West Ham 1 v 0 Everton                                          Wednesday, 6th March 2002
Kick-Off: 7.45pm                                                                    Att: 29,883

Everton : Simonsen, Pistone, Weir, Stubbs, Unsworth, Alexandersson (Graverson 72 mins), Gemmill, Carsley (Linderoth 72 mins), Blomqvist , Campbell (Ginola 65 mins), Radzinski, Subs : Gerrard, Clarke, Linderoth, Gravesen.

If there's one game that's not popular it's a mid-week away game in the Smoke, having to blag your way off work early is one thing we are used to. However, listening to Kipper's permutations of every possible outcome of each remaining game for every team below 10th place in the Premiership is almost too much to bear. He's not alone though and the talk was how badly we needed a result tonight and a win next up against Fulham if we are to ease the old nail biting.

Walter told the lads no argy bargy tonight as Mr Dunford says he doesn't want to fork out another £25k out the coffers, Archie said 'Bollocks, get stuck in!'

So as we all know Wally never let's you down with his selection conundrum and tonight we were not disappointed. Having played his best game since he joined us, Toby was dropped in favour of the weaker of the Ikea sisters, Alexandersson! When oh when will Nic EVER deliver? We hoped it would be tonight, this bloke doesn't just owe us a game, he owes us a season! The bench looked solid, so with a 4-4-2 formation it looked as if we were going for it, that'd do for us - as long as we didn't lose!!

The Toffees made a solid enough start, if anything we paid the Hammers too much respect, the two Swedes linked well early on but nobody was following in and the chance went begging and that was after just 5 mins. Super & The Rad looked lively and things looked promising.

First corner we won was on 15 mins but as usual it came to nothing. Do we practice shite corners and free-kicks all week at Bellefield? Then the alarm bells started ringing, Gemmill was caught in possession and a Di Canio's shot was deflected and skimmed the bar. The corner came to nothing but we needed to step it up and be quicker to the ball.

We hit back and Pisto put Super thru, he set up Carsley who shot straight at Wavy Davy from 18yds. Wavy had got himself another new barnet, this time it looks as though he's trying to get a part in the next Nescafe advert. Simo on the other hand was looking solid, a couple of saves from Di Canio and a good take from a corner and a great save from the feet of Cole, he was looking full of confidence.

This was here for the taking, West Ham might have had Kanoute back and Sinclair, the Itie & Cole in their line-up but they were looking weak in midfield and dodgy at the back, we just needed to put the effort in and it would come. It almost did right on half time when the Rad was gave a half chance to Jesper (who had just been booked for a foul) unfortunately he shot wide.

So we went in 0-0 at half time, if only we had a bit more belief we could have dominated this and gone in to the dressing room ahead. We were hoping for a half time rocket for Unsey, Carsley, Gemmill & Niclarse if we could boss this midfield in the second half, the game was ours for the taking. Sod the £25k Walter we need the 3 points.

HALF TIME 0 - 0

So how were we going to approach it? Go for the jugular or same old story? Well we soon found out Simo nearly committed hari-kari and the Hammers pressed two corners in two minutes. Di Canio closed down Simo and failed to set up Kanoute - a close shave!

It looked as though the players had been called upon to have a whip round for the £25k, they did not look up for it, what was going on? The news just filtered through that Ipswich were down and so too were Fulham, surely we must be up for the points now, 'Come on you Blues' the support was as good as ever 2000 plus WE knew how important this was and the encouagement was loud and proud.

Unsy took some stick for slack defence which resulted in him recovering and giving away a corner, from the kick Di Canio volleyed over, could it be our night? The Italian was not having the best of nights however we needed to watch Cole who was breaking regularly from midfield. Then sure enough he went and did it, pissed past Alexandersson and gave Simo had no chance as it took a wicked deflection off Sinclair's chest.

1 - 0 down and we didn't deserve it, Sinclair then had the nerve to claim it!

We had 30 mins to pull it back, The Rad went straight on the attack but it came to nothing again. The home fans were suddenly in voice, next we heard the shite had scored just as Super Kev limped off could things get any worse? Cue the introduction of Daveeeed, cometh the hour??

Super limped off down the tunnell just as Di Canio was tackled by Stubbsy and the homers screamed for a pen, the last thing we want to do was concede another but the Hammers had shown that if you shoot then you have a chance and Gemmill and Niclarse couldn't muster a shot between them. Shouts for Tommy were coming, the blue natives were getting restless, we can't rely on everyone else losing Walter!

Wally heard the rumblings and Tommy came on for The Fraud - Alexandersson & Toby for Carsley, surely we must see an improvement because we were dire, even the West Ham fans were jeering and who are they?

It wasn't looking good and was almost worse when Cole left Tommy for dead and put Kanoute through but fortunately he was offside. Ginola was all over the place when we wanted him up alongside the Rad, players were starting to have a go at one another and the writing looked to be on the wall!

West Ham brought Garcia on to replace Schemmell and were looking the more likely to add to their lucky lead rather than the Blues get an equaliser. That was until Tommy almost scored from our best move of the match, right from the back, Davy, Unsy, Gemmill & Daveed all involved before Tommy went past a couple and just had it nicked off his toe. Pisto was booked for being in the Smoke on a cold wet Wednesday.

The Hammers brought De Foe on and if anything given the delay for the substitution it was almost over, we never looked like scoring. What a bleedin' disappointment, we never created a thing, at half time we were well in it and God only knows what was said at half-time but we were shite in the second 45. We need 11 battlers, fuck the fines and the consequences if we are going to avoid the drop. This was a MUST NOT LOSE game and we lost it! We cannot afford to rely on the teams below us to carry on losing because it won't last, if it was a choice of 12 points or the Semi Final I'd take the points.

What a shit night and the home journey was still to come, now Kipper does that mean West Ham are still in the relegation fight? Who do they play on Easter Monday? How did the others go on? Can we get on to page One of Teletext if we win every game?!

FINAL SCORE 1 - 0

West Ham deserved this even if they were no better than us and scored a flukey goal, Blue Kipper Star Man is Davy Weir for keeping Freddy quiet, if only he was a forward!

Time and good luck have almost ebbed away.
By
Mickey Blue Eyes.

After the (difficult) Crewe and (disgraceful) Leeds games, to West Ham for what many of our fans consider a three points benefit match. But the foreboding I have felt mostly since last November just wouldn't go away. I didn't feel optimistic. It wasn't helped either by the thought of a five hour journey crammed into a minibus. Still, you make light of it where you can and according to your mood. It's a footy match and I am within sight of my season's goal of attending every away match we play. If achieved it will be a life time first for me so, whatever happens, it will be worth it.

Our odyssey began at twelve noon, nuisance mobile phones going off all over the place. Fred took the wheel while we all spoke sotto voce or snoozed off fitfully. There's only so much you can do with your knees stuck under your chin or wedged into a tiny space slightly to the side. When eventually you get out to stretch your legs you walk like a dismounted cowboy. Winter has almost gone though it clings on to the last in a high chill factor in the wind. High grey clouds everywhere. Motorways clogged as usual. England, early March. Then the journey took six, not five, hours. Like everybody else, by the time we arrived I felt like I had been on a rack. As we disgorged, en masse sinews crackled and tendons made indescribable noises.

We were in The Central again, a large pub which has seen better days. On a moby call, Ray-o immortally described it to a friend as being "on the corner." There was no attempt to calculate the number of corner pubs in Lahndan. But after a couple of pints you began to feel like a human being again instead of a concertina. Joints (no, not THAT kind of joint) loosened, faces relaxed and footy chat flowed. Familiar faces began to arrive, some of them cockney Blue Bellies. Then The Squire and ct turned up and we had ourselves a quorum. We were in the Footy Brotherhood again.

The Squire told me I HAD to see the Hammers' new main stand main elevation, that it was quite unique. He wanted an architectural crit. However, a faint grin-tug around the corners of his mouth gave the game away. You have to pay attention to the body language with this geezer, especially bearing in mind that this was also the fucker who brilliantly inveigled me into walking unknowingly through a pile of white dog shit last season. Of course revenge will be forthcoming when I get around to it. In the meantime you grin and bear it stoically and then wipe it off your walking shoes, preferably on The Squire's kipper.

A swift walk to the ground and then around to the outside of the main stand. Well, frankly, I am not sure I can find the right words for this. Really you have to see it for yourself. Even then you'll find it hard to credit the aesthetic evidence. It's, well, I kid you not, just fucking incredible. Even a Yank with his taste next to his arse wouldn't have done this, not even in that pile of tasteless horror named Las Vegas. Funny thing is, most of the appearance is fairly mundane. Some of the detailing isn't bad in fact. It's the usual expanse of grey wrinkly tin tacked onto the structural frame. At high level the uppermost seating terraces stick out and are relieved by two peculiar elongated recessed areas at each end. A small hotel is stuck in the centre at about four levels, fronted with standard glazed curtain walling in the club colours. So far, so ordinary, if reasonably busy.

Then you realise with horror and outrage to your good taste what The Squire was grinning at. You better sit down for this one. Each side of the curtain walling is something nicked off the club's badge. I won't bother you with the technical term but you'll recognise them as turreted battlements. Yes, that's right. The kind of thing you'll see at Flint or Windsor Castle. And they're in, so help me, fucking BEIGE, and they extend from ground level to the top of the curtain walling. They look like a bad discarded set from an old Errol Flynn movie, the Robin Hood one where he wore green tights and a pointed hat with a long feather as a phallic symbol. They look like they're made out of cardboard and nailed on with six inch nails. They look awful. They look like your six years old son was let loose on a drawing board. Worse, the fucking things WON'T GO AWAY. After the match, Texyla insisted on going to look at it. He said it much, much better than I ever could: "Looks like the entrance to the bloody Ghost Train at Blackpool." And you know what………………he's right.

Inside, the pitch is still set off to one side at a distance from the new main stand. Presumably this means the existing stand opposite will be demolished and rebuilt and the pitch moved over. Which is all very well and nice but it completely buggered me up the first few times the ball went out of play and I was out of me seat screaming, "What the FUCK are you flagging for!?" at a completely innocent linesman.

Actually, the whole ground is much better for the reconstruction work. It has lost none of its feel, mainly because the rake of the terracing behind the goals is slightly more acute than usual so this retains the appearance of fans close to the pitch. Not bad at all and generally well handled. The only thing which made me sad was a lack of 'Arry. Somehow, Glenn Roeder won't do. But time moves on, and so on and so forth. Get on with it.

Out on the pitch it quickly became evident hardly anybody wanted to get on with it. The best to be said about it is that we held our own. I know this isn't saying much but, honestly, that's the way the game was. It was like a pre-season friendly for the most part. The only highlight, pardon the pun, was Joe Cole's new peroxide 'air do. He's a busy little bee is our Joe but I felt the same as I did when I first saw him: He needs a good kick up the arse to be more constructive. His game would improve a lot if he could summon the effort to run at defences instead of along them.

I won't even try to catalogue the game. Frankly, there was fuck all to catalogue. There was loads of lateral movement and occasionally someone fell to the floor, or Di Canio hit a madly useless shot from wide left but that was about it. If we had had a clue or even slightly more effort I figure West Ham would have rolled over. We had enough possession. But nothing happened. It was that bad.

It was entirely in keeping that the second-half winning goal should come from a wickedly deflected shot which came off someone's backside en route. Simo had no chance.

Once again our midfield was virtually non-existent. My brief flirtation with Lee Carsley, predictably, is over almost before it began. Oh well. I tried. It wouldn't do to blame him, or indeed any of them. Playing motivation is badly needed. And that starts and ends collectively with the manager and the players. Everything else is, or should be, peripheral, unless it intrudes into playing matters.

SuperKev and The Rad had the kind of "service" you associate with Enron's pension scheme, i.e not there. Who is to "blame" for that? Kev took what looked like yet another bad injury and had to go off before the end.

All three subs were used and none of them had any affect whatever.

Straws clutching time: Simo and the defence played well enough. Davey and Stubbsy made a little progress as centre back pairing. Only Sandro looked a little out of sorts. We hardly ever looked in danger.

Whatever anyone says, this is a dressing room and management issue. To extrapolate beyond that might be compelling in a contemptible tabloid sense but is useless for any other purpose. Players have been bought. They are paid well. They have not performed to their known levels. Whatever early season chemistry was there has long since evaporated. The implications are obvious.

Over at the dotted line Roeder was out directing his players. Smiffy and Archie stayed glued to the bench. There's some irony that this state of affairs has reached this state again when our opponents are West Ham. Last time we beat them 5-0 and Smiffy stayed in his job. Had we lost, David Moyes would have been in place the following Monday. This time we DID lose but so close to the end of the season it is difficult to imagine anyone incoming would have enough time to turn it around. We are in deep, deep schtuck.

As the game wended its way to a tediously depressing close the fans vented their anger and frustration in the only way open to them. Justified frustration simmered through various cat calls. The only surprising thing was there was no organised mass reaction despite the occasional isolated attempt to start one. In fact the overall feeling was of sad resignation occasionally accompanied by wicked scouse gallows humour. Anybody who criticises these fans is a fool. They are the salt of the earth and they pay out a lot of their time and money in supporting their club. They are a world away from the gobshite opportunist Melledrew Tendency.

We went back to The Central afterwards for a few more beers and for morose reflection. All of us hunched and stared into the bottom of our glass as though that is where our beloved club is headed. Attempts at humour fell flat except when some Yammers started up with, "Going down, going down, going doooown!" and we responded immediately with, "So are we, so are we, so are weeeeeeee!" and that shut them up. After that, things brightened a little. Well, executions always take place at dawn.

We finally got back at 4.30 a.m. A solitary milk float was chugging its weary way through the empty streets. It struggled to climb a small incline. But it made a better job of it than we did our match at West Ham. Between now and the end of the season the question remains whether we fall off the precipice in front of us. Parachutes are not an option.

Life's a bitch, then you die. Hell, if it was only so simple.

Team News

Walter explained Gary Naysmiths situation: “He will travel down with us to West Ham and have a fitness test on Wednesday morning and we are hopeful he will be able to play some part.”

We don't think that Nace will make it time, but could find a spec on the bench. Gazza also travels but again we don't expect him to make an appearence.

The one thing we do hope and prey for is that the middle of the park need sorting. A fit and raring to go Gravesen should play from the start. But expect Walter to start with the same 11 as he did against Leeds.