Latic Acid: West Ham 3 - 1 Wigan

So this was the game to save our season.  Or at least make a start.  And it's very nice to come home from a freezing football match having won 3-1.  In truth it was quite a nice game because we had a team at our level who also want to play football (like us, they're just not terribly good at it) and these are absolutely the games we need to win.  Like the West Brom and Blackpool games that we didn't but today we had some good fortune.  When Wigan had a penalty at 2-0 up, it could all have started to go very wrong if they had scored.  But Rob Green saved what was, in truth, a pretty poor effort and we could leave off the nervousness until the 85th minute and our obligatory concession.

Our first two goals were surprising.  Behrami got into the box from midfield for Piquionne's knock-down, held off two defenders and prodded the ball home.  A very quiet Boleyn Ground found its voice. Then, in the second half, from his fiftieth shot of the season, Obinna found the net.  If that's his goals to shots ratio, we'll be well into the new year before we see another.  But the third goal was business as usual - Super Scott won a ball in midfield, drove forward and released Obinna to his left, continued his run into the box and beat the defender to the cross.  Determination, vision and skill all in the one package.

Of course we had time for the numbnuts to boo Carlton Cole coming on to replace Piquionne at 3-0 up - as if that's going to help the team. 

And even Avram managed to seem animated on the touchline, waving his arms around incomprehensibly.  But he had made a number of decisive changes for the game.  Ilunga was not even on the bench as was entirely proper after his abject display at Liverpool.  Gabbidon shuffled across to left back and Tomkins came into central defence.  Behrami and Stanislas came into midfield to replace the injured Noble and the incompetent Boa Morte.  Cole was on the bench with Obinna and Piquionne up front in a more solid 4-4-2 formation.  So maybe Avram was watching the same game as the rest of us last week.

Now it's just the two Manchester teams in a week - United in the fizzypop, City in the Premiership next Saturday.  The return of King Carlos is unlikely to bring us any points, but they're not in the league we need to win.  Blackburn and Fulham in the next two games are much more important for us.

It's the hope, always the hope .......

A sense of perspective: before the Wigan match

This week I was presenting awards at a Special School for children and young people with autism.  The awards were a range of GCSE and other certificates gained in the summer by this year's leavers.  The head teacher is completely passionate about all things West Ham (which is presumably why I get regular invites to this event) and makes sure all of the kids know this as an essential part of his (very warm) relationship with them.

It reminded me how much more being a committed supporter is than the matches.  It's part of my sense of identity, how I present myself in my work and how I relate to people (and they to me).  It's part of my history, as I started going with my father over 55 years ago and have gone with my children for nigh on 30 years.  And I have often joked that supporting West Ham is character building as you learn to cope repeatedly with disappointment.  Bubbles, fading and dying.

But when I see those young people who have faced and will face enormous challenges in their lives, and their parents and carers who share those challenges, it's also easy to see the joy that supporting something can give, the connection it fosters with other people, the relationship that it gives with supporters of other teams (who all understand how great it feels to win and the despair of battling relegation - Chelsea, Man Utd and Arsenal followers excepted, of course, but they're followers, not fans) as life-enhancing.

But that's how I feel before the 'save our season' ((c) The Pornographers) game.  Maybe I'll find it hard to be so philosophical afterwards.

Mersey Beat: Liverpool 3-0 West Ham; 20 November

To be completely clear, no West Ham fan expected to win at Liverpool on Saturday.  Given that it's 47 years since we last won there, and that Bill Shankly had summed up West Ham in his raw scotch accent 'West Ham, great team, great to play, four points every year' (when there were 2 points for a win, of course).  Given that we are rock bottom of the league and have only won once all season.  Given that we haven't won away since the first game of last season when we managed to beat Wolves.  Given that Super Scott Parker has finally succumbed to the effort of carrying the entire team and was sick (add your own punchline of choice).  Given that the quality and manner of our performances this season has been unremittingly dire.


So, as the old Rolling Stones song says, No Expectations.

Which gave a resigned ambience to watching the match on ESPN in Norfolk.  Both dogs could relax because I wouldn't be hurling abuse at the television set.  The Controller could try to engender some spirit by opining that 'this is the kind of game that they might win' or 'the pressure will be off them so they might perform' (that's a translation into football speak of her more novelistic, writerly comments), but without success.

So if, even in such circumstances, it's possible to be disappointed, it's an illustration of how very, very, very, very poor a performance it was.  The first few minutes set the tone for as lacklustre a non-showing as I can ever remember seeing.  Perhaps, the thought struck me, the players have as much confidence in their ability to win as I have.  But I'm not paid shed loads of money to at least put the effort in.  Mark Noble honourably excepted, not a single outfield player is worth his wages this week.  Even if they get paid 10% of what I think they get, they're not worth it.

The commentators were amazed by how poor West Ham were performing.  Chris Waddle, as the summariser, had a career as footballer that was hardly distinguished by hard running and putting his body on the line when it mattered.  So when even such as he is staggered by the 'efforts' of the team, it speaks volumes.

At one point, the commentator noted that Avram Grant was standing on the touchline 'but he's not doing anything', so at least his performance was of a piece with the rest of the season.

This weekend it's my elder daughter, Jessica's, birthday.  If she lives (as I hope) at least another 47 years she won't see West Ham win at Liverpool playing like that.  I would hope that she will never see a performance as bad as that, but we've still got the rest of this season to go.

Everybody now says that next Saturday's home game against Wigan is vital.  Even the manager has grasped that.  Whether he'll still be there to see it is another matter.

Blackpool Illuminations: West Ham 0 - 0 Blackpool; 13 November

Today my grandson, Connor, came to his first game of the season.  As he's so young (not 6 until December), he's building up his stamina.  That means he can only watch so much of the game before he wants entertainment.  I understand how he feels.  Today, the Nintendo came out after half-time, but half way through the first half he had predicted that the final score would be 0-0.

In truth, I still don't see how it became goalless.  Marlon Harewood reminded us of his striking capabilities by missing the cow's arse with a banjo again, but this time it was for the opposition.  Our forwards are all from the Harewood school of 'finishing' (which means they'll finish our run in the Premiership) but Super Scott couldn't save us this time, no matter how hard he and Mark Noble worked.  We just need to face it that the team isn't good enough.  Now we're six points from safety and have won once all season. 

Blackpool, by contrast, demonstrated what a well-drilled and committed team that knows its limitations (and also what it can do) can achieve with guts and endeavour.  Fair play to them - I hope they stay up by maintaining that form all season.

Why is it so dire?.  Well, only one of the new arrivals in the summer in defence can get a game.  Winston Reid, Tal Ben Haim, not even good enough for our defence.  Jacobsen is, but only because we haven't had a recognised right full-back since Lucas Neill left at the beginning of last season.  So from Blackburn reserves to our right side.  James Tomkins and Manuel Da Costa have been tried and found very wanting, Spector is a disaster.  Ilunga had a decent year and got a good contract and has since stopped playing.

Then there's our forwards. Obinna can't score despite all the runing and endeavour.  Piquionne is similarly unproductive, as is Cole.  As for Big Mac .... what a buy he was last January.

Scott Parker and others hold the midfield (as well as the defence and contribute goals), but we never look like scoring and always looks likely to concede.

No doubt Avram saw it differently and will blame the referee for not awarding a penalty, but they had an equally good shout.  And he'll talk about character and keeping going.

Now's the time for him to go.

After this season is over, I think it's time for me to go as well.

Thick and Fast: West Ham 2 - 2 West Brom; 10 November

Footballers are fond of saying that games are 'coming thick and fast' when there's a midweek game.  So, in eight days we shall have played Birmingham , West Brom and Blackpool.  So far, after the first two, the points have come thin and slow.  Two only out of the supposed target of seven from four games (including Liverpool away where our track record is, for West Ham, simply believable although unremittingly dire).

After each game I read our manager's comments either in his email to me (with random blocks of text in red print), or on the Pravda website, or in the public prints.  I am always convinced we have been at a different match.  Where he sees spirit and determination, I see heads go down and passive acceptance of the inevitable.  Where he sees us dominate the play, I see us likely concede every time the opposition attacks.  Where he sees our pattern of play improving, I see us inviting crosses and rarely marking in the box, especially very big and obvious players (Carroll? Jones? Jerome? Ibanez?)  We agree on one thing only.  Scott Parker should play with his pants outside, a cape and great big 'S' on his chest.  How he manages to carry so many underperforming teammates week after week is a mystery.  I only hope they're giving him their wages - he's doing their jobs, after all.  (This week, with the exception of Kieron Dyer. I won the sweepstake in our row about how long he would last because mine was the longest time at 75 minutes and he managed 90.  I don't expect to see him again for some time)

So we were completely lacklustre against West Brom.  Rigor Mortis passed more freequently to the opposition than his own side and then gave away a penalty.  Cole laboured and drew more crowd derision.  Upson and Gabbidon didn't defend crosses, Jacobsen and Ilunga didn't cut them out.  For fifteen minutes arouf half-time we played and the shrank back into our shell as we waited for the equaliser.  The surprise was we held on for a draw.

So the controller has initiated discussion about what I'll do about my season ticket next year when we're relegated.  When, mind, not if.

My bold statement is I'll stop going.

And I mean it.  Whether or not we're going to move to the Olympic Stadium.  Whether or not Avram stays as manager.  Whatever the quality of the Pornographers' bullshit.

So Blackpool at home is a big game.  Lose and I know we're finished even this early.  Win and who knows.

So I'm predicting a draw.

Consistency: Birmingham 2 - 2 West Ham; 6 November

I was updated by text message on the progress of the West Ham game by my son, Jack, who was watching on-line in Brighton.  I was in a foreign country - Scotland - while this virtual world emcompassed me.  In addition, my other son, Joel, sent text messages (but much later as his text updates had to come through to his phone first) and I tried to log on to Sky Mobile on my iPhone with intermittent success. 

Why the anxiety?  I'd chosen to go to see Becky and her partner, Andrew, in Glasgow.  I knew part of me thought this was an opportunity to avoid the inevitable disappointment of another West Ham game.  But still, I couldn't not want to know what was happening. 

Following the team and wanting to know the score has been with me for over half a century.  My earliest memory is of Dad coming home from games and telling me the score and how we'd played (usually we were crap).  Then I remember the wireless that developed from Sports Report into bulletins during games and then, sometimes, even a live commentary.   There were the evening classified reports in the paper ('Star, News and Standard') that were always full of early match detail and brief final score updates to meet printing deadlines and be on the street corner by 6..

When television came along a new visual grammar of immediacy came in the shape of reporters actually at games that we couldn't see giving us breathless reports.  And to follow there were highlight programmes on BBC and ITV.  All, of these, of course, were on a Saturday evening, the day ordained for football until the Sky money bought its soul.

Many of these could be followed, if the team was away, while out Saturday afternoon shopping, on radios or televisions in shops.  And, as I can attest from working abroad in the 1970s, via the BBC World Service (by fading short wave at weird times of the day in the Middle and Far East).  Thousands of miles away, often late at night and listening alone, I still felt part of collective disappointment of West Ham fans (except when we won the 1975 cup final as I listened in Saudi Arabia and was inspired to teach my English class of Saudi Princes to sing "Bubbles").

But what I still can't break, is the desire to know, even when (especially when) I expect the news to be bad.

And to find out West Ham were 2-0 up, only to draw 2-2, was, in its way, almost predictable.  Really predictable would have been to lose (after all, we've managed that after leading 3-0 TWICE!).

So, still bottom of the league, another email from the Manager about how we played well and didn't deserve to lose and how we're determined to put this right for next Wednesday's game against West Brom (the only team whose name begins with a 'W' not in the bottom three).

Even the Controller has begun to sympathise with the predicament, so it must be bad.

West Ham, a bad season.  Consistency.

Leaving the country: vs Birmingham 6 November

Today I'm going to Glasgow.  That might be an extreme way of avoiding West Ham playing Birmingham, but I'm going to visit my younger daughter for the weekend.  Missing the game against Birmingham is only a welcome bonus.

Still perhaps the pornographers will pull something out against their old flame, and Karren Brady will enjoy her return.

But I wouldn't bet on it.