West Ham 1 Bolton 3
We're housesitting in the Limpley Stoke Valley so it takes some effort to arrive at Upton Park. Particularly as TfL has closed all the tubes around the Boleyn stadium. A walk down the footpath at Black Acre and then across green fields and down the canal path to Avoncliff station, a local train to Bath, then Bath to Paddington, followed by the Bakerloo and Jubilee lines and a lengthy two-mile walk down Barking Road from Canning Town. Maybe Benni McCarthy should travel by tube to improve his fitness levels?
It's another strange 4-4-2 line-up from Grant with Dyer, who's had more regenerations than the Doctor, and Gabbidon coming in after long injuries. Still, the first half is promising.
Elmander should score in the first minute but after that we play some good stuff. Barrera looks frail but lively on the wing and has three efforts at goal, while Piquionne almost makes a goal with a great bit of skill. Gabbidon does the simple things well and it's all looking OK.
The key moment comes when Cole is shoved in the back and the ref awards a penalty.
"The last time he took a penalty he injured himself," I mutter darkly.
Carlton duly strokes the ball at the keeper and our chance has gone.
There's still time for Cole to have a shot tipped away by Jaaskelainen and Dyer to run on to Parker's brilliant through ball and hit the post.
At half time we agree that's it's been much better. "When did they start doing backheels?" asks a bemused CQ.
"And more good news is the Oxford game's only £10!" says Matt.
"They'll have to pay more than that to get us to come," quips Nigel.
Only in the second half we go off the rails. We're undone by a simple goal kick. Upson is possibly fouled by nasty Kevin Davies and Mattie scores a great own goal with a classic diving header, breaking his nose in the process and then having to go off. You could say he's carrying on his World Cup form.
Sub Winston Reid has a promising run upfield and goes close with a volley from a corner, while Piquionne volleys over when maybe he should score. But Barrera disappears just like the district line.
We show a similar lack of spine to last season when Young beats Ilunga to cross and Elmander easily beats Gustave Faubert in the air to power home a header. Another player whose career we have revived. Our defence is looking as efficient as Tfl's weekend planning and our season is going down the tube.
There's hope when we gain a lucky penalty after Parker is adjudged to have been shoved and Noble dispatches it with ease.
But then comes another defensive slump, with a goal kick causing chaos, Ilunga failing to clear and Elmander prodding home his second. So it's the usual 3-1 home defeat to streetwise Bolton then. We still need a right back and a new centre-back at the least.
We walk to West Ham tube and try to take the positives (Barrera and Piquionne look promising and hey, Kieron Dyer lasted 77 minutes).On the Jubilee line Matt discusses why we bothered to go at all. "There's always that optimism of the first home game of the dseason," he suggests.
"I lost my optimism at Villa last week," says the fan opposite. "It could have been eight."
Oh well, at least we've got rid of our optimism early. While our defence requires major engineering works every weekend.
Showing posts with label Bolton home. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bolton home. Show all posts
Monday, August 23
Monday, March 8
Home truths
West Ham 1 Bolton 2
In Ken’s Café we find a face from the past, Mike P, definitely not the inspiration for Porky’s seminal Part-Time Percy cartoons in Fortune’s Always Hiding.
These days Mike’s living in deepest Hertfordshire. He’s with his two kids and is one of the “million” West Ham fans David Sullivan is inviting to rejoin us in the programme. He’s too embarrassed to say when he last saw a game but he does say that he’s looking forward to seeing West Hampstead play again. And he’s reassured that like the clock at Grantchester, Ken’s Café never changes (Big Joe arriving breathless, DC arriving after kick-off, Carol bawling out numbers, Don looking downcast after home defeats, Etc).
Nigel arrives with CQ (Mrs Nigel) and The Gav, fortified by last night’s Heavy Metal Britannnia documentary. While in the queue for the counter Phill Jupitus reveals that he’s been busy working on Good Morning Nantwich, his new book about breakfast show DJs, out in August. Let's all buy it and keep him in toasted cheese sarnies.
It’s all very jolly until we remember that we always lose to Bolton.
Sure enough, we’re two goals down after 16 minutes. Lee has acres of space on the right and crosses. It looks as if Tomkins should head it, but he gets under the ball and Kevin Davies bullets the ball home with his bonce. Diamanti goes close with a free kick but then Tomkins tried to shepherd the ball out for a goal kick, only Davies nicks in and crosses for Cohen to set up the impressive on-loan Gooner Jack Wilshere to volley home. Bolton only have a few hundred fans in the away section and even they can't believe it.
Bolton are really coming at us and passing impressively. It’s nearly three when Elmander first misses from an angle and then wildly firing over after another tantalizing cross — an absolute sitter.
We look flat all over the park. Spector and Tomkins are being exposed and Franco is muscled off the ball. Diamanti does produce a good save from another free kick and Carlton looks certain to score only to be robbed by a well-timed tackle from Ricketts.
Nigel wonders if this will be Zola’s last game for the club. The owners won’t be impressed, particularly if we lose at Chelsea and Arsenal. In the second half we bring on three subs, Dyer for the injured Faubert after 47 minutes, with Behrami going to right-back, Mido for Franco and Stanislas for Kovac. Dyer shows one or two glimpses of speed and the player he could have been if injury hadn’t intervened.
The referee helpfully sends off Bolton's Cohen for a second yellow card but as ever we still struggle against ten men.
My kids have wisely opted to see Mamma Mia the Musical instead of this.
“The winner takes it all…” I mutter, “ and West Ham are sending out an SOS.”
“This could be our Waterloo,” suggests Nigel.
Just as we’ve settled for numbing defeat, on 88 minutes Diamanti curls in a beauty from the edge of the box. Oh no, we have hope.
On 90 minutes I have to break the habit of a lifetime and leave early as I’m reading for the Newham Bookshop in support of Book Aid at Stratford Circus at 5.20. I feel like Part-Time Percy myself, jogging to the tube, and there’s still a big queue when I get there.
In the five minutes of added time Zat Knight crosses for Davies to hit the bar for Notlob (the palindrome of Bolton as John Cleese would tell you) and at the death Junior Stanislas chests down and volleys against the underside of the bar. A big "Oooh!' comes from the stadium as I gaze at the brick wall while kettled by Upton Park tube.
A win today would have left us looking safe; instead we’re two points behind Bolton facing Chelsea and Arsenal away. Now our fate may not be decided until the last Sunday of the season. Mamma Mia, here we go again.
In Ken’s Café we find a face from the past, Mike P, definitely not the inspiration for Porky’s seminal Part-Time Percy cartoons in Fortune’s Always Hiding.
These days Mike’s living in deepest Hertfordshire. He’s with his two kids and is one of the “million” West Ham fans David Sullivan is inviting to rejoin us in the programme. He’s too embarrassed to say when he last saw a game but he does say that he’s looking forward to seeing West Hampstead play again. And he’s reassured that like the clock at Grantchester, Ken’s Café never changes (Big Joe arriving breathless, DC arriving after kick-off, Carol bawling out numbers, Don looking downcast after home defeats, Etc).
Nigel arrives with CQ (Mrs Nigel) and The Gav, fortified by last night’s Heavy Metal Britannnia documentary. While in the queue for the counter Phill Jupitus reveals that he’s been busy working on Good Morning Nantwich, his new book about breakfast show DJs, out in August. Let's all buy it and keep him in toasted cheese sarnies.
It’s all very jolly until we remember that we always lose to Bolton.
Sure enough, we’re two goals down after 16 minutes. Lee has acres of space on the right and crosses. It looks as if Tomkins should head it, but he gets under the ball and Kevin Davies bullets the ball home with his bonce. Diamanti goes close with a free kick but then Tomkins tried to shepherd the ball out for a goal kick, only Davies nicks in and crosses for Cohen to set up the impressive on-loan Gooner Jack Wilshere to volley home. Bolton only have a few hundred fans in the away section and even they can't believe it.
Bolton are really coming at us and passing impressively. It’s nearly three when Elmander first misses from an angle and then wildly firing over after another tantalizing cross — an absolute sitter.
We look flat all over the park. Spector and Tomkins are being exposed and Franco is muscled off the ball. Diamanti does produce a good save from another free kick and Carlton looks certain to score only to be robbed by a well-timed tackle from Ricketts.
Nigel wonders if this will be Zola’s last game for the club. The owners won’t be impressed, particularly if we lose at Chelsea and Arsenal. In the second half we bring on three subs, Dyer for the injured Faubert after 47 minutes, with Behrami going to right-back, Mido for Franco and Stanislas for Kovac. Dyer shows one or two glimpses of speed and the player he could have been if injury hadn’t intervened.
The referee helpfully sends off Bolton's Cohen for a second yellow card but as ever we still struggle against ten men.
My kids have wisely opted to see Mamma Mia the Musical instead of this.
“The winner takes it all…” I mutter, “ and West Ham are sending out an SOS.”
“This could be our Waterloo,” suggests Nigel.
Just as we’ve settled for numbing defeat, on 88 minutes Diamanti curls in a beauty from the edge of the box. Oh no, we have hope.
On 90 minutes I have to break the habit of a lifetime and leave early as I’m reading for the Newham Bookshop in support of Book Aid at Stratford Circus at 5.20. I feel like Part-Time Percy myself, jogging to the tube, and there’s still a big queue when I get there.
In the five minutes of added time Zat Knight crosses for Davies to hit the bar for Notlob (the palindrome of Bolton as John Cleese would tell you) and at the death Junior Stanislas chests down and volleys against the underside of the bar. A big "Oooh!' comes from the stadium as I gaze at the brick wall while kettled by Upton Park tube.
A win today would have left us looking safe; instead we’re two points behind Bolton facing Chelsea and Arsenal away. Now our fate may not be decided until the last Sunday of the season. Mamma Mia, here we go again.
Monday, October 6
A good game to miss...
West Ham 1 Bolton 3
Always write the football fixtures in your diary the day they come out. Her Indoors' arranges stuff aeons in advance and back in June she cited my blank diary as an excuse to book us on a family trip to Bath. Hence I’m in west country exile for the Bolton game.
We stay with Julie and Ben in the village of Limpley Stoke, which sounds a little like an Irons capitulation at the Britannia stadium. And the posh country pubs built with Bath stone don’t even have Sky.
At kick-off time we're tramping through wooded valleys and across a boggy field, where an irate cow charges our party. It's a little reminiscent of being confronted by Kevin Davies. Outstretched arms and an aggressive posture manage to see it off, although I wonder if Lucas Neill and co would be able to do the same.
Still, another win and we’ll make the top four. As we sit down to a pub Sunday lunch in Freshford the texts start to come through.
FOOTB WHFC:
Barclays Premier League: West Ham 0 Bolton 1 (Kevin Davies 30)
FOOTB WHFC:
Barclays Premier League: West Ham 0 Bolton 1 (Gary Cahill 33)
It’s strange how some mysterious form of kinetic energy enables the exiled Hammers’ fan to live the game while viewing it by text mesage. Over a mouthful of roast potato there are visions of early dominance ruined by a couple of defensive errors as Bolton bully us out of the game. The vicar's son near us will be swearing at Zola, Fraser will remaining cool and Nigel will be muttering about record home defeats and does anyone remember that Nick Barmby hat-trick here. There will be a second half fightback of course and a consolation goal to give the fans that terrible hope that always lurks within us:
FOOTB WHFC:
Barclays Premier League: West Ham 1 Bolton 2 (Carlton Cole 68)
And then the inevitable late third that seals the game:
FOOTB WHFC:
Barclays Premier League: West Ham 1 Bolton 3 (Matthew Taylor 86)
“Good game to miss…” texts Mat and I wonder if I’ll have to pay compensation to poor Lisa who was using my ticket. It’s almost as if I don’t need to watch Match of the Day.
But the TV evidence is that it’s the unlikely figure of Robert Green who’s let us down, spilling an innocuous cross to Davies and then failing to hold a shot for Cahill to poke home for the second. Bolton’s third was a scorcher from 40 yards, made easier by the lack of a defensive wall.
On the positive side Carlton Cole has already scored four goals this season and produced a brilliant save from the Bolton keeper. With Deano out all season it’s a huge chance for him to finally become a decent striker who gets 15 goals a season (he normally gets no more than four) providing he hires a chauffeur for nights out at Faces.
Zola reiterated his faith in Green and all the players; his trust is rather refreshing after the usual managerial rants and Arsene Wenger feeling “physically sick” whenever a side plays well at Arsenal.
And, in the absence of XL Holidays, we’re all going to Hull and back in a fortnight — the Barcelona of Humberside I’m told. Matt likes it so much he’s even turned it into a romantic mini-break, where hopefully the day will end with a Housemartins-style score of HULL 0 LONDON 4.
And there’s always Tottenham to laugh at.
Always write the football fixtures in your diary the day they come out. Her Indoors' arranges stuff aeons in advance and back in June she cited my blank diary as an excuse to book us on a family trip to Bath. Hence I’m in west country exile for the Bolton game.
We stay with Julie and Ben in the village of Limpley Stoke, which sounds a little like an Irons capitulation at the Britannia stadium. And the posh country pubs built with Bath stone don’t even have Sky.
At kick-off time we're tramping through wooded valleys and across a boggy field, where an irate cow charges our party. It's a little reminiscent of being confronted by Kevin Davies. Outstretched arms and an aggressive posture manage to see it off, although I wonder if Lucas Neill and co would be able to do the same.
Still, another win and we’ll make the top four. As we sit down to a pub Sunday lunch in Freshford the texts start to come through.
FOOTB WHFC:
Barclays Premier League: West Ham 0 Bolton 1 (Kevin Davies 30)
FOOTB WHFC:
Barclays Premier League: West Ham 0 Bolton 1 (Gary Cahill 33)
It’s strange how some mysterious form of kinetic energy enables the exiled Hammers’ fan to live the game while viewing it by text mesage. Over a mouthful of roast potato there are visions of early dominance ruined by a couple of defensive errors as Bolton bully us out of the game. The vicar's son near us will be swearing at Zola, Fraser will remaining cool and Nigel will be muttering about record home defeats and does anyone remember that Nick Barmby hat-trick here. There will be a second half fightback of course and a consolation goal to give the fans that terrible hope that always lurks within us:
FOOTB WHFC:
Barclays Premier League: West Ham 1 Bolton 2 (Carlton Cole 68)
And then the inevitable late third that seals the game:
FOOTB WHFC:
Barclays Premier League: West Ham 1 Bolton 3 (Matthew Taylor 86)
“Good game to miss…” texts Mat and I wonder if I’ll have to pay compensation to poor Lisa who was using my ticket. It’s almost as if I don’t need to watch Match of the Day.
But the TV evidence is that it’s the unlikely figure of Robert Green who’s let us down, spilling an innocuous cross to Davies and then failing to hold a shot for Cahill to poke home for the second. Bolton’s third was a scorcher from 40 yards, made easier by the lack of a defensive wall.
On the positive side Carlton Cole has already scored four goals this season and produced a brilliant save from the Bolton keeper. With Deano out all season it’s a huge chance for him to finally become a decent striker who gets 15 goals a season (he normally gets no more than four) providing he hires a chauffeur for nights out at Faces.
Zola reiterated his faith in Green and all the players; his trust is rather refreshing after the usual managerial rants and Arsene Wenger feeling “physically sick” whenever a side plays well at Arsenal.
And, in the absence of XL Holidays, we’re all going to Hull and back in a fortnight — the Barcelona of Humberside I’m told. Matt likes it so much he’s even turned it into a romantic mini-break, where hopefully the day will end with a Housemartins-style score of HULL 0 LONDON 4.
And there’s always Tottenham to laugh at.
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