Thames Ironworks FC was formed in 1895 by platers and riveters working for the ironworks and shipbuilding company in Canning Town on the banks of the Thames. It evolved into West Ham Utd FC owned, managed and supported by a succession of geezers and chancers.
Although it is only one of eight clubs not to have played outside the top two divisions, West ‘aaam Oi! has never achieved the success or popularity of the others in that elite group which includes Arsenal, Chelsea, Liverpool, Man Utd and Tottenham. They were of course briefly fashionable in the summer of 1966 when the England team captained by Bobby Moore won a game against Germany in the days before goal-line technology and qualified linesmen.
West Ham’s greatest achievement was winning the inaugural Football League War Cup in 1940. The squads of most of the top teams had been depleted by players patriotically responding to the call to arms in defence of the realm. Fortunately for the ‘ammers the majority of their squad were exempt from military service due to their reserved occupations as purveyors of jellied eels, whelk stall artisans and owners of pie ’n’ mash emporia. Oi!
A few years ago the current owners, those charmless titans of top-shelf titillation Gold and Sullivan (the Waldorf and Statler of football club chairmen, albeit without the insight and self-awareness) tried to gentrify the club by moving it from the East End to the former Olympic Stadium. The locals couldn’t Adam ’n’ Eve it, thought they was taking the Gypsy’s kiss, they was in a right two ’n’ eight, out of the frying pan into the Danny Dyer, and heading for some proper Barney Rubble. Oi!
It didn’t go well. Fans complained that their enjoyment was compromised by the distance of the seating from the field of play resulting in a less intimate match day experience. Worse, the opposing fans were so far away they were forced to scrap amongst themselves. Oi!
Prior to the move, Gold and Sullivan had struggled for some time through a deadly combination of incompetence, hubris and bad luck to attract top players to the club. Soon after assuming control they tried to ingratiate themselves with the fans by making a marquee signing. They failed to entice the out of contract Ruud Van Nistelrooy despite offering him £100k a week, were turned down by Didier Drogba when he was playing for unfashionable French club EA Guingamp, and they missed out on an 18 year old Brazilian kid by the name of Neymar and a teenaged Petr Cech.
Best of all (sorry, most regrettably) in 2012 they withdrew their interest in Spain’s Euro 2012 -winning striker Negredo in favour of pursuing a permanent deal for on-loan striker Andy Carroll. Negredo signed for Man City. He scored 23 goals in his one season there, including a hat-trick against The Hammers. Carroll managed 23 goals in four seasons. Oi!
It really is hard to sympathise for a club that lists Sam Allardyce, Harry Redknapp and a long list of wrong ‘uns on its club Roll of Dishonour. In particular, and Without Prejudice, appointing Harry Redhanded probably seemed like a good idea at the time - a former player with a solid track record as manager, a good list of contacts and a ready supply of brown paper bags, apparently. But suspicions will always remain that his relatively successful spell at the club (a 37% win ratio and joint winners of the UEFA Intertoto Cup) was predicated on deals that might have made the craftiest of cockneys blush. Oi!
After being caught on camera definitely not negotiating a bung, Harry declared himself emphatically and impressively to be ‘one hundred million percent innocent’. Subsequently acquitted on a separate charge of conspiracy to defraud and false accounting, Rednabbed clarified his earlier claim, stating that given that the radius of his innocence had been independently verified as 42, the full circle of his good character when multiplied by Pi (3.141593654…) was 5,538.96.
After a police raid on his home an outraged Harry declared ‘If this is justice I’m a hypotenuse’. Subsequently cleared of two charges of cheating the public revenue, a fully vindicated Redknapp declared that his blamelessness was so vast that it had been referenced in Wiles’s proof of Fermat’s Last Theorem.
Recently crowned ‘King of the Jungle’ after winning the latest series of ‘I’m A Celebrity Get Me Out Of Here’ seeing off the challenge of Noel Edmonds, that bloke from the Dr Who spin-off, and a tally of telly Z-listers, Redknapp was taken to the hearts of a TV audience who warmed to his tales of domestic indolence and anecdotes about accidentally running over his wife. Oi!
He has taken advantage of his new status as National Treasure by expanding his media profile, joining the Alan Partridge radio show as family finance guru in a regular slot called ‘Tighten Your Belts, Losers’ and appearing on Melvin Bragg’s ‘In Our Time’ to discuss the life of Greek philosopher and mathematician Thales of Miletus.
But enough of the opposition. Let’s be fair, after recent results we’re in a bit of a pickle. Actually it’s worse than that. If the late English character actor Wilfred Pickles had been walking Pickles, the terrier who discovered the stolen World Cup, through the Branston’s World of Pickles visitor centre and had accidentally fallen into a viscous vat of diced vegetables, vinegar and spices, his final words as he turned to the dog might well have been ‘We’re in a bit of a pickle, Pickles, but we’re better off than Cardiff….’
And with only three homes games left after today - Chelsea, Liverpool and Palace, and away fixtures against both Manchester clubs to come, I’m not sure that Warnock’s insistence that today’s game is not a ‘must win’ cuts the mustard.
We took our seats at the usual time and looked around at all the empty seats wondering if the majority of fans had already thrown the towel in, but the clash with the Scotland v Wales game meant that at 2.30 the majority were sensibly still in the pub. I spent the first half tuned into the rugby desperate for a feel-good victory at Murrayfield to offset the sombre mood at the CCS. In the event the Welsh victory was but a very welcome hors d‘oeuvre to settle the gut and cleanse the palate for a mouthwatering plate served up by ‘les cordon Bleus’.
On the back of three successive defeats, rumours of a troubled dressing room and a season-ending injury to the talismanic Sol Bamba this was so much more than we had any right to expect. Although Manga is a ready replacement, playing in his preferred central defensive role, Bamba’s influence as motivator-in-chief and Warnock’s proxy is not a role that anyone else can easily assume. This was the day for all to take personal responsibility, and contrary to all expectations to a man they proved that they were up for the challenge.
Murphy and Hoilett were given starts and with Camerasa returning for his first home game in a while the balance looked good, notwithstanding any reservations about playing Niasse as a lone striker. The midfield immediately took control and had the opposition on the back foot in a lively start. After just four minutes a sweeping move involving the pivotal Camerasa-Murphy-Hoilett attacking force provided an initiative that we never looked like surrendering.
A ponderous West Ham were being outfought, particularly in midfield with the outstanding heel-snapping energy-sapping Arter aggressively closing down any options. The home fans, starved for so long of a performance of this quality were getting a bit cocky, teasing the away fans with ‘You’re just a bus stop in Millwall’ and offering advice about where they might place their celebrated bubbles. When, with one of the few sorties into our penalty area in the first half Hernandez fell under the challenge of Manga only to be rewarded with a yellow card for diving right in front of the Canton End, you sensed that for some the afternoon was already complete.
At the start of the second half £36m record signing Brazilian international Felipe Anderson was replaced by the hateful Arnautovic, back in the squad having failed with his agent brother to manoeuvre a £35m move to Shanghai and seeing no irony in pledging his future to the club, beating his chest and kissing the badge.
His introduction made little difference as we continued where we left off, full of intent going forward and stedfast in defence. Just 7 minutes into the second half the Hoilett-Murphy-Camarasa axis delivered again as Junior broke down the left and put in a perfect cross for Josh to nod down to Victor who bundled the ball over the line. 2-0.
We were now rampant and had a number of chances to increase the lead. Gunnarsson put Niasse through and bearing down on goal with his customary turn of speed leaving two defenders in his wake, but he somehow conspired to loop his shot wide of the post as Fabianski closed him down. For all his enthusiasm and tireless running Niasse lacks finesse, not looking remotely like a natural goalscorer. He’s a provider. This is the role that he was expected to perform for Emiliano Sala.
A Fabianski double save from Niasse and Camerasa meant a potentially nervy last 30 minutes as the midfield tired and West Ham found more space, particularly after Samir Nasri was introduced. But apart from a speculative shot from Rice which beat Etheridge and ricocheted off the inside of the post, the opposition rarely threatened.
This was certainly the most complete performance of the season and with results elsewhere not working in our favour, a very timely return to form. Events have conspired to leave us without a game for three weeks when we will welcome Chelsea. Three of the next four games are against top four sides, with a vital relegation clash against Burnley sandwiched between.
