It's what you do next Saturday

OLAS 474 December 26th 2009

By the smiles at the end of the game you’d think we had won handsomely but psychologically the single point we gained from last Sunday’s 1-1 draw was worth as much as a victory. The extraordinary results on Saturday with Portsmouth winning comfortably against Liverpool and Fulham hammering Man U simply built up the pressure for our game against Chelsea. Portsmouth were now level with us on points at the bottom, on the same goal difference, but having scored fewer. So a defeat even by one goal against a free-scoring Chelsea side would have made us bottom at Christmas. The statisticians would be out in force gleefully telling us what almost inevitably happens to the team in that position. Meanwhile with Man U faltering but Arsenal keeping pace, Chelsea knew they could extend their lead at the top if they completed what looked on paper like a routine task of rolling over the team that had succumbed so meekly at Birmingham and Bolton recently.

But the unexpected happened. The Hammers played as if their lives depended on it and were unlucky not to snatch all three points. The team kept its shape, was not fazed by losing a key defender early on (Tomkins was magnificent as substitute), worked for each other, ran off the ball to create passing options, harried Chelsea when they were in possession, tackled with fierceness and determination and even won some balls in the air. Most of Chelsea’s efforts were long range and they had few opportunities to plant dangerous crosses. When they did get through, Green was determined no to be beaten making two crucial saves. And going forward Diamanti was inspirational, Franco was always a threat and Noble, Collisson and Parker were outstanding.

And had it stayed at 1-0, I would have been in the money too. Gambling has been part of my family heritage. I always thought my dad should have been given some kind of “lifetime service” award from Ladbrokes, having crossed their threshold religiously every day for decades to make a small investment in their growing empire. When I was very young I would hear my mum ask him how he got on with the horses and he’d invariably answer – “I was winning but then I gave it back”, and for years I thought he was just such an honest decent guy he couldn’t even bear to take his winnings – it was just the idea of winning by forecasting the future that thrilled him. Then one day it dawned on me what “and then I gave it back” really meant! Though he was indeed a thoroughly decent and honest guy from whom I inherited not just a tendency to gamble but support for the underdog, an intolerance of racism, and a quirky sense of humour. Thanks.

My granddad too, on the other side of my family was smitten young with the gambling bug. One of this first jobs was helping to install one-arm-bandits in pubs and his contribution to the Home Front during World War 2 was managing an amusement arcade in East Ham. Throughout his life he couldn’t resist a bet. It got him into trouble in the late 1960s when he was working as a porter in Billingsgate Fish Market, and would sometimes go out on the van, delivering to fishmongers and bringing back their payments to his boss. He had this rather enterprising idea that this money, which was not his, might be used to make more money on the way back if it was invested on the right horse. Trouble is he knew fish better than he knew horses. He blew the money, and I guess his face would have been as red as smoked salmon as he tried to explain what happened to it. His boss took him to court and he was lucky to escape a custodial sentence.

Towards the end, in his mid to late 80s, he was beginning to suffer from dementia and my mum was pulling out all the stops to find him a place in a decent care home. She found one with a special secure unit for people suffering similarly who could easily get lost and confused. On the first day he absconded from the home’s secure unit. No one could find him but he was eventually tracked down in a bookie’s about half a mile away. Now what would be the odds on that? Not too steep I guess.

So as I was walking past William Hill near Queen’s Market on my way to the Chelsea game I had half a mind to have a little flutter on a correct score, but the correct scores going through my head that were most likely and were so unbearable I couldn’t put money on them and I started to walk away. But I was drawn back – as if under the family spell – and once inside I knew I couldn’t bet against West Ham so I wrote two bets – one for West Ham to draw 0-0 and one for West Ham to win 1-0. As you can imagine I got pretty good odds.

I was ecstatic as a pig in shit at half-time to see that not only were we winning but at least one bet was still on. I momentarily thought that it would be so West Ham to score another, trash Chelsea but fuck up my bet too! But I could live with that.

As I handed over my betting slip for West Ham to win or to draw, the guy behind the counter was visibly smiling to himself as if to say “Thanks, mug, do come again”. If you’re employed in that job you are supposed to be professional and look neutral when people put their bets on, however left-field. OK, so in the end they kept my money but it was a mightily close run thing.

As I came out of the ground though, beaming with delight not just at the score but at the manner in which we won that point, the words of one of the world’s great philosophers were in my ears. We‘re not talking Socrates, Descartes, Wittgenstein or Charlie Marx here but that true fount of wisdom, the great and revered Ron Greenwood, who told us:

“Football is a game of tomorrows. It’s what you do next Saturday that counts.”

That could not be more true. Our fantastically hard-worked for and richly deserved point at the expense the league leaders will only truly count if it spearheads an equally committed performance against our lowly rivals Portsmouth – who also head into this encounter on the back of a great result. We have home advantage and the knowledge that on the same weekend last year we ripped them to shreds 4-1 on their manor.

Portsmouth gave warning, though, that they are determined to pull off an unlikely escape and they have sharpshooters up front who can do the business, so it will clearly be a tight game, but we surely have the quality to win.

For me personally it would be the perfect early birthday present. I was born on January 1st and West Ham stuffing Portsmouth will satisfy me more than any other present I might receive marking my 52 years on the planet.

On my actual birthday we are reviving a tradition in our household that has lapsed for a while, of visiting Highgate Cemetery for a walk with friends among the graves of some people who have inspired us. We’ll be among those of Claudia Jones – the American woman deported for political activities who was the moving force behind the Notting Hill Carnival, George Eliot, the female author who needed to adopt a man’s name to get published in Victorian England, Michael Faraday, who discovered electricity, the painter Henry Moore, and of course Karl Marx who knew a thing or two back then of what life promised for ordinary working people under the rule of the bankers and wankers.

What he would have made of those financiers whom OLAS writer Gary Portugal dubs the “Icelanpricks” would have been enlightening. Karl Marx described landlords, as those “who love to reap where they never sowed”, and capital in general as ‘dead labour, which, vampire-like, lives only by sucking living labour”.

We, and the team we love, have undoubtedly been sucked dry, but at least on the pitch last week we saw there is still some fight left. Just 7 points separate 11 teams at our end of the table, so despite the pessimism we have all been expressing there is everything to play for. And we can continue where we left off by winning 2-0 today. Three points and a clean sheet would be worth its weight in gold (and Sullivan).

The team showed in those 90 minutes against Chelsea that they have the wherewithal to rescue us on the pitch. But that is only half the battle. We, the fans, need to be more vocal and act collectively off the pitch, to win back the club that is so important in our lives. Enjoy the game. COYI!!!!!!