Our pre-match
organization is as shambolic as West Ham’s defence. After telling our butlers
our whereabouts, Fraser and myself proceed from Hammersmith tube down Fulham
Palace Road at different times, Matt and Lisa wait in the Delicious café having
come via Fulham Road and when we do finally rendezvous no-one has researched a
pub. So it’s a rather good pre-match Americano (what no Nescafe?) instead.
We get to see the
famous Michael Jackson statue at the corner of the Hammersmith End, which looks
like the work of a not-very-talented FdA art student. Jackson went to all of
one game and that was probably in an oxygen tent.
It’s weird watching
the game from below pitch level at the front of the Fulham End, though £20 is a
very reasonable price. It’s a frantic blur of lost possession and challenges
with neither side stringing more than a few passes together. We get a good view
of Schwarzer hollering at his defence and Hangerland mopping up everything
against the unimposing Chamakh. Dimitar Berbatov is the one player with time
and class and is brilliant all evening.
Fulham take the
lead at the other end after ten minutes, Berbatov heading home a free kick with
three Fulham players offside when the ball is kicked. It might have been
offside, but Jaaskelainen doesn’t react either as a fairly tame header eludes
him at his near post.
Our best chance is
when Diame makes a burst down the left and crosses for Nolan to head wide when
he should have been on target. But nought shots on target in the first half says
it all. Joe Cole is hustled out of the game and Jarvis rarely gets a cross in.
WANNA BE STARTIN' SOMETHING
West Ham start
much better in the second half with Diame looking determined. Three minutes
into the half Noble’s free kick finds clucking Kevin Nolan, who loses Berbatov
and fires across Schwarzer into the net, his first goal since November.
We then commit the
basic error of conceding a goal a minute later. An attack breaks down, Duff
gets down the left and Demel fails to stop him crossing. Astonishingly
Rodallega manages to beat Tomkins, Reid, O’Brien and Jussi to head home. He
wants it more and it’s a rubbish goal to concede.
Hammers try to
come back, with Schwarzer firing across goal and the ball trickling wide of the
post. Carlton Cole and Andy Carroll (minus pony tail and now with a dodgy bob)
come on as subs. Carroll gets a good left shot in with his first touch and
produces a safe and also fires over a few minutes later.
Sub Matt Taylor
moves to left back and crosses low when we have a giant forward line and then
gets caught out as Fulham go close on the break. Tomkins has a nightmare and
his confidence appears shot. We’re missing James Collins more than anyone.
“Typical Allardyce
team!” says the bloke behind us we fire hopeful balls at our front men. Nolan
has a huge row with Noble for kicking the ball out of play just because Dimitar
Berbatov has a slight hamstring tweak. At least Kevin appears angry.
It’s all over in added time. Jussi saves well from Rodallega, but from a tight angle Petric shoots the ball
across goal and in off the unlucky O’Brien. We get a fine view of Damien Duff
thumping has badge in front of us.
We leave the
stadium past the naff Michael Jackson statue. It’s not been a Thriller but it
has been Bad. We walk past the Thames
while resisting the temptation to jump in. Beats the River Lea I’m afraid. Best result of the day is finding the
Crabtree pub, which has rotating obscure real ales (we try Canberra and Detox),
Pacifico lager for Lisa, Aspinall’s cider for Fraser and a menu of Cornish
fish, polenta and halloumi. Just like Ken’s Cafe really. Fulham fans don’t
drink white wine, they sip lovely real ales.
“That was
relegation defending,” muses Matt over his pint of Detox. We wonder if the
Michael Jackson statue might have performed better in defence or even Billie Jean. Swansea is now yet another must-win game.
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