Taty and Bowen see off Pompey

West Ham United 3 Portsmouth 1 (Carabao Cup, first round)

"Only Jesus can save you," read the banners held by the God Squadders outside Stratford station, which is a little pessimistic for a new season. In the Best Meze Cafe are Matt and Lisa, fresh from a safari in Tanzania where they saw three lions but missed the World Cup semi-final. After special pleading we are allowed to order off the breakfast menu and our food arrives with unusual alacrity. 

Outside the London Stadium they're no longer selling programmes, while inside the official programme tent has sold out. A lad is dispatched to get extra boxes and after a ten-minute wait I finally get my programme with Lamadrid on the front but no column from any of our numerous owners. Worryingly we're 21st after no games in the first published league table of the season.

We're joined by Nigel and CQ soaking up the big-game atmosphere. It's a record attendance of 53,369 for a League Cup first round tie and yet more proof of the West Ham' fans incredible loyalty.

A nice surprise is seeing Edson Alvarez in midfield. If we can keep him the big Mexican World Cup star can surely do a job in the Championship and he's ok here. David Sullivan is at the match and is informed by the fans that the Cockney Boys have got a new defender.

It's a nervy first 40 minutes from the Hammers as Portsmouth force several corners. Alvarez gets in a header straight at the keeper from a corner, but Kante looks out of position on the left and Orford isn't seeing much of the ball. The hydration break comes as a relief, though most West Ham fans seem to have hydrated on beer. "You sold your soul for this shithole!" chant the 9000 away fans, not very originally. Meanwhile Matt has had his first doubts of the season about the match day officials.

Pompey take the lead when Kilman heads clear but Segecic shoots from long-range and it deflects in off the unlucky Max. Hermansen spills but retrieves another long-range effort and that seems to wake West Ham up.

Two minutes before the break Orford does well to find Scarles on the left. He plays it to Kante who drives into the box and produces a great pull-back to bamboozle his man and then crosses for Taty Castellanos to score with a controlled finish. That was the 20-year-old Kante's first assist and a sign of the player he could become.

Deep into added time Scarles does well to head Alvarez's long ball back to Pablo. After a quick exchange of passes Pablo blunders into the box and slightly overruns it, but there is Jarrod Bowen to thump home a fine strike that takes a deflection off Shaughnessy. That's an assist for Pablo which might do his confidence some good.

At half-time Matt is amazed when Nigel goes early and eats his lucky banana, but the lad is undoubtedly feeling confident and even suggests that soft fruit might not affect the outcome. Meanwhile CQ has miraculously found some cups and free club water which she dispenses like a latter-day Florence Nightingale.

The Irons start the second half with good intensity and Walker-Peters and Bowen combine well on the right as Taty is foiled by a fine block from Devlin. KWP and Jarrod combine again on 50 minutes as Jarrod looks up to cross on to the head of Castellanos to make it 3-1.

The game is disjointed after that, with injuries and hydration breaks and one Pompey effort going just wide. Ward-Prowse gets his first minutes under Nuno and doesn't seem too popular with the away fans.

Orford forces a save from Schmid. Veltman comes on for ten minutes and looks lively on the right. His run sees Pablo, under pressure, strike the post. Will the Portugeezer ever score for West Ham? Late on Max Kilman, who has played well, makes a great interception and run from defence to set up Kyle Walker-Peters whose shot is well saved by Schmidt. It's good to see Josh Ajala get his debut for the final two minutes.

We hastily trek to the Eagle after persuading Matt not to take on the Pompey away crew. Here there's a solitary bottle of Ruddles in the fridge, plus Guinness, wine and Corona to take into the garden. Nigel's been to see Metallica in Cardiff and even better another heavy metal outfit called the Wurzels. While Matt's very excited to be going to Erith & Belvedere versus Billingshurst in the FA Cup and Lisa reminisces about giraffes, a bloat of hippos, hyenas and jackals in the Serengeti.

So a decent start to the season though the squad needs more signings. The full-backs played well, Kilman and the Greek Bloke looked solid at the back and Taty and Bowen will always score goals. Kante got an assist and Orford grew into the game though a midfield creator and a left winger are still needed. Now the proper stuff starts at Burnley. Come on you Irons!

PLAYER RATINGS: Hermansen 6; Walker-Peters 7, Kilman 7, Mavropanos 6, Scarles 7; Alvarez 6 (Diouf 6), Orford 6, Kante 6 (Ward-Prowse 6); Bowen 8 (Ajana n/a), Castellanos 8 (Veltman 7), Pablo 6.

Two-nil in our Cup Final

West Ham 2 Portsmouth 0

We’re in Hertfordshire with Her Indoors’ mother, and the only train running is the Stansted Express. At Tottenham Hale the tube resembles a scene from Day of the Triffids. It’s a shambling Sunday service and only one shop open at a post-apocalyptic Liverpool Street.

But at least there’s a Christmas Carol in Ken’s Café, plus Matt, Lisa, Big Joe and Littler Jo and lots of chips. Although Nigel’s in Richmond Park with his mum and Fraser’s at Wolverhampton races. Little Billy from the Café is going to the debtors' derby as a surprise Christmas present, poor sod.

Before kick-off there’s a little cheer for Hammers legend Hayden “he never lets you down” Mullins. Franco is in the side despite the Independent claiming he had suffered a “freak training ground injury”.

It’s an ugly relegation battle in the first half. There’s the obligatory early injury. Noble goes off and is replaced by Jimenez, leaving us looking lightweight in midfield.

We look nervous at the back and Green drops a cross. Jimenez is fluffing passes and raises the ire of the vicar’s son next to me: “Show some heart Jimenez! He’s like the cowardly lion!” he exclaims, wondering if West Ham will ever find the yellow brick road or be purchased by the Wizard of Oz.

Pompey are playing with just one man up and are also pretty dirty — the odious Michael Brown and Dindane are both booked for scything fouls.

“Small team from Millwall!” sing the Pompey fans. “Is that all you bring away?” chant the Irons.

Diamanti plays in some fine crosses from deep and eventually we win a penalty. Franco is blocked and the ball breaks to Jimenez who is hacked down by one Hayden Mullins. Allesandro has the arrogance you need to be a Premier League player, and never looks like missing from the spot.

Collison should have made it two before the break when he steers the ball wide of an empty net after the as always excellent Parker squares the ball across goal.

Early in the second half Diamanti has a deflected shot brilliantly saved by Begovic. But then we sit back and Portsmouth attack much more once Kanu comes on. Piquionne has a shot saved by Green and then almost profits from a dodgy back pass to Green.

“We’ve got three players who are defensive liabilities in Franco, Jimenez and Diamanti,” bemoans Matt. We can’t see why the half-paced Franco is allowed to stay on. He’s clearly not fit and Nouble would at least run around more. At least Zola brings on Behrami for Diamanti to add some defensive work rate.

It’s end to end though and we have a much better final 20 minutes. Parker and Kovac are both working hard and winning tackles. Collison shimmies and has a low shot saved by the keeper. Sub Behrami sees the ball squirm just wide of the post. Jimenez bizarrely fails to shoot when the opportunity is there and then has a free kick tipped over. But at one goal we can never be sure.

Then on 89 minutes Jimenez swings in a great free kick and Kovac rises like a great blonde Father Christmas to beat Mullins to the ball and thump a superb header into the back of the net, before leaping into the arms of fans in the Bobby Moore Stand as if he'd always dreamed of scoring for the Hammers as a boy in Prague.

“We never doubted him!” says Matt.

“Where was Nigel when Kovac scored his first home goal before becoming a West Ham legend?” I ask. "And when we finally kept a clean sheet?" Before the game you'd have got better odds on Tiger Woods keeping his sheet untarnished.

It’s been a strange game for Jiminez, who has looked lightweight and diffident but made both goals. Nouble at last gets to come on in the first minute of added time.

An ugly game but a great win for the Irons, and we’re now four points off the bottom and out of the relegation zone. We had to get three points today because we never win at Spurs.

Merry Christmas Bob Scratchit, Tiny Tim (or is it Kevin Keen?), seven-year-old Freddie Sears and Gianfranco Zola! And perhaps the enlightened Ebenezer Scrooge is now thinking of making an offer for West Ham.

Something better change?

West Ham 0 Portsmouth 0

Nigel’s been to see the Stranglers, he informs us in the nice’n’sleazy Ken’s Cafe.

“We certainly need to straighten out the midfield,” says Matt.

“You could say after no wins for six games that something better change,” suggests Nigel.

“There are no more heroes anymore,” I moan.

“They wrote a song about our misunderstood former chairman didn’t they?” says Matt, “Golden Brown”.

My seven-year-old daughter Nell demolishes egg, chips sausage and beans and ketchup and salt, enjoying the substances forbidden once you pass the border patrols of Islington. We’re waiting for my pal Fleur down from Yorkshire and her son George, somewhere on a train from Slough. They are delayed by a late train and the impression that it takes half an hour to tube it from Paddington to Upton Park.

In side Upton Park the good news is that Cole and Behrami are back and Upson has recovered from his dead leg. David James receives a sporting ovation from the Bobby Moore Stand.

As against Everton, our football is good. We make lots of intricate patterns, Parker is busy, Sears is causing trouble out wide and Collison is again a revelation in midfield. We’re playing with spirit, but again we lack a cutting edge.

“Daddy, why do West Ham always lose?” asks Nell, causing Matt, Nigel and Fraser to chuckle. I wonder if I have the moral right to inflict further claret and blue traumas upon an innocent child…

At half-time it’s not looking too bad. “Our football’s been really good apart from creating chances,” I suggest.

“That’s like saying someone’s really attractive apart from the huge birth mark across their face,” counters Nigel.

News reaches us that Fleur and George have picked up the tickets I left at Ken’s at 4pm only to find the stadium shut. But security have helped them find seats in the Bobby Moore Stand where they’re greeted with cries of “You ain’t missed much!”

In the second half we have a good chance is when a defender skies the ball into the air and Carlton Cole takes an air-kick. For all his industry he’s no Deano.

Defoe is their biggest threat. He slips past Collins and Rob Green makes a fantastic save. Then Green tips over another Defoe lob and saves a third effort with his legs in front of Fabio Capello. Nell asks why we boo Defoe and not Carlos Tevez. Ah, the intricacies of football allegiances…

The hardworking Behrami is brought down on the edge of the box. Craig Bellamy’s free kick thumps back off the bar and Collison does well to volley the ball back but it goes straight to James. The crowd are behind the lads now, we struggle for that elusive win, make pretty patterns but as ever, we make Distin, Kaboul and James look like man mountains.

We plead with Matt to start swearing again because we haven't won since he stated behaving like a vicar's son. But he claims he can only get angry when we're winning and look like throwing it away.

Defoe is through again but Greeny saves with his legs this time. The final whistle goes, and Nigel points out that we’ve kept a clean sheet for the first time in 25 games. That should be the headline item on the national news.

Zola talks about his grand project and creating a new mentality after the game, but the harsh fact is we haven’t won in seven games and Curbs’ sides regularly picked up points.

Nigel forgoes hanging around to head home to relive his Stranglers gig. I reflect that there’s the germ of something in our football. Sears and Collison look like our next stars to flog to Chelsea, it’s all there apart from the finishing. One day, perhaps, we’ll give someone a tonking.

Although as Hugh Cornwall might sing: “But the money’s no good… just get a grip on yourself.”