Overly long writings about West Ham United FC. This is the kind of thing you might like, if you like this kind of thing.
Showing posts with label The End. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The End. Show all posts

Monday, February 05, 2018

The Sound and The Fury

"What happened to ya?
We were one of a kind"
- Ian Brown, "What Happened to Ya? Pt 1"

This article started life as a match report of the game between West Ham and Crystal Palace. That was in January when life was simple and we were a top half team. Then circumstance took over and it has morphed somewhat. Of course, things were different back then. West Ham wasn't a racist club. People at the club seemed aware that we needed new players. Han Solo was Harrison Ford.

But so much has gone under the bridge that as I tried to write this piece I felt like a man using an umbrella to try and catch a fish; wholly unsuited to the task and unable to keep up. I've been abroad with no access to this account so I couldn't post up this piece, and yet with every passing hour it mattered less because the content was rendered obsolete by further developments. I honestly didn't think a club could dissemble this quickly without Mike Ashley being involved.

And now all we hear is sound, and every where we turn is fury. All of which leads inexorably to one simple question:

What has happened to my club?

What. Has. Happened. To. My. Club?

Perhaps it has always been this way. Maybe when other fans were telling us that we were their second team, they weren't simply saying it because of our helpful tendency to play nice football and at the same time roll over for them. I'm now wondering if that faint praise and those half smiles merely disguised a sense of being thankful that it wasn't them. Not for them the constant threat of humiliation and embarrassment. That was our sole preserve.

It is the lot of football club owners that fans will generally always hate them. Supporters place no limit on our ambition, and demand that owners follow our lead. But they are bound by such inanities as money and overdrafts and cashflows and rules and the realities of trying to keep such febrile businesses afloat. I don't doubt that running a football club properly is a job that demands high levels of skill and competence, perhaps outstripping a regular business because those enterprises do not come under such high levels of public scrutiny over every single decision they take.



Next Level

But is anyone still labouring under the misapprehension that West Ham is a well run football club? Surely even those who refuse to see anything wrong with our leadership so long as they make the crossed Hammers can't call me a Quisling for suggesting that they could be doing their basic tasks a little better than they currently are?

It is February and with the team bereft of fit players due to our annual injury crisis, the Board have allowed five players to leave the squad and brought just two in. They have made our squad smaller at a time when our Premier League place is not remotely secure and when our medical staff appears to be unable to stem the constant flow of injured players. And yet all of that garden variety incompetence doesn't even make the top three things they fucked up most on deadline day.

No, instead we have other crises to manage, namely the insinuation from our (newly minted) Head of Transfers, Tony Henry, that we no longer wished to purchase African players and then the revelation that Leicester will simply not do business with us due to some inane public comments from Karren Brady in her Sun column.

The beauty of this is that at the same time Henry was allegedly emailing out this "club policy" about African players to agents, the deal that was scuppered with Leicester was for the Algerian forward, Islam Slimani. We apparently can't even be racist properly.

And so it came to pass that West Ham fans must once again ponder why our club should always be so different. All fans love to feel they are hard done by, but telling people you support West Ham nowadays invokes an involuntary sense of sympathy from fellow supporters. They might not know the intimate details - the failure to qualify for the League Cup semi final because we forgot a player was cup tied, the requirement to pay Sheffield United £20m for the Tevez saga despite their being no legal grounds for it, the record signings who get injured on debut, the homesick player from Oxford, the preternatural gift for identifying soon to be bankrupt sponsors - but in a way, that doesn't matter. In the style of the Trump White House, it has ceased to be relevant what the drama is so long as there is some drama to distract fans.

We have been overwhelmed by a cavalcade of uselessness.

***

"We got to pump the stuff to make us tough,
From the heart"
- Public Enemy, "Fight the Power"

Before all of this happened we actually took a break from causing incredulity and played a game of football. That seems like a quaint nod to a bygone era now, like MTV playing a music clip or Government ministers being competent, and yet it does actually remain the primary activity of West Ham United. 

Crystal Palace were in town and they arrived with a fair wind behind them. Since Roy Hodgson took over, they have been surging, with their results finally catching up to the underlying analytics which have suggested all season that they were a good team underperforming. 

With the squad decimated, Moyes was forced to improvise and so we saw Pablo Zabaleta deployed into midfield and new signing Joao Mario given licence to roam widely in support of the lone striker, Chicharito, and both did all we could have asked of them. Historically the Mexican has been incapable of performing that role but here he battled and worked and generally did everything that he could to hold back the tide. Behind him Mark Noble and Cheikhou Kouyate stepped manfully into the breach and combined with Zabaleta to take the fight to the visitors, and if we were somewhat fortunate to be on level terms at half time, that engine room drove us forward to a surprisingly progressive second half display. 


Legend

I have latched on to Noble somewhat on recent weeks, as a kind of emotional life raft in the roiling sea of being a West Ham supporter. Because the owners are so rarely incapable of projecting a positive image of our club, we are forced to look elsewhere for things to be proud about and Noble couldn't be making me prouder right now. 

Forget the longevity and the fact he is a Hammers fan, because those things are nice but they aren't all that relevant. Instead focus on the way he cares. Focus on how he carries himself. Focus on how he represents our club on and off the pitch. As a footballer Noble is having his own resurgence as his experience and ever excellent technical ability allows him to continue controlling games from the middle of the park. But off the pitch he is also everything that this club is supposed to be. He is devoted to his community and an exemplar of how to treat others and give something back to the people who make up West Ham United, whether it's through his soccer schools or his housing project or just the simple ability to talk about football fans with a scintilla of empathy. 

At a moment when those who lead our club off the pitch routinely make me ashamed, Noble and his footballing brothers have found a way to restore my faith in the badge by what they do between the lines (you're probably correctly guessing here that this bit was written pre-Brighton). Here they were, battered and tired and with their numbers depleted by boardroom incompetence and yet they more than matched a tough opponent. It hasn't always been the case, but when you take a step back and view this match as dispassionately as possible, our players did us proud. 

Supporting Noble was Kouyate, who suffered a nasty head injury early on and returned as the second coming of Ian Bishop. He suddenly found a passing range, and began dominating the game in a way I haven't seen him do before. His astute pass found Chicharito just before half time, from which he and Mario fashioned a chance which was only interrupted by a James Tomkins foul. 

Penalty. Noble. You knew he wouldn't let us down. 

In the context of what was to later be revealed, it was stirring to see the return of Kouyate to his best form. We need his rangy athleticism and ability to, well, cause mayhem from central midfield in the absence of our more artisanal forwards. How ironic that our best ever African player should be so instrumental in leading the team to this crucial point. 

Mario looked lost to start but grew into a physical and frenetic game that saw possession routinely coughed up by both sides with startling frequency. The Portuguese conjured a lovely pass to free Chicharito for the penalty and generally looked the kind of quick witted, intelligent footballer who will link beautifully with Manuel Lanzini and Marko Arnautovic if they are ever all fit at the same time. I also enjoyed that his first touch involved him dribbling straight out of play while Moyes looked on, bemused. Levity amid the gloom. 

But the true calling card of Moyesian football seems to be the ability to construct a rock solid defence from the softest of materials. Here he was shorn of yet more bodies and he merely shrugged and rearranged the deckchairs to keep the Titanic afloat. So Aaron Cresswell went back out wide and reminded us all that he crosses with the consistency of a chicken on a High Street, and in came eighteen year old Declan Rice to the middle of the back three and nobody really batted an eyelid. Palace helped us out there somewhat, by channelling almost all their attacking play through the electric Wilfried Zaha. The Ivorian is one of those players who makes you inch forward involuntarily when he gets the ball, even as you're encouraging Sam Byram to kick him. And to be fair, Byram did, repeatedly. 

But generally we swarmed Zaha when he got the ball and on the one occasion that Palace didn't go through him, Andros Townsend surged to the byeline and crossed for Christian Benteke to head the opening goal. Had they done this a little more often we might have had a tougher evening, but as it was the visitors were indebted to Wayne Hennessey for a terrific save from a second half Chicharito header to keep things level. A point was, all things considered, a pretty fair result.

And then we went to Brighton, and I didn't see that game because I was overseas and sometimes you just have to be grateful that the Universe has been kind to you.  

***

"You thought I was cheap, you were the sale of the century, 
Creased ourselves up on the way down"
- Sleeper, "Sale of the Century"


And so as we all drifted away through the thin sheen of rain that covered the stadium like mist, the talk turned to the transfer deadline. They've got to do something, we thought. Kudos to Moyes and the boys for that performance, we all thought, but now they need help. 

Of course, I should say that such thoughts go against the grain for me. I don't like David Sullivan buying anyone because he doesn't understand football, but I particularly don't like him buying anybody in January because he doesn't seem to understand footballing economics either. So, after a history that includes Mido, Benni McCarthy, Robert Snodgrass and Nene, and public commentary from both Sullivan and Brady that they considered these transfers as failures, it felt natural that we should want the club to sit this window out. After all, they couldn't make any stupid decisions if they didn't make any decisions. 

But the other hallmark of the club in recent years has been the chronic failure to keep our playing staff fit. Whatever the club is doing in this regard is not working and it tends to have an overwhelmingly negative impact on the handwritten scrawl on the back of a lottery ticket that our owners laughably call our business plan. 

Not only do we drop points due to the weakened sides we constantly have to field, but it has caused the Board to act rashly in trying to plug the gaps. Hence they spent £10m of this summer's budget on Snodgrass when they really only needed him for a few games to cover a player shortage last January, and now they can't even recall him from Aston Villa to do the same this year. 


A poor signing, treated poorly

But what was different last year was the context of our league position and the fact that we were just about to emerge from our injury crisis. We enjoyed a brief revival to lift us up the table and by the time that Fonte and Snodgrass arrived it was already pretty evident that we were not going to be relegated. Thank God for Sunderland. 

But this year is different, with a whole glut of similar teams all scrabbling around for the same few points, and our playing resources likely to be paper thin for a while yet. As it happens, I think Moyes gives us an advantage over those other teams, but our injuries have reduced his options to the point that we couldn't name a full substitutes bench at Huddersfield. This was not a window in which to suddenly decide to keep our powder dry, and such inertia could prove fatal. Sullivan has taken a huge risk. 

And so it was that we came limping into the deadline having failed to do anything beyond add Joao Mario on a loan and Jordan Hugill from Preston North End. I have no issue with the purchase of Hugill, particularly as he has come from Preston and will have been properly scouted by Moyes and Alan Irvine as a result. In a time when English clubs are awash with money, and previously unheralded overseas leagues are churning out good players at higher rates than ever, it is entirely possible that divisions like the Championship and the Scottish Premier League are once again the best place to get value for money. And lest we forget, Cresswell, Michail Antonio and Dele Alli all came from somewhere.

Hugill is perhaps a little older than we might like, at twenty five, but he should know his own game and has already demonstrated a considerable amount of fortitude in rising from the Glen Hoddle Academy to the Premier League. In a team with our problems, I see no issue with adding a player prepared to run himself into the ground, and if he fails, then he is young enough to be resold in a year or two for some sort of return. He is, in that sense, the very antithesis of Benni McCarthy.


Tattoo sleeve, beaming smile. You'll do, son, welcome aboard

The problem with the signing is not with the player but the context. With Diafra Sakho finally gone, and scoring against PSG immediately, we were already light up front. Thus the sale of Andre Ayew for £18m was baffling on a number of levels. 

Ayew is, by my estimation, the only footballer under thirty whose value has dropped in the last two years. At a time when Moussa Sissoko costs £30m and £20m is an opening offer for pretty much every Premier League player, we are once more selling our players into a totally different market then we buy from. This is the problem when we feel the need to offer such astronomical wages to attract players to West Ham in the first place. While the owners might think that having the thirteenth largest wage bill in Europe is a sign of ambition, most others see it as a sign of chronic inefficiency and it makes players very hard to shift without reducing their transfer fees drastically. We have fallen into the age old trap of paying players for what they have done elsewhere rather than what they will do for us. Say what you will about Hugill, he will earn his money through his performances in claret and blue. Ask yourself if that could really be said about Joe Hart. 

So off went Ayew, Sakho, and Toni Martinez and if anything happens to Chicharito on Saturday then we go to Liverpool with our line being led by Preston's striker. It's a curious time to be alive, no?

***

"How could it ever come to pass? She'll be the first, she'll be the last
To describe the way I feel"
- The Stone Roses, "She Bangs The Drums"

All of which is skirting around the main issue, which can be simply laid out in the question I asked above, namely "What the hell is happening to my club?"

Rumours have swirled around for days now about why we are losing players when we need to add them and why we would be apparently offering ludicrously low amounts to try and pry players away. Those rumours range from the owners asset stripping in preparation for a sale to both HMRC and criminal investigations into our transfers, via a massive cashflow issue to straight up incompetence - the latter still being my best guess. 

I understand that transfers are complex and hard to get done, but so are brain surgeries and you don't get to have a go at them because you bought a private hospital. Fans are furious, and while that might not always have a basis in rational thought, I happen to agree that if nothing else, we deserve better than we are currently getting. We shouldn't kid ourselves that our reputation was glittering when they took over, but we were promised that with Karren Brady and her ultra professional stewardship we could look forward to a rehabilitation of our public image. 

Instead, they have stumbled from crisis to crisis, stopped off to get into a slanging match with Sporting Lisbon, fallen out with their own players, while slating some we haven't even bought and topped all that by alienating the entire taxpaying population of the country. It might wind us all up, but Jack Sullivan's Twitter account is pretty small beer. 


Goodbye


On March 10th the Real West Ham Fans Group are planning to march on the Club, and while I don't really agree with the action I understand it wholly. The burning sense of frustration that is searing through the West Ham support has been grossly underestimated by those in the boardroom. "Wait until the next transfer window" might suffice for the apparently tepid self examinations that pass for Board meetings but that is no comfort to fans driving back from Wigan into a howling gale and wondering why they just surrendered their Saturday for a club that can't help but give off the signal that it despises them.

And now.

Now somehow we have plumbed new depths. Tony Henry's comments made his position untenable. He may have been stitched up by the Mail, the last bastion of anti-racism, but his apparent confusion about why his comments were a problem didn't show that he wasn't being racist, but instead showed that he didn't understand how he was being racist. That's not the same thing. Our club, the first English top flight team to have three black players, does not need such people in it's employ. 

And what it all highlights is the total shambles that is our corporate governance. Henry doesn't want African players but we still try and loan Slimani on deadline day. He doesn't think Russian players settle very well in England and still we try to get Fyodor Smolov until the player calls it off because he thinks his club are being lowballed. 

Best of all is Henry's concern about how well Italian players adapt when our player of the season so far is literally an Italian of African descent. When Cheikhou Kouyate posts an Instagram picture with the caption "African and Proud" then the club must surely understand that this is beyond their agency to stage manage. You don't get to tell people how they feel. Henry is gone, but significant questions remain. 


Ade Coker and Clyde Best (and Clive Charles). Heroes - let's learn our own history

And as an aside, perhaps if the club properly celebrated men like Clyde Best, Ade Coker and Clive Charles a little more obviously, instead of constantly regaling us with tales of a team who finished third, then their employees and fans might be a little more attuned to the relevance of racism in our history. And yes, I realise being black is not the same as being African, but I think we're in the same territory here.

Overriding all of that is the concern about who else knew about Henry's "policy" and why he was talking to the press without apparent supervision. As the lads at Hammers Chat pointed out, Sullivan has been keen to play up links to Henry in the past:


That's vague enough to allow Sullivan to say he was unaware, but if he was then it really doesn't reflect well on a structure that can allow such activity from a senior employee to go unnoticed. This, of course, is the problem with an owner who only wants association with successful transfers. There is a huge hole where a proper, functioning Sporting Director or Director of Football would sit. And you all know where I'm going with that. 

As for Karren Brady and her inane column in The Sun, I remain confused as to why this is even a thing. Sullivan's assertion that he would have to pay her more if he didn't let her go off and write for Murdoch, shill for Alan Sugar, help out Philip Green and sit in the House of Lord's doesn't really hold up to scrutiny when she's getting £900,000 a year from us. 

Either way, our Karren sure can pick her business associates. 

I wonder what Brady's own position would be if a West Ham employee cost the club a transfer due to an artless thought posted online or in a newspaper. I suspect they'd be gone before they could yell "what about slapping women?" through the window. 

I've defended Brady many times because I think she is criticised primarily by a lot of West Ham because she is a woman, and for no other reason. In this case, she cannot be defended. Her desire for fame seems to outstrip her desire to do a good job for us. That's a problem. 

Which brings us back to that march by the Real West Ham Fans group. As I mentioned, I don't particularly agree with this initial course of action, because it feels like dropping a nuclear bomb as your opening gambit, but that's up to them. I also can't help but concede that they are probably right to think this is the best way to motivate change. But it's a specific problem for the board now. They are toxic and their constant failures are magnified by the media storm they insist on creating around the club. The problem when you're so desperate for attention is that you don't get to duck out when that attention is negative. Where we once went for the Cearns Family and Terry Brown, now it is the current owners, and once that particular rock starts rolling it will be nearly impossible to stop. 

I don't want to reach the position where the owners and their families are being abused at games, but it's also possible to see why fans don't feel they have any choice but forceful protest. All of the purported fan engagement ideas of the last few months have led nowhere meaningful. The club is still run disastrously, and we are regressing at an alarming rate. A change has to come. It has to.

I would call once again for the owners to step back and disappear from the spotlight. Hire a Director of Football and give that person carte blanche to modernise the Club. Send the Sullivan boys to German clubs where they can learn their trade at the cutting edge, and not by serving coffee in our club cafe, if it truly is the intention that they are going to one day run this club.

Have Karren Brady reduce her extra curricular efforts and focus her energies on West Ham as a community enterprise. Let's see her turn those formidable talents that we hear so much about and see so little of, to endeavours that matter to fans - Isla's Fight would be an easy cause to pick up and gain ground with fans, so too the long term funding for the Supporters Club, or engaging with WHUISA on all sorts of fan matters. She might argue that she does that already and I might argue that I wouldn't know because I only ever hear about her doing things that are nothing to do with my club.

And that, after all, is what this is all about. This club will endure because it always has, but I find it hard to grasp how badly our owners are currently letting us down. When a player can walk over to the travelling support after a defeat at a promoted club and ask where the money has gone, you know things are bad. The manager deserves scrutiny too, of course, especially as we seem incapable of defending against weaker sides, but the backdrop to all of this seems to be a boardroom culture of incompetence that is suffocating all else inside the club.

So, back to my question, because we are running out of time to get a satisfactory answer. 

What is happening to my club?

Monday, January 29, 2018

Wigan 2 - 0 West Ham (Or The Fall of the House of Sullivan)

"You must leave now, take what you need, you think will last
But whatever you wish to keep, you better grab it fast"
- Bob Dylan, "It's All Over Now Baby Blue"

Ostensibly this is supposed to be a match report about a game that took place between Wigan Athletic and West Ham United in the Fourth Round of the FA Cup. For any of you who had the good fortune not to see this match, I want you to have in mind the image of a penguin and a great white shark fighting. Who do you think would win that particular match up?

Your first thought would be the shark, naturally, given all of his inbuilt advantages and everything that your experience tells you about the combatants, except that you forgot to ask me where the fight was taking place. And when I tell you it's taking place on land you'll understand why the shark had no ability to hurt the penguin, much less defeat him. Eventually the shark just...died.

And now you understand what happened to West Ham at Wigan. We just...died.



When is enough enough?

I intend no disrespect to Wigan when I say that, by the way, as they not only won this game, but won it comfortably. The 2-0 margin of victory could have been more, and while they did benefit from as bad a penalty decision as you'll ever see, and from Arthur Masuaku losing control of his cerebrum, they thoroughly deserved to win. 

The tone was set before the game when our latest injury crisis meant that Wigan were favourites with most bookies. And the sad truth is that with them flying high in League One and us still waist deep in the relegation mire, it's entirely possible that we might be in the same division next year.

But that's not what we were faced with here. Instead this was a game against a team two leagues below us and whose annual wage bill will be less than what we pay Andy Carroll to put together his equivalent of the Zagat guide for London hospitals. There is no situation in which we should ever be the underdogs for this fixture and yet there was a sense of impending doom about this from the moment the team had to leave the Bournemouth game via MEDEVAC. 


I would honestly rather we bought one of these than Daniel Sturridge

And it's because of that sense of inevitability that something snapped inside me when I watched this shit unfold. I've been somewhat prepared to defend the ownership of David Gold and David Sullivan because I felt that their greatest failing was not one of avarice, malevolence or indifference but a misplaced sense of their own competence. If they would just get out of the way and let qualified people make the decisions, I'd be fine with them as owners. But here we are, eight years from their purchase of the club and they have steadfastly refused to do that. So perhaps it is time to ask ourselves - how much has really changed? When is enough enough?

Financially there is no doubt that the club is an awful lot healthier than it was back then when we were being run by the creditors of our former Icelandic owners, and the players had to wash their own kit, but as I've mentioned several times before, nobody supports a balance sheet. 

So having all this extra money might be the result of some shrewd financial management, and razor sharp economic brilliance or maybe it's the result of grabbing a seat at the table when the astronomical TV deals started dropping right in the middle of the central trough. But either way, having all that money hasn't actually made us any better. We continue to be the same as we've always been; a well supported side who can never manage to arrange all of our ducks in a row at the same time to enable us to achieve anything. So when our youth system is good our transfer policy will let us down. And when our first team is decent the squad will be found wanting. And so it goes until our sights are gradually lowered all the way down to be fixed on survival and little else. 

But here's the thing. You can do that when you take over a club if that is a reasonable expectation for fans. Dare I say it, if you take over Swansea or Bournemouth, with their small fanbases and stadiums and their low starting point, then dragging them to the lower echelons of the Premier League is a significant achievement. But if you take over West Ham in a relegation struggle and relegate them and then get them promoted and then move stadium and change the club badge and charge us more than fans at Manchester City to watch the team, then you'd damn sure better have your sights set higher than being Bournemouth. 

So, when is enough enough?

Right. Fucking. Now. 

***

"What are we waiting for? 
Tell me, what are waiting for?"
- Matthew and Me, "Figure"

Here are our league finishes in the eight seasons prior to Gold and Sullivan taking over:

2001-02 : 7th
2002-03: 18th (R)
2003-04: 4th Championship 
2004-05: 6th Championship (P)
2005-06: 9th
2006-07: 15th
2007-08: 10th
2008-09: 9th

and since:

2009-10: 17th
2010-11: 20th (R)
2011-12: 3rd Championship (P)
2012-13: 10th
2013-14: 13th
2014-15: 12th
2015-16: 7th
2016-17: 11th

If you look closely you can probably see a difference between these periods in time, namely that the former features four top half finishes and a typically Shakespearean relegation. Not that I'm going to eulogise over the ownership of either Terry Brown or Eggert Magnusson but that's kind of the point isn't it? When our current owners arrived, they were supposed to be bringing the new broom that swept all this inconsistency and rank amateurism aside and yet as Will Grigg headed in a goal here after just seven minutes, I genuinely found myself wondering whether anything about my club has changed for the better in the last eight years. 

True, we had that magical season in 2015-16 when the Boleyn got the fitting send off she deserved, as we gloriously failed to make the Champions League. Nothing screams West Ham quite like the sense of a tantalising missed opportunity, after all. But what else have we had beyond a litany of failed promises to move the club forward, a traumatic and botched stadium move and the almost immediate failure of any plan implemented to improve the team?

Those season tickets that cost the same as the Etihad don't come with quite the same cast iron guarantee of entertainment or success do they? And while I understand full well the inherent unfairness of the league we play in, I am also fully cognisant that we have spent these eight seasons fighting with one hand behind our back, such is the amateurish leadership and the total lack of an overall plan for this club. 


Will Grigg's on fire, Joe Hart's not actually off the ground

Thus it was that Wigan took a deserved lead, and then played better football than us and nullified us so thoroughly that we finished this game without registering a shot on goal. And behind Joe Hart's goal stood four thousand West Ham fans, who were forced to watch as their side offered nothing even as noteworthy as a decent tackle as we exited as meekly and quietly as David Walliams at a male only charity gala.

And this is the crux of everything. I didn't even think we should have played a team this strong at Wigan. With our league position so precarious and our injury list so long, I simply didn't think we could afford the risk, with Palace to follow just 72 hours later. But whether you feel that we should prioritise the FA Cup or not - and I accept that many disagree with my view - it is absolutely unforgivable that we are forced to make that distinction in the first place.

How can it be that a club this wealthy, with these resources and ludicrously unfair advantages over the likes of Wigan can be reduced to scrambling around like this to field a team? And come to think of it, how can it be that even after we have to scratch about we can still field a starting eleven with 247 international caps and look like a team of people who won a charity auction to play this game?

In the end we neither went for it nor gave up on the tie. We played the same guys who have been playing every fixtures for weeks (Ogbonna, Obiang and Masuaku) and supplemented them with those vaunted youth prospects who spent ninety minutes proving that just because fans say "there must be someone decent in the youth setup" doesn't make it true. 

And now Obiang is probably done for the season and Masuaku is deservedly banned for six games for the despicable act of spitting at an opponent and our list of absentees continues to lengthen. And we're out of the Cup, with a tangibly negative effect on our league season. To those who believed that we could attack the FA Cup with no impact on the league campaign, that fantasy has now been well and truly shattered. 

But whatever your position on this game as a fan, that's all just hot air. It doesn't matter. We don't actually impact anything. This is a professional football team with the thirteenth highest wage bill in Europe and as fans we are entitled - yes ENTITLED - to expect our team to be competitive against anyone, let alone a team with a quarter of our resources. 

So how can we possibly be so poorly run that we are forced to shelve games against teams two divisions below us because we can't compete with them? Why is our squad so badly constructed that this team was the best we could muster here? Why is our fitness record so bad that we once again have a crisis where we struggle to name a fit eleven players? Why is our wage bill so huge that we can't comfortably add players without first needing to ship some out? Why does our Academy fail to produce any first team players, while our local neighbours are selling theirs for £20m? Why is our manager once again being undermined by a media whispering campaign as well placed leaks start to lay the blame for the lack of transfer activity at his door? And most pertinently of all, why are the people who have presided over all of this for eight years still the ones who are making the decisions that keep this whole clown car on the road? 

I am done. I am so done. In fact I am so done that I have now started talking like an YouTube food vlogger. Give me quinoa over the need to play Quina, I suppose. 

This can't go on. I can't take another transfer window that has no purpose beyond fixing the mistakes of the previous one. I can't take the slow undermining of another manager from a Board who are desperate to hire an expensive, big name coach and yet fail to understand that it is they who might be the single biggest barrier to hiring such a person. I can't take another Karren Brady column in The Sun that further embarrasses the club with needless, unwanted commentary on our affairs. I can't take any more nepotism. I can't take it. I can't.

So, when is enough enough?

Right. Fucking. Now.

***

"It's been a long, a long time coming
But I know a change gonna come, oh yes it will"
- Sam Cooke, "A Change is Gonna Come"

The obvious answer to all of my questions in this piece is straightforward. Why all these things are happening is because the club is not being run properly and the people responsible aren't going to fire themselves. There is no obvious decision making structure, and so the owners, the chief scout, the manager and apparently the owner's sons all participate in the process. I have argued many, many times for a Director of Football and while I fear I may be getting tedious in my repetition, I would like to think that you will all agree that there are warranted grounds for such circular arguments. 

This current transfer window is a perfect example of our failure of process. A manager who isn't guaranteed to be here in six months is assessing players with a mindset entirely consistent with that short term timeframe. At the same time, an owner who swears he isn't involved with transfers unless they are successful has released a statement saying that he is working "night and day" with the manager to bring in new players. And all the while, it's screamingly obvious that what the club needs is someone to hit the reset button. We need younger players. We need fitter players. We need cheaper players. We need better players. And this structure hasn't been able to identify them with any consistency for years.

For example, how many injury crises is too many before we stop blaming it on bad luck and start wondering about other factors? What about that dirt cheap training ground that doesn't have any indoor facilities? How about Gary Lewin being recruited from Arsenal with much fanfare about the fact he was a West Ham fan, and far less noise about the chronic hamstring injuries Arsenal had dealt with for years? Or indeed how many players with poor injury records did we have to buy before acknowledging that perhaps it was unrealistic to expect them to suddenly transform their bodies after two weeks in a rubbish bin filled with ice, in Rush Green?


Andy has always been good on crosses

And if you think that I'm reacting rather exaggeratedly to a few injuries, perhaps it would be worth revisiting what some of our previous managers have had to say on the topic:

Alan Curbishley in 2007
Alan Curbishley in 2008
Gianfranco Zola in 2009
Avram Grant in 2010
Sam Allardyce in 2011
Sam Allardyce in 2012 
Sam Allardyce in 2013
Sam Allardyce in 2014
Sam Allardyce in 2015
Slaven Bilic in 2015
Slaven Bilic in 2016
Slaven Bilic in 2017

At this point it boggles my mind that West Ham aren't the biggest spenders on injury prevention and training facilities in Europe. 

And as I watched Josh Cullen struggle to imprint himself on this game, and Reece Oxford regress before my very eyes, and Antonio Martinez look every inch a player destined to play in the lower leagues it brought home starkly how useless our Academy has been for the past decade. I believe in Declan Rice, I think Reece Burke has something and I refuse to give up on Oxford but it shouldn't be this hard. In an age when young players have such huge value because of what you don't have to spend to get them, it says so much that we seem determined to use other clubs to develop our youngsters and then pick them up when they are let go at 19 or 20. 

Once again I must repeat myself - when you are doing things that nobody else in your industry is doing then you are either miles ahead of the competition or miles behind. I'll let you decide which we are. 

***

"Forty eight thousand seats bleats
And roars for my memories of you"
- Alt-J, "Something Good"

By the time that Reece Burke was ludicrously punished for having his hands by his sides when Grigg flicked the ball on to his right arm, the jig was up. Grigg duly scored the penalty to make it 2-0 but so anaemic was our attack that it felt a little bit like they were rubbing it in. Which in itself is like getting mugged by a kid with a water pistol.

By then Masuaku was long gone, having responded to some sort of provocation by spitting. Whatever was said, it's no excuse, as you can't do that, and now we lose him for six games. His bete noir was Nick Powell, the former Manchester United midfielder, who had been the best player on the pitch. Some of that was due to the fact that Pedro Obiang had been stretchered off after a poor tackle from Max Power, which went unpunished and gave an interesting juxtaposition between how football deals with bad tackles by comparison to actions that don't end players seasons but are largely unpalatable.  


Seems reasonable

We later saw new arrival Joao Mario enter the fray, and immediately take up a position out wide in search of some reception so he could call his agent and fire him. From Milan to Wigan and a ten man West Ham side is quite the journey, after all. My initial impression was that he will need to increase the pace of his play by about 300% if he wants to survive, but this wasn't a day for judging newly arrived foreign imports. His time will come again on Tuesday, and one hopes he has the ability to adapt and justify the typically astronomical wages and loan fee that we have shelled out. These are exactly the kinds of cost that fans don't see and don't factor into why we won't have any money to spend in the summer. 

And thus we limp on to Palace and Tuesday and if ever the London Stadium needed to be jumping it's for this one. I can't even really fathom what kind of team we might play, but it will be a tough old slog. And while I apologise for presenting such a bleak and pessimistic H List, I also have to acknowledge that this is truly how I feel about West Ham right now. 

It is time for a change at the top. 

Perhaps not in so drastic a sense as selling up, because calling for that is nonsense unless there are people actively seeking to buy the club, but in terms of decision making and structure. We have surely reached the end of the House of Sullivan. It may not be tomorrow or this year or even this decade, but I've turned that page now. Sullivan is not capable of doing the job he insists upon doing and the time has come to gracefully stand aside. Or at least I'm flexible on the graceful bit but the standing aside is non negotiable, and it's not acceptable either to hand the role to a teenager. 

Up to a point I think he's done some good things but the hubris of taking on an enterprise such as this and repeatedly failing to acknowledge your own shortcomings is simply not acceptable. His greatest crime has been to treat each season as a rehearsal, with a default position that once it all goes wrong it can be fixed in January, and then they'll have another crack in the summer. And with every failed attempt, the game has advanced further without us as we remain stuck in some Nineteen Seventies timewarp where the chairman owned a local van hire company and the manager dealt with the petty cash.

So let me address David Sullivan directly for a moment. 

Nope David, these are real live games and those are real live fans, and the money they shelled out on Saturday was hard earned and they deserved better than to see such a pitiful display. You've had a go, and I don't doubt that you've done your best but this can't carry on. We can't continue to be a patient in need of life saving surgery. Please, for the good for the club - get somebody in who has a track record of delivering the kind of success you purport to want the club to have. Because, and I say this with respect, you have never managed that. You have never qualified for the Champions League, you have never overseen a team that regularly finishes in the top eight and challenges for honours. You have never attracted a top class manager to work for you. You had never overseen a stadium move and that's gone roughly as well as your forays into the world of film making.

West Ham is not a plaything. We deserve better. 

And if a final example is needed then consider the recent President's Ball. That scandal blew up and I didn't think it would be possible for it to be embarrassing for West Ham and yet somehow it was. It turns out that David Sullivan is a patron of that event. And similarly, his teenage son Jack was on the guest list. Let's leave aside for the moment whether Jack should be attending such an event at his age and just focus on the fact that he is the Chairman of West Ham Ladies Football Club. If ever an incident highlighted the nonsense of how we run our club this was it. I don't know if Jack Sullivan took up his invitation, but he was on the guest list, and that alone shows a lack of judgement.

I am so tired of this. Of feeling so endlessly negative about the club because all we ever seem to do is stumble from one crisis to another. I want a plan. I want a vision. I want hope. I want to see a decision I don't understand and be able to think "Let's give them the benefit of the doubt as they know what they're doing" rather than "Christ, what nonsense is this now?".

I don't want this to be so obviously and painfully hilarious.




So, when is enough enough?

Right. Fucking. Now.

Monday, November 06, 2017

West Ham 1 - 4 Liverpool (And Other Ramblings)

"When your heart is black and broken 
And you need a helping hand
When you're so much in love you don't know
Just how much you can stand"
- The Stone Roses, "Ten Storey Love Song" 

***

There is, in Greek mythology, the story of Sisyphus, a man condemned to roll a boulder uphill for eternity due to his trickery and deceitfulness. I don't think we can reasonably ascribe either of those two characteristics to Slaven Bilic, but I think the Croat would identify with the frustration and futility of the punishment. 

Given that Hollywood are gradually rebooting every story ever told by man, I suspect that when they eventually update Sisyphus he will be a Croatian Premier League manager doomed to play in a cursed graveyard every week, with the slowest team ever assembled, and a Chairman determined not to sack him but at the same time, never support him either. He'll be played by Gerard Butler because a thing that happens sometimes is that people pay Gerard Butler to be in films. I do not know why.


Wait, did we just concede from....our own corner?

So let's briefly address this game. 

We were destroyed. 

The thing is, you don't need me to tell you anything about it because you've seen it so many times before. Would you need me to describe for you the plot of a horror movie? Why bother - you know that some of them won't make it out alive, nobody should go into the forest and going downstairs is a bad idea. Well, spoiler alert guys - we went downstairs, in the forest, drunk, lost sight of our chainsaws and only Lanzini made it out alive. 

So this game didn't particularly move me in any way because it doesn't even crack the top 5 of worst home defeats under Bilic. The Board have made it perfectly clear over the last fifteen months that these kinds of results were not a problem for them. It can be dressed up in terms of wanting to support the manager but the reality is that so long as he didn't steer us into a genuine relegation battle, getting beaten 5-1 at home was an acceptable price to pay for mid table mediocrity and another £100m cheque from the Premier League. 

People might scoff at that and think I'm being too harsh on the Board, but what other conclusion is there to be drawn from how long this has been allowed to continue? If you think the image of everyone being hacked apart with a chainsaw is distressing, I should warn you now that I am getting ready to hit you with some STATS once I've finished fleshing out how truly Greater Anglia Rail we were in this game. 

***
"Nobody said it was easy, it's such a shame for us to part
Nobody said it was easy, no one ever said it would be this hard"  
- Coldplay, "The Scientist"
Things didn't start terribly as the East Stand did an excellent job of holding up some claret and blue plastic bags prior to kick off to create a moving tribute for Remembrance Day. I sound like I'm being sarcastic there but I'm not - it was genuinely lovely. 


We weren't totally shit

Sadly, that was the most coordinated move that anyone in a West Ham shirt would manage all day, as we were soon two goals down for the TWENTY SIXTH time under Bilic. We actually started with a slight spring in our step and Lanzini soon set up Andre Ayew to hit the outside of the post. This created a film of optimism around the ground that had all the rigidity of a Fairy Liquid bubble and was soon popped when Liverpool opened the scoring. 

The manner of the goal was a thing to behold as we somehow managed to turn our own corner into a three on one breakaway for the visitors, which ended with Mo Salah easily beating Hart at his near post. My daughters U10 team played a game this morning where they lost by so many that nobody had any idea of the score at the end and I still didn't see any defending as bad as for that goal. 

Here is Aaron Cresswell attempting to repel that particular attack, for anyone who missed it:



We then defended a corner by having all our players close their eyes, hold hands and offer up a prayer to Sauron, and somehow that didn't work either and Liverpool scored again and now every time I see Joe Hart I can only imagine how much he must hate his agent. 

So even as Manuel Lanzini briefly dragged us back into this game with a splendidly taken goal at 2-0 down, and then when we blew all of that up by conceding a third one fucking minute later, I couldn't even muster an angry epithet. This has happened so frequently, with such predictability and regularity that it simply doesn't register anymore. And truthfully I don't believe the Board are that fussed about these games, which in turn bleeds over into the crowd who can't get up for matches that we all know the team can't win, as well all accept that there is nothing in the running of the club which can change that. 

None of which is to say that the players and manager don't care, or didn't try to win but only that if these massive home losses were of any relevance to the decision making at the Club they wouldn't have allowed so many to pile up. I think it's fair to say that right now the Board don't think that we can compete with the Top Six (we can't) and that the gap between them and the rest is so large (it is) that those results can't be a barometer of how well a manager is doing (here we disagree). 

Truth be told, as I saw £35m Salah combining with £34m Mane, £29m Firmino and £35m Oxlade-Chamberlain I found it hard to disagree. Other clubs have managed it, of course, but then again we are not Burnley.

I say again - we are not Burnley, and the Burnley manager isn't going to leave them to come here. Ayew carumba indeed. 

Quite how all of this led to the Board deciding to vote to give Liverpool a greater share of the Premier League television money is a question for another day, but right now we are in the same league as these teams in only one way and it isn't in a playing sense. 

The visitors added another somewhere towards the end, when people in hockey masks and torches appeared and the walls started bleeding, and could have had several more but for Hart and the fact that most of the chances seemed to fall to James Milner. On another day I would probably attempt to describe how Liverpool didn't actually seem to play that well in this game but, you know, 4-1 does send something of a message. 

***
"Numbers is hardly real and they never have feelings 
But you push too hard and even numbers got limits" 
- Mos Def, "Mathematics"
So, about those stats. Let's dig into the records of our time at the London Stadium, which I think we can all agree has unquestionably been built on the only Indian Burial Ground in Britain ((c) @LeBigHouse).

Let's start with our overall league record (I've ignored the Cups as this article is going to struggle to get an 18 rating as it is):


London Stadium Record
Played24
Won9
Drawn4
Lost11
For25
Against41

Before you all lose your shit over that, please remember that this doesn't include any adjustment for the size of our digital screens.

How about goalscoring:


Teams to have scored 4 goals in a game
Manchester City (x2)
Liverpool (x2)
Watford
Arsenal

We're not on this list. Watford are. The athletics were fun in the summer though.


Teams to have score 3 or more goals in a game
West Ham (x3) - Domzale, Crystal Palace, Bolton
Manchester City (x2)
Liverpool (x2)
Southampton
Leicester
Spurs
Brighton

So, to be clear, we have scored three times in a league game at our current ground as many times as Brighton have and fewer times than Liverpool. We are top of this list though, so let it not be said that we have been totally hopeless at our new home.

And lastly, a little look at a particular bugbear of mine, namely our first half performances:

Half Time Record
W2
D12
L10
For5
Against20
0-011

And just to put this little lot into perspective, what this is showing you is that West Ham have had a half time lead at the London Stadium as many times as Liverpool have.

***

"I don't feel bad about letting you go, 
I just feel sad about letting you know"

- Billy Bragg, "A New England"

While those tables might make for worse reading than Andy Carroll's medical records, they do unfairly discount Bilic's first season when we were still at Upton Park, Payet was still here, the sun used to shine and there was nothing wrong with the world. But, the sad truth is that his tenure has to be split into two halves - there and here. The first bit was an amazing glimpse into a brighter world, that now seems like it was about two centuries ago. When I watch video clips of those games I an amazed that they aren't in black and white with visible film breaks.


Who else remembers when we were good?

But no matter how great all of that was, the sands of time continued draining away inexorably and we've all paid for new season tickets, the owner has a new stadium and what have you done for me lately, Slav? And the sad answer to that question is...nothing but oversee decline.

Even the most ardent Bilic fan would have to accept that the team look listless and lacking in structure. I understand the flares of hope that go up when we win at Wembley or play well at Burnley with ten men, but that cannot be enough for a team with sixty thousand fans, the 18th highest turnover in world football and a squad that has so many of the 2014 Fantasy Premier League's top performers.

As I write this, Bilic remains in a job, but by the time you read this that may change. In many ways, I don't see why he is losing his job now given that this defeat was no different to the similarly lame capitulation against the same opponents at the end of last season. But if this was the end, then I will breathe a sigh of relief. There would be some, admittedly faint, sense of comfort that perhaps we might now improve and also for Bilic himself who will no longer have to stand alone on the touchline at the Terrordome, hands on knees, flicking his jacket out behind him in frustration as Mark Noble looks up again to find none of his teammates want the ball off him.

Can it be as simple as Payet being responsible for everything good that happened in 15/16 and once he left that was that? Can a manager who took his tiny country to two European Championships really have been solely reliant upon one player? We'll find out when the inevitable book comes out and Bilic reveals the true horror of what West Ham is really like behind the scenes, but I struggle to believe that. Whatever happens, he has carried himself with dignity in the face of working for people who have used him to mask their own failures.

In the end, the fault lines were too wide and too pronounced and we are now in a highly precarious position, bereft of confidence and with no discernible pattern of play. We're up shit creek without a boat.

But even if Bilic gave us all those two goal deficits he also gave us lots of high points too, and he deserves to be remembered for that. It's a shame that one of those - the Spurs 1-0 victory last May - was enough to convince our hopeless Board to stick with him into the new season. That mystifying decision has now left us adrift, with nothing to attract in any managers of high regard who have so far taken one look at the ageing playing staff, the board room interference and the fact that they will have little chance to reinforce the squad and all suddenly remembered that they have an urgent appointment but will definitely call Mr Sullivan back when they get a minute.

***

"There is a wait so long, you'll never wait so long
Here comes your man"

- The Pixies, "Here Comes Your Man"

So against the backdrop of all this turmoil, one man has emerged confidently into the spotlight.


My defence is how old?

As I write this David Moyes is the odds on favourite to succeed Bilic tomorrow, leaving us all with the thrilling prospect of having Darren Gibson and John O'Shea in the fold come January. There is so much about this which is odd, but not the least of it is that our Board searched the entire globe and decided that Moyes was the answer. And when I say the entire globe I of course mean the contacts list of British managers represented by whatever agent is in favour with Sullivan today. What a stultifying lack of imagination, and what a hospital pass to a manager who will get no honeymoon with a disbelieving fanbase.

Still, Moyes worked wonders at Everton on a mid sized budget, which in turn led to the Manchester United job. That's a significant achievement and whilst he didn't last long, with the benefit of hindsight I'm not sure his tenure was the failure it was deemed at the time. Thereafter he did what so many Brits do and decided to take himself off to Spain, where Real Sociedad were waiting to hammer another nail into his coffin shaped reputation.

Having left La Liga he decided to give up professional football management altogether and instead took over at Sunderland. There he presided over an absolutely shambolic campaign which ended in relegation as Moyes tried his best to reassemble his Everton side of 2009, which might have worked better if any of them still had their own hips.

There are those who would defend Moyes and say that Sunderland are a joke club with no direction, a ludicrous board, an ageing and uninterested playing staff and systemic off field problems that run far deeper than anybody knew. To which I say - yeah, does any of that sound familiar?

However, Sullivan is an apparent long time admirer of the Scot and we know that he has neither the wit, self confidence or ability to pluck a young up and coming manager from overseas or the lower leagues. He prefers the safety of getting a known quantity, meaning that we will forever be subjected to the known quantities of the British manager threshing machine. This same decision making process has delivered us to 18th in the Premier League, which is two places lower than we were when they took over. Ho fucking hum.

But worse than that is the news tonight that Sullivan is now reconsidering his decision in the face of a social media backlash from West Ham fans to the leaked news of Moyes arrival. This is not something that professional organisations do. They ignore the wishes of fans because fans do not have access to the information that would allow them to credibly form those opinions. That might include details of finances, availability of other targets and even things like the health of the candidates. Why on earth would Sullivan be taking into account the views of a crowd who, two weeks ago, were booing the team for smashing aimless long balls at Andy Carroll and then booed any players who declined to do that on Saturday and instead passed it backwards? Why listen to a crowd who were booing Mark Noble for being the only player brave enough to actually get on the ball in the middle of the park?

Fans are fickle, emotional, easily swayed and the last people who should ever be considered when making choices such as this. No other team does it. No other team is so insecure in their decision making processes that they subject it to the whims of Twitter. Indeed I would suggest that the very suggestion of doing so is evidence enough that those people shouldn't be within a million miles of a decision of this importance.

Properly run teams can trust the process of their selection and analysis, and put faith in the talents of the people making the decision, meaning they can ignore public sentiment because they are sure of what they are doing. The West Ham board (correctly) realise this doesn't apply to them, but instead of changing those people, they instead farm the decision out to bloody Facebook, with the seeming aim of blaming the fans if it doesn't come off. What a joke. What a Tyrannosaurus Shambles. What an embarrassment. Consider for a moment if Southampton Twitter would have wanted Mauricio Pochettino and then realise what a nonsense this is.

What's somehow even worse is that I do object to Moyes joining the Club on the grounds that at Sunderland he threatened a female reporter. "It was getting a wee bit naughty at the end there so just watch yourself. You might still get a slap even though you're a woman. Careful the next time you come in" he said, charmingly, to BBC reporter Vicki Sparks, and though he apologised to her the fact that Moyes can seemingly stroll into a job like ours just shows how little professional football cares about domestic violence or misogyny. What message does this send to our female supporters? What message does it send to our female employees?

Naturally when he was interviewed on TV this weekend about the job it was by Richard Keys on BeIN Sports in Qatar. Tell me, how's the sisterhood these days, Karren?

So, Moyes may join, most likely because he's cheap and he's prepared to work for Sullivan, which in itself probably suggests that he's going to struggle. Anyone decent would tell them where to go. And indeed, they frequently do, by all accounts.

***

"But there is really nothing, nothing we can do
Love must be forgotten, life can always start up anew"

- MGMT, "Time To Pretend"

One viewpoint that tends to gain prominence at such times of crisis is that somehow getting relegated wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. It's hard to overstate how untrue this really is. Going down decimates clubs as they lose their playing staff, support staff, recruitment staff, community staff, youth coaches and so on all the way down to match day employees. None of that is worth the fleeting thrill of winning a few more away games, which will quickly lose it's lustre the first time you see Lanzini or Antonio score for Spurs.

If you want a real life example, the England U17 World Cup winning star player Rhian Brewster hails from Chadwell Heath and plays for Liverpool. This is what happens when you have to reduce your scouting and development network as we did after our last relegation.

One way to make sense of all of this madness is to begin viewing all decisions made at the Club through a very specific prism. Assume the club has no money.

I have no inside knowledge here, no smoking gun and no knowledge of things unseen but merely a simple theory that I've been working on for a while. It was Sherlock Holmes who once said that when all possible solutions to a problem have been eliminated whatever is left, however improbable, must be the truth. Now Holmes was a fictional character so he should shut up really, but it kind of works here.

Why was our net spend so low in the summer? Why would we have resisted firing Bilic despite all evidence suggesting he should have gone in the summer? Why would we now be looking to avoid paying compensation for a replacement? Why bring them in on a short term contract that leaves the club in limbo yet further?

All of these can be answered logically in a number of ways, but one way to cogently explain them all is to assume we're broke. And don't forget to sign me up for your company annual seminar as a motivational speaker, folks.


"And no, Toni Martinez ain't the answer either"

I'm truly sorry to end up writing such a negative and gloomy piece but I suppose that's the reality of supporting the House of Sullivan these days. I hope they prove me wrong.

***

On a final, cheerier note (for me) I was thrilled to be nominated for "Blogger of the Year" at the Football Supporters Federation annual awards. This is a prestigious award ceremony, which offers up the pleasing prospect of me having to attend a formal dinner where my place setting will say "HeadHammerShark". 


Anyway, if you would like to vote for me, I'd be delighted to accept and if you wanted to get your family, extended family, neighbours and tarot readers to do the same that would be just dandy too. You can just click on this link and do it in 30 seconds. Many thanks in advance.