West Ham United

 Oh dear, about 2 Sundays ago after Philippe Christenval’s first goal since primary school had secured that dramatic point for Fulham I was sat sipping coffee, stroking the cat, looking out from my New York style loft conversion and admiring my well worked physique. Despite the result that day I was taking positives from the game. I truly thought a corner had been turned. I just imagined Curbs and his band of bounty hunters, desperados’ and kids from the other side of the tracks uniting, bonding and conquering all before him, maybe like the Wicked Willy franchise in the 80’s…….

I thought of how little Yossi Benayoun danced his way through the Fulham midfield with carefree abandon like a little elf with a magical piccolo, I thought of how I just had to shout ‘come on Nigel’ when the ball was in central midfield, I thought of angry Luis competing yet cheating and with my Bernard Matthews turkey roll for lunch everything was gonna be alright…I just knew it.

But yesterday changed all that, any kind of optimism, hope or faith was crushed, I left Upton Park a broken man. I fear for us, with our confidence as brittle as a wanker’s hankie we could well roll over like a national express coach on its way back from Aberdeen over the rest of the season.

I suppose this utter and total deflation of expectation is best surmised by Lucas Neill. It was chapter 4 page 26 from the Alan Curbishley manual of endearment.. An Aussie.. who used to play for Millwall…. on shit loads of cash….. gets seriously injured on debut. I already feel a special place in my heart for Lucas….

It was just a horrible afternoon, ok so it’s the cup, concentrate on the league etc etc. But our team selection, maybe it was out of necessity, was scary. It was midtable championship. Have we ever fielded such a make shift back four…. A less creative midfield, and such a shot shy strikeforce.

We’ve made our signings, just about shown our hand and not one of them you can see having the verve energy or ability to grab us by the scruff of the neck and get us out of it, like a lioness with her endangered cubs. Where is our  Bagheera to look after the man cubs ?Where’s our tiger on the games field ? no Les Ferdinand, no Rufus Brevett, No Bilic, No Hartson. Players that came in and immediately lifted all around them, hit the ground running. Fuck its depressing. Were going down.

I ask you already, Shaun Newton right midfield ??, ok he can’t help the fact he’s without neck and forgets to take the hanger out of his shirt when he plays, but that has to be the worst 45minutes I have ever seen from a West Ham player. Certain Irony that the Newton is the SI unit for force, cos there wasn’t a hell of lot of force on view in that performance let me tell you sonny jim… actually when searching for famous Newton’s, Shaun ranks quite highly, behind Isaac, Helmut, Wayne (I like the look him by the way) and Thandie but I suppose Shaun being the 5th most famous Newton is about as relevant as Jade thinking she’s the 25th most influential women in the world.

But trust me for those that didn’t attend he was horrific. From the magic of Yossi and his piccolo masterclass to this in 2 weeks. All I can do to make it better is post a picture of Thandie Newton.

Or if that doesn’t help then check out  Vinegar..natures secret weapon, maybe that’s whats missing from Upton Park..not enough vinegar.

The game in a low quality kinda way was relatively entertaining, especially if it had come without the backdrop of our current plight. The first half saw chances at both ends. Zamora hit the bar with a header in the first minute, Foster saved from Newton when put clean through and Cole curled inches wide from 20 yards out, and at the other end they had a goal disallowed and of course scored. Carroll, with more flaps than the Razzle Xmas special, was wholly at fault for the goal. Droppable is all I can muster.

Our makeshift defence just about held up to fearsome threat of Henderson. Spector and Dailly scuffed and scrambled most of the long balls to safety, but never comfortably and never in a way that would allows us to retain possession. If Watford’s game plan was all about Henderson, our game plan seemed it was more about Henson, Jim.

Reo Coker and Quashie like a couple of his doozers working away in midfield, Big Bird Carlton Cole upfront and Merv and Curbs, Statler and Waldorf. Wankers

“Come on Nigel, chase your cares away, troubles for another day..” 

“So whaddya reckon Merv…should I get back to the spectacles”

The second half was pretty much one way traffic, Zamora Newton and Boa Morte all missed golden opportunities, a couple scrambled off the line but we never looked like having the quality to score.. Quashie had took it upon himself to become our Liam Brady taking the ball of the centre backs, dictating the tempo, spraying effortless cross fields balls…well he tried but it was a bit more Karen Brady if the truth be told. But its not as if Mark Noble likes to play that role…or Javie Masch….oh no Quashie’s our man.

Curbs tried subs, but Teddy was lost, maybe his heart bleeds for Danielle, god knows he had to dump her but love is cruel, yes it is a mans world but it don’t mean nothing…

Oh Jesus where do we go from here…do you ever yearn for change…

Ratings

Carroll. – Calamitous Carroll, Roy of the Ricketts, one for Stu and all the grolsch bottle tops on your loafers wearers out there..Drop the Roy….quickly 3

McCartney – I thought he did ok, a bit one paced but I’ll give him a pat on the back. Well done Linda. 7

Ohohoh he comes from  America… (to the tune of Razor light rock on). I really wish he would speak to Ken Barlow and get himself a decent conditioner on his hair. He looks so uncouth at times, so unkempt, nothing a proper wash and blow dry wouldn’t sort out. And as the old adage goes a tidy haircut gives a tidy mind. A tidy mind is a tidy performance. Struggled but gamely. 6

Dailly – Struggled…but gamely. He did seem to carry Fuck yeh Jonathan at times , not as much as Ball carried Cannon for all those years but overall did ok whole hearted committed but quality just ok. 6

Neill – Does he look overweight ?? I reckon he went nuts on Australia day ate to many Anzac biscuits with vegemite got fat and then got injured. Was alright for his 15minutes till injury. 4

Luis. What a shocker from him. Looks like he’s moody punk and I’m not sure I like him. We need to keep Ethers as a reserve cos if Luis starts to serve up that kinda shite we need a viable alternative. He had a John Reid of an afternoon. 2

Nigel Reo Coker. By no means the worst, he only gave the ball away once which is an improvement and was involved in all our better moments. Suffered by the substitutions as we *cough* *ahem* went for it so he was shoved out on the right. I don’t think he’s playing that badly at the moment he does need his midfield partner to also be firing. But Nigel did ok…no doubt it won’t be good enough for Bada but I’ve given up on his unattainable standards he sets. No one will ever be good enough for Bada. 6

Kama Quashie – Decidedly average, he’s kinda almost good but not quite and he doesn’t do anything really well, just a whole bunch of things ok. Makes a few passes, makes a few tackles has a couple of shots but nothing outstanding. Bit like me in school sports jack of all trades master of none, if he could up it a notch and do everything that split second quicker he’d be alright. 5

Newton – Cock .0

Carlton Cole – Our best player, I’m warming to him and you can see him getting visibly fitter with each game. He’s not a massive goal threat but puts himself on the line and that’s not in Shaun Newton type way, He was my plus point. 7

Zamora – I just don’t get it, surely we have to start with teddy and then as the game gets stretched Bobby with that bit of pace comes on with 20 minutes left. Teddy of course is never gonna adjust to the pace of the game in the final 10 minutes and if he is gonna be involved at all he has to start. Zamora’s faults are well documented but it’s not his fault he’s starting, we have to direct interrogating eyes  at Curbs for that one.

Subs – no impact, apart from Pantsill, who looks totally and utterly bewildered by the whole experience. I wonder what his views on the gays adopting kids really are ?
CHOW

So just picture the scene, It’s New Years Day and Hangovers rule. Were stuck in this lifeless stadium known as the Madjeski surrounded by blue and white replica shirts and we’ve had to endure Tom Harks 4 times in the first 45 mins. We’re walking through the valley of the shadow of death and not only that its fucking raining.

This was pain, the mother of all chinese burns pain, where did we go from here………but then like a bolt from blue, like Jacko’s moonwalk at Motown 25, like meeting Skerrit sober we were treated to manna from heaven.

Out stepped on to the pitch the announcer and in his best Berkshire WWF drawl.’Isss Annnyyybody Huuuunnnngrrrrryyyyyy’ (apologies if you’ve already seen this stunt but for me it was all virgin snow so let me regale.)

From my head between my hands , I turned to Supergrass, Supergrass turned to me…we said ‘Dad can’t it really be?’

Well next thing we know the local dominoes pizza delivery guy walks onto the pitch and he’s only gone and got 5 mighty meaty’s in his ’stay hot’ bag.

We then turn our attention to the big screen ‘Whoooooo’s lucky stand is it going to be tooooodddaaaay’ the scoreboard spins…tension rises….’Ittttssssss THE EAST STAND’ cue wild applause, celebrations, high fives  low fives, fives up above fives down below…fives that are just waaay too slow.

‘buuuuttt which lucky block’ All eyes back to the big screen…. A through to Y - flashing past our eyes…..’BLOOOOOOOCCCKKK CCCccccccc’ Now you should have seen Block C, you ain’t seen a party until you see a block c, east stand, Madjeski, mighty meaty party.

Then we get down to the rows and then down to 5 seats and by this point everyone else is bored and having polite chit chat or maybe even bemoaning the fact that ‘its never me, I never win anything like that’ ’How come its always C block’ ‘Coppell needs to sort it out’ or ‘I’ve just found a moon rock up my nose’ but nonetheless a winner is selected.

Then in real Treasure Hunt style, the Pizza boy legs it across the pitch with his mighty meaty’s followed by a roving cameraman and he to clamber his way into the stand to deliver the pizza. Its gold I tell ya….pure gold. We were cracking up, not literally, well very slightly the wind was just the other side of harsh.  It came as little surprise when we saw Batters accepting his prize on the big screen. He didn’t leave a tip. That’s half time entertainment. Period.

With my mood lightened a little the second half was upon us and from pretty much nowhere the fans took centre stage. ‘We are west hams claret and blue army’ went for a good 20mins and everyone joined in bar none. They scored again but we didnt’ stop and then at 5 nil down we broke into bubbles and the real humour began. We got a corner and cheered like we scored, as we do, but then after being taunted (loosest sense of the word) with the Easy business we then gave them the easy business and they were flummoxed.

They then scored and cheered so we cheered, they then did the Tom Harks, so we did aswell. it was like when you copy exactly what someone is saying when your about ten. They shut right up. We had a massive hokey cokey, I even did the turn around, that is how honky tonk it was folks. Twist and shout was present and all the usual repertoire.

The jovial atmosphere did last though until the final 5 minutes , and it was after Zamora had flicked the bar with a sitter of a chance that things turned nasty and all the ‘not fit to wear the shirt’ chants vomited from the terraces and rightly so. 

When it comes to match and player analysis everyone played with a cuntish attitude. Cuntitude in fact. London apparently had is biggest ever sickie on Tuesday, well 11 of them decided to do it a day earlier and the only certainty these players can have is that they will definitely be able to put the cunt in scunthorpe when we play then next season.

From Curbs having his ‘organise quickly concentrate’ moment as the press picked up on ‘Get on the bus with a result’(infact I may now call him Blakey) to Marlon making a total dick of himself by telling us to liven up at the start, clenching his fists and bellowing ’come on’ to then be totally out played by Sonko, to Reo having Anton and Gabbidon almost by the neck telling them to fucking wake up, to Bowyers busted shoulder, and Yossi’s refusal to run more than 2 yards. Just a bunch of doughnut punchers

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Even that weird little gypo Hunt scored. Tiny little legs, don’t seem to be able to stretch them out properly when sprinting, no doubt his family are carney folk. Freako. Everything about the day stunk of pickled eggs.

So to sumise we look doomed but sport is for gays, reality TV is where real men hang out these days. A fantasy world where West ham can’t hurt or embarrass, a fluffy place where we are surrounded in televisual amniotic fluid…what was that?? …Winston Churchill the first black leader….TEEEDDDDYYY!!!

Ratings

Green - Stan Butler - 4

Dailly - Jack the conductor - 3

The rest - Olive - 0

Canoe and Andrew.

‘We’ll score again , don’t know where , don’t know when but I know we’ll score again some sunny day….altogether now…we’ll score again don’t know where don’t when…’ Cockney wit eh? What a crazy bunch of waccado’s we really are.

Man O Man (god bless that show) is this season depressing. I’m so so depressed I could be Peter Cech’s skull. What with Fred, I say Fred passing away and then a defeat to those bell ringing inbred south coast swampwhores..I’m not happy.

2 nil. And despite what Pards might profess it was a comprehensive defeat and all masterminded by 4 premiership veterans who  at some stage of their careers have all been a bit of a laughing stock.

Nwanku *titter* Canoe, Sol ‘change at Baker St’ Campbell, Andrew Cole and David Calamity, Nintendo, Jamo James did the damage with quality displays especially the 35 Nigerian years, 84 European years old Kanu. A goal from him and a late tuck home from Cole sealed a comfortable 3 points for Pompey.

But up until Kick off we’d had quite the day out despite Fratton being twinned with  New Jack City ‘give me a job Nino you gotta give me a job Nino’, we ended up in Gunwharf harbour and Toots Supergrass and I were in gentrification heaven.

Being the sophisticats that we are the Yachts, the Wine bars, the Frankie and Benny’s really became us. In fact as we sipped exotic Australian lager and ate Daloon rolls it really was living La Vida Loca and Supergrass was our furry Ricky Martin.

Unfortunately the talent wasn’t exactly top drawer in fact at times it was like being in the middle of a Picasso painting, cubist period. Needless to say Supergrass still managed a couple lazy’s.   

But as 2.30 rolled round, being the social chameleons that we are, we flicked into football mode; the Green St Elite were on the move. And as the game kicked off the team actually started well.

We dominated the opening exchanges, but very much like Extras and Fresh Fields we’ve got the second series blues, we’ve no killer punch line for all the decent build up play. And after 25 dominating yet toothless minutes Pompey scored with a Walter Softy of a goal.

 Ethers didn’t close down Johnson and as Kanu, yes That Kanu , the one famed for his aerial prowess and sharp movement in the box, evaded Anton. He was left free to shoulder home Johnson’s floated cross and past old squashy face in goal.

1 nil down and at this point you could have a stuck a fork in as we were as good as done. The rest of the half we were like the Unconventionals all over the place and wearing cardigans. Teddy decided to have a row with Johnson at one point and at another conjecture a fan got chucked out of the ground by 8 old bill in front of a rather bemused Mascherano. We were in  need of halftime inspiration.

I imagined that scene from the Wonder years, where Kevin Arnold joins the Soccer team and it’s full of all the geeks including his mate Paul and the one with twitch and their 12 nil down at halftime and Coach Pop Macintyre has his head in his hands as he realises what his life has become….

                                                 Kevin Arnold hanging with 16yr old 

So for Kevin read Nigel, I prayed he could deliver the locker room speech that would reignite Pop Macintyre and turn our fortunes around… But alas from that day on I knew things would never be the same…

No real reason for this photo..but its him yes Kevin Arnold (Fred Savage) as he is today. You would never have guessed would you… 

Second half we looked marginally more of a threat James saved well from Konch and Reo but Pompey never got to the desperate defending stakes and were never stretched.

Our play in central midfield was fine and generally up until the final third was ok but we lack belief at the moment, no one willing to take responsibility, no one wanting to take a man on, try the something unexpected..As I often say during polite conversations ‘It is better to be the widow of a hero than the wife of a coward’

But then as Yossi and Etherington skipped out the way of yet another tackle I was more inclined to agree with Sinitta and  say that he needs to be so macho.

So as our attempts at creating an attempt on goal became ever more futile, it left Pompey the chance to score a second. Gabby was back to his bingo winged worst and allowed Fernandes to get a run on him, bad communication from Anton and Spector allowed a simple one two to breach the defence and although Spector was unlucky like a Benfica keeper with his recovering challenge Cole was sharper than the rest to sweep home.

Game over and as we looked over at Pardew suited and booted I thought it’s gonna take more than a touch of spiff to get him through the next few weeks.

Yids next….it might hurt…

Ratings.

Roy’s Rolls – Crap, he is non existent  this season, he fills you about as much confidence as a Top gear health and safety manual. In fact as your on top of the players at Fratton park one fan screamed at him to ‘get ’em going’ and Roy let out this meek ‘c’mon Gabby your all very very nice people’. Boy did that shake ’em up. And I’m afraid Roy for that reason you’re out… 4

Konch – As average as it goes, couple of scuffers from the edge of the box, but none of the marauding, overlap to the byline, whipped in cross followed by a healthy dose of rape and pillage of the front row of opposing fans. 5

Gabby – What’s happened to him, lackadaisical ain’t the word. He needs some discipline.  If he was on ladette to lady that teethy headmistress would have that shirt tucked in and he’d be walking with a book on his head whilst arranging flowers until the cows came home. Unless he smartens up jolly quickly he is utterly utterly out of this team. 4

Anton – Not much better, no one tried to steal his watch which was a start, didn’t get into a fight which was good, didn’t get arrested so well done Anton things are looking up. Now about Kanu he’s 12 ft 7 and has size 18 feet watch him next time. 5

Jonnnaathhhaann – Beauty school drop out…A real life sweet valley high school quarter back in the team and he’s bound to be banging the prom queen. The all American dream, boy would I love a thick shake with this guy. Clean cut, Ivy League, Omega sigma frat….go defence…but can you imagine him on spring break…Party on Jonathan… Party on Monk. Excellent. 6

Ethers – Since when did we sign Charles Hawtry for the left wing? That Girls Aloud bint dropping him has a lot to answer for. Dirty Fuckpig I vow never to cough yoghurt over you again. Come on Matt.. for me.. 5

Mullins – MoM…yes our Man O Man. Just getting on with things. No doubt a simple man with simple pleasures but everyone needs someone like that. And after all this is said and done  I hope he marries his long-time sweetheart and starts a family up on his grandpa’s farm in the hills…but strictly avoids any camping trips herding sheep with Donnie Darko. That would be nice. 7

Reo Cokeleberry – Actually bad boy, rude boy, public enemy number one did alright. Dynamic first half but faded second. Been dug out enough this year. I predict a massive game for him at Spurs.  7

Yossi – What loser Charles Hawtry on one wing and Mr Bean on the other all the goal threat of Batters down mile end. He just had to be injured. He was the mayor of stinksville. Shocking. 3

Bob – he at least tried his best, but you know what’s he like, all fancy flicks and pretty teeth. Not one effort anywhere the goal…infact not one attempt from our inform striker…worrying. 5

Ted – Ummmmm First half was alright, involved and even a little fire in the belly. 2nd a total nonentity. I have to say I preferred him to Bobby but he is not the answer. I’d imagine in a winning creative team Ted would shine cos he still has touch and vision but in one scraping for anything like a goal he’s a passenger. Sorry Ted I love you and you bangtastic exploits but relegation scrap nah… 5

Subs – made no impact and the choice all wrong. 1

Gutted I’m nervous for Sunday and I when I say nervous, its Tena lady time
From Friday onwards…