Sometimes I think I might be a bit wrong in the head. The 4-0 dismantling of Barnsley didn't soothe all of my West Ham fears, and massed rejoicing about us 'playing the game the right way' all of a sudden didn't ring altogether true for me. It was better for sure, but all things considered, it was a dire Barnsley side, and there were long periods of frankly rubbish football being played by both sides. 4-0 seemed to lend the game a lustre it didn't deserve.
The first 26 minutes of the Birmingham game however...
Okay, maybe not all of those 26 minutes. The start was a little wobbly but then we settled into a nice attacking rhythm, with the ball on the floor, to feet, with a fluidity and creativity that had been in horribly short supply for the prior gawd knows how many games.
The reward for this bright start? Being 2 goals down. Shortly after the second goal, and the ball had been plucked from the net and placed back on the centre circle, West Ham collectively fell apart. The passes went astray, the tackles were missed, the marking went walkabout, communication disappeared and yet somehow, entirely against the run of play, we grabbed a goal. As quickly as the candle of hope had been lit, it was extinguished by a goal best described as 'fortunate'. Mis-hit, and struck downwards on the half volley into the turf, it popped up fairly unthreateningly, but somehow eluded the entire gaggle of West Ham bodies between it and the net. It looked calamitous, because it was calamitous. We were staring down the barrel of 3-1 with half time mere seconds away, and it felt rotten, somewhat unjust, but altogether typical.
If I'm perfectly honest, I expected nothing but more misery from the second half. That feeling was compounded by the withdrawal of Maynard, who as ever had looked lively and along with Vaz Te, most likely to provide goals. Carlton had merely looked like Carlton, and he stayed on the pitch, with Lansbury replacing the more promising looking Maynard. I banged my head on the arm of the sofa, and looking the cat square in the eyes asked "does Sam have the faintest bloody clue what he's doing?". The cat didn't answer, but as it turns out, Sam did seem to know what he was doing. Lansbury threw himself into the battle head first, and seemed to be at the beginning, middle and almost end of everything we were suddenly doing right. If Noble disappeared from the game after a bustling first half, then Nolan, who had been largely anonymous in the opening 45, appeared re-energised and with Lansbury orchestrated a great comeback.
Initially Carlton did nothing to suggest he shouldn't have been the forward being substituted, but while the referee continued to ignore penalty shouts and turn a blind eye to niggly fouls, Carlton took it upon himself to grow into the game, becoming increasingly dangerous as the minutes ticked by. The second half was easily one of the most breathlessly entertaining halves of football I've seen in a good long while, if only by virtue of the sheer effort being displayed by the home side. Some of it was pretty, but on the whole it was just an unending assault on the Birmingham goal. At some point after the second home goal, it seemed inevitable that we would equalise. That doesn't mean for a second that my heart wasn't pounding out of my chest, and that my nails hadn't been chewed back to somewhere near my elbows. It just seemed like this effort and endeavour couldn't result in anything less than a third goal, if not maybe, just maybe, a winner.
The winner never arrived, and with a win for Reading against Brighton on the Tuesday night, it wouldn't have made too much difference. Reading seem to be a juggernaut right now, and I fully expect them to take the title. Automatic promotion is gone for sure, but this comeback should provide all the confidence we need to mount a strong finish, and to battle through the play-offs. Sam needs to resist the urge to change a winning side, and to look long and hard at the positives of the last two games and realise that none of those positives are to be found among his usual tactics.
Our squad should have romped this division. When you look at what other clubs are making do with, and achieving, our tentative, wobbling end to this season is rather embarrassing. Expectations have been high simply because of the quality we boast in this second tier. It's certainly not a side that would compete in the top flight, but automatic promotion should have been nailed on.
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
BOGOF....or Bog Off.
Two matches for the price of one. Crystal Palace and Cardiff. Two games, equally disappointing as we contrived not to get anyone sent off. It's frankly unacceptable.
Otherwise it was tricky to tell the games apart. Obviously the latter fixture resulted in a surplus of two goals and two extra points, but otherwise it was remarkably similar to the first. A lot of huff and puff, but little in the way of tactics or direction or football to admire. The Cardiff game did, I have to concede, feature a spell of pressure from the Irons in the second half where it almost looked like we knew what we were doing. Passes were strung together, and we seemed to be performing as a unit rather than a flat back 9 lofting it up to the too-short-to-win-headers Maynard. I feel for Maynard, poor bugger. This guy looks a handful. A bundle of energy, with a nice first touch, good control, bags of pace, and a refreshingly attacking instinct. I like him. A lot. Goals or no goals he adds a dimension to the team that we've lacked since Bellamy really. A succession of loanees up front, punctuated by the arrival of the revelatory Ba (until we dragged him down to the levels of performance expected by Avram), almost made me forget how forwards were supposed to play. Maynard has reminded me. Sadly, sparse opportunities to see West Ham on the television means that I've seen Baldock play for about 10 minutes in total. He looked sharp too. For those 10 minutes.
I'd like to comment on how Vaz Te looks up front, but he's stuck out on the wings, making a strong case for himself as someone who doesn't really play very well stuck out on the wings. I expect to see a lot of him stuck out on the wings. His enthusiasm and effort are not to be sniffed at, but, he's just not a winger to my eyes. God forbid Big Fat Sam should alter the system so that we're not reliant on wide men up front in his 4-5-1 / 4-3-3 / whatever it is formation. Yes, I know we're missing Taylor, and that Faubert isn't a long term solution on the right, but...oh, what's the point. You know Sam will stick stubbornly to the formation that only succeeds in isolating a front man who clearly loves the ball at his feet, rather than at his throat.
The Cardiff game at least had us in control, if only because Cardiff looked so wretched. We didn't look like we'd lose the game. The Palace game was just two teams bereft of ideas, or any kind of spark, doing their mediocre best not to concede. It was a hateful 90 minutes. Plenty of effort, and certainly not worth booing, not that I'd ever boo, seeing as I'd look silly doing it from the sofa, but it was still a game lacking in any entertainment value whatsoever. Rob Green emerged dignity intact with his usual couple of valuable saves.
Cardiff looked like a team still playing extra time in a Carling Cup Final. We should have been three goals to the good before people had even settled into their seats. Some defensive cock-ups on the home teams behalf forced their goalkeeper into action as Maynard carried on his 'he looks lively' streak. Nolan, back in the team after his....ummm...welcome(?) suspension was completely anonymous until he scored a peach of a goal. I guess that, right there, is his value in the team. Our other midfielders aren't netting, and he does. What do I know. Whatever my merits in being able to accurately discern what is taking place on a football pitch, Nolan did eventually become more of a factor in the game. Encouraged to push forward from what started out as a deep central midfield position, he did start to influence our attacking play, and filled the gaping void between everyone else and Maynard.
McCartney deserved his right footed goal after a lung-busting, never-say-die, bundling run down the left flank. There was no denying we deserved to be two goals up, if only because we'd fluffed earlier opportunities. That said, it didn't smack of a two - nil performance. The back four looked solid, and Faye is the perfect foil to Tomkins. Tomkins is now a classy centre half, and no denying it. Faye is a no-nonsense, get the job done, none shall pass, centre half. I wish we'd had him from the moment the club decided to whisk James Collins off from under the nose of Gianfranco. Noble put in another everywhere all at once performance, but like the game itself, it was all effort and little reward. Vaz Te looked marginally more effective on the wing...and then the other wing. It was bitty and patchy and fragmented stuff though, like my rambling writing. Doing a lot of stuff, but a lot of stuff rather ineffectually.
I shouldn't sniff at 4 points over two games, especially when an away fixture at Cardiff looks tricky on paper. I will sniff though. And I do sniff. Watching football shouldn't be this boring or unrewarding, even if the ultimate reward is the Premiership again.
Otherwise it was tricky to tell the games apart. Obviously the latter fixture resulted in a surplus of two goals and two extra points, but otherwise it was remarkably similar to the first. A lot of huff and puff, but little in the way of tactics or direction or football to admire. The Cardiff game did, I have to concede, feature a spell of pressure from the Irons in the second half where it almost looked like we knew what we were doing. Passes were strung together, and we seemed to be performing as a unit rather than a flat back 9 lofting it up to the too-short-to-win-headers Maynard. I feel for Maynard, poor bugger. This guy looks a handful. A bundle of energy, with a nice first touch, good control, bags of pace, and a refreshingly attacking instinct. I like him. A lot. Goals or no goals he adds a dimension to the team that we've lacked since Bellamy really. A succession of loanees up front, punctuated by the arrival of the revelatory Ba (until we dragged him down to the levels of performance expected by Avram), almost made me forget how forwards were supposed to play. Maynard has reminded me. Sadly, sparse opportunities to see West Ham on the television means that I've seen Baldock play for about 10 minutes in total. He looked sharp too. For those 10 minutes.
I'd like to comment on how Vaz Te looks up front, but he's stuck out on the wings, making a strong case for himself as someone who doesn't really play very well stuck out on the wings. I expect to see a lot of him stuck out on the wings. His enthusiasm and effort are not to be sniffed at, but, he's just not a winger to my eyes. God forbid Big Fat Sam should alter the system so that we're not reliant on wide men up front in his 4-5-1 / 4-3-3 / whatever it is formation. Yes, I know we're missing Taylor, and that Faubert isn't a long term solution on the right, but...oh, what's the point. You know Sam will stick stubbornly to the formation that only succeeds in isolating a front man who clearly loves the ball at his feet, rather than at his throat.
The Cardiff game at least had us in control, if only because Cardiff looked so wretched. We didn't look like we'd lose the game. The Palace game was just two teams bereft of ideas, or any kind of spark, doing their mediocre best not to concede. It was a hateful 90 minutes. Plenty of effort, and certainly not worth booing, not that I'd ever boo, seeing as I'd look silly doing it from the sofa, but it was still a game lacking in any entertainment value whatsoever. Rob Green emerged dignity intact with his usual couple of valuable saves.
Cardiff looked like a team still playing extra time in a Carling Cup Final. We should have been three goals to the good before people had even settled into their seats. Some defensive cock-ups on the home teams behalf forced their goalkeeper into action as Maynard carried on his 'he looks lively' streak. Nolan, back in the team after his....ummm...welcome(?) suspension was completely anonymous until he scored a peach of a goal. I guess that, right there, is his value in the team. Our other midfielders aren't netting, and he does. What do I know. Whatever my merits in being able to accurately discern what is taking place on a football pitch, Nolan did eventually become more of a factor in the game. Encouraged to push forward from what started out as a deep central midfield position, he did start to influence our attacking play, and filled the gaping void between everyone else and Maynard.
McCartney deserved his right footed goal after a lung-busting, never-say-die, bundling run down the left flank. There was no denying we deserved to be two goals up, if only because we'd fluffed earlier opportunities. That said, it didn't smack of a two - nil performance. The back four looked solid, and Faye is the perfect foil to Tomkins. Tomkins is now a classy centre half, and no denying it. Faye is a no-nonsense, get the job done, none shall pass, centre half. I wish we'd had him from the moment the club decided to whisk James Collins off from under the nose of Gianfranco. Noble put in another everywhere all at once performance, but like the game itself, it was all effort and little reward. Vaz Te looked marginally more effective on the wing...and then the other wing. It was bitty and patchy and fragmented stuff though, like my rambling writing. Doing a lot of stuff, but a lot of stuff rather ineffectually.
I shouldn't sniff at 4 points over two games, especially when an away fixture at Cardiff looks tricky on paper. I will sniff though. And I do sniff. Watching football shouldn't be this boring or unrewarding, even if the ultimate reward is the Premiership again.
Saturday, February 4, 2012
Clatter and Blue: The David Forde Story
A win over Millwall invariably encourages hyperbole to come out of hibernation, and grant over excited compliments to a game. There was little in the way of good football in today's victory, but what the game lacked in technique, it did make up for in effort and industry, and no small lack of passion from Faubert and Noble at the very least.
Things started flatly with the usual Fat Sam team sheet of unadventurousnessosity. Then the game kicked off, and we barely saw the ball. Kevin Nolan barely saw the ball either when, in the 8th minute, he decided a two footed challenge was necessary to break up a non-threatening piece of Millwall play. Luckily, it was a challenge timed so badly, and so pedestrian in it's execution that no legs were broken. However, the intent was there for all to see, and I for one wasn't yelling at the referee to don his spectacles. I felt Nolan should go, and Nolan did go, meaning we'd have to see out 82 minutes of the game with 10 men. Great start. Nolan drifting even further down in my estimation.
Unsurprisingly, there then followed a passage of play, which felt like hours, where we were clearly rattled by the decreasing number of our players. The referee chimed in with some needless whistle blowing, and rendered about 20-25 minutes of the first half almost unbearable to watch. Slowly though, things were happening in Mark Noble's little Stegosaurus brain. Taking a good look around, he'd decided he'd had enough of our headless chicken approach, and proceded to take the game by the scruff of the neck. Faubert took notice, and clearly didn't want to be outdone. The two of them pretty much negated the Millwall man advantage, and pretty much negated the need of our other midfielders. Blood and thunder was all very good, and Noble and Faubert were certainly making us look threatening from time to time, but I still didn't feel there was a goal in us, but shortly before half time, there was a goal. A rather nicely taken goal too, from a man without a goal in 9 games. A looping, lofty, wafty ball with no pace on it was despatched goalwards from Carlton with a decent amount of power, and we were ahead, and looking comfortable for it.
If McCartney and O'Brien had looked a little vulnerable at times in the first half, Millwall had done little to push that issue. We were ahead by virtue of effort, and Millwall being worse than us. The second half got underway with little sign that we were a man down, and just as I was about to start thinking the introduction of Taylor for the scrappy and ineffectual Collison was going to propel us towards a second goal, the game entered a phase of unadulterated rubbish.
A bitty, disjointed handful of minutes slogged their way by, and then the previously blunt looking Millwall were level. We'd looked wobbly and were duly punished by a well taken goal from Trotter (no relation) in the 66th minute. Then, when I sensed a collapse might be on the cards, Noble and Faubert remembered that they had been largely running the game and stepped things up, and just 3 minutes later the Irons were celebrating a goal, while Millwall, and David Forde in particular, were wondering where the whistle had gone to. Faubert aided by a spoonful of momentum, a sprinkle of cynicism and a large dose of myopic refereeing, clattered into the Millwall keeper Forde, after a surging run forward. Forde remained on the floor as the ball pinballed it's way back to Winston Reid. I didn't have any particular optimism that a defender, a good distance out of the box, was going to profit from Faubert's clumsy removal of the keeper. Reid clearly had other ideas, and calmly, and sweetly, stuck the ball in the back of the net.
Unsurprisingly Millwall slumped like a team who'd have some of their stuffing removed. We looked in control, occasionally threatened a 3rd, and afforded ourselves the luxury of removing Faubert for O'Neill, continuing his comeback from the Reo Coker inflicted injury that had threatened O'Neill's career. Good football was still largely lacking, but a spirit endured in our play. True to form, we then endeavoured to make the last 5 minutes of play, and the added 5 minutes, a reasonably awkward period.
Far from pretty, aided in no small part by Millwall being rubbish, and a very lucky break in Faubert not being punished for a cynical body check, there was at least encouragement from a never say die charge lead by the impressive looking Noble and Faubert. When needed, the defence stood up, and Cole chimed in with a much needed goal. We had a short glimpse of newly signed Vaz Te, and his hair. Green was quick off his line to snuff out a Millwall chance, and as usual, I couldn't help thinking he was the player we most needed to hang on to after our relegation. Nolan's suspension could be a blessing. We certainly looked better without him and down to 10 men, than we have done with him on the scant occasions I've managed to see us play this season.
A welcome win after the dispiriting 5-1 drubbing by Ipswich. There was character on show, but in truth it was another display that lived up to the Fat Sam (mostly apocryphal) myth of clumping it around and not conceding while showing little tactical acumen...but then again, what do I know? We're still top, we won, and we did Millwall. That's gotta be a collection of good things right?
Things started flatly with the usual Fat Sam team sheet of unadventurousnessosity. Then the game kicked off, and we barely saw the ball. Kevin Nolan barely saw the ball either when, in the 8th minute, he decided a two footed challenge was necessary to break up a non-threatening piece of Millwall play. Luckily, it was a challenge timed so badly, and so pedestrian in it's execution that no legs were broken. However, the intent was there for all to see, and I for one wasn't yelling at the referee to don his spectacles. I felt Nolan should go, and Nolan did go, meaning we'd have to see out 82 minutes of the game with 10 men. Great start. Nolan drifting even further down in my estimation.
Unsurprisingly, there then followed a passage of play, which felt like hours, where we were clearly rattled by the decreasing number of our players. The referee chimed in with some needless whistle blowing, and rendered about 20-25 minutes of the first half almost unbearable to watch. Slowly though, things were happening in Mark Noble's little Stegosaurus brain. Taking a good look around, he'd decided he'd had enough of our headless chicken approach, and proceded to take the game by the scruff of the neck. Faubert took notice, and clearly didn't want to be outdone. The two of them pretty much negated the Millwall man advantage, and pretty much negated the need of our other midfielders. Blood and thunder was all very good, and Noble and Faubert were certainly making us look threatening from time to time, but I still didn't feel there was a goal in us, but shortly before half time, there was a goal. A rather nicely taken goal too, from a man without a goal in 9 games. A looping, lofty, wafty ball with no pace on it was despatched goalwards from Carlton with a decent amount of power, and we were ahead, and looking comfortable for it.
If McCartney and O'Brien had looked a little vulnerable at times in the first half, Millwall had done little to push that issue. We were ahead by virtue of effort, and Millwall being worse than us. The second half got underway with little sign that we were a man down, and just as I was about to start thinking the introduction of Taylor for the scrappy and ineffectual Collison was going to propel us towards a second goal, the game entered a phase of unadulterated rubbish.
A bitty, disjointed handful of minutes slogged their way by, and then the previously blunt looking Millwall were level. We'd looked wobbly and were duly punished by a well taken goal from Trotter (no relation) in the 66th minute. Then, when I sensed a collapse might be on the cards, Noble and Faubert remembered that they had been largely running the game and stepped things up, and just 3 minutes later the Irons were celebrating a goal, while Millwall, and David Forde in particular, were wondering where the whistle had gone to. Faubert aided by a spoonful of momentum, a sprinkle of cynicism and a large dose of myopic refereeing, clattered into the Millwall keeper Forde, after a surging run forward. Forde remained on the floor as the ball pinballed it's way back to Winston Reid. I didn't have any particular optimism that a defender, a good distance out of the box, was going to profit from Faubert's clumsy removal of the keeper. Reid clearly had other ideas, and calmly, and sweetly, stuck the ball in the back of the net.
Unsurprisingly Millwall slumped like a team who'd have some of their stuffing removed. We looked in control, occasionally threatened a 3rd, and afforded ourselves the luxury of removing Faubert for O'Neill, continuing his comeback from the Reo Coker inflicted injury that had threatened O'Neill's career. Good football was still largely lacking, but a spirit endured in our play. True to form, we then endeavoured to make the last 5 minutes of play, and the added 5 minutes, a reasonably awkward period.
Far from pretty, aided in no small part by Millwall being rubbish, and a very lucky break in Faubert not being punished for a cynical body check, there was at least encouragement from a never say die charge lead by the impressive looking Noble and Faubert. When needed, the defence stood up, and Cole chimed in with a much needed goal. We had a short glimpse of newly signed Vaz Te, and his hair. Green was quick off his line to snuff out a Millwall chance, and as usual, I couldn't help thinking he was the player we most needed to hang on to after our relegation. Nolan's suspension could be a blessing. We certainly looked better without him and down to 10 men, than we have done with him on the scant occasions I've managed to see us play this season.
A welcome win after the dispiriting 5-1 drubbing by Ipswich. There was character on show, but in truth it was another display that lived up to the Fat Sam (mostly apocryphal) myth of clumping it around and not conceding while showing little tactical acumen...but then again, what do I know? We're still top, we won, and we did Millwall. That's gotta be a collection of good things right?
Monday, December 26, 2011
Boxing Day Leftovers - Birmingham v West Ham
Just past the 3 minute mark Carlton Cole capitalised on the uncertainty of a new centre back pairing for Birmingham, and swept the ball across the keeper and into the corner of the net. I celebrated with one of my most muted 'West Ham have scored' moments ever. I was glad and all, and happy for Carlton to score not just a conventional, but also an attractive looking goal.
Why the apathy then?
This is probably the least I've been able to see the Hammers (mid 80s TV blackout aside) since I was at college and as a student household we couldn't scrape together enough money for Sky Sports. Not to mention that back in the early 90s, Sky Sports wasn't the all consuming monster it is now, and we were hardly showered with a choice of games to watch. Anyway, I've digressed. Why the apathy? Simply that this West Ham side looks alien to me. I've watched us, for a whole 90 minutes, on just 4 occasions this season. There's nothing particularly familiar about them to me, and the same can be said for the way we play now. It just all looks a bit wrong, and unfamiliar. That the goal came from a ball launched forward by Green, a flick on, and then via Cole's foot could be used as ammunition against Big Sam's perceived predilection for route 1 football. Having seen us a scant number of times, I couldn't comment, and the game against Derby showed that we do have more in our tactics locker.
The only thing that looked familiar, beyond the faces from seasons past, was Danny Potts who looks very much like his dad. Not that we offered anything down the left hand side, and on the occasion that we did, neither the attacking Faubert or the referee spotted the glaring handball that took Julien's header off-target. Faubert was himself busy down the right flank, at least for the opening 30 odd minutes.To say we controlled or owned the opening 2/3 of the game would be rather generous, as Birmingham didn't really offer anything in opposition. Then, only as West Ham can, we handed the initiative over to the home side by virtue of a wearying number of balls lofted forward from the back. That they very rarely found a claret and blue shirt, head, foot or even arse meant that Birmingham suddenly found themselves with a lot of possession. Chris Hughton bellowed from the sidelines ably, and Birmingham turned that possession into attacking threats. Having said that, Green was only seriously tested from a free kick, that he pushed relatively comfortably around the post.
Had we had more brains, we wouldn't have handed the initiative back. But clearly no-one thought to step forward from the bench to say "hold on to the ruddy ball" or "keep it on the floor". Perhaps Big Sam had no inclination to encourage us to keep it on the floor, I just know that the last 15 minutes of the first half had my eyes rolling like I was enduring an epileptic fit. It was poor, and the aimless lumps up field should have been snuffed out from the sidelines via some instructions.
Diop, Tomkins, Faubert and Cole stood out in the opening 45, perhaps purely because the rest of the action was so rooted in mediocrity.
The 2nd half got underway with no clear indication that Sam had addressed any of the problems that had emerged over the duration of the 1st. Birmingham looked the more threatening, and their pressure was only momentarily punctuated as Piquionne attempted to latch onto another booming punt up the park from Green. A good tackle, or Piquionne's standard leaden footed running meant that attack came to nothing, and shortly afterwards the frighteningly unthreatening Piquionne was removed as Sam decided to shore up the midfield with Lansbury. By this time Birmingham had introduced Zigic, who so haunted us last season. It was Lansbury's introduction that was most potent as he produced a rasping shot around the 65 minute mark that Myhill failed to hold on to. Faubert could have followed up, if not for the fact that he was offside, and looking in completely the wrong direction, contemplating his dinner perhaps.
Other entertainment was provided by the comically rotund Beausejour skinning the desperately slow O'Brien down the right hand side. If one moment illustrated how much we need a right back who isn't O'Brien, then that was it.
Another penalty shout was overlooked as another Birmingham hand connected with the ball inside the box, but again the long balls rained forward and Birmingham continued to be the most likely to score, and most likely to score via the busy Chris Burke. Moments after the introduction of Carew as the game entered the last 20 minutes, a goal mouth fiasco had Tomkins slicing the ball into the stratosphere, over a scrambling Green's head, and heading back towards the net. Zigic obligingly handled it. The telling Birmingham pressure, combined with our inability to do anything remotely creative or productive inevitably lead to an equaliser on 80 minutes, with a Murphy header from a corner. Who'd have thought that the 'hit it aimless and long, while wasting time whenever possible' tactics would bite us on the arse?
Sam decided we might need a 2nd goal after the equaliser, which was a shame as many would have no doubt felt a 2nd would have been handy at any point in the preceding 80 minutes. Lightning quick, he introduced Sears for Faubert, and then juggled the midfield around to make it look like he'd been paying attention to the game. To add insult to injury, Big Sam's obsession with time wasting ensured that 5 extra minutes were tagged on to ensure Birmingham had a chance to grab all 3 points.
Had I not sat and watched this dispiriting, lacklustre, rudderless performance, I'd no doubt be arguing that a point away, where Birmingham have been so strong, would be a good result. Sadly only our increasingly lethargic and clueless performance made Birmingham look good. A dull game, devoid of any real excitement, and with only Birmingham providing moments of creativity. It ended 1-1 and I couldn't help thinking a snooze would have benefitted me more.
Why the apathy then?
This is probably the least I've been able to see the Hammers (mid 80s TV blackout aside) since I was at college and as a student household we couldn't scrape together enough money for Sky Sports. Not to mention that back in the early 90s, Sky Sports wasn't the all consuming monster it is now, and we were hardly showered with a choice of games to watch. Anyway, I've digressed. Why the apathy? Simply that this West Ham side looks alien to me. I've watched us, for a whole 90 minutes, on just 4 occasions this season. There's nothing particularly familiar about them to me, and the same can be said for the way we play now. It just all looks a bit wrong, and unfamiliar. That the goal came from a ball launched forward by Green, a flick on, and then via Cole's foot could be used as ammunition against Big Sam's perceived predilection for route 1 football. Having seen us a scant number of times, I couldn't comment, and the game against Derby showed that we do have more in our tactics locker.
The only thing that looked familiar, beyond the faces from seasons past, was Danny Potts who looks very much like his dad. Not that we offered anything down the left hand side, and on the occasion that we did, neither the attacking Faubert or the referee spotted the glaring handball that took Julien's header off-target. Faubert was himself busy down the right flank, at least for the opening 30 odd minutes.To say we controlled or owned the opening 2/3 of the game would be rather generous, as Birmingham didn't really offer anything in opposition. Then, only as West Ham can, we handed the initiative over to the home side by virtue of a wearying number of balls lofted forward from the back. That they very rarely found a claret and blue shirt, head, foot or even arse meant that Birmingham suddenly found themselves with a lot of possession. Chris Hughton bellowed from the sidelines ably, and Birmingham turned that possession into attacking threats. Having said that, Green was only seriously tested from a free kick, that he pushed relatively comfortably around the post.
Had we had more brains, we wouldn't have handed the initiative back. But clearly no-one thought to step forward from the bench to say "hold on to the ruddy ball" or "keep it on the floor". Perhaps Big Sam had no inclination to encourage us to keep it on the floor, I just know that the last 15 minutes of the first half had my eyes rolling like I was enduring an epileptic fit. It was poor, and the aimless lumps up field should have been snuffed out from the sidelines via some instructions.
Diop, Tomkins, Faubert and Cole stood out in the opening 45, perhaps purely because the rest of the action was so rooted in mediocrity.
The 2nd half got underway with no clear indication that Sam had addressed any of the problems that had emerged over the duration of the 1st. Birmingham looked the more threatening, and their pressure was only momentarily punctuated as Piquionne attempted to latch onto another booming punt up the park from Green. A good tackle, or Piquionne's standard leaden footed running meant that attack came to nothing, and shortly afterwards the frighteningly unthreatening Piquionne was removed as Sam decided to shore up the midfield with Lansbury. By this time Birmingham had introduced Zigic, who so haunted us last season. It was Lansbury's introduction that was most potent as he produced a rasping shot around the 65 minute mark that Myhill failed to hold on to. Faubert could have followed up, if not for the fact that he was offside, and looking in completely the wrong direction, contemplating his dinner perhaps.
Other entertainment was provided by the comically rotund Beausejour skinning the desperately slow O'Brien down the right hand side. If one moment illustrated how much we need a right back who isn't O'Brien, then that was it.
Another penalty shout was overlooked as another Birmingham hand connected with the ball inside the box, but again the long balls rained forward and Birmingham continued to be the most likely to score, and most likely to score via the busy Chris Burke. Moments after the introduction of Carew as the game entered the last 20 minutes, a goal mouth fiasco had Tomkins slicing the ball into the stratosphere, over a scrambling Green's head, and heading back towards the net. Zigic obligingly handled it. The telling Birmingham pressure, combined with our inability to do anything remotely creative or productive inevitably lead to an equaliser on 80 minutes, with a Murphy header from a corner. Who'd have thought that the 'hit it aimless and long, while wasting time whenever possible' tactics would bite us on the arse?
Sam decided we might need a 2nd goal after the equaliser, which was a shame as many would have no doubt felt a 2nd would have been handy at any point in the preceding 80 minutes. Lightning quick, he introduced Sears for Faubert, and then juggled the midfield around to make it look like he'd been paying attention to the game. To add insult to injury, Big Sam's obsession with time wasting ensured that 5 extra minutes were tagged on to ensure Birmingham had a chance to grab all 3 points.
Had I not sat and watched this dispiriting, lacklustre, rudderless performance, I'd no doubt be arguing that a point away, where Birmingham have been so strong, would be a good result. Sadly only our increasingly lethargic and clueless performance made Birmingham look good. A dull game, devoid of any real excitement, and with only Birmingham providing moments of creativity. It ended 1-1 and I couldn't help thinking a snooze would have benefitted me more.
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Football is Dead: Long Live Football! Brighton Away.
The Brighton game was not one for the football purist. Hell, it wasn't even one for somebody who'll watch any football, just for the sake of watching football. The Hammer's performance has been labelled 'battling' by those most desperate to attach some kind of positivity to a display that was in large portions dire, apart from in the moments when it dipped to execrable.
Am I glad we got the 3 points? Hell yes, of course I am. Am I happy to watch that kind of game in the pursuit of a return to the Premiership? Ummm, not sure. Suggesting that we 'battled' for those 3 points infers that Brighton threw everything at us, wave after wave of attacking, and that only our brave boys throwing their lives on the line in treacherous conditions preserved our goal lead. Brighton didn't throw everything at us. They threw very little at us, and when they did attack we were lucky on both occasions for sharp reactions from Almunia. Aside from those moments, our defence coped comfortably enough with Brighton's occasional forays into our area.
Presumably the 'battling' tag also echoed the weather in which the game was played. Some rain. I don't recall precipitation instantly precluding a game from being entertaining, or even just plain competent. When Brighton did come forward it was mostly by way of one of a myriad of misplaced passes from a spluttering, labouring midfield. I don't recall seeing so many passes going astray, and so little possession from a line-up that packed out the midfield with 5 very able players. Yes, we're missing players, but that is still a team that 'should' shine in the Championship. Last night I'm not even sure someone flicked the 'on switch' let alone allowing us to shine. We looked barely able to produce the basics with any level of competency, and not at any point did we display any class or style.
Nolan took his goal well, and while what originally looked like a piledriver actually ended up being a firmly hit shot that Harper misjudged, it still ended up looking like it belonged to a different game, a better game, a game in which we weren't totally without a plan. There's winning 'ugly' and then there's 'contriving to win despite yourselves'. Make no mistake, last night WAS ugly although devoid of the long ball mentality that we've shown earlier in this campaign. We kept the ball on the floor. It didn't actually make any difference, as the result tended to be the same as an aimless punt up field, with the ball ending up at the feet of an opposition player.
Whether by accident, or design while we wait for Matty Taylor to be fit again, we played without any width whatsoever. Frustrating, bearing in mind it was a 5 man midfield. What we got instead was congestion, and endless attempts to thread the ball through the middle to an out of sorts looking Carew. Eventually we stopped bothering to thread the ball anywhere, and shrunk deeper and deeper back into our own half, only alleviated when Sears showed some desire to get forward when introduced later in the second half.
Highlights? Diop looked solid and broke up an awful lot of play before succumbing to a dead leg. Reid and McCartney did a lot of important work at the back. Noble put himself about, to little reward it has to be said, but soldiered on after discovering a new angle at which to display his thumb. Ouch. Almunia was largely untroubled, but stayed alert to produce two able, and important saves. Sears showed enthusiasm and much needed pace, and of course Nolan provided the goal in the 18th minute. Other than that, it was a painful 90 minutes of football to endure. Yes it resulted in 3 points, but such a lack of visible composure and competency is worrying, given that this team is bursting with talent and has a manager who at the very least gets his teams well drilled in doing the basics well.
We looked no better than the last time I saw us play for a full 90 minutes. I was expecting gritty, but not scrappy. I wanted 3 points, but not really like that. We offered nothing. Not a thing. Following the goal, which came after some decent signs that we might overwhelm Brighton with our attacking intent, we never looked like threatening them again. I'll take the clean sheet. I'll take the away win, but I reserve the right to moan about a performance that was largely shambolic and without any semblance of tactics, simply because it doesn't bode well for the future. I have a nasty worry that we'll forget how to play attractive stuff, or even just okay stuff.
Am I glad we got the 3 points? Hell yes, of course I am. Am I happy to watch that kind of game in the pursuit of a return to the Premiership? Ummm, not sure. Suggesting that we 'battled' for those 3 points infers that Brighton threw everything at us, wave after wave of attacking, and that only our brave boys throwing their lives on the line in treacherous conditions preserved our goal lead. Brighton didn't throw everything at us. They threw very little at us, and when they did attack we were lucky on both occasions for sharp reactions from Almunia. Aside from those moments, our defence coped comfortably enough with Brighton's occasional forays into our area.
Presumably the 'battling' tag also echoed the weather in which the game was played. Some rain. I don't recall precipitation instantly precluding a game from being entertaining, or even just plain competent. When Brighton did come forward it was mostly by way of one of a myriad of misplaced passes from a spluttering, labouring midfield. I don't recall seeing so many passes going astray, and so little possession from a line-up that packed out the midfield with 5 very able players. Yes, we're missing players, but that is still a team that 'should' shine in the Championship. Last night I'm not even sure someone flicked the 'on switch' let alone allowing us to shine. We looked barely able to produce the basics with any level of competency, and not at any point did we display any class or style.
Nolan took his goal well, and while what originally looked like a piledriver actually ended up being a firmly hit shot that Harper misjudged, it still ended up looking like it belonged to a different game, a better game, a game in which we weren't totally without a plan. There's winning 'ugly' and then there's 'contriving to win despite yourselves'. Make no mistake, last night WAS ugly although devoid of the long ball mentality that we've shown earlier in this campaign. We kept the ball on the floor. It didn't actually make any difference, as the result tended to be the same as an aimless punt up field, with the ball ending up at the feet of an opposition player.
Whether by accident, or design while we wait for Matty Taylor to be fit again, we played without any width whatsoever. Frustrating, bearing in mind it was a 5 man midfield. What we got instead was congestion, and endless attempts to thread the ball through the middle to an out of sorts looking Carew. Eventually we stopped bothering to thread the ball anywhere, and shrunk deeper and deeper back into our own half, only alleviated when Sears showed some desire to get forward when introduced later in the second half.
Highlights? Diop looked solid and broke up an awful lot of play before succumbing to a dead leg. Reid and McCartney did a lot of important work at the back. Noble put himself about, to little reward it has to be said, but soldiered on after discovering a new angle at which to display his thumb. Ouch. Almunia was largely untroubled, but stayed alert to produce two able, and important saves. Sears showed enthusiasm and much needed pace, and of course Nolan provided the goal in the 18th minute. Other than that, it was a painful 90 minutes of football to endure. Yes it resulted in 3 points, but such a lack of visible composure and competency is worrying, given that this team is bursting with talent and has a manager who at the very least gets his teams well drilled in doing the basics well.
We looked no better than the last time I saw us play for a full 90 minutes. I was expecting gritty, but not scrappy. I wanted 3 points, but not really like that. We offered nothing. Not a thing. Following the goal, which came after some decent signs that we might overwhelm Brighton with our attacking intent, we never looked like threatening them again. I'll take the clean sheet. I'll take the away win, but I reserve the right to moan about a performance that was largely shambolic and without any semblance of tactics, simply because it doesn't bode well for the future. I have a nasty worry that we'll forget how to play attractive stuff, or even just okay stuff.
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Disappointed, For Sure. Score Draw.
The sole commentator on my Fox Soccer Plus presentation of the West Ham / Leeds game couldn't stop remarking on what an exciting game it was. Not terribly sure I concur with that. I thought it was a pretty poor spectacle. Scrappy, bitty, uneven, stop and go, and save for 10 minutes at the start and a 5 to 10 minute period after Carew's introduction, we were barely in the game, and certainly never looked like deserving all 3 points. All things considered, I'm very grateful we escaped with 1 point. The lively Gradel could have converted that penalty, and while we could have been awarded two ourselves, we produced so little attacking threat that 3 points would have been embarrassing.
The game wasn't entirely devoid of positive things. Despite the attempts of the press to suggest Parker isn't happy, he looked every bit as committed a player as the one who has sweated blood for us in every season he's belonged to the club. Credit to Leeds though, and their non-stop pressing, that our midfield as a whole never really got going, finding time and space to be a rare commodity.
Cole looked more 'up for it' than he has for a while, and got into better positions than we've seen of late. Carew came on though to show that his control, touch and hold up play is in a different league to Coles, and when match fit, I find it very hard to believe that Carlton will command a starting berth if we persist with Sam's 4-5-1, masquerading as a 4-3-3. Carew looked pleasingly lively, and will be a handful for opposition defences.
Perhaps the most pleasing aspect of the largely turgid performance was how threatening we look from the dead ball. We've already seen how dangerous Taylor is from free kicks, but today and for the first time in what feels like a decade, we looked like we could score from every corner. Tomkins seemed to be in the thick of it from every corner, and had a basketful of efforts on target.
Cons? Well, for 35 minutes of the first half we looked like we had no answer to Leeds' frantic closing down, and their rather direct brand of football. While it rarely produced a shot on goal, it was worrying that we weren't able to adapt or change systems to nullify their threat. The same went for the second half until we had a brief period of possession and energy around the 70 minute mark, with Faubert's dangerous low ball prompting the error that put us rather generously back in front. Nolan drifted in and out the game, and for large periods I wasn't even aware he was playing. Cole looked increasingly isolated as the game wore on too. I fear for Ilunga's place, as there's only so many times your left back can loft the ball aimlessly up the park, only to see it come straight back. His distribution was frustratingly 1 dimensional and I hope that McCartney can a) get fit soon, and then more importantly b) rediscover his form from a good few seasons back.
The equaliser had an inevitability about it, and Leeds deserved it over the course of those 95 minutes. Yes, we had those penalty shouts, but with a hand on the heart we just weren't at the races today and should feel lucky we escaped with a draw. There were some good, or perhaps 'gritty' performers on the park for us today, but overall the performance was flat, and unable to contend, in either half, with the way Leeds set themselves up. Too often we were harrassed and hurried into losing the ball, and never really found a solution. So, disappointed in the performance, but relieved at the draw.
The game wasn't entirely devoid of positive things. Despite the attempts of the press to suggest Parker isn't happy, he looked every bit as committed a player as the one who has sweated blood for us in every season he's belonged to the club. Credit to Leeds though, and their non-stop pressing, that our midfield as a whole never really got going, finding time and space to be a rare commodity.
Cole looked more 'up for it' than he has for a while, and got into better positions than we've seen of late. Carew came on though to show that his control, touch and hold up play is in a different league to Coles, and when match fit, I find it very hard to believe that Carlton will command a starting berth if we persist with Sam's 4-5-1, masquerading as a 4-3-3. Carew looked pleasingly lively, and will be a handful for opposition defences.
Perhaps the most pleasing aspect of the largely turgid performance was how threatening we look from the dead ball. We've already seen how dangerous Taylor is from free kicks, but today and for the first time in what feels like a decade, we looked like we could score from every corner. Tomkins seemed to be in the thick of it from every corner, and had a basketful of efforts on target.
Cons? Well, for 35 minutes of the first half we looked like we had no answer to Leeds' frantic closing down, and their rather direct brand of football. While it rarely produced a shot on goal, it was worrying that we weren't able to adapt or change systems to nullify their threat. The same went for the second half until we had a brief period of possession and energy around the 70 minute mark, with Faubert's dangerous low ball prompting the error that put us rather generously back in front. Nolan drifted in and out the game, and for large periods I wasn't even aware he was playing. Cole looked increasingly isolated as the game wore on too. I fear for Ilunga's place, as there's only so many times your left back can loft the ball aimlessly up the park, only to see it come straight back. His distribution was frustratingly 1 dimensional and I hope that McCartney can a) get fit soon, and then more importantly b) rediscover his form from a good few seasons back.
The equaliser had an inevitability about it, and Leeds deserved it over the course of those 95 minutes. Yes, we had those penalty shouts, but with a hand on the heart we just weren't at the races today and should feel lucky we escaped with a draw. There were some good, or perhaps 'gritty' performers on the park for us today, but overall the performance was flat, and unable to contend, in either half, with the way Leeds set themselves up. Too often we were harrassed and hurried into losing the ball, and never really found a solution. So, disappointed in the performance, but relieved at the draw.
Monday, August 15, 2011
Stoke. Shag, Marry, Smother with a Pillow?
Sometimes, I'm a little concerned that my absolute loathing of Stoke is founded on a cliche based on a cliche with a little FA Cup Quarter Final exit resentment mixed in. I watched them play Chelsea, on the opening weekend, and can confirm that no, my absolute loathing of Stoke is fully justified.
Some part of the Stoke story should appeal to me. Once great club, back in the top flight after decades away. Mixing it with the big boys but on a budget. Triumph of grit and determination over style. Those things should appeal to the underdog lover in me. But, then I go and spoil it all by doing something stupid like watching them...again.
'Anti-football' is now an oft used phrase, applied pretty much exclusively to Stoke, unless you're Arsene Wenger and then it's deployed in scatter gun fashion. Andre Villas-Boas wasn't slow in coming forward with his view of the Stoke tactics after his first chance to see them in action. I say 'tactics' but I'm not sure it really deserves to be plural. It could all be summed up in 'don't concede and we'll get a set-piece sooner or later. When we do, hurl the ball into the box, elbow anyone who gets near it, and if the keeper catches it, kick him into the back of the net'. Obviously that's the 'Pulis way' broken down into it's most basic form, but there's very little dressing and garnish to be applied to that tactic.
There were exceedingly brief passages of play where Stoke moved the ball around with a pleasing fluidity. They were overly reliant on Etherington to take it down the wing and get a cross in, and the same with Pennant, except, anyone with any sense knows that's asking a lot of Pennant. When Etherington withdrew with an injury, any hopes for anything remotely resembling football vanished. It had been pretty scarce beforehand, but then, almost inconceivably, Stoke became even more unpleasant to watch.
Left with no outlet on the wing, other than the ponderous Pennant on the right, Stoke continued to try and muscle the ball through the middle. Remember 'Bedknobs and Broomsticks'? The football game? That. That's Stoke that is. Except, they mixed up forcing the ball down the middle with a succession of long aimless punts up field, whether in possession of defending. The only time any creativity was on display was when they were showcasing their new levels of thuggery in the box at corners, throw-ins and free kicks. I wouldn't bat an eyelid at ear biting or eye gouging as a prelude to a Rory Delap throw arriving in a crammed penalty area. Pushing, shoving and pulling is hardly an alien concept in the modern game where set-pieces are concerned, but Stoke do need credit for taking it to new more tiresome heights.
They offer nothing beyond physicality. Not one thing. It's a survival instinct for sure, and one that has seen them safely mid table for 4 seasons now, but you'd kind of like a club to evolve wouldn't you? I can't imagine being a supporter, watching that week in and week out, which is a strange statement considering Stoke play Premiership football while West Ham sit a division down. Chances are we'll be playing a less expansive, attractive brand of football in a bid to guarantee clean sheets and a return to the top flight, but the day it becomes a physical, muscular, war of attrition is the day I stop watching. It's not cricket. It's not football either.
Some part of the Stoke story should appeal to me. Once great club, back in the top flight after decades away. Mixing it with the big boys but on a budget. Triumph of grit and determination over style. Those things should appeal to the underdog lover in me. But, then I go and spoil it all by doing something stupid like watching them...again.
'Anti-football' is now an oft used phrase, applied pretty much exclusively to Stoke, unless you're Arsene Wenger and then it's deployed in scatter gun fashion. Andre Villas-Boas wasn't slow in coming forward with his view of the Stoke tactics after his first chance to see them in action. I say 'tactics' but I'm not sure it really deserves to be plural. It could all be summed up in 'don't concede and we'll get a set-piece sooner or later. When we do, hurl the ball into the box, elbow anyone who gets near it, and if the keeper catches it, kick him into the back of the net'. Obviously that's the 'Pulis way' broken down into it's most basic form, but there's very little dressing and garnish to be applied to that tactic.
There were exceedingly brief passages of play where Stoke moved the ball around with a pleasing fluidity. They were overly reliant on Etherington to take it down the wing and get a cross in, and the same with Pennant, except, anyone with any sense knows that's asking a lot of Pennant. When Etherington withdrew with an injury, any hopes for anything remotely resembling football vanished. It had been pretty scarce beforehand, but then, almost inconceivably, Stoke became even more unpleasant to watch.
Left with no outlet on the wing, other than the ponderous Pennant on the right, Stoke continued to try and muscle the ball through the middle. Remember 'Bedknobs and Broomsticks'? The football game? That. That's Stoke that is. Except, they mixed up forcing the ball down the middle with a succession of long aimless punts up field, whether in possession of defending. The only time any creativity was on display was when they were showcasing their new levels of thuggery in the box at corners, throw-ins and free kicks. I wouldn't bat an eyelid at ear biting or eye gouging as a prelude to a Rory Delap throw arriving in a crammed penalty area. Pushing, shoving and pulling is hardly an alien concept in the modern game where set-pieces are concerned, but Stoke do need credit for taking it to new more tiresome heights.
They offer nothing beyond physicality. Not one thing. It's a survival instinct for sure, and one that has seen them safely mid table for 4 seasons now, but you'd kind of like a club to evolve wouldn't you? I can't imagine being a supporter, watching that week in and week out, which is a strange statement considering Stoke play Premiership football while West Ham sit a division down. Chances are we'll be playing a less expansive, attractive brand of football in a bid to guarantee clean sheets and a return to the top flight, but the day it becomes a physical, muscular, war of attrition is the day I stop watching. It's not cricket. It's not football either.
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