Who needs realism?

Being sent this quote by a mischievous brummie has caused me to bite the bullet and vent:

"Whatever happened to West Ham? The name's the same but everything else is different. It's not so much that the club seems resigned to its fate, for even the booing that greeted the final whistle on Saturday sounded half-hearted, but the impression they've lost their identity that really causes disquiet.

West Ham used to be a club that stood for something. They used to play good football (although that particular reputation was exaggerated). They used to produce homegrown talent. They used to boast managerial stability. They used to be an asset to the Premier League. They used to be likeable.

Now they are owned by those two blokes from Birmingham, have no apparent style on or off the pitch, will probably soon open a search for a seventh manager in less than ten years, churn out journeymen continentals as regularly as lame performances, and seem locked in a deep malaise. Only the rank inadequacies of others can save them."

I was going to say it looks like their bitter bargain buy Reojoker (8.5 mill - chortle chortle) has found his voice. 

But unfortunately it is becoming a fairly accurate representation of what the biscuit barons, boring curbs, the velvet porn merchants and now an apparently nailed on move to a soulless corporate athletics stadium  is causing amongst real fans, (fyi Chris, that'd be the ones that attend games).

I know it must be bad when my dad is saying he wants to jack it in this early in a season,  normally that doesn't happen until at least december,  9 games must be a new record.  Probably not the only one that will be set this season, as the highest number of undefended crosses has also got to be there for the taking.

Yet what used to be a crushing realisation that we've played badly and are struggling is no longer crushing, because apart from the top 7 finishes and cup finals, hasn't it always been thus?

"West Ham don't compete, lose." Could probably rival this as a headline:

But I still get a masochistic enjoyment, still have faith we're about to turn the corner,  still stay to the death in every game because there's always, always a chance (albeit what currently looks like an infinitesimally small one) that a breathtaking combination of finesse, technique and power reminiscent of the best of tevez, di canio and frankie mac will enable us to score 3 goals in three minutes and wipe the smug grins off armchair fans, strangle the chants in the opposition throats and allow me to bounce my way through the rest of the week.

It might not be the best team i've ever seen, but it's far from the worst, and I'm already looking forward to taking my seat in the chicken run, feeling the cold and rain, hearing my dad hurl abuse at all and sundry while watching the mighty hammers take to the sacred boleyn turf once again.

Optimistic? You bet, in fact I think this might be our year for the cup double.

Roll on Wednesday... 父