Three wins in a row! First-half goal blitz demolishes Mackems

West Ham 3 (three) Sunderland 1

It's an early start for the 12.30pm kick-off and straight to the ground for me. Which is just as well as Matt, Lisa, Nigel and Michael report mayhem, absent chefs and missed omelettes in the Best Cafe. After the win against QPR I've opted to keep my lucky Seventies away shirt and Xmas gifted grey WHU bobble hat which seemed to work last time.

Nuno selects the same side that won at Spurs and perhaps convinced that Hell is looking decidedly chilly, selects James Ward-Prowse on the bench. There's an anxious moment early on as a long-throw is headed clear and Sadiki's shot has to be tipped over by Areola.

But the Irons soon get their passing game going and without Paqueta we suddenly seem to have found some team spirit. On 14 minutes Wan-Bissaka releases Jarrod Bowen on the right. In a fine piece of old-fashioned wing play he beats Reinildo, gets to the line and stands up a cross for the diminutive Crysencio Summerville to head home. That's three in three games for Jimmy. 

Our problem this season has invariably been not getting a second after going ahead. That's remedied by a flowing eight-man passing move that sees Ollie Scarles burst into the box and fall over Hume's outstretched leg. Bowen dispatches the penalty into the corner.

Pablo has been involved in a couple of the passes in the move for the penalty and although his control is at times poor, he's working for the team and willing to get stuck in. Taty is chasing everything up front and without Paqueta, Fernandes is revelling in his role as midfield orchestrator. There's something to be said for fielding 11 faithfuls. 

The third goal arrives as Fernandes plays a great long ball from defence to Summerville on the left wing. He finds Castellanos whose shot is blocked by Ballard. The ball breaks to Fermandes thirty yards out and he wallops a delicious strike into the top corner. What sort of thing is happening here?

The booked Reinildo is lucky to stay on after another foul before the break but we're certainly happy with 3-0. Michael wonders if the relief chef at the Best Cafe has been inserting magic mushrooms into the food. We wonder why J G Ballard is in defence for Sunderland and if he wrote Crash about the Hammers. Though Matt speculates that Empire of the Son was a tribute to Spurs.

It would be nice to get four or five but Sunderland improve with three subs on. As ever West Ham defend too deep and Sunderland pull one back as Diarra finds Mukiele, whose cross is headed home by the unmarked Mr Brobbey. With 24 minutes left it gets a bit nervy though the closest the Mackems come to scoring is O'Nien's mishit shot that catches Areola out as he fumbles the effort on to the angle before catching it.

Nuno brings on Wilson, Potts and Diouf to manage the game. African Cup of Nations winner Diouf gets in some good solid headers while Wilson's turn in the box almost creates a chance. 

"Come on you Irons!" implore the home fans. West Ham almost get a fourth at the death as a corner is cleared and Fernandes lashes another fine shot against the bar. Wilson heads the rebound on and Soucek almost bundles the ball over the line but the ref awards a foul against the keeper as the Greek Bloke and Ballard tussle like rutting stags in the box.

So it ends 3-1 and that's three wins in a row. It's not the despair we can't take it's the hope. We head to the chilly beer garden of the Eagle to celebrate before Michael leaves to see a Mahler symphony, that's by Gustav not Joe. We might have left it too late but there are signs of life at last in beating a team in the top half. Irons!

PLAYER RATINGS: Areola 6; Wan-Bissaka 6, Mavropanos 7, Todibo 6, Scarles 7 (Diouf 6); Soucek 6, Fernandes 8; Bowen 8, Pablo 6 (Wilson 6), Castellanos 6 (Potts 6), Summerville 8 (Kilman n/a).

Winston wins it for the Irons!

West Ham 1 Sunderland 0

It’s into the (Clyde) Best Café with Nigel, Michael and Matt, who’s seen the kids at Little Heath in the morning. We’re also joined by my brother-in-law Drew and his ten-year-old son Jago, attending his first match. Jago quizzes us on who is the greatest player we’ve ever seen and after going through Christian Dailly and Steve Potts, we agree it’s probably Messi or Ronaldo. Then it’s a late trek past gridlock at gate G and into the stadium just after kick-off.

West Ham start confidently and have a good 35 minutes. Payet goes close three times; shooting just wide, drawing a save from Pickford and then hitting the inside of the post. Fernandes is getting forward well as emergency left wing-back and on the right Antonio’s pace is causing problems. Zaza goes close with an audacious overhead kick. Defoe gets in a softish shot and you can see Sunderland coming into it more as West Ham’s failure to score brings back the old doubts

At half time Drew buys Jago a bargain £3.50 box of popcorn, which he is going to throw at the players if they don’t score soon.

Khazri gets clear early in the second half but shoots too close to Adrian. For the rest of the half West Ham attack but lack creativity, with even Payet struggling. Antonio crosses too low into the first defender on several occasions and is hooked for Feghouli. The Albanian man plays with urgency, but like Antonio struggles to beat the first defender with his crosses.

Young Jago learns some interesting new phrases such as “get up you tart!” from the man behind us. Though he’s pleasingly willing on West Ham to score. Zaza is surprisingly replaced with Calleri and Ashley Fletcher gets on for the last 10 minutes. Fletcher makes one good break down the left only to cross to a defender. The crowd get going with some “Come on you Irons!” as we get more desperate.

WINSTON WILL NEVER SURRENDER

Moyes brings on more defenders and this one has a goalless draw written all over it. We’re into the fourth minute of added time when Noble wins a corner. From the short corner Payet finds Winston Reid, who manages to get the ball from under his feet on to his left foot and fires through a crowd of players past the unsighted Pickford. The London Stadium erupts in relief as Winston runs to the corner. Calleri looks like he might be offside but as we quip, he seldom interferes with play. Never in doubt!

It’s going to be a long journey home for the Sunderland fans. Fraser, Matt, Michael and myself retreat to the King Edward V11. It’s a nice old-fashioned boozer with low beams, although the central heating is turned up to 11 and after an impromptu sauna over a pint we retreat into the beer garden, where a mural tells us the pub was built in 1904 and was originally the King of Prussia before changing its name in a fit of pre-Brexit patriotism.

We discuss what was our worst ever home win and decide that it wasn’t today as we played well for the first 35 minutes; the general consensus is that it was the 2-1 win against Hull’s ten men. Fraser and Michael head off in search of the hipster bar on the roof of the Stratford Centre (it’s only open in the summer they discover) while Matt and myself opt for the Overground where a drunk fans sits slumped in front of the doors before falling off the train at Canonbury.

We’re unbeaten for three matches now and kept a clean sheet for two since Obiang came into the side. Not a great game but the result meant everything today and the good thing is the Irons never gave up. Now we can start looking upwards.

PLAYER RATINGS: Adrian 6; Antonio 5 (Feghouli 5), Kouyate 5, Ogbonna 5, Reid 7, Fernandes 6; Noble 6, Obiang 6, Lanzini 5 (Fletcher 5), Payet 7; Zaza 6 (Calleri 5).

Antonio sees off Sunderland

West Ham 1 Sunderland 0

The big news in Ken’s Café is that Nigel’s doing warm weather training in Dubai, so Lisa has his ticket, and Matt’s met a barber who knows even more stats than he does. There’s a huge queue outside the Cafe, due to the 12.45pm kick-off and Michael the Whovian is way behind us with his big breakfast order. I’m with my daughter Nell, who’s worried we won’t get a table, but I explain that it’s an immutable law of Ken’s that one always materialises, as it does.

During our long wait we wonder if the venerable Fraser was at the 8-0 Sunderland match back in 1968, saying that Greenwood should resign as he only played four forwards. Turns out he wasn’t.

Our food arrives at 12.40pm. “I don’t care what they say about you Carol I think you do a fantastic job!” quips Mike, as she explains the vagaries of ticket-hunting fans and early kick-offs.

Nell’s impressed by the speed I manage to eat my eggs chips and beans, so I explain you can do anything with a kick-off as an incentive. “Treat everything in life as if you’re going to miss the kick-off and you won’t go wrong!” My aphorism appeals to Michael, who has moved to a separate table to begin demolition work on his big breakfast.

AT THE BACK OF ROW R

We arrive five minutes after kick-off, but haven’t missed much. I’m in Nell’s seat, which is the back of Row R in the corner, where you can’t even see the non-working scoreboard. Fraser says Big Sam was greeted by indifference, with the crowd’s ire reserved for Defoe. We think Sam might have been tempted to sign Paul Ince and Frank Lampard as human shields for this one too.

Sunderland are more difficult to beat now they’ve signed Kone, Kirchoff, Khazri and N’Doye. The game’s a scrappy affair with the crowd quiet after rushing their lunches. Khazri almost scores after some poor control by Adrian and then hits the top of the bar with a fine dipping free kick. In turn Noble has a thunderous shot tipped on to the bar by Mannone after being set up by Lanzini. You wish Nobes would try that more. We take the lead when Antonio wriggles through two defenders into the box and passes a curling shot into the far corner. A great effort and his fifth of the season.Mikail celebrates with a bizarre Homer Simpson "grass dancing" routine on the turf.

“You’re going down with Adam Johnson!” chant the Bobby Moore Stand.

HOMER WIN

Antonio has a snap-shot saved by Mannone and then it’s half-time. “You don’t want Carroll to come on against Sunderland because he’ll try too hard and get injured,” says Matt, “or Liverpool, or Newcastle.”

“Or anyone, really,” I add.

Michael makes a determined sortie to accost Irons-supporting actor Donald Sumpter, Lord High President of the Time Lords. He’s not interested in an interview with Michael’s friend Toby, but is available for read-throughs, so a bit of a result for our budding playwright.

The second half sees West Ham start slowly, and Sunderland create chances. Defoe volleys wide and Adrian makes a great save from sub Rodwell. Andy Carroll comes on for Emenike and makes things happen, though he should probably score when he volleys (or actually shins it, looking at the replay) Byram’s knock-down on to the bar. A couple of times Cresswell gets into the box only to fall over. But we see the game out thanks to good games from Ogbonna and Collins and a great late tackle from Byram to deny Rodwell.

RESPECTING THE PINT

Twist and Shout and Highway to Hell are on the PA after the final whistle as I try to extricate myself from the back of the stand. Not a great game, but we go up to fifth. “It was a bit like a Big Sam tribute game, really, a scrappy 1-0 win,” suggests Matt as we head to the Central. Big Sam is all over the BT screen in the pub, saying that Sunderland just need to be more clinical in front of goal. But it's West Ham who have respected the three points. We go fifth! And we're definitely safe on 43 points now.

PLAYER RATINGS: Adrian 7; Byram 7, Collins 7, Ogbonna 7, Cresswell 5; Antonio 7, Noble 6 (Obiang 5), Kouyate 6, Lanzini 6 (Moses 6), Payet 6; Emenike 5 (Carroll 6). 

Diafra Sakho: He scores when he wants!

West Ham 1 Sunderland 0

It’s an early dinner in Ken’s Café with my no-longer kids for a quid daughter Lola. Michael the Renaissance Man and Matt discuss why we shouldn’t have video evidence in games, which seems to be mainly because it would spoil the flow of the game and more importantly Matt wouldn’t be able to shout at the refs anymore. Lola asks where Marlon Harewood is now and Matt is able to inform us he’s at Hartlepool.

Then it’s on to the Newham Bookshop where Lola buys Ghostwritten by David Mitchell for her mum’s birthday. Though I always thought he was an old Fulham player. Or was that John Mitchell?

Inside the stadium we learn that Fraser has been advised by his doctor to avoid over-excitement, but West Ham games will be fine. While Nigel looks very pleased with the return of his West Ham hat that I rescued from a District Line train after the Chelsea game.

FRIEND OR DEFOE?

Sunderland look better motivated under new gaffer Dick Advocaat, and give West Ham a couple of early scares. Jermain Defoe, who’s frequently reminded that he’s not a popular man by the Bobby Moore Stand, crosses and Wickham produces a good volley that is blocked by Adrian. Kouyate is then caught out of position as a flick sends Defoe clear, but Small Paul Ince volleys over the bar.

West Ham dominate the rest of the half, even if it’s a scrappy game. A fizzing centre from Downing is just missed by Jarvis in the middle and then Sakho heads Cresswell’s cross wide. Jarvis produces a great cross into the box only for Nolan to be held back by a defender. Song produces a good long-range shot that Pantilimon does well to push wide.

The second half sees Nigel change his claret West Ham hat for a claret and blue hooped version in a desperate bid to bring WHU some luck. Carlton Cole comes on for Jarvis and does a decent job up front, holding up the ball and being a nuisance for the Sunderland centre backs.

Cresswell produces another fine cross and Sakho heads wide when he should score. A Collins punt into the box sees Nolan blatantly held by Vergini, but the ref gives offside even though the ball flicked off O’Shea.

STOP ALL THE CLOCKS 

The stadium clock stops and then moves backwards towards a singularity. Michael the Whovian believes it’s a time rift in E13.

Adam Johnson comes on for Sunderland and is promptly reminded by some members of the crowd that West Ham have a very good kids-for-a-quid ticketing scheme for games such as this. He brings more threat to Sunderland though and Van Aanholt’s long-range shot produces a good save from Adrian.

At least Matt never gives up hope (much), apart from the odd tirade at Downing and the ref. I reassure Lola that West Ham will still win, without really believing it. But then Jenkinson finds Noble, whose first pass is blocked, but as Nene climbs over Larrsson, the ball comes back to Nobes who dinks a great ball through to Sakho. Diafra finishes confidently into the corner, as Upton Park erupts with relief. “Diafra Sakho he scores when he wants!” sing the fans. Nene has got away with a foul, but we deserve a break after recent weeks.

The clock stopping has helped. We think there’s ten minutes left but actually there’s only three minutes of added time, as Big Sam brings on Joey O’Brien to waste some time. Poor game, great result. The side should regain some confidence from this and start looking up rather than down again.

PLAYER RATINGS: Adrian 6; Jenkinson 6, Collins 7, Kouyate 6, Creswell 6; Noble 6, Nolan 5 (Nene 5), Song 5, Downing 6, Jarvis 5 (Cole 6); Sakho 7 (O’Brien n/a).

Drawing drawing West Ham…

West Ham 0 Sunderland 0

For some strange reason Her Indoors has suggested we go to Brussels for our wedding anniversary mini-break rather than watch another six-pointer versus Sunderland at Upton Park. Though in between visits to the Grand Place, the Burleymont and the frites stand at Place Jourdan I do manage to find BBC’s Final Score on the hotel TV and receive various updates from Blighty.

At half-time Matt texts: “Abysmal first half. Utterly shite refereeing and they hit the bar. We had one disallowed and one off the line.” Things haven’t improved by full time. Nigel comments: “Really really poor, am worried Big Sam has lost the dressing room. Sunderland had much more fighting spirit. Their keeper’s only save in second half was from mishit McCartney cross. The worst thing was that Sunderland constantly seemed to have an extra player on the pitch.” Matt declares: “And the second half was even worse. We’re worse than under Avram. In more shocks you had to pay to get into the Central back room.” While DC adds: “It was truly awful. Next three games could be truly embarrassing.”

Hmm. Doesn’t sound like a very satisfying afternoon at the office, though at least Fulham and Palace have lost. We have now had five nil-nils, more goalless draws than in the whole of the Bundesliga this season. I am shocked and surprised to discover there is bad finishing on the Upton Park premises. The next day we visit the Magritte Museum which is even more surreal than West Ham, where the spirit of Rene Magritte suggests WHU need some more blue sky thinking and to play a man with a bowler hat and pipe up front as he might be more prolific than Maiga.

The only consolation is we have crisis club Spurs coming up next in the Capital One Cup…

We need to talk about Kevin's goal

West Ham 1 Sunderland 1

Outed as a part-timer... Trying to fit in travelling on the 6pm train to Bristol for a Dexys gig meant that I left the match at 90 minutes, telling Nigel, CQ, Matt, Fraser and Michael the Whovian that we were certain to score once I'd left. Sure enough clucking Kevin Nolan netted while your man was jogging down Green Street. The lads tell me it was a Maradona-like run beating ten players or possibly a 70-yard screamer into the top corner or a Di Canio-esque volley.

Even if we'd lost though, I'd have been encouraged by the team spirit. West Ham go behind early in the game. After a Barcelona type passing movement at the back (ironic for an Allardyce side) Collins plays a terrible ball and Sunderland break. Fletcher nets confidently from Larrsson's cross. "Stephen Fletcher… He scores when he likes…" sing the away fans. McLean slices wide but WHU come back. There are some signs that Demel is returning to form. He makes one great challenge that sets up Vaz Te to cross for Nolan, whose overhead kick produces a brilliant save from Mignolet. Vaz Te with a header and Nolan again both go close.

In the second half West Ham batter the Sunderland defence in which O'Shea and Bramble excel. Diame has a storming game. Collins almost atones for his error by heading against the bar and the Irons force endless  corners. Substitute Matt Jarvis makes a big difference and flights in crosses from every angle. Good to see Yossi get a run-out too. The crowd get behind the side though it looks like being a Sunderland away win until mystic May leaves and precipitates the equaliser.

In Bristol Kevin Rowland is on fine form for Dexys despite being older than Sam Allardyce and it's great to hear the whole of the new album and old classics like Tell Me When My Light Turns Green, What's She Like and Come On Eileen. And in response to Matt's text, no I didn't leave two minutes before the encore...

That's why we're going down…

West Ham 0 Sunderland 3

No tubes again, so it’s the usual forced march from West Ham station to Green Street. After this season we are certainly fit to wear the shirt, unlike several of the team. Amazingly 32,000 fans have turned up to see a dead rubber (or should that be dead parrot?).

“Are you up for a trip to the Black Lion?” asks Nigel in Ken’s Cafe.

“Can we go now?” quips Matt.

At least Carol is happy with Ken’s Café’s mention in the Observer's end-of-season round-up. Big Joe, a promoter, is impressed by the WHU end-of-season gala. “When we organize fights we normally book them for the end of the evening, not 9.15!”

Kevin Keen has picked a youthful side and there’s no place for Ba and Cole (apparently injured) while substitute Scotty Parker receives his Hammer of the Year award before kick off.

There’s a strange atmosphere of resignation from the home fans and it feels like watching a training match.

Sears at least looks interested in the early stages, forcing a save with a snap shot. Hitzlsperger has a shot that rebounds from the keeper with no striker following in and Hines fluffs a one-on-one, before Sunderland take the lead. Elmohamady’s cross is headed by the unmarked Zenden and lopes over the helpless Green.

“Keen out!” I suggest.

Just before half-time Piquionne crosses and a smart turn and shot from Zavon Hines sees Mignolet make a great save. We retreat into the East Stand to discuss potential managers. Bizarrely, Carlo Ancellotti is reported as saying he’d manage us in the News of the World.

“Neil Lennon must want a break from Glasgow,” suggests Fraser.

“And he’s used to people abusing him,” I add.

“David Blunkett’s in line for job because he knows how to hold a lead,” suggests Nigel.

At least Keen maintains the Avram Grant tradition of being worse after the interval.

Sessegnon is given more space than a district line track engineer as he strolls through our parting midfield to fire home from distance. Possibly Green should have done better.

WE'VE ONLY GOT ONE MAN
Parker comes on, to chants of "We've only got one man!", but our performance is devoid of passion. There’s chants of, “We’re going to Coventry!” and then an impromptu conga in the Chicken Run.

With the last kick of the game our defence melts away again and Riveros, previously a flop for Sunderland, fires home. A fitting way to end the season.

“That’s why we’re going down!” chants a mournful Bobby Moore Stand.

The best part of the day is the Adnams in the Black Lion. Gavin turns up with some Silesian sausages, which sounds like something from Doctor Who. “They’re 100 per cent pork,” he declares. Best result of the season for the Gav. Meanwhile we have a team of Silesian sausages.

Thank goodness it’s over. At last we can rest — at least until August when we’re sure to be playing Doncaster or Barnsley away. All we need is a manager and a team.

We are staying up?

West Ham 1 Sunderland 0

You’d think there was an election on. Jo and Iain are Twittering and discussing Blackberry apps, politicos and spin doctors in Ken’s Café.

An uneasy thought occurs. What if David Sullivan had Twitter? Think of the instant abuse the side might receive. At least the Club Landlord’s been safely shut away in the build-up to today’s game and Nice Guy Gold is doing the programme column.

Meanwhile, Nigel’s musing on who will be the Independent’s new editor, while Carol informs us that Ken Livingstone says she does the best bacon sandwich in London to confirm that Ken’s is the political salon de nos jours.

It’s replica shirts and sunshine at a balmy Upton Park. Bubbles is played at the kick-off and then taken up acapella around the stadium. The spring sun seems to engender a mood of optimism and the weather is reminiscent of the day we beat Bolton to secure survival n the Tevez Season.

Except we don’t go 3-0 up this time. The sides appear evenly matched. Sunderland are a compact unit and hard to break down.

Early doors Malbranque’s corner whips across our six yard box and Bent lobs just over Green. Behrami plays a one-two with Ilan and fires in a low shot that Gordon spills.

The Sunderland keeper then handles outside the box after Noble has sprayed a pass out to Cole. Stanislas messes up the free kick.

But it’s encouraging, with Noble making a great tackle and finding Cole, whose pass to Ilan is blocked at the last by one Anton Ferdinand.

Da Costa fire up a long ball and Cole appears to challenge Gordon fairly. The Scottish custodian drops the ball and rugby tackles Cole. A penalty and a red card? No, the ref gives a free kick to the over-protected goalkeeper.

At half-time Hull and Burnley are drawing 1-1 and we still have it all to do. One goal might well win it.

“Ilan hasn’t done much,” muses Nigel.

“He’s the sort of player who doesn’t do much until he scores,” replies Mystic May.

Sure enough, 30 seconds later Da Costa fires in a high free kick, Cole nods it on and Ilan shows great sharpness to latch on to the ball and prod home before the Bobby Moore Stand and release an outpouring of relief

Oh no, we have something to lose. It’s gong to be a long last 39 minutes.

Cattermole fires just wide after a flowing Sunderland move. Then Jones comes on, which looks ominous, as Sunderland go with three strikers. Jones’ first move is to play in Bent, who stumbles in the box.

Bubbles echoes around the stadium, but you can feel the tension as the fans try to sing the lads home. We bring on Franco for Stanislas and withdraw Ilan to midfield, which appears a bizarre move.

“Best keep the cigars in their box,” I tell Fraser.

“I’ve got ten, just in case,” he replies.

We give a free kick away on the left side of our box after hesitation between Behrami and Spector, but Green makes a fine stop from Henderson’s shot.

Spector makes a great run up the left flank, only to fall over and, bizarrely, win a free kick on the edge of the box. The US defender then plays through Carlton Cole who fires narrowly wide on 90 minutes. Hull are 3-1 down. Bloody hell, this feels like Old Trafford again.

Faubert plays another long ball into their box, Franco controls with his arm and fires home. Midfield general Franco and most of the side rush away to celebrate in the corner, Guillermo does some embarrassing badge clasping and no-one seems to realise it’s been disallowed.

The Sunderland players want to take the free kick but the ref rules it’ would be unsporting, thank goodness.

But in the fourth minute of added time there’s still time for Sunderland to win a corner, Gordon to come up, and there’s one last mighty attempt to block and clear from the Irons before the whistle blows.

“We are staying up! I said we are staying up!”” comes the chant. Our first win since February 20. Hull have lost 4-1. Anton Ferdinand runs to the corner flag to applaud the West Ham fans. A great day.

“We never win with that Scott Parker in the side,” says Nigel.

An encouraging performance. There’s been crowd pleasing tackles and a willingness to play from Noble, some gutsy defending from Da Costa and co and Ilan is proving a match winner.

We retreat to the Central thinking that one more win might do it. Although in this season, you suspect there might be a few more twists yet.

We're all going on a Europa tour?

West Ham 2 Sunderland 0

“Now don’t be upset if West Ham lose,” I warn my eight-year-old daughter Nell, who’s qualified for a free ticket today as an Academy member. “We’re without Collison, Behrami, Cole, Parker and Kovac,” I explain, wondering how we’ll field a side.

There’s a healthy turnout in Ken’s before the match, Fraser, Matt, Jo, Mike, Nigel (showboating by mentioning a planned trip to Banbury FC) and lucky omen CQ (who has a hundred per cent record in her two games so far this season). Nell is quizzed on her Sylvanian Families Collection by Jo, and fortified by isotonic sausage, egg, chips, beans, bread and butter.

We’re in the Doctor Martens Stand this week, just above the Centenary Stand goal. Anton Ferdinand receives a nice cheer as the teams are read out. It’s a scratch side, and early on Sunderland have the better chances with Leadbitter shooting wide and Cisse, fresh from his arrest outside a lapdance club as is de rigueur for a Premiership striker, producing another tip-away from Rob Green.

But we dig in, Neill makes some telling tackles in the unfamiliar position of midfield enforcer, Stanislas runs at their defence on the left flank and has a shot blocked, and Tristan looks as if his brain still knows what to do, even if his body is lagging behind.

“Daddy, why aren’t they singing 'Dirty northern custards' at Sunderland?" asks Nell, having seen us beat them 2-0 in 2005.

Neither team looks like breaking the deadlock and you can see it going the way of the WBA goalless draw,

But just before half-time Boa Morte takes the ball from Rob Green’s throw, plays the ball to Di Michele takes the return and accelerates into the Sunderland box, before squaring to 19-year-old Junior Stanislas to score an easy goal on his first start for the Hammers. He’s the first Junior to score for the Hammers since Frank Lampard. It’s also great to see Boa Morte finally playing with some confidence. Blimey.

At half-time a rainbow appears on the pitch above the sprinklers and maybe thee will soon be a yellow brick road to Europe too.

It gets better in the second half. Tristan has a shot saved and from the resulting corner James Tomkins heads home. His marker, Anton Ferdinand, looks as if he’s longing for the joy of East London and Faces nightclub.

“You’re going down with the Shearer!” chants the Centenary Stand.

Upson has another header saved by their keeper. Tristan lobs just over. There’s a long stoppage when Spector lands awkwardly after winning a header and lies unconscious on the pitch. Tough on Specs but a sign that this squad is plying for each other

The rest of the game is almost a stroll. Collins clears from the line and Cisse fluffs a late chance. "Why is Frank Lampard fat?… Is it true Chelsea ain’t got no history?” asks Nell, as the Irons’ fans regale us with a litany of anti-Chelsea ditties.

“We’ll easily survive eight minute!” says Nell, with the optiism of youth, unaware of the Wimbledon or WBA home debacles. For the eight minutes of added time she chants a mantra of “Sunderland are going to see!” And they do. We’re seventh! Jeremy Nicholas plays Twist and Shout as the sun streams down. And Tony Carr's incredible Academy is still working. We've blooded Stanislas, Tomkins, Sears, Collison, Payne and Noble in recent seasons.

There’s still time to visit the WHU shop, and then the Newham Bookshop and purchase a Horrid Henry Book (John says the Belgian Irons have been I today dreaming of a Europa Cup tie in their home land) before visiting the Black Lion to see Fraser, Matt, Jo and Mike. News arrives that Mystic Morris predicted Tomkins would score seconds before he did. Matt also says that some ignorant bloggers had earlier in the week suggested that West Ham might lose every game from now on. As if.

“Daddy, I told you Sunderland were rubbish,” adds Nell over a J20. Time to console some sad Makems at the bar as Fraser buys me a pint of Buffer. And to consider that with Spurs having lost to another last minute clanger there’s a considerable buffer between us and the north London upstarts.