Irons battered by Potters

Stoke City 2 West Ham 1

After last season’s bank holiday fiasco involving an enforced change at Derby to wait for a one-carriage train to Stoke, it’s reassuring to find that the Virgin Pendolino only takes one hour and 20 minutes from London to Stoke. Indeed it's surprising we haven't been linked with Virgin Pendolino, whom Nani probably thinks is a chaste but speedy Italian midfielder.

There’s even time to check out some family history and visit the house my mum was born in. So it’s down the London Road and past the oatcake shop and chippy and the former pottery turned into a park. It’s quite a posh house for Stoke, in that it’s semi-detached and has a garden, rather than a yard. My grandfather was a regular at Stoke and today I’m meeting my mum’s cousin Terry for an expedition in to the Boothen End.

We’re fortified by several pints of “Peddy” (Marston’s Pedigree) in the The Gardeners Retreat, accompanied by City slickers Keith (a closet Port Vale fan) Darren, Mark, and 78-year-old Arsenal turned Stoke fan Vinny. The landlord Ken’s appears to be their version of Carol; they seem quite upset that at the bar he was sociable instead of his usual irascible self. Everyone is mystified why Tuncay can’t get in the side, although they say Etherington gets kicked out of games just like he did for us.

Nigel texts to say that he’s also in Staffordshire at Burton versus Barnet checking out the great Gary Breen in the Barnet defence.

Then it’s a walk down the canal past local sights such as the Incinerator Plant and on to the Britannia, built on the site of an old coal mine.

It’s a pleasure to be in a ground with a proper old-style atmosphere, and the choruses of Delilah and When the Reds go Marching In are certainly intimidating. There’s a bloke in front of us who says long rambling sentences in a thick Potteries accent and I can’t understand a word so I just nod a lot and try not to sound like a soft cockney bastard.

After 10 minutes we’re one down. Fuller backheels it into the path of Matty Etherington (remember him?) and Faubert brings him down for a penalty. It’s a rash challenge and another sign that Faubert is not a natural defender, Beattie pummels the ball into the roof of the net. A winger at right back? Why why why Clarke and Zola?

But slowly we come back into it. Upson receives a kick in the head fro Shawcross but recovers after treatment for a cut. Cole wins a corner and Sorenson hesitates and the unmarked Upson heads home.

The Stoke lads graciously admit that we’re the better team. We’re passing it around very nicely in midfield. Kovac looks very good against Stoke, getting his foot in and playing it simple to his fellow blonde Behrami. With Noble and Collison in support we’re putting together all the passing against the likes of the pedestrian Delap. But it’s no use if we can’t get the ball in the net.

After the break we continue to pass them to death. Diamanti wins a couple of free kicks and has a couple of speculative shots but you still wonder if he’s a show pony or a proper support striker. There are glimpses of ability but not enough to truly support Cole. A fine pass from Behrami puts Cole in on goal but the impressive Shawcross makes a fantastic saving tackle.

But sure enough it’s the direct approach that produces results after 68 minutes. Upson lunges for the ball and goes to ground as Fuller waltzes round him and down the right. Green parries the flying Potter’s shot but Beattie shows more desire than Faubert to get the ball and pokes it into the net, before celebrating in front of us by kicking the advertising hoardings.

“You can stick your fucking bubbles up your arse!” chorus the Stoke fans.

We continue to pass it around and Zola brings on Hines and Stanislas. It’s a great contest between Cole and Shawcross and generally Tomkins has played well at the back. As we’re about to pump a free kick into their box Upson is whacked in the face by Huth. All the officials miss what should have been a red card and a penalty.

Fuller makes another fine run down the right, beating Tomkins but crossing inaccurately. Franco comes on for a couple of minutes but we never really threaten to break down the door and forgive me Delilah, I just couldn't take any more.

I’m back at Euston by 7.20, which is almost quicker than going to WHU. Nigel texts to say that Breen’s Barnet have lost 2-0 and it should have been five. Matt texts to say not to worry we won't be playing Stoke next season unless we get them in the Cup.

So it’s another defeat and a rubbish start to the season. Fine points and second from bottom. But in some way’s today’s performance was encouraging in that we were the better footballing side and deserved a draw.

As Zola said afterwards, it was similar last season when we kept believing in the way we played and then the wins came. Yet it’s worrying that Upson is starting to make the odd mistake and we also need a defensively minded right-back and Diamanti or Hines to come good. But one day our passing game is going to come off and we’ll surely give someone a pasting. Although probably not Arsenal, our next opponents

Never mind the buzz stops

West Ham striker attacked by bees… And a swarm welcome to Guillermo Franco, who played in Mexico's 4-1 won against El Salvador. The match was for halted for ten minutes after a swarm of bees took up residence in the El Salvador goal. Amazingly he avoided injury, almost a shame as it would have ranked right up there in the annals of bizarre Hammers injuries with Devonshire Flu and Steve Lomas injuring himself walking round Disneyland... Franco must pray we don't get drawn against the Bees or the Hornets in the Cup... Jest beehive, will ya.

Wizard of Oz?

Never thought I'd write this, but the person we're missing most is Lucas Neill. Maybe not the greatest defender ever, but he shouted a lot on the pitch and organised the rest of the defence. And if he couldn't tackle someone he'd stop them by any means necessary, giving away about three penalties a game that the refs never saw.

Plus he had that Aussie will to win. Faubert has done OK, but you sense he's too busy overlapping or thinking about Madam Bovary to dominate the defence. Yes, Neill was a greedy bastard wanting his 70k a week. But if we had any money, Lucas is one person we should have kept... instead he's now in Everton reserves.

Only Fools and Horses

Today's Mirror claims David Sullivan wants to buy us for a knock-down price as we owe "£45m to several different banks", "£19m to Sheffield United" and "£15m to other clubs" after signing players, and "the Hammers are also running at a loss of £20m this year after recording an operating loss of £33.6m for the financial year ending May 2008".

On the plus side we'd get Karren Brady, star of The Apprentice, and Sullivan does have a Chigwelll gaff with statues on the lawn, columns and thick carpets. And an endless supply of Daily Sport lovelies to keep Frank McAvennie happy...

Drawing drawing West Ham

West Ham 2 Fulham 2

It’s surely the first time “deforestation” has ever been mentioned in Ken’s Cafe. But it impresses my green missus. The two blokes on the table next to us are discussing carbon footprints and how it’s deforestation that is the real contributor to climate change.

“See I told you it was a ferment of intellectual debate in Ken’s before home games…” Blimey. There are geezers here who’ve seen The Age of Stupid without thinking it’s a movie about West Ham.

Our daughters Lola and Nell tuck into eggs chips and beans with salt and ketchup and white bread, while Nicola dreams of pumpkin seed salad. Nicola is berated by Carol for not buying her programme at the counter while I’m loudly denounced a “cheapskate” after asking for tap water to fill up our water bottle. I try to argue that we are saving plastic and carbon by refusing to buy bottled water, but Carol remains unconvinced.

Big Joe arrives in his tweed racing jacket, TV star Phill Jupitus pops in and Michelle, sister of Steve Rapport (ex North Bank Norman) discusses his progress with his San Francisco eco-home. By the end of lunch I’ve convinced Nicola that Ken’s is the hottest literary salon in London, the haunt of the modern Bloomsbury Set. Apart from when we play Millwall.

In the first half we play quite well. The passing is lively and we take a deserved lead when Faubert is hacked down by Hangerland. Diamanti whips in a wicked free kick and Carlton Cole outjumps the huge Hangerland to head into the top corner.

Tomkins then misses the target with a free header from Diamanti’s corner and Hines curls a shot just wide. Johnson pulls his shot wide when through for Fulham, but we appear to be in control after Dikgacoi is sent off for an off-the-ball bout of slapping and handbags with Scott Parker. Even West Ham will beat ten men, won’t they?

Maybe it’s the throaty-voiced US wrestler they bring on at half time to do some whooping for the Hammers that upsets the lads. We’re 30 seconds into the second half when Upson wrestles Kamara to the ground in the box and it’s a penalty for Fulham. Murphy scores and the scattered outpost of Fulham fans begin to sing “We’re by the far the greatest team the world has ever seen!” Which isn’t strictly true.

Our belief goes and simple passes go astray. Ten minute later Green flaps at a Fulham corner and misses, leaving Gera to prod home. There’s only one ‘F’ in Fulham.

Upson is looking unfit after his layoff as he fluffs a couple more challenges, while Ilunga looks like he’s carrying an injury too and is failing to overlap with his customary verve. Noble is jaded, Jiminez peripheral, Hines has disappeared and Diamanti tries too many tricks. Fulham appear to be playing against ten men.

“Fulham are poopsicles!” chants eight-year-old Nell. Her mum tries to convince her to adopt a more sporting outlook. Although in her defence, Fulham clearly are poopsicles.

Nell is hiding her head inside her hood and 11-year-old Lola asks “Why do they always attack from the wrong place” as we pump high balls towards towering defenders, always try one pass too many and never get to the byline.

Lisa, the vicar’s daughter in Matt’s seat is tempted to start swearing. Fraser maintains a Zen-like detachment through chanting an internal mantra of TV and Satellite Week listings.

“There’s too much passing… It’s too technical and not enough emotion,” suggests Nicola. “And why do they never attack on the left?” Sure enough Zola agrees with her and brings on Stanislas on the left and Behrami to beef up the midfield.

The changes make a difference. Behrami gives us some energy in midfield while Junior Stanislas is an outlet on the left and isn’t scared to shoot.

“If we could clone 11 Behramis we’d be fine,” suggests Lisa.

But it seems inevitable we’re going to lose as the part-timers head for the tube. I tell the kids to have faith, it’s never over until the fat bloke leaves, and others things I don’t really believe.

Four minutes of injury time. Come on you Irons! Stanislas shoots on the left, the ball takes a crazy deflection and veers into the net. Yes! It’s 2-2, but being West Ham we contrive to nearly ruin my kids' Academy day out again. Green rushes several acres out of his goal, loses the ball and loss the ball to Eddie Johnson, who looks certain to score, but ably held up by Upson before prodding lamely wide. Phew.

“Why was Robert Green trying to play on the pitch?” asks a bemused Nell.

At least we haven’t lost. We’ve played rubbish in the second half, but it’s the sort of game we’d have lost in the Roeder relegation season. I still think we’ll be OK if we keep the team together as the fixtures in the second half of the season are much kinder. Although on this evidence it’s starting to get worrying…

Suicide is painless

Interesting to see that Phil Brown and Hull City's players apparently talked a woman out of committing suicide as she was about to jump off the Humber Bridge.

Let's hope our lads don't ever go for a walk via the River Leato achieve what Phil Brown terms "clarity"… I've been tempted to jump off the Abbey Mills bridge myself, mumbling "Ferdinand, Lampard, Cole, Defoe, Johnson, Carrick…"

Feed the Hare and he will score…

Nice to see Marlon Harewood score his first goal since April 2008 for Newcastle last night. Always had a soft spot for Marlon since the FA Cup semi-final winner against Boro and for the fact he described himself as "a kitchen fitter" when playing away and caught by the News of the World…