on a Hull forward near the end of the game was a far more obvious penalty than the one the ref had already given.
This time last year I was mightily relieved that the irrepressibly boring Curbishley had been dumped. And quite rightly too. Despite the lack of many points on the board by the end of October I had faith and optimism that what Zola and Clarke were doing would pay off in the longer run.
Of course I don’t want Curbs or anyone like him back here but I have to admit that I’ve run out of optimism and faith – and patience. I have no expectations at all of us progressing, just a faint hope that a few teams will struggle even more than us and by some miracle we survive. I have no idea what Zola and Clarke are expected to achieve with the piss-poor squad we have. Selling our better players and either not replacing them or bringing in injury prone dodos or second rate Italians from Serie B, cannot do anything but weaken us. We are seriously missing James Collins, and don’t tell anyone you heard me say this, but we are missing Lucas Neill too.
For the first time in more than four decades of following West Ham I am craving a really boring 1-0 win, followed by another excruciatingly boring 1-0 win. Six points and two clean sheets would do wonders wouldn’t it? How to do it I don’t know because, in order for that to happen, we need to playing teams of our level – like Grimsby or Darlington. I’m not sure that Burnley fit the bill and as for Man U…
We have literally taken our eye off the ball. While we were focussed on how lightweight we were up front, with Deano permanently crocked (like we just noticed) Keiron Dyer almost permanently crocked, and Bellamy long gone, we hadn’t noticed the huge hole that had been dug in our defence especially around the right back position. I think we have all been surprised that given our lack of any natural goalscorers, we have actually managed to score 19 goals in our 13 league games to date and that 9 different players have found the net for us. While a proven goalscorer would be a welcome arrival in January, the key areas that have to be strengthened if we are to give ourselves the best chance of survival must be the full back positions. There is no adequate cover for Ilunga, who hopefully will come back soon from injury, and we have no right back. Any club with speedy or tricky wingers will want to play us every week.
Of course any speculation about what might happen in January must rest on some mugs investing in the “going concern” that West Ham masquerades as. The likely scenario if we are not taken over is not nice. It is total meltdown…which kind of means that the players have to somehow lift themselves to get results in the next few weeks so that not only will someone out there want to buy us but that players may want to come here to build an exciting and successful future for themselves. I’m trying hard here to remain positive but to be honest I can’t even convince myself.
Back on the pitch, I don’t think we will be able to hold on to Upson in January (even though he is playing poorly). He wants to maintain his England place to go to South Africa next summer and he won’t do that in a defence that is shipping at least two goals every week. So we need to be thinking now of who will be the next captain. To many supporters, Scotty Parker might seem the obvious choice but I don’t think his temperament is right. He may be a tidy and skilful player but he gets booked very frequently and has tantrums. What he’ll be like when he turns three years old I don’t know. A year or two back I could imagine Mark Noble being groomed for the role of captain but his progress seems to have halted, and though I have not heard that he is injured he was left out of the Everton game and didn’t make the squad against Villa. has he had a big falling out with management?
There are two players that currently show the potential for leadership on the pitch although both will no doubt be targets for the poachers and vultures in January and we will need to work hard to persuade them not to jump ship. They are Jack Collisson and Valon Behrami. Keep both of them and make one the captain and we may have a chance of staying up and even climbing the table.
In the meantime enjoy the game today. Accept that whichever team gets the second goal might not win. Look out for jugglers and tightrope walkers and Faubert the Clown. COYI!!!!
The plans for building a new stadium have gone rather quiet. But when they are revived no doubt we will be promised one of those soulless, state of the art, bowl-shaped structures, with standardised seating all tastefully coloured in claret and blue, and every naff corporate touch you could imagine. And toilets fit or human beings? Naturally.
I have a simpler suggestion – it’s called “The Big Top” first developed apparently by an American called J Purdy Brown. Because that is what we seem to be fit for at Upton Park. Clowns are supposed to make you laugh with their clumsy lolloping feet and their exaggerated klutz-like behaviour; superannuated professional footballers are not. But can anyone honestly say that recent performances, especially away from home, where we have thrown away 2-0 leads twice in succession and then failed on both occasion to win these games against 10 men, are anything other than the stuff of clowns whose natural home is not a football stadium but a circus tent?
I’ve been a loyal supporter of the Zola Revolution and am still a believer, but I am starting now to get just a little tired of hearing vacuous garbage such as: “it was a strange game”, or “it was a crazy game’. I think we need to face the grim truth and have a solid and thought-out strategy for dealing with it that goes beyond what he and Steve Clarke have already attempted and, so far this season, failed miserably with.
The fight-back against Arsenal and the crucial win over Aston Villa seemed to indicate we might be approaching a turning point, but the pathetic collapse to a very ordinary Everton reserve side, and the farce of handing a lifeline to Hull City, one of the poorest teams in the league – to the extent that we needed to conjure the equaliser to rescue a draw – suggest that we have not reached that turning point yet.
Everyone likes to look for positives. We scored three goals away from home; Carlton Cole is back (even if he has forgotten which end he needs to head the ball into); Da Costa scored a neat goal; the weather wasn’t too bad… (help me, please, I’m running out of positives). But I do think we have to face up to how bad it is sooner rather than later.
I’m quite expecting our circus-like goings on to continue at least up to Christmas. We may win or draw a game or two along the way but if we continue to “defend” in the manner we have done so far this season, we are also likely to suffer some very heavy defeats (especially to Man U and Chelsea) which will seriously affect our goal difference – and in the scramble at the bottom goal difference may be a decisive factor (Wigan take note).
So what is to be done? Well, here’s a little mantra for our back four to start chanting: “Giving away free kicks just outside our penalty area is not big and not clever. Don’t do it.”
Perhaps our defenders should remove the SBOBET logo from their shirts and replace with “FRAGILE: Do not shake. Handle with care. Keep upright” because they are showing serious signs that they just can’t cope. Faubert was unlucky with the penalty decision but he plainly does not know how to defend. Slow-motion Gabbidon looks a shadow of the player he once was. Upson looks about as interested and motivated as my cat when it’s shagged out and sleeping on the washing pile. He also shouldn’t be captaining the team (that’s Upson not my cat) as he shows no leadership or inspirational qualities. And if he’s not sure what “inspirational” means he should think about what ex-hammer Jimmy Bullard meant to Hull last week. Upson was very lucky not to have been responsible for handing Hull a fourth goal because his challenge on a Hull forward near the end of the game was a far more obvious penalty than the one the ref had already given.
This time last year I was mightily relieved that the irrepressibly boring Curbishley had been dumped. And quite rightly too. Despite the lack of many points on the board by the end of October I had faith and optimism that what Zola and Clarke were doing would pay off in the longer run.
Of course I don’t want Curbs or anyone like him back here but I have to admit that I’ve run out of optimism and faith – and patience. I have no expectations at all of us progressing, just a faint hope that a few teams will struggle even more than us and by some miracle we survive. I have no idea what Zola and Clarke are expected to achieve with the piss-poor squad we have. Selling our better players and either not replacing them or bringing in injury prone dodos or second rate Italians from Serie B, cannot do anything but weaken us. We are seriously missing James Collins, and don’t tell anyone you heard me say this, but we are missing Lucas Neill too.
For the first time in more than four decades of following West Ham I am craving a really boring 1-0 win, followed by another excruciatingly boring 1-0 win. Six points and two clean sheets would do wonders wouldn’t it? How to do it I don’t know because, in order for that to happen, we need to playing teams of our level – like Grimsby or Darlington. I’m not sure that Burnley fit the bill and as for Man U…
We have literally taken our eye off the ball. While we were focussed on how lightweight we were up front, with Deano permanently crocked (like we just noticed) Keiron Dyer almost permanently crocked, and Bellamy long gone, we hadn’t noticed the huge hole that had been dug in our defence especially around the right back position. I think we have all been surprised that given our lack of any natural goalscorers, we have actually managed to score 19 goals in our 13 league games to date and that 9 different players have found the net for us. While a proven goalscorer would be a welcome arrival in January, the key areas that have to be strengthened if we are to give ourselves the best chance of survival must be the full back positions. There is no adequate cover for Ilunga, who hopefully will come back soon from injury, and we have no right back. Any club with speedy or tricky wingers will want to play us every week.
Of course any speculation about what might happen in January must rest on some mugs investing in the “going concern” that West Ham masquerades as. The likely scenario if we are not taken over is not nice. It is total meltdown…which kind of means that the players have to somehow lift themselves to get results in the next few weeks so that not only will someone out there want to buy us but that players may want to come here to build an exciting and successful future for themselves. I’m trying hard here to remain positive but to be honest I can’t even convince myself.
Back on the pitch, I don’t think we will be able to hold on to Upson in January (even though he is playing poorly). He wants to maintain his England place to go to South Africa next summer and he won’t do that in a defence that is shipping at least two goals every week. So we need to be thinking now of who will be the next captain. To many supporters, Scotty Parker might seem the obvious choice but I don’t think his temperament is right. He may be a tidy and skilful player but he gets booked very frequently and has tantrums. What he’ll be like when he turns three years old I don’t know. A year or two back I could imagine Mark Noble being groomed for the role of captain but his progress seems to have halted, and though I have not heard that he is injured he was left out of the Everton game and didn’t make the squad against Villa. has he had a big falling out with management?
There are two players that currently show the potential for leadership on the pitch although both will no doubt be targets for the poachers and vultures in January and we will need to work hard to persuade them not to jump ship. They are Jack Collisson and Valon Behrami. Keep both of them and make one the captain and we may have a chance of staying up and even climbing the table.
In the meantime enjoy the game today. Accept that whichever team gets the second goal might not win. Look out for jugglers and tightrope walkers and Faubert the Clown. COYI!!!!
Walking on air
OLAS 470 November 8th 2009
So fortune doesn’t always hide. Sometimes it favours the brave – and we will see few performances this year as brave as the one on Wednesday night when we should have got mullered by a superior Villa team. A coolly taken penalty just before half time by Mark Noble gave us an unlikely lead in a game in which we were being outthought, outmuscled and thoroughly outplayed. Not surprising since we had lost two key players to injury early in the match. When Villa were generously handed a penalty three minutes after the break the omens did not look good but Greeny made a miraculous save. He may show more fear of crosses than your average vampire at the moment, but he also made two stupendous saves to keep us in the game n the first 45 and added a couple more in the last 45.
His penalty stop was only respite though – a few minutes later he was clutching air as Ashley young’s wonder strike hit the roof of the net. But we refused to lie down and die and the second period was much more even. West Ham never lost hope and when Villa were reduced to 10 men we sniffed an inconceivable victory. No one deserved the winner more than Zavon who had played magnificently substituting for Carlton. He chased every lost cause, gave defenders a torrid time and won the penalty as well as conjuring the winner.
There were a few other heroes out there as well. Behrami and Collisson were magnificent using power and skill to drive us forward. Da Costa had a shaky first half but was a tower of strength in the second. And little Scotty Parker did not want to be on the losing team and didn’t stop running. We kept our shape and our spirit and, against the odds, got our reward.
I hope Zola had a peaceful, sweet sleep before he had to wake up to the stark reality of our rapidly thinning squad shedding more bodies. At this rate he’s going to have to raise Ashton from his slumber, give him a couple of crutches and tell him to get out there.
More hammer blows arrived with the news that Alan Curbishley won his case for constructive dismissal. I hope we pleaded guilty as fuck. Yes he was stitched up and encouraged to go – because he was boring and shite, and Alan, even if you pick up a couple of million we can ill afford, you still can’t buy a personality. According to the papers Hull are interested in him. They deserve each other.
Still Wednesday night belonged to West Ham and its ever loyal fans – an unforgettable night, to set us up nicely for the visit of Everton.
It was at a West Ham versus Everton match rather than through some strange druggie experience or an experiment with levitation that I first discovered what the term “walking on air” meant. We’re going back a few years now to 1980 and the cup semi final replay at Elland Road - at that time home ground of a cheating, boring but successful top league side called “Leeds”. Remember them? Now they top the same league that contains Leyton Orient, Milton Keynes Dons, Yeovil (need I go on? Ha ha ha! – the harder they come the harder they fall, one and all).
Anyway, back to the Everton game. We had been fortunate to secure a replay as Everton had the better of the first game at Villa Park and deservedly took the lead through Brian Kidd but we came back pressing hard for an equaliser and Clever Trevor laid one on for Stuart Pearson. If I remember rightly there was a couple of sending offs but my only other real memory of the first game, played at Villa Park, was of a little toerag of a Villa supporter running off with my West Ham scarf which was hanging out of our car window as we stopped at lights near the ground. He’s probably about 40 years old now and I hope he feels thoroughly ashamed of himself and that his act of wanton theft brought some suitably bad karma (eg Wednesday night’s result!)
While we were struggling to get back into the game, the other semi-final was taking place – Arsenal v Man U – so even if we won we had a mountain to climb at Wembley. Arsenal got the better of Man U that day and we went on to the replay at Elland Road with the prospect of a London derby cup final. A whole division below – few gave us a chance.
Leeds - the town - was a place I was very familiar with at the time. I had spent three happy baked beans, curry and beer-consuming years at university there between 1976 and ’79, watched West Ham there a couple of times (we won once!) and spent many a Saturday outside rather than inside their ground leafleting against the National Front/BNP who had a big and ugly presence there at the time. As well as attempting to twist the minds of impressionable youngsters living hard lives, against some of their fellow citizens purely on the colour of their skin, they also engaged in violent unprovoked attacks on those they saw as opponents. One night they turned up on the university campus and randomly attacked a student with a fire extinguisher leaving him with a fractured skull. On another occasion a maths lecturer, known to them for his anti-fascist activities was attacked with a broken glass while drinking in a pub, and nearly lost an eye. Young Asians in the town were frequently abused and attacked. Eventually the police came down on them and several of their street fighters ended up doing time.
Their gang was led by particularly scary and rather gaunt guy, strangely called Steve Gaunt. I was always curious what happened to him, and found out many years later that he had hired himself out as a mercenary to Croatia during the wars of the former Yugoslavia and managed to get his foot blown off. Doing a bit of googling it appears that nearly 30 years on he is still posting on the websites of far right loons who believe that some members of the human race are less than human, which suggests that my inkling that his brains were located mainly in his feet, might have been spot on.
I met up with some of my mates from the Leeds days recently and we got talking about Steve Gaunt. After I told them about the fate of his foot, my mate Dave, quite deadpan, says, “Well, I guess he needs only one jackboot these days!”
Anyway, back the Everton game. The atmosphere in Elland Road that night was electric and the game was completely end-to-end. But After 90 minutes the teams could not be separated. As we reached the end of the second period of extra time there had been a goal apiece – Bob Latchford headed in for Everton and Alan Devonshire scored a gem for the hammers. The last player anyone would have imagined would win the game with a header was our left back – the original Frankie Lampard - but that’s what happened in the 118th minute and he ran straight for the corner flag to engage in a bizarre celebration ritual. We counted down the seconds, the whistle blew, and we were at Wembley! (Well, actually we were still in Leeds, but you know what I mean).
It was coming back to Leeds Station that I experienced walking on air. I just couldn’t feel my feet touching the ground; it felt like we floated all the way. There were terrible problems on the line on the way back and we were held in no-man’s-land for ages, pulling into Kings Cross around five in the morning – but hey, who cares, we were going to Wembley, where we famously beat Arsenal 1-0 to win the cup.
What’s the odds on one of our defenders heading in the winning goal this afternoon (in the right end)? Me, I’d settle for any Hammer putting in the winner, even Ashton with his crutch. COYI!!!!!
So fortune doesn’t always hide. Sometimes it favours the brave – and we will see few performances this year as brave as the one on Wednesday night when we should have got mullered by a superior Villa team. A coolly taken penalty just before half time by Mark Noble gave us an unlikely lead in a game in which we were being outthought, outmuscled and thoroughly outplayed. Not surprising since we had lost two key players to injury early in the match. When Villa were generously handed a penalty three minutes after the break the omens did not look good but Greeny made a miraculous save. He may show more fear of crosses than your average vampire at the moment, but he also made two stupendous saves to keep us in the game n the first 45 and added a couple more in the last 45.
His penalty stop was only respite though – a few minutes later he was clutching air as Ashley young’s wonder strike hit the roof of the net. But we refused to lie down and die and the second period was much more even. West Ham never lost hope and when Villa were reduced to 10 men we sniffed an inconceivable victory. No one deserved the winner more than Zavon who had played magnificently substituting for Carlton. He chased every lost cause, gave defenders a torrid time and won the penalty as well as conjuring the winner.
There were a few other heroes out there as well. Behrami and Collisson were magnificent using power and skill to drive us forward. Da Costa had a shaky first half but was a tower of strength in the second. And little Scotty Parker did not want to be on the losing team and didn’t stop running. We kept our shape and our spirit and, against the odds, got our reward.
I hope Zola had a peaceful, sweet sleep before he had to wake up to the stark reality of our rapidly thinning squad shedding more bodies. At this rate he’s going to have to raise Ashton from his slumber, give him a couple of crutches and tell him to get out there.
More hammer blows arrived with the news that Alan Curbishley won his case for constructive dismissal. I hope we pleaded guilty as fuck. Yes he was stitched up and encouraged to go – because he was boring and shite, and Alan, even if you pick up a couple of million we can ill afford, you still can’t buy a personality. According to the papers Hull are interested in him. They deserve each other.
Still Wednesday night belonged to West Ham and its ever loyal fans – an unforgettable night, to set us up nicely for the visit of Everton.
It was at a West Ham versus Everton match rather than through some strange druggie experience or an experiment with levitation that I first discovered what the term “walking on air” meant. We’re going back a few years now to 1980 and the cup semi final replay at Elland Road - at that time home ground of a cheating, boring but successful top league side called “Leeds”. Remember them? Now they top the same league that contains Leyton Orient, Milton Keynes Dons, Yeovil (need I go on? Ha ha ha! – the harder they come the harder they fall, one and all).
Anyway, back to the Everton game. We had been fortunate to secure a replay as Everton had the better of the first game at Villa Park and deservedly took the lead through Brian Kidd but we came back pressing hard for an equaliser and Clever Trevor laid one on for Stuart Pearson. If I remember rightly there was a couple of sending offs but my only other real memory of the first game, played at Villa Park, was of a little toerag of a Villa supporter running off with my West Ham scarf which was hanging out of our car window as we stopped at lights near the ground. He’s probably about 40 years old now and I hope he feels thoroughly ashamed of himself and that his act of wanton theft brought some suitably bad karma (eg Wednesday night’s result!)
While we were struggling to get back into the game, the other semi-final was taking place – Arsenal v Man U – so even if we won we had a mountain to climb at Wembley. Arsenal got the better of Man U that day and we went on to the replay at Elland Road with the prospect of a London derby cup final. A whole division below – few gave us a chance.
Leeds - the town - was a place I was very familiar with at the time. I had spent three happy baked beans, curry and beer-consuming years at university there between 1976 and ’79, watched West Ham there a couple of times (we won once!) and spent many a Saturday outside rather than inside their ground leafleting against the National Front/BNP who had a big and ugly presence there at the time. As well as attempting to twist the minds of impressionable youngsters living hard lives, against some of their fellow citizens purely on the colour of their skin, they also engaged in violent unprovoked attacks on those they saw as opponents. One night they turned up on the university campus and randomly attacked a student with a fire extinguisher leaving him with a fractured skull. On another occasion a maths lecturer, known to them for his anti-fascist activities was attacked with a broken glass while drinking in a pub, and nearly lost an eye. Young Asians in the town were frequently abused and attacked. Eventually the police came down on them and several of their street fighters ended up doing time.
Their gang was led by particularly scary and rather gaunt guy, strangely called Steve Gaunt. I was always curious what happened to him, and found out many years later that he had hired himself out as a mercenary to Croatia during the wars of the former Yugoslavia and managed to get his foot blown off. Doing a bit of googling it appears that nearly 30 years on he is still posting on the websites of far right loons who believe that some members of the human race are less than human, which suggests that my inkling that his brains were located mainly in his feet, might have been spot on.
I met up with some of my mates from the Leeds days recently and we got talking about Steve Gaunt. After I told them about the fate of his foot, my mate Dave, quite deadpan, says, “Well, I guess he needs only one jackboot these days!”
Anyway, back the Everton game. The atmosphere in Elland Road that night was electric and the game was completely end-to-end. But After 90 minutes the teams could not be separated. As we reached the end of the second period of extra time there had been a goal apiece – Bob Latchford headed in for Everton and Alan Devonshire scored a gem for the hammers. The last player anyone would have imagined would win the game with a header was our left back – the original Frankie Lampard - but that’s what happened in the 118th minute and he ran straight for the corner flag to engage in a bizarre celebration ritual. We counted down the seconds, the whistle blew, and we were at Wembley! (Well, actually we were still in Leeds, but you know what I mean).
It was coming back to Leeds Station that I experienced walking on air. I just couldn’t feel my feet touching the ground; it felt like we floated all the way. There were terrible problems on the line on the way back and we were held in no-man’s-land for ages, pulling into Kings Cross around five in the morning – but hey, who cares, we were going to Wembley, where we famously beat Arsenal 1-0 to win the cup.
What’s the odds on one of our defenders heading in the winning goal this afternoon (in the right end)? Me, I’d settle for any Hammer putting in the winner, even Ashton with his crutch. COYI!!!!!
All you need is glove
OLAS 469 4th November 2009
Change is in the air. My heart feels warmer but my hands feel colder. I was aware of the change in temperature a couple of weeks ago. The slightly arthritic joints in my thumbs are my barometer and for a couple of weeks now they have begun to ache. Arthritis is notoriously responsive to temperature shifts. Still I figured I could pick up some West Ham gloves on one of the stalls near the ground on the way to the Arsenal game. No such luck. The stallholders told me it’s not cold enough. It’s a strange conception of business where they don’t sell what the customer wants because they don’t feel as cold as the customer. It’s a bit like going out on a rainy day in search of an umbrella and the shopkeeper or stallholder saying, “No we don’t stock them it’s perfectly dry in here.” No wonder Britain’s economy is going down the tubes. Never mind, because as I said it is feeling so much warmer in my heart.
Even if it wasn’t a victory it certainly felt like one. And to see Whinger pacing up and down like Mr Bean and looking so annoyed and frustrated and depressed emphasised that he saw it as points lost to us. It has been a while since we have shown the character to come back from the brink of defeat but the 2-2 draw against Arsenal should herald a turning point in our torrid season.
After giving fair warning in the first 15 minutes that we were not going down without a fight. Arsenal gradually assumed control. Though they barely deserved to be 2-0 up at half-time, the scoreboard doesn’t lie and it looked like we had a mountain to climb. Fortunately for us Arsenal are a bunch of arrogant tossers and just when they thought they were toying with us and casually seeing out the minutes until their victory was confirmed we came storming back.
Had Parker not been sent off when he was the one being fouled, I think we would have gone on to snatch a winner. Arsenal’s defence was completely rattled and we were riding the little bit of fortune that helped us back into it. You wouldn’t envy any keeper trying to keep out Diamanti’s free kick but Vito Mannone managed to push it right into the danger area where Carlton was quick witted and brave enough to get his head down to it.
With four minutes injury time being added we had to see out what seemed an eternity with our 10 men against the full 11 of one of the Europe’s top teams. That Arsenal failed was down to two factors – Robert Green with a wonder save to compensate for being at fault on the two goals; and the true fighting qualities of our team when they were undeservedly up against it.
In those last few minutes I felt more proud of the team than I have all season. They worked for and covered each other with absolute commitment and still tried, with the numbers against us, to go forward in search of a winner.
I thought for once we would see a fair representation of our display on Match of the Day. Silly me. Apart from our two goals all they showed were Arsenal’s attacking moves, yet the match stats show pretty even numbers of shots and corners. Between the tossers on MOTD and the morons who think it will boost ratings to hand free air space on Question Time to those who would deny free speech to everyone they disapproved of, if they ever got a sniff of power, BBC1 is not my favourite channel at the moment.
A few players deserve special mention both for positive and negative reasons. At half time I told my mate that our only hope of getting back into the match was getting Noble off and Diaminti on and this conversation took about 10 minutes to filter down from the Doc Marten’s Upper to our chirpy Italian coach. If the game started to shift back to us when an aggressive and tricky player like Diamanti came on, how much more so when Hines joined the fray, with his pace and willingness to run at defenders. Our desire to fight for every ball and drive ourselves forward meant that many times in the first half, even after going behind, we were winning corners and also free kicks which enabled us to float the ball into their danger area – and pretty much each one was wasted by Noble. I’ve been a big fan of his, when others have got on his back, but he seemed to be seriously lacking in confidence and ideas.
Which made it all the more surprising that he Noble kept his place in the starting line up at Sunderland, though to be fair, from what I saw of the game on Match of the Day, his game had picked up. Also back to his very best was Jack Collison who was the provider for both the goals and who worked his plums off during the Arsenal game.
When we went two goals up at Sunderland in 36 minutes the effect of the comeback against Arsenal was evident, and both goals were taken with great aplomb. Franco showed strength and speed to get to Collison’s low cross when challenged by two defenders and Cole took the ball in his stride beautifully before despatching it without any hesitation. You have to give Sunderland credit for their fight-back in the same way that we earned it a week earlier. They had won four on the trot at home and last time out beat Liverpool. They are building a good side and deserve their place in the top half, so a 2-2 result at the end was perhaps disappointing given that we had been two up but probably fair to the efforts of both teams. And more importantly suggested that we have broken the habit of losing.
It seems that 2-2 is our signature at the moment, with three of our last four league outings ending in that score. More like this and we will stop being known as “The Hammers’ and be renamed “The Desmonds”.
Now we have two home games in the space of a few days to prove that we have turned the corner, though the opponents in both will undoubtedly be tough. Aston Villa and Everton drew with each other at the weekend. Both have an abundance of skilful players. First up it’s Villa for whom Ashley Young and Gabriel Agbonlahor always stand out. And of course it’s the return of the Ginger Pele who has made an excellent start at his new club. He will know Carlton Cole’s game inside out, which is why will need something a little extra to unnerve the Villa rearguard. To me, that makes the case for starting with Zavon and bringing on Franco as reinforcement later in the game if necessary. I’d be tempted to start with Diamanti instead of Noble too, despite Nobes improvement at the Reebok, as he adds a bit more power, unpredictability and imagination to the line up and can really deliver in dead-ball situations. A big game under the floodlights where three points would truly make a difference. And as Desmond 2-2 said:
“I never doubted that ultimately we were going to be free, because ultimately, I knew there was no way in which a lie could prevail over the truth, darkness over light, death over life.”
Let’s prove it tonight. Get out there and get at them. All we are looking for is truth, life, freedom and a 3-1 scoreline. COYI!!!!!!!
Change is in the air. My heart feels warmer but my hands feel colder. I was aware of the change in temperature a couple of weeks ago. The slightly arthritic joints in my thumbs are my barometer and for a couple of weeks now they have begun to ache. Arthritis is notoriously responsive to temperature shifts. Still I figured I could pick up some West Ham gloves on one of the stalls near the ground on the way to the Arsenal game. No such luck. The stallholders told me it’s not cold enough. It’s a strange conception of business where they don’t sell what the customer wants because they don’t feel as cold as the customer. It’s a bit like going out on a rainy day in search of an umbrella and the shopkeeper or stallholder saying, “No we don’t stock them it’s perfectly dry in here.” No wonder Britain’s economy is going down the tubes. Never mind, because as I said it is feeling so much warmer in my heart.
Even if it wasn’t a victory it certainly felt like one. And to see Whinger pacing up and down like Mr Bean and looking so annoyed and frustrated and depressed emphasised that he saw it as points lost to us. It has been a while since we have shown the character to come back from the brink of defeat but the 2-2 draw against Arsenal should herald a turning point in our torrid season.
After giving fair warning in the first 15 minutes that we were not going down without a fight. Arsenal gradually assumed control. Though they barely deserved to be 2-0 up at half-time, the scoreboard doesn’t lie and it looked like we had a mountain to climb. Fortunately for us Arsenal are a bunch of arrogant tossers and just when they thought they were toying with us and casually seeing out the minutes until their victory was confirmed we came storming back.
Had Parker not been sent off when he was the one being fouled, I think we would have gone on to snatch a winner. Arsenal’s defence was completely rattled and we were riding the little bit of fortune that helped us back into it. You wouldn’t envy any keeper trying to keep out Diamanti’s free kick but Vito Mannone managed to push it right into the danger area where Carlton was quick witted and brave enough to get his head down to it.
With four minutes injury time being added we had to see out what seemed an eternity with our 10 men against the full 11 of one of the Europe’s top teams. That Arsenal failed was down to two factors – Robert Green with a wonder save to compensate for being at fault on the two goals; and the true fighting qualities of our team when they were undeservedly up against it.
In those last few minutes I felt more proud of the team than I have all season. They worked for and covered each other with absolute commitment and still tried, with the numbers against us, to go forward in search of a winner.
I thought for once we would see a fair representation of our display on Match of the Day. Silly me. Apart from our two goals all they showed were Arsenal’s attacking moves, yet the match stats show pretty even numbers of shots and corners. Between the tossers on MOTD and the morons who think it will boost ratings to hand free air space on Question Time to those who would deny free speech to everyone they disapproved of, if they ever got a sniff of power, BBC1 is not my favourite channel at the moment.
A few players deserve special mention both for positive and negative reasons. At half time I told my mate that our only hope of getting back into the match was getting Noble off and Diaminti on and this conversation took about 10 minutes to filter down from the Doc Marten’s Upper to our chirpy Italian coach. If the game started to shift back to us when an aggressive and tricky player like Diamanti came on, how much more so when Hines joined the fray, with his pace and willingness to run at defenders. Our desire to fight for every ball and drive ourselves forward meant that many times in the first half, even after going behind, we were winning corners and also free kicks which enabled us to float the ball into their danger area – and pretty much each one was wasted by Noble. I’ve been a big fan of his, when others have got on his back, but he seemed to be seriously lacking in confidence and ideas.
Which made it all the more surprising that he Noble kept his place in the starting line up at Sunderland, though to be fair, from what I saw of the game on Match of the Day, his game had picked up. Also back to his very best was Jack Collison who was the provider for both the goals and who worked his plums off during the Arsenal game.
When we went two goals up at Sunderland in 36 minutes the effect of the comeback against Arsenal was evident, and both goals were taken with great aplomb. Franco showed strength and speed to get to Collison’s low cross when challenged by two defenders and Cole took the ball in his stride beautifully before despatching it without any hesitation. You have to give Sunderland credit for their fight-back in the same way that we earned it a week earlier. They had won four on the trot at home and last time out beat Liverpool. They are building a good side and deserve their place in the top half, so a 2-2 result at the end was perhaps disappointing given that we had been two up but probably fair to the efforts of both teams. And more importantly suggested that we have broken the habit of losing.
It seems that 2-2 is our signature at the moment, with three of our last four league outings ending in that score. More like this and we will stop being known as “The Hammers’ and be renamed “The Desmonds”.
Now we have two home games in the space of a few days to prove that we have turned the corner, though the opponents in both will undoubtedly be tough. Aston Villa and Everton drew with each other at the weekend. Both have an abundance of skilful players. First up it’s Villa for whom Ashley Young and Gabriel Agbonlahor always stand out. And of course it’s the return of the Ginger Pele who has made an excellent start at his new club. He will know Carlton Cole’s game inside out, which is why will need something a little extra to unnerve the Villa rearguard. To me, that makes the case for starting with Zavon and bringing on Franco as reinforcement later in the game if necessary. I’d be tempted to start with Diamanti instead of Noble too, despite Nobes improvement at the Reebok, as he adds a bit more power, unpredictability and imagination to the line up and can really deliver in dead-ball situations. A big game under the floodlights where three points would truly make a difference. And as Desmond 2-2 said:
“I never doubted that ultimately we were going to be free, because ultimately, I knew there was no way in which a lie could prevail over the truth, darkness over light, death over life.”
Let’s prove it tonight. Get out there and get at them. All we are looking for is truth, life, freedom and a 3-1 scoreline. COYI!!!!!!!
Friday, 30 October 2009
No more exasperation
OLAS 467 October 25th 2009
It’s not often that I get inspiration for my OLAS column from my day to day work as a primary school teacher, but education has been on the front page of the news lately. A huge head of steam is building up around the demand to dump the SATs tests for 7 and 11 year olds that, for several years now, have been getting parents agitated and teachers tearing their hair out (and we don’t all have much to start with). These high stakes tests prevent our children from simply gaining pleasure from learning, from thinking, discovering, and imagining, without fear of failure or excessive pressure.
My union, the NUT, and the Headteachers’ union, the NAHT, are about to run an indicative ballot of their members to take forward the campaign to boycott the tests and hopefully put them where they belong, with lots of other failed “educational” ideas, in the dustbin of history. And if you get rid of the tests then you also get rid of the hated league tables. You only have to glance at the main arguments against league tables and to substitute a couple of words here and there to see how closely they apply to West Ham’s predicament.
1. Schools/football teams that are lowly ranked lose confidence and it is really hard to throw off the label of being a poor school/crap team. If everyone goes round telling you at every opportunity that you are shit, and you read headlines in your local paper that say the same, it isn’t long before you believe it yourself. Though, to be fair, in Jonathan Spector’s case it is both fair comment and true.
2. When you name and shame schools/football teams which don’t perform well against a narrow set of tests (winning games), it makes it harder for these schools/teams to improve because teachers and students/quality players not crap cast-offs, won’t want to go there.
3. When your ranking of schools/football teams is based on narrow test scores (how many games they win) it means that other subjects (how you play the beautiful game, the clever dummies, back-heels, nutmegs etc) get neglected and kids don’t get a rounded education (fans get less pleasure).
4. League tables don’t show the value you have added (by making the most of having fuck-all resources and building an exciting team with young inexperienced players). Instead, they treat every school/football team as if you are starting each year on a level playing field - as if we ever start the season on the same basis as the likes of Manure and Chelski.
5. And finally - and this is the thing that really gets my goat about the school league tables more than anything – maths is seriously not my best subject but I know enough about statistics to realise something that our dumbcluck politicians on all sides don’t get at all: that if you put schools/football teams in a league table, then someone has to come bottom. What’s more, half the schools/football teams, however well they do in circumstances that can be very taxing, and often with pitiful resources (they all went down with the Icelandic banks), will end up in the bottom half. That’s as inevitable as night follows day.
The other thing that gets my goat is when people get their metaphors mixed up and say: “Now the thing that really gets right up my goat…” I just don’t want to know, or have to think about, what gets right up your goat.
OK, let’s leave the goats on the backburner. Now, if you are like me, and you don’t like looking at the league table, since it just resembles a map of England with Man U right up there in the North and West Ham way down South with just Portsmouth further south, then why not sign up to my campaign against league tables? If you do you will never have to feel depressed or exasperated again this season.
Because depressed and exasperated must be what so many fans, and Zola as well, must be feeling. We had a golden opportunity to turn it around against Fulham last time here at Upton Park. Cole headed an excellent goal on 15 minutes from Daimanti’s top delivery. We made the chances to score more but didn’t take them. Nevertheless, as the first half wore on, our dominance became more and more established. Fulham did not really look up for it and when they had a player sent off just before the break, I know I wasn’t alone in honestly feeling at half-time that we were likely to win by two or three goals. A win here would have been so welcome. it would have lifted us out of the danger zone while condemning one of our rivals to that position instead. More selfishly I had put a small wager on with William Hill for a 2-0 correct score and at half-time I was already thinking how I would spend my winnings.
But then came the disastrous restart. Upson only needed to stand his ground on the edge of the penalty area but instead he needlessly pushed a player who was not in a threatening position, presenting a hopeless-looking Fulham team with a penalty and a chance to recover. Ten minutes later Greenie was all over the place at a corner, Fulham scored the softest of goals and we were suddenly chasing the game against a revitalised 10-man team. The psychological impact was immediate. Our morale went through the floor while Fulham’s lifted enormously, and we were lucky to scrape a point thanks to Junior Stan (and a deflection of a defender).
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.
In know in my last column I avoided the “must-win game” cliché and suggested instead that the crucial thing was to not lose, but I hardly expected the game to be so patently in our hands at half-time. When the final whistle went I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. I think I just let out a peculiar groaning sound. We may have not lost, we may have secured a point, but it felt like a crushing defeat.
A win would have given us confidence before our trip to Stoke, who are always a hard team to beat, though results against them in recent years have largely gone our way. We can moan about the Upson incident and how we should have had a penalty but at the end of the day we were let down less by the referee than by the failings of a midfield player unable to play like a right back. Faubert has generally improved this season, especially going forward and can deliver dangerous crosses, but we need someone who can defend as well. He was badly at fault with both goals. So what do we do next week? Put in Jonathan Spector? Against Arsenal? fuck no.
Above all we were let down by the financial movers and shakers at the club who knew that they had to take decisive action to ensure we started the season with a recognised right back, but did nothing except further deplete our defensive cover.
What was most disturbing against Stoke is that, apart from having Parker suspended and Dyer missing again (and again and again) we were playing with pretty much our strongest squad. This is it until January – and who knows what happens then? Stoke are hardly world-beaters and if that is all we can offer against them, then how will we fare when we play proper teams – like, well today, when we entertain the Arse who are scoring more freely that someone going on a weekend tour of Amsterdam coffee-shops?
Much as I love to see Arsehole Whinger getting a strop when things go wrong, I can’t see anything other than a heavy defeat for us today, even if we play well. The gap in class, confidence, movement and imagination is too large, even if we play with more consistency and concentration than we have until now. And if we don’t like the look of last week’s league table, the one at the end of today’s game may appear even less pretty. Portsmouth put on a spirited display against the Spuds last week and are a good bet to turn over Hull this weekend which could leave us propping up the rest of the table.
And talking of spirited displays – congratulations to Ginger Pele on his first goal for Villa against Chelsea and to George McCartney in helping Sunderland get one over Liverpool. Things must be getting seriously bad here when I’m having to scrape around so much in search of positives that I’m resorting to basking in the reflected glory of players that have long since left us.
Still, help may be at hand. The news that an alternative Hammers-supporting consortium to Messrs Porn Merchant and Shyster may be on the horizon, and will provide funds for the January transfer window, is the boost that we all need. Let’s hope that it is not media hot-air but real, and still a possibility by the time this is printed. Last year Zola did a fantastic job at protecting the players from the backroom disasters with his overwhelming positivity. This year, though, the players look as if they know only too well the gravity of the situation and it is weighing down on them. It is also weighing down on Zola, who clearly had been lied to about how bad things were financially and must be sorely tempted to walk away.
So I have no expectations from today. If we get anything, that will be a fantastic bonus and I’ll spend the week laughing my plums off. Just keep it all in perspective. Our fate this season will not be decided today. How we do when we are away to Hull and home to Burnley in November, away to Birmingham and Bolton and at home to Portsmouth in December, will be far more important than anything that happens on the pitch this afternoon. So enjoy the game and close your eyes and put your fingers in your ears when Arsenal get near our penalty box.
I’ll leave you with the West Ham SATs test before they and the league tables get dumped:
1. Which event is more likely to happen – Gordon Brown lays an egg or Keiron Dyer plays two games in a row?
2. In which century did a director of West Ham last tell fans the truth about the club’s financial position?
3. What is the point of Scott Duxbury?
It’s not often that I get inspiration for my OLAS column from my day to day work as a primary school teacher, but education has been on the front page of the news lately. A huge head of steam is building up around the demand to dump the SATs tests for 7 and 11 year olds that, for several years now, have been getting parents agitated and teachers tearing their hair out (and we don’t all have much to start with). These high stakes tests prevent our children from simply gaining pleasure from learning, from thinking, discovering, and imagining, without fear of failure or excessive pressure.
My union, the NUT, and the Headteachers’ union, the NAHT, are about to run an indicative ballot of their members to take forward the campaign to boycott the tests and hopefully put them where they belong, with lots of other failed “educational” ideas, in the dustbin of history. And if you get rid of the tests then you also get rid of the hated league tables. You only have to glance at the main arguments against league tables and to substitute a couple of words here and there to see how closely they apply to West Ham’s predicament.
1. Schools/football teams that are lowly ranked lose confidence and it is really hard to throw off the label of being a poor school/crap team. If everyone goes round telling you at every opportunity that you are shit, and you read headlines in your local paper that say the same, it isn’t long before you believe it yourself. Though, to be fair, in Jonathan Spector’s case it is both fair comment and true.
2. When you name and shame schools/football teams which don’t perform well against a narrow set of tests (winning games), it makes it harder for these schools/teams to improve because teachers and students/quality players not crap cast-offs, won’t want to go there.
3. When your ranking of schools/football teams is based on narrow test scores (how many games they win) it means that other subjects (how you play the beautiful game, the clever dummies, back-heels, nutmegs etc) get neglected and kids don’t get a rounded education (fans get less pleasure).
4. League tables don’t show the value you have added (by making the most of having fuck-all resources and building an exciting team with young inexperienced players). Instead, they treat every school/football team as if you are starting each year on a level playing field - as if we ever start the season on the same basis as the likes of Manure and Chelski.
5. And finally - and this is the thing that really gets my goat about the school league tables more than anything – maths is seriously not my best subject but I know enough about statistics to realise something that our dumbcluck politicians on all sides don’t get at all: that if you put schools/football teams in a league table, then someone has to come bottom. What’s more, half the schools/football teams, however well they do in circumstances that can be very taxing, and often with pitiful resources (they all went down with the Icelandic banks), will end up in the bottom half. That’s as inevitable as night follows day.
The other thing that gets my goat is when people get their metaphors mixed up and say: “Now the thing that really gets right up my goat…” I just don’t want to know, or have to think about, what gets right up your goat.
OK, let’s leave the goats on the backburner. Now, if you are like me, and you don’t like looking at the league table, since it just resembles a map of England with Man U right up there in the North and West Ham way down South with just Portsmouth further south, then why not sign up to my campaign against league tables? If you do you will never have to feel depressed or exasperated again this season.
Because depressed and exasperated must be what so many fans, and Zola as well, must be feeling. We had a golden opportunity to turn it around against Fulham last time here at Upton Park. Cole headed an excellent goal on 15 minutes from Daimanti’s top delivery. We made the chances to score more but didn’t take them. Nevertheless, as the first half wore on, our dominance became more and more established. Fulham did not really look up for it and when they had a player sent off just before the break, I know I wasn’t alone in honestly feeling at half-time that we were likely to win by two or three goals. A win here would have been so welcome. it would have lifted us out of the danger zone while condemning one of our rivals to that position instead. More selfishly I had put a small wager on with William Hill for a 2-0 correct score and at half-time I was already thinking how I would spend my winnings.
But then came the disastrous restart. Upson only needed to stand his ground on the edge of the penalty area but instead he needlessly pushed a player who was not in a threatening position, presenting a hopeless-looking Fulham team with a penalty and a chance to recover. Ten minutes later Greenie was all over the place at a corner, Fulham scored the softest of goals and we were suddenly chasing the game against a revitalised 10-man team. The psychological impact was immediate. Our morale went through the floor while Fulham’s lifted enormously, and we were lucky to scrape a point thanks to Junior Stan (and a deflection of a defender).
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.
In know in my last column I avoided the “must-win game” cliché and suggested instead that the crucial thing was to not lose, but I hardly expected the game to be so patently in our hands at half-time. When the final whistle went I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. I think I just let out a peculiar groaning sound. We may have not lost, we may have secured a point, but it felt like a crushing defeat.
A win would have given us confidence before our trip to Stoke, who are always a hard team to beat, though results against them in recent years have largely gone our way. We can moan about the Upson incident and how we should have had a penalty but at the end of the day we were let down less by the referee than by the failings of a midfield player unable to play like a right back. Faubert has generally improved this season, especially going forward and can deliver dangerous crosses, but we need someone who can defend as well. He was badly at fault with both goals. So what do we do next week? Put in Jonathan Spector? Against Arsenal? fuck no.
Above all we were let down by the financial movers and shakers at the club who knew that they had to take decisive action to ensure we started the season with a recognised right back, but did nothing except further deplete our defensive cover.
What was most disturbing against Stoke is that, apart from having Parker suspended and Dyer missing again (and again and again) we were playing with pretty much our strongest squad. This is it until January – and who knows what happens then? Stoke are hardly world-beaters and if that is all we can offer against them, then how will we fare when we play proper teams – like, well today, when we entertain the Arse who are scoring more freely that someone going on a weekend tour of Amsterdam coffee-shops?
Much as I love to see Arsehole Whinger getting a strop when things go wrong, I can’t see anything other than a heavy defeat for us today, even if we play well. The gap in class, confidence, movement and imagination is too large, even if we play with more consistency and concentration than we have until now. And if we don’t like the look of last week’s league table, the one at the end of today’s game may appear even less pretty. Portsmouth put on a spirited display against the Spuds last week and are a good bet to turn over Hull this weekend which could leave us propping up the rest of the table.
And talking of spirited displays – congratulations to Ginger Pele on his first goal for Villa against Chelsea and to George McCartney in helping Sunderland get one over Liverpool. Things must be getting seriously bad here when I’m having to scrape around so much in search of positives that I’m resorting to basking in the reflected glory of players that have long since left us.
Still, help may be at hand. The news that an alternative Hammers-supporting consortium to Messrs Porn Merchant and Shyster may be on the horizon, and will provide funds for the January transfer window, is the boost that we all need. Let’s hope that it is not media hot-air but real, and still a possibility by the time this is printed. Last year Zola did a fantastic job at protecting the players from the backroom disasters with his overwhelming positivity. This year, though, the players look as if they know only too well the gravity of the situation and it is weighing down on them. It is also weighing down on Zola, who clearly had been lied to about how bad things were financially and must be sorely tempted to walk away.
So I have no expectations from today. If we get anything, that will be a fantastic bonus and I’ll spend the week laughing my plums off. Just keep it all in perspective. Our fate this season will not be decided today. How we do when we are away to Hull and home to Burnley in November, away to Birmingham and Bolton and at home to Portsmouth in December, will be far more important than anything that happens on the pitch this afternoon. So enjoy the game and close your eyes and put your fingers in your ears when Arsenal get near our penalty box.
I’ll leave you with the West Ham SATs test before they and the league tables get dumped:
1. Which event is more likely to happen – Gordon Brown lays an egg or Keiron Dyer plays two games in a row?
2. In which century did a director of West Ham last tell fans the truth about the club’s financial position?
3. What is the point of Scott Duxbury?
Honouring the past
OLAS 466 October 4th 2009
I have a strange recurring experience. I go to an absorbing game of football where West Ham play Liverpool and we lose a high-scoring game. And yet, as the whistle goes and I start to walk away, I feel almost elated, as if we have won. It first happened to me at Cardiff in 2006 and it happened again at Upton Park a couple of weeks ago.
I’ve always admired the way Liverpool play football, battling to win every 50/50 ball then driving forward very directly with quick crisp passes on the ground, lots of overlapping movement, clever balls into space for runners, quality crosses right into the danger area…and partly my elation is that we have battled them at their own game showing that we can also play this kind of game even though our players are younger, less experienced and much less valuable on the transfer market.
To be honest I felt Liverpool deserved to win last time round at Upton Park (not at Cardiff though!) but only just, and a draw would not have been an unfair result. At 25 minutes in, with two of our top players having departed the field (Upson and Behrami) and already a goal down we could have been in for a hammering but we never lost heart. Players such as Zavon Hines and Diamanti on his home debut, gave their all, and showed a lot of skilful touches. For most of the game Faubert was a revelation, though he occasionally remembered that he was the kind of player who wins a tackle well but then give the ball right back to the opposition. The midfield and defence blocked shot after shot, and when we came forward we looked threatening. Zavon was very unlucky with the shot that came back off the post just two minutes in. Most of the time they had to foul him to stop him surging forward, and we made Reina work hard all day.
Where we failed was in giving the ball away cheaply when we relied on playing over-long, over-hopeful passes, and in not having players keeping close enough to Cole to benefit when he won and held the ball in threatening positions in the final third. Our other failure was in allowing any team whether it was Liverpool or Leyton Orient, to get a free header for a goal direct from a corner. Good defending should always prevent that from happening.
The other plus was the atmosphere. The crowd responded to the effort being shown on the pitch and really got behind the team, willing them to stay in contention, and rightly applauded their efforts at half-time when we were level and at full time although we had lost.
The only really gutting moment for me was before the game as we applauded three ex-Hammers returning in Liverpool colours – Benayoun, Johnson and Mascherano. I stood reflecting on the lack of ambition, the poor decisions and the financial disasters and that have enabled us to lose such talents and many others in the last few years, but chuckled to myself that when we did have a talent like Mascherano here, he was kept on the bench by Hayden Mullins dull but consistent performances and Pards’ lack of imagination.
I would love to say, with the optimists, that if we play like that against lesser teams we won’t have too many problems this year, but the facts so far don’t bear this out. Crap performances at Wigan and Blackburn, without a goal to show, and being dumped out the cup by a team as uninspiring and lacking in talent as Bolton puts our performance against Liverpool into perspective. We always seem to raise our game against Liverpool but somehow Zola and Clarke need to ensure that level of performance is not kept as an occasional surprise but reveals itself consistently.
Which is why our tepid showing at Citeh was such a worry too. For all the hype and the points they have amassed so far I don’t regard them as one of the top teams. OK, they have a billionaire who managed not to lose all his gelt in the credit crunch, and they have splashed out on bringing some top players but they are riding on a feelgood factor rather than properly gelling as a team, and having Bellamy in the pack is sure to inflame dressing room rivalries when they suffer a couple of defeats – which they will. We had no reason to fear them but surrendered so meekly. We gifted them the goals, the killer third being the worst giveaway, coming as it did after City had stepped off the gas and we had looked the brighter team after the break and done most of the pressing.
As Citeh were about to float in the free kick that Tevez nodded home our defenders took no notice at all of where any of their forwards were standing, and if Tevez had missed it there were two other City players waiting in the queue with no one remotely near them to challenge. If ever there was a moment that underlined the sheer stupidity and myopia of letting the Ginger Pele go, this was it.
Not only was Ginge a tower of strength in the air but also he showed tenaciousness and a desire never to be beaten on the ground that was lacking almost throughout the team on Monday. Apart from Diamanti and Scotty Parker, who was showing any determination in 50/50 tackles?
There were so few positives to take from that game except the fact that we looked much more dangerous at set pieces than we have for donkeys. Noble’s corners and Diamanti’s free kicks put the ball right into the danger area and gave us chances to profit from them. We didn’t and the rest was shit to put it mildly.
I thought I was going to have to watch the game in a pub, and round where I live its mostly Arsenal and Spurs fans – who would have been gloating – but it seems that Virgin have upgraded our TV package, and I now have ESPN at home. So when I am watching the Hammers I can throw things at my own TV in the comfort of my own living room. I’ll start collecting some things to throw now because I suspect this will not be the last of our abject Monday night performances.
Makes a welcome change for Virgin to come up trumps for once. My experience of them in every other regard has been deeply unsatisfying, not least on their trains, leaving me to rue how, somewhat ironically, if you rely on Virgin, you are truly fucked.
And so to our first crucial relegation encounter, an East End - West End battle with Fulham on October 4th. I didn’t think I would be writing that sentence with the season just a few weeks old. But it is better to face reality early on than wait for it to smack you round the chops later.
October 4th is a day with a bit of history in the East End – a day when a great victory is celebrated. It was on October 4th 1936 that East Enders poured onto the streets to send Oswald Mosley and his fascist Blackshirts packing. Thoroughly humiliated, they scuttled back west to their sewers. United in adversity, East Enders worked tremendously hard for each other that day. Let’s hope that the East End can honour the past and bring about a united success today and send Fulham scuttling back west as miserable as old Ossie was that day.
Fulham surprised a lot of people last year with their successful push for Europe and they showed the dizzy heights could be achieved with limited budgets and a manager with a funny face (as opposed to Spurs who unfortunately are showing what can be done with unlimited budgets and a manager with a funny face). I won’t be quite so gutted at seeing Fulham’s trio of ex-hammers, as I think we have found able replacements for them. None of them were great footballers but I still feel positively towards them. Paintsil was often played out of position here and not surprisingly didn’t develop consistency. Bobby Z always gave 110% but was always happier with a Rugby goal. Paul Konchesky was given a hard time by the fans and not treated at all well by that halfwit Curbishley. I rated Konchesky and liked the fact that he looked like Al Murray the Pub Landlord. Lots of left backs we have had here over the years have suffered mainly from not being Julian Dicks or the original Frank Lampard. I like our current incumbent – Herita Illunga – especially for the way he goes forward, but I can’t pretend that he makes fewer mistakes than Konchesky.
I am guessing that my fellow scribblers will over-use the phrase “must-win game” about today’s encounter, and being a trend-setter rather than a follower of fashion you won’t catch me doing that. For me this is not so much a “must-win game” as “must-not-lose-under-any-circumstances-you-useless-arseholes”. Like picking your nose/belly-button/ears/between your toes (delete as appropriate) losing become s a nasty, smelly habit and the first step is to break the pattern. Of course winning would be sweeter and is well within our grasp. Outside Left’s three steps to victory are:
1. Defenders - keep at least one of your eyes open when wandering aimlessly around the penalty area especially at set pieces
2. Midfield - look for the players in claret with a hint of sky blue to pass to and make sure it reaches in front of them not behind them
3. Attackers – don’t wait 5 minutes or stop to adjust your hair when you have a chance but go for it straight away and make their goalie work for his wages.
How I never became a football coach I just don’t know. One of life’s mysteries. Anyway, we’ll see how much they respond to my advice. Enjoy the game and don’t pick your belly-button. COYI!!!
I have a strange recurring experience. I go to an absorbing game of football where West Ham play Liverpool and we lose a high-scoring game. And yet, as the whistle goes and I start to walk away, I feel almost elated, as if we have won. It first happened to me at Cardiff in 2006 and it happened again at Upton Park a couple of weeks ago.
I’ve always admired the way Liverpool play football, battling to win every 50/50 ball then driving forward very directly with quick crisp passes on the ground, lots of overlapping movement, clever balls into space for runners, quality crosses right into the danger area…and partly my elation is that we have battled them at their own game showing that we can also play this kind of game even though our players are younger, less experienced and much less valuable on the transfer market.
To be honest I felt Liverpool deserved to win last time round at Upton Park (not at Cardiff though!) but only just, and a draw would not have been an unfair result. At 25 minutes in, with two of our top players having departed the field (Upson and Behrami) and already a goal down we could have been in for a hammering but we never lost heart. Players such as Zavon Hines and Diamanti on his home debut, gave their all, and showed a lot of skilful touches. For most of the game Faubert was a revelation, though he occasionally remembered that he was the kind of player who wins a tackle well but then give the ball right back to the opposition. The midfield and defence blocked shot after shot, and when we came forward we looked threatening. Zavon was very unlucky with the shot that came back off the post just two minutes in. Most of the time they had to foul him to stop him surging forward, and we made Reina work hard all day.
Where we failed was in giving the ball away cheaply when we relied on playing over-long, over-hopeful passes, and in not having players keeping close enough to Cole to benefit when he won and held the ball in threatening positions in the final third. Our other failure was in allowing any team whether it was Liverpool or Leyton Orient, to get a free header for a goal direct from a corner. Good defending should always prevent that from happening.
The other plus was the atmosphere. The crowd responded to the effort being shown on the pitch and really got behind the team, willing them to stay in contention, and rightly applauded their efforts at half-time when we were level and at full time although we had lost.
The only really gutting moment for me was before the game as we applauded three ex-Hammers returning in Liverpool colours – Benayoun, Johnson and Mascherano. I stood reflecting on the lack of ambition, the poor decisions and the financial disasters and that have enabled us to lose such talents and many others in the last few years, but chuckled to myself that when we did have a talent like Mascherano here, he was kept on the bench by Hayden Mullins dull but consistent performances and Pards’ lack of imagination.
I would love to say, with the optimists, that if we play like that against lesser teams we won’t have too many problems this year, but the facts so far don’t bear this out. Crap performances at Wigan and Blackburn, without a goal to show, and being dumped out the cup by a team as uninspiring and lacking in talent as Bolton puts our performance against Liverpool into perspective. We always seem to raise our game against Liverpool but somehow Zola and Clarke need to ensure that level of performance is not kept as an occasional surprise but reveals itself consistently.
Which is why our tepid showing at Citeh was such a worry too. For all the hype and the points they have amassed so far I don’t regard them as one of the top teams. OK, they have a billionaire who managed not to lose all his gelt in the credit crunch, and they have splashed out on bringing some top players but they are riding on a feelgood factor rather than properly gelling as a team, and having Bellamy in the pack is sure to inflame dressing room rivalries when they suffer a couple of defeats – which they will. We had no reason to fear them but surrendered so meekly. We gifted them the goals, the killer third being the worst giveaway, coming as it did after City had stepped off the gas and we had looked the brighter team after the break and done most of the pressing.
As Citeh were about to float in the free kick that Tevez nodded home our defenders took no notice at all of where any of their forwards were standing, and if Tevez had missed it there were two other City players waiting in the queue with no one remotely near them to challenge. If ever there was a moment that underlined the sheer stupidity and myopia of letting the Ginger Pele go, this was it.
Not only was Ginge a tower of strength in the air but also he showed tenaciousness and a desire never to be beaten on the ground that was lacking almost throughout the team on Monday. Apart from Diamanti and Scotty Parker, who was showing any determination in 50/50 tackles?
There were so few positives to take from that game except the fact that we looked much more dangerous at set pieces than we have for donkeys. Noble’s corners and Diamanti’s free kicks put the ball right into the danger area and gave us chances to profit from them. We didn’t and the rest was shit to put it mildly.
I thought I was going to have to watch the game in a pub, and round where I live its mostly Arsenal and Spurs fans – who would have been gloating – but it seems that Virgin have upgraded our TV package, and I now have ESPN at home. So when I am watching the Hammers I can throw things at my own TV in the comfort of my own living room. I’ll start collecting some things to throw now because I suspect this will not be the last of our abject Monday night performances.
Makes a welcome change for Virgin to come up trumps for once. My experience of them in every other regard has been deeply unsatisfying, not least on their trains, leaving me to rue how, somewhat ironically, if you rely on Virgin, you are truly fucked.
And so to our first crucial relegation encounter, an East End - West End battle with Fulham on October 4th. I didn’t think I would be writing that sentence with the season just a few weeks old. But it is better to face reality early on than wait for it to smack you round the chops later.
October 4th is a day with a bit of history in the East End – a day when a great victory is celebrated. It was on October 4th 1936 that East Enders poured onto the streets to send Oswald Mosley and his fascist Blackshirts packing. Thoroughly humiliated, they scuttled back west to their sewers. United in adversity, East Enders worked tremendously hard for each other that day. Let’s hope that the East End can honour the past and bring about a united success today and send Fulham scuttling back west as miserable as old Ossie was that day.
Fulham surprised a lot of people last year with their successful push for Europe and they showed the dizzy heights could be achieved with limited budgets and a manager with a funny face (as opposed to Spurs who unfortunately are showing what can be done with unlimited budgets and a manager with a funny face). I won’t be quite so gutted at seeing Fulham’s trio of ex-hammers, as I think we have found able replacements for them. None of them were great footballers but I still feel positively towards them. Paintsil was often played out of position here and not surprisingly didn’t develop consistency. Bobby Z always gave 110% but was always happier with a Rugby goal. Paul Konchesky was given a hard time by the fans and not treated at all well by that halfwit Curbishley. I rated Konchesky and liked the fact that he looked like Al Murray the Pub Landlord. Lots of left backs we have had here over the years have suffered mainly from not being Julian Dicks or the original Frank Lampard. I like our current incumbent – Herita Illunga – especially for the way he goes forward, but I can’t pretend that he makes fewer mistakes than Konchesky.
I am guessing that my fellow scribblers will over-use the phrase “must-win game” about today’s encounter, and being a trend-setter rather than a follower of fashion you won’t catch me doing that. For me this is not so much a “must-win game” as “must-not-lose-under-any-circumstances-you-useless-arseholes”. Like picking your nose/belly-button/ears/between your toes (delete as appropriate) losing become s a nasty, smelly habit and the first step is to break the pattern. Of course winning would be sweeter and is well within our grasp. Outside Left’s three steps to victory are:
1. Defenders - keep at least one of your eyes open when wandering aimlessly around the penalty area especially at set pieces
2. Midfield - look for the players in claret with a hint of sky blue to pass to and make sure it reaches in front of them not behind them
3. Attackers – don’t wait 5 minutes or stop to adjust your hair when you have a chance but go for it straight away and make their goalie work for his wages.
How I never became a football coach I just don’t know. One of life’s mysteries. Anyway, we’ll see how much they respond to my advice. Enjoy the game and don’t pick your belly-button. COYI!!!
Window dressing
OLAS 465 September 19th 2009
“It was a very successful transfer window. Despite high levels of interest and very tempting offers from top clubs, both here and on the continent, we managed to hold on to Nigel Squashy and Jonathan Spectator,” said West Ham Chief Executive Scoff Ducksbrain. excitedly. “We can definitely challenge for fourth place (from the bottom) now”
OK, I made it up, but it’s not terribly far from the grim truth. After the miserable experience of recent windows I vowed to myself not to become one of those “Brainless Barneys”, logging on to the internet every few minutes in the days just before the window ended, to see which ever-more-unlikely international star we were linked with only to end up being utterly disappointed and despondent. But there I was, eager for each new snippet of empty speculation. I wanted so much to believe that we were going to a splash many millions on players even though all seemed to be saying they would rather stick their head up a dead bear’s arse than play for us. I knew, or thought I knew, that any negative comments attributed to them would all be revealed as paper talk, and really they were dying to play for the happy hammers.
As the great American folksinger Peter Seeger said in 1963: “When will they ever learn? When will they ever learn?” . Well I’ve learned fuck all it seems. Like my one-time addiction to sherbert lemons, I want to stop but I can’t. I’ve got to be strong. OK, next window I won’t pay any attention at all. I’ll just turn the other way and tell my compute to stop bothering me, then check it on February 1st to see if anything happened.
Or maybe I might check once or twice, or maybe…
The end result of the summertime to-ing and fro-ing is that while many of the teams we have to see realistically as our competitors were strengthening their squads, we have made little difference to ours. We’ve lost a truly tenacious and reliable centre back, popular with the fans despite his ginger hair, for a considerably higher price than we paid. In his place we have gained a younger model who has played for his country at under-21 level. And we’ve sold one of our stars of the future, an exciting young player with a lot of potential who, it would seem, never really settled in East London and brought in a more experienced player – Allesandro Diamianti – with, we are told, a sweet piede sinistro (left foot).
Hopefully he will turn out to be a real Diamanti geezer, and he certainly fills one important role – a player who can take wicked free kicks from 25/30 yards range. Mark Noble can and does take them from there but they are always over the bar or at the wall, so in that sense having Diamanti is a plus. But at the same time I can’t share the views expressed on various Hammers fans’ sites, who seemed more than pleased to see the back of our Ugandan-born purchase from Italy, Savio Nsereko.
Savio rarely got a look in, but the few times I saw him play I saw a skilful but unconfident player trying his best. I also had more selfish reasons for wanting him to succeed. If West Ham has been part of my life for nearly 45 years, Uganda has been a significant factor in my life since I first went there for five weeks work in 2001. I have been back since, maintain contact with friends there, and am learning Swahili – spoken by many Ugandans and more widely in East Africa. I’m also the proud owner of a Ugandan under-21 football shirt, though if I’m really honest I would have to acknowledge that I’m neither Ugandan nor under 21. (Unlike Dean Ashton I am under 21-stone though.)
It used to puzzle me how these two vital and indispensable aspects of my life could every possibly come together, and when we bought Savio, for a moment I glimpsed it. Anyway that dream has gone but I sincerely hope he succeeds back in Italy. Savio – bahati njema (“good luck” in Swahili). And I hope that his problems in settling down in London were down to him and not because the club wasn’t looking after him properly.
We could do with a bit of “bahati njema” ourselves. Of course, It’s early days, but four points from four outings mainly against struggling clubs and providing such little threat in front of goal, despite Zola’s attacking ambitions, is a piss-poor start to what could turn out to be a long, tough season. Having Behrami back in contention is an enormous plus. Having Dyer out of contention with an injury is just par for the course. We have missed Behrami’s skill, pace and drive. He may need a few more games before he is back to his best but that can’t come soon enough.
It seems ages since we’ve played at Upton Park but that last outing was a rather intense, controversial even! It was the Millwall game We were second best for 85 minutes playing slow, predictable, unimaginative football, against determined opponents who didn’t have a great deal of skill but compensated for what they lacked with lots of ambition and spirit. We eventually came to life with the equalising goal, then put on a much more stylish performance in extra time. And in that last period of the game the players that can be especially proud of how they performed were the infant trio of Junior Stan, Zavon Beans and Frankie Noodle – with a combined age of about eleven and a half.
Of course the real drama was being acted out on Green Street and Priory Road and later spilled on from the stands to the pitch. In typically sensationalist and superficial fashion, the media managed to conglomerate three very different episodes into one, and seriously distort what really took place.
The pitch invasions were nothing to do with violence. They were expressions of pure exuberance and relief – stupid but harmless. Lots of energetic youngsters were joined by middle aged geezers (and occasional geezeresses) with far too many pies in their tummies than is good for their hearts. Trying to sprint the length of the pitch, they were a danger only to themselves, no-one else. They were running for joy to hug their heroes and, yes, they enjoyed getting one over Millwall, just when Millwall thought they were going home with our cup scalp. I wasn’t one of the invaders – it would have been quite a leap down to the pitch from the Dr Marten’s Upper – but I truly shared their ecstasy. I don’t mean that I shared their…I can get my own…Oh, you know what I mean.
Earlier, in Priory Road, some Millwall fans who found themselves in the wrong place were chased by a small group of West Ham boneheads and one got stabbed. That terrible incident involving a handful of fans happened well away from the main fights involving many hundreds near the pubs in Green street.
As I was walking to the game I was pretty shocked to see far more “fans” heading in the opposite direction just to get involved in a fight they weren’t involved in but heard was happening down the road. And the look on their faces said it all, anxious, desperate, full of pent up venom. No doubt their counterparts form South London came with the similar emotions in their otherwise empty heads.
They weren’t the only ones without brains though. The incredibly stupid decision from on high to halve the number of tickets available for Millwall fans meant that many had no chance at all of getting a ticket, and were only going along for the battle outside. There has been lots of speculation on whether the fight was organised by both sides in advance. The question is irrelevant. It hardly had to be planned in advance.
I was very interested in Merion’s piece last OLAS locating the historical justification for the enmity in the events of the General strike of 1926. He explained how the shipyard workers/dockers on the Millwall side had scabbed on their comrades on the West Ham side. I’ve regurgitated this in my discussions with friends about the events that night. There we’ve been, discussing it at length, shaking our heads at the mindless violence, discussing levels of alienation and the desire for group identity and empowerment and such-like bollox, then coming back to the point that lots of alienated people who yearn for a sense of identity don’t need to walk along scraping their knuckles or chucking sticks and bottles. But then I’ve chirped up at the end with, “Mind you, there are of course very sound historical reasons why we hate Millwall…” and then reflected on the importance of memory, only to be brought up short by my friends commenting, “Yeah, Dave, but most of those who were fighting last week probably couldn’t remember what they were doing before their last pint , let alone what their great-granddads did in 1926,” which is a fair point.
But, at the end of the day, Millwall are still a bunch of scabbing bastards south of the river.
I see that the Evening Standard published some mug-shots the other day of those the police want to “interview” in connection with the events outside the ground. I’m full of sympathy for those who ran on the pitch. I’ve got no time for those who just wanted a ruck, though if they end up in court they might try what is coming to be known in legalistic parlance as the ‘Gerrard defence” which runs along the lines of “Yes I was there and I was hitting out but so were my friends, and my name is Steve Gerrard, and I’m a rich and famous footballer though I sound like a no-mark from Brookside Close, and it was all my mates’ fault and the fault of the guy I hit, who kept battering my fists with his face, is that all right, m’lord, our kid? Which way is the exit?”
Which brings us nicely to today when we entertain the likely lads of Liverpool. On paper it looks like men v boys (we’re the boys in case you are wondering) but we do usually raise our game against Liverpool, even if we don’t always pull off the result. And I’m clinging on to that to feel that we have a chance of taking a vital point from today. Although all this clinging on and pulling off is making me a bit tired.
I remember once hammering them 8-1. Sadly that was in a game of subbuteo about 30 years ago. But if we take all three points well, I’ll consider taking that leap on to the pitch from the Doc Marten’s Upper. So if you see a 51 year old somersaulting through the air as the whistle-blows, you’ll know who it is. If we lose and you still see a 51 year old Hammers fan somersaulting above you – take no notice at all as that’s definitely not me.
“It was a very successful transfer window. Despite high levels of interest and very tempting offers from top clubs, both here and on the continent, we managed to hold on to Nigel Squashy and Jonathan Spectator,” said West Ham Chief Executive Scoff Ducksbrain. excitedly. “We can definitely challenge for fourth place (from the bottom) now”
OK, I made it up, but it’s not terribly far from the grim truth. After the miserable experience of recent windows I vowed to myself not to become one of those “Brainless Barneys”, logging on to the internet every few minutes in the days just before the window ended, to see which ever-more-unlikely international star we were linked with only to end up being utterly disappointed and despondent. But there I was, eager for each new snippet of empty speculation. I wanted so much to believe that we were going to a splash many millions on players even though all seemed to be saying they would rather stick their head up a dead bear’s arse than play for us. I knew, or thought I knew, that any negative comments attributed to them would all be revealed as paper talk, and really they were dying to play for the happy hammers.
As the great American folksinger Peter Seeger said in 1963: “When will they ever learn? When will they ever learn?” . Well I’ve learned fuck all it seems. Like my one-time addiction to sherbert lemons, I want to stop but I can’t. I’ve got to be strong. OK, next window I won’t pay any attention at all. I’ll just turn the other way and tell my compute to stop bothering me, then check it on February 1st to see if anything happened.
Or maybe I might check once or twice, or maybe…
The end result of the summertime to-ing and fro-ing is that while many of the teams we have to see realistically as our competitors were strengthening their squads, we have made little difference to ours. We’ve lost a truly tenacious and reliable centre back, popular with the fans despite his ginger hair, for a considerably higher price than we paid. In his place we have gained a younger model who has played for his country at under-21 level. And we’ve sold one of our stars of the future, an exciting young player with a lot of potential who, it would seem, never really settled in East London and brought in a more experienced player – Allesandro Diamianti – with, we are told, a sweet piede sinistro (left foot).
Hopefully he will turn out to be a real Diamanti geezer, and he certainly fills one important role – a player who can take wicked free kicks from 25/30 yards range. Mark Noble can and does take them from there but they are always over the bar or at the wall, so in that sense having Diamanti is a plus. But at the same time I can’t share the views expressed on various Hammers fans’ sites, who seemed more than pleased to see the back of our Ugandan-born purchase from Italy, Savio Nsereko.
Savio rarely got a look in, but the few times I saw him play I saw a skilful but unconfident player trying his best. I also had more selfish reasons for wanting him to succeed. If West Ham has been part of my life for nearly 45 years, Uganda has been a significant factor in my life since I first went there for five weeks work in 2001. I have been back since, maintain contact with friends there, and am learning Swahili – spoken by many Ugandans and more widely in East Africa. I’m also the proud owner of a Ugandan under-21 football shirt, though if I’m really honest I would have to acknowledge that I’m neither Ugandan nor under 21. (Unlike Dean Ashton I am under 21-stone though.)
It used to puzzle me how these two vital and indispensable aspects of my life could every possibly come together, and when we bought Savio, for a moment I glimpsed it. Anyway that dream has gone but I sincerely hope he succeeds back in Italy. Savio – bahati njema (“good luck” in Swahili). And I hope that his problems in settling down in London were down to him and not because the club wasn’t looking after him properly.
We could do with a bit of “bahati njema” ourselves. Of course, It’s early days, but four points from four outings mainly against struggling clubs and providing such little threat in front of goal, despite Zola’s attacking ambitions, is a piss-poor start to what could turn out to be a long, tough season. Having Behrami back in contention is an enormous plus. Having Dyer out of contention with an injury is just par for the course. We have missed Behrami’s skill, pace and drive. He may need a few more games before he is back to his best but that can’t come soon enough.
It seems ages since we’ve played at Upton Park but that last outing was a rather intense, controversial even! It was the Millwall game We were second best for 85 minutes playing slow, predictable, unimaginative football, against determined opponents who didn’t have a great deal of skill but compensated for what they lacked with lots of ambition and spirit. We eventually came to life with the equalising goal, then put on a much more stylish performance in extra time. And in that last period of the game the players that can be especially proud of how they performed were the infant trio of Junior Stan, Zavon Beans and Frankie Noodle – with a combined age of about eleven and a half.
Of course the real drama was being acted out on Green Street and Priory Road and later spilled on from the stands to the pitch. In typically sensationalist and superficial fashion, the media managed to conglomerate three very different episodes into one, and seriously distort what really took place.
The pitch invasions were nothing to do with violence. They were expressions of pure exuberance and relief – stupid but harmless. Lots of energetic youngsters were joined by middle aged geezers (and occasional geezeresses) with far too many pies in their tummies than is good for their hearts. Trying to sprint the length of the pitch, they were a danger only to themselves, no-one else. They were running for joy to hug their heroes and, yes, they enjoyed getting one over Millwall, just when Millwall thought they were going home with our cup scalp. I wasn’t one of the invaders – it would have been quite a leap down to the pitch from the Dr Marten’s Upper – but I truly shared their ecstasy. I don’t mean that I shared their…I can get my own…Oh, you know what I mean.
Earlier, in Priory Road, some Millwall fans who found themselves in the wrong place were chased by a small group of West Ham boneheads and one got stabbed. That terrible incident involving a handful of fans happened well away from the main fights involving many hundreds near the pubs in Green street.
As I was walking to the game I was pretty shocked to see far more “fans” heading in the opposite direction just to get involved in a fight they weren’t involved in but heard was happening down the road. And the look on their faces said it all, anxious, desperate, full of pent up venom. No doubt their counterparts form South London came with the similar emotions in their otherwise empty heads.
They weren’t the only ones without brains though. The incredibly stupid decision from on high to halve the number of tickets available for Millwall fans meant that many had no chance at all of getting a ticket, and were only going along for the battle outside. There has been lots of speculation on whether the fight was organised by both sides in advance. The question is irrelevant. It hardly had to be planned in advance.
I was very interested in Merion’s piece last OLAS locating the historical justification for the enmity in the events of the General strike of 1926. He explained how the shipyard workers/dockers on the Millwall side had scabbed on their comrades on the West Ham side. I’ve regurgitated this in my discussions with friends about the events that night. There we’ve been, discussing it at length, shaking our heads at the mindless violence, discussing levels of alienation and the desire for group identity and empowerment and such-like bollox, then coming back to the point that lots of alienated people who yearn for a sense of identity don’t need to walk along scraping their knuckles or chucking sticks and bottles. But then I’ve chirped up at the end with, “Mind you, there are of course very sound historical reasons why we hate Millwall…” and then reflected on the importance of memory, only to be brought up short by my friends commenting, “Yeah, Dave, but most of those who were fighting last week probably couldn’t remember what they were doing before their last pint , let alone what their great-granddads did in 1926,” which is a fair point.
But, at the end of the day, Millwall are still a bunch of scabbing bastards south of the river.
I see that the Evening Standard published some mug-shots the other day of those the police want to “interview” in connection with the events outside the ground. I’m full of sympathy for those who ran on the pitch. I’ve got no time for those who just wanted a ruck, though if they end up in court they might try what is coming to be known in legalistic parlance as the ‘Gerrard defence” which runs along the lines of “Yes I was there and I was hitting out but so were my friends, and my name is Steve Gerrard, and I’m a rich and famous footballer though I sound like a no-mark from Brookside Close, and it was all my mates’ fault and the fault of the guy I hit, who kept battering my fists with his face, is that all right, m’lord, our kid? Which way is the exit?”
Which brings us nicely to today when we entertain the likely lads of Liverpool. On paper it looks like men v boys (we’re the boys in case you are wondering) but we do usually raise our game against Liverpool, even if we don’t always pull off the result. And I’m clinging on to that to feel that we have a chance of taking a vital point from today. Although all this clinging on and pulling off is making me a bit tired.
I remember once hammering them 8-1. Sadly that was in a game of subbuteo about 30 years ago. But if we take all three points well, I’ll consider taking that leap on to the pitch from the Doc Marten’s Upper. So if you see a 51 year old somersaulting through the air as the whistle-blows, you’ll know who it is. If we lose and you still see a 51 year old Hammers fan somersaulting above you – take no notice at all as that’s definitely not me.
Welcome back
OLAS 463 August 23rd 2009
Several players booked, one sent off, fans drinking before and after the game like there’s no tomorrow, fists and missiles flying outside Upton Park tube at 5.15, police horses charging at the crowd and truncheons in full swing – and this was just a friendly game, a sort of gentle reminder to whet our appetites for the season ahead. Every summer I instantly forget the passions that are aroused just strolling down Green Street on a Saturday afternoon, but on the day of the Napoli game it all came flooding back - and only just missed my head!
Oh yes, it was also the day we reminded ourselves of the silken skills and gentlemanly conduct that make the British game what it is today, as we inaugurated the Sir Trevor Brookin’ Stan’ (that’s “Brooking Stand” if you are not from North East London/Essex and you think it is necessary to pronounce the final letter in words after the ‘n’). Trevor had his own inimitable way of enlivening and rousing the passions of the fans – a drop of the shoulder, a clever dummy, a curling shot in the top corner, not getting pissed as a fart and having a fight with the nearest Italian/cop/lamppost he could find. As a player he had a lot more composure than that.
Still it’s good to be back. I think. Usually at this point I have some idea as to what kind of a season we are in for, but this year I’m flummoxed. I’m writing this just after the Napoli game before heading off camping in France for a couple of weeks. While I’m there I won’t have access to the internet and will miss the comings and goings during what is likely to be the more fast and furious period of the transfer window. I’m hoping that when I come back to Blighty, Carlton Cole will have at least one pacy, powerful, experienced striker to have a 1:1 with here at West Ham instead of the 1:0 at the moment. But realistically, I won’t be too surprised to find that we have only managed to pick up an on-loan striker at the fag end of his career, while we have lost Neill and Upson from the defence. And sure, we will be told that every penny we pick up for them, will be reinvested in the January window. And, what’s more, we’ll all believe it, only to find that it has disappeared like last year’s funds to service our debts.
I’m not blaming Zola and Clarke for this; they are doing a fantastic job in the circumstances. Their hands are tied by our current owners, whose hands are tied by those they owe money too, whose hands are probably tied too… However, I also have a theory that the less time I spend looking at the internet praying for a transfer miracle the more likely one might happen (I know, completely unscientific) so by the time you read this it may all look very different, and who knows who will be stepping out in the Claret and Claret?
I nearly said “Claret and Blue” but that beautiful sky blue has all but disappeared from the Home kit – and that makes me feel kind of blue! As for the Away kit, well, let’s not go there. Aren’t these the shittiest kits that could have been dreamt up? I know we are hard up, so I am assuming these were “designed” on the cheap. But, fuck me, if we paid more than 5p each for those drab designs we were totally mugged.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not philosophically opposed to minimalist art and in many ways prefer a Rothko or an Ad Reinhardt to a Jackson Pollock. But, these shirts really are the pits. I’m not saying the kit has to be all flashy, but we ought to look the part. And back in the ‘60s and ‘70s, when Trevor was showing his silken skills, he did so in kits that were ahead of his time.
Have we ever thought of running an OLAS kit design competition and presenting it to the club? We couldn’t do any worse than the tossers they employed to do the job.
There was a rumour that Deano was going to feature on the ads for the new kit but pulled a couple of muscles putting on the shirt. Still a full recovery is expected within five years. Sorry for being cynical but all the claims we were fed last year that he would surely be back for a full pre-season have proved very wide of the mark. Either the club were not aware or not acknowledging the scale of his injuries or they were deliberately treating us like mushrooms: keeping us in the dark and feeding us bullshit. And all so that they could stretch the time-frame before they would have to dig deep into their pockets and finance the loan or purchase of another striker with real knees and ankles that all work.
It is very sad for Deano but my suspicions are not only that we won’t see him on the Upton Park turf again but also that I don’t think he will return to football at this level, despite the alleged interest of Stoke City. For his sake and ours I hope I am very wrong but, in any case, I think the club has accepted that they need at least one more reliable striker now.
All right I’ve had my moan. Now the brighter sides. Because there are very bright sides. Firstly we can only marvel at the number and quality of the youth players that are coming through. Some of these are young players we have bought in with Nani’s help – like Savio, Daprella and Nouble, others are home grown like Tomkins, Noble, Collison, Stanislas and Hines. They may not all make their mark this season but a few of them surely will. And, of that group, Noble seems like an old-hand but in reality he is still very young and learning his trade. He looked particularly sharp against Napoli and his efforts for the England under-21s have surely contributed to raising his game.
I don’t think many clubs, even among the top four, can boast such a crop of talented youngsters coming through. They could turn us into a bit of a surprise package this season and help us pull off some unlikely results, or they could really struggle with their confidence if the early results go against us. And if that is the case we will rely heavily on some of the more experienced hands like Scotty Parker and Keiron Dyer, both of whom are very capable and talented players but more likely to get through a season without serious injury than I am likely to be sitting down having tea with the Queen, discussing the price of Brussels sprouts. On the other hand, we’ve also got Gabbidon back from injury now and looking his old assured self and Valon Behrami soon ready to train again. Valon was outstanding before he was crocked, and is still relatively young.
The other bright star on the horizon is our new-boy - Jimmy. Against Napoli, Jiminez looked a clever and skilful player, who plays the West Ham way. I’m sure will set up some goals for us this year, and hopefully put some away himself. Jiminez, Behrami, Noble and Collison can all play those killer balls through a defence. But all the clever ball players in the world won’t make a difference if we are too shot-shy to hit the target. There was lots of clever approach work against Napoli but little final product. We only managed 42 goals in 38 games last year. If we don’t shoot very often we don’t score very often. Simple as that. It’s like the fella who prays to God and says: “Please God, let me win the lottery.” and God replies: “OK, I’ll see what I can do, but meet me halfway – buy a ticket!”
Several players booked, one sent off, fans drinking before and after the game like there’s no tomorrow, fists and missiles flying outside Upton Park tube at 5.15, police horses charging at the crowd and truncheons in full swing – and this was just a friendly game, a sort of gentle reminder to whet our appetites for the season ahead. Every summer I instantly forget the passions that are aroused just strolling down Green Street on a Saturday afternoon, but on the day of the Napoli game it all came flooding back - and only just missed my head!
Oh yes, it was also the day we reminded ourselves of the silken skills and gentlemanly conduct that make the British game what it is today, as we inaugurated the Sir Trevor Brookin’ Stan’ (that’s “Brooking Stand” if you are not from North East London/Essex and you think it is necessary to pronounce the final letter in words after the ‘n’). Trevor had his own inimitable way of enlivening and rousing the passions of the fans – a drop of the shoulder, a clever dummy, a curling shot in the top corner, not getting pissed as a fart and having a fight with the nearest Italian/cop/lamppost he could find. As a player he had a lot more composure than that.
Still it’s good to be back. I think. Usually at this point I have some idea as to what kind of a season we are in for, but this year I’m flummoxed. I’m writing this just after the Napoli game before heading off camping in France for a couple of weeks. While I’m there I won’t have access to the internet and will miss the comings and goings during what is likely to be the more fast and furious period of the transfer window. I’m hoping that when I come back to Blighty, Carlton Cole will have at least one pacy, powerful, experienced striker to have a 1:1 with here at West Ham instead of the 1:0 at the moment. But realistically, I won’t be too surprised to find that we have only managed to pick up an on-loan striker at the fag end of his career, while we have lost Neill and Upson from the defence. And sure, we will be told that every penny we pick up for them, will be reinvested in the January window. And, what’s more, we’ll all believe it, only to find that it has disappeared like last year’s funds to service our debts.
I’m not blaming Zola and Clarke for this; they are doing a fantastic job in the circumstances. Their hands are tied by our current owners, whose hands are tied by those they owe money too, whose hands are probably tied too… However, I also have a theory that the less time I spend looking at the internet praying for a transfer miracle the more likely one might happen (I know, completely unscientific) so by the time you read this it may all look very different, and who knows who will be stepping out in the Claret and Claret?
I nearly said “Claret and Blue” but that beautiful sky blue has all but disappeared from the Home kit – and that makes me feel kind of blue! As for the Away kit, well, let’s not go there. Aren’t these the shittiest kits that could have been dreamt up? I know we are hard up, so I am assuming these were “designed” on the cheap. But, fuck me, if we paid more than 5p each for those drab designs we were totally mugged.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not philosophically opposed to minimalist art and in many ways prefer a Rothko or an Ad Reinhardt to a Jackson Pollock. But, these shirts really are the pits. I’m not saying the kit has to be all flashy, but we ought to look the part. And back in the ‘60s and ‘70s, when Trevor was showing his silken skills, he did so in kits that were ahead of his time.
Have we ever thought of running an OLAS kit design competition and presenting it to the club? We couldn’t do any worse than the tossers they employed to do the job.
There was a rumour that Deano was going to feature on the ads for the new kit but pulled a couple of muscles putting on the shirt. Still a full recovery is expected within five years. Sorry for being cynical but all the claims we were fed last year that he would surely be back for a full pre-season have proved very wide of the mark. Either the club were not aware or not acknowledging the scale of his injuries or they were deliberately treating us like mushrooms: keeping us in the dark and feeding us bullshit. And all so that they could stretch the time-frame before they would have to dig deep into their pockets and finance the loan or purchase of another striker with real knees and ankles that all work.
It is very sad for Deano but my suspicions are not only that we won’t see him on the Upton Park turf again but also that I don’t think he will return to football at this level, despite the alleged interest of Stoke City. For his sake and ours I hope I am very wrong but, in any case, I think the club has accepted that they need at least one more reliable striker now.
All right I’ve had my moan. Now the brighter sides. Because there are very bright sides. Firstly we can only marvel at the number and quality of the youth players that are coming through. Some of these are young players we have bought in with Nani’s help – like Savio, Daprella and Nouble, others are home grown like Tomkins, Noble, Collison, Stanislas and Hines. They may not all make their mark this season but a few of them surely will. And, of that group, Noble seems like an old-hand but in reality he is still very young and learning his trade. He looked particularly sharp against Napoli and his efforts for the England under-21s have surely contributed to raising his game.
I don’t think many clubs, even among the top four, can boast such a crop of talented youngsters coming through. They could turn us into a bit of a surprise package this season and help us pull off some unlikely results, or they could really struggle with their confidence if the early results go against us. And if that is the case we will rely heavily on some of the more experienced hands like Scotty Parker and Keiron Dyer, both of whom are very capable and talented players but more likely to get through a season without serious injury than I am likely to be sitting down having tea with the Queen, discussing the price of Brussels sprouts. On the other hand, we’ve also got Gabbidon back from injury now and looking his old assured self and Valon Behrami soon ready to train again. Valon was outstanding before he was crocked, and is still relatively young.
The other bright star on the horizon is our new-boy - Jimmy. Against Napoli, Jiminez looked a clever and skilful player, who plays the West Ham way. I’m sure will set up some goals for us this year, and hopefully put some away himself. Jiminez, Behrami, Noble and Collison can all play those killer balls through a defence. But all the clever ball players in the world won’t make a difference if we are too shot-shy to hit the target. There was lots of clever approach work against Napoli but little final product. We only managed 42 goals in 38 games last year. If we don’t shoot very often we don’t score very often. Simple as that. It’s like the fella who prays to God and says: “Please God, let me win the lottery.” and God replies: “OK, I’ll see what I can do, but meet me halfway – buy a ticket!”
Sunday, 24 May 2009
Hard Times in the North East
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!!!!
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!!!!
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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