Tuesday, 24th August 2010
Carling Cup, 2nd Round
West Ham Utd 1 OUFC 0
I know that for many of the 3,800 or so that were there last night, a game against a Premiership side will probably be the highlight of their season. Not for me - I was truthfully more excited about Accrington on Saturday.
I've always treated these away cup ties at
'big clubs' as something of a light relief from the season proper rather than something to get terribly worked up about. A game like this is the equivalent of the porter scene in Macbeth; a slapstick bit of frivolity to lighten up the otherwise important and serious business of the campaign.
As such, I'm not particularly gutted about Scott Parker's undeserved 93rd minute winner last night. Probably more gutted than I would be had we not played so well and deserved at least another 30 mins at them, but that's football.
For me this was as close as I'm likely to get to a home game. Living in Central London, my train home from work in deepest, darkest Kent allowing me to stop off en-route at the new Stratford International station amidst the Olympic building site. A short bus-hop from there and I alighted at the wonderful
Green Street - not as i expected it to be, full of American-accented faux-hooligans but actually a particularly vibrant corner of Pakistani culture in London.
Although I had been hoping to sample some of the wares of Duncan's Pie, Eels & Mash shop, this had closed by the time I got there so instead it was to Himalaya's canteen-style Restaurant & Takeaway for a plate of curry. Yum. They will win no prizes for appearance at this place, but who cares when the food tastes this good or authentic.
So, as I gazed from my window seat inside at the cooks selling samosas and pakoras to the local populace outside, I reflected that this was not the start to a typical football away day.
A man in a very old West Ham shirt came in and greeted the Restaurant owner, who asked him
"who are they playing today?"
The 'appy 'ammer replied
"It's a cup game against Oxford, who are a very lowly side - as low as you can get! So we should win tonight."
I was too busy wolfing down my curry to bother interjecting that you can certainly get lower than League Two - something I could articulate at length about if he had wished me to recount our last four years. I was also pleased at his arrogance and only hoped the 1st XI Avram Grant picked were equally dismissive of Oxford. It could be their comeuppance.
Wiping down my spice-soaked face, I decanted myself from this wonderful little place and walked amongst the locals and their sari shops & spice markets for a few hundred feet before the crowd turned into a football one as I passed Upton Park tube with a sea of yellow emerging from within.
One thing I always love about
'big games' is the feeling of being part of something as you walk down the cordoned-off roads in the vicinity of the ground with the throngs all heading in the same direction. Streets lined with burger vans, programme vendors and scarf & badge fly-pitchers. Haven't we missed the opportunity to experience that since we dropped out of the league?
I've been to The Boleyn Ground before, but I'm always amazed at how gaudy those Legoland castle turrets look in front of their main stand. Why not go the whole hog and get some mock-Tudor beams and stone cladding alongside it? Jesus.
So, the match itself then,* and how can you fault either the team or the fans on the night? Official away crowd not yet in, but the steward near us said we had close to 4,000 on the night and would be by far the biggest away following there this season (mainly due to them only giving 2,900 away in the League of course!).
Tremendous support Oxford.
We battled our hearts out on the pitch too of course. Beano looked knackered in that 2nd half, having run around like an enraged bluebottle on his own upfront all night. I was surprised, rose-tinted glasses accepted, to see that West Ham apparently had 65% of possession on the night - I thought we held the ball quite well and seemed to have a good stretch in charge in the 2nd half. It's always nice to hear some olés when you are playing against a Premiership side!
There was much consternation around me that those heading back to The Shire would likely miss their last train as it was heading into extra time. No such worries for me, but on 89 mins I did draft a text to MrsOx to say I'd be home later than expected. What a foolish thing to do, it was bound to enrage the Football God's wrath and teach me a lesson that nothing is ever predictable in football, as Parker (the only player for West Ham that perhaps emerged with any credit on the night) slotted home with 10 seconds to go.
Having experienced the nightmare collapse at Kenilworth Road in February though, this didn't particularly sting for very long.
Still early in the season, but we've already proved we can play football, proved we can mix it with teams at higher levels and proved we can score goals for fun when we are in gear.
Now it's time to pick up some points.
Saturday is a big one. I can't wait.
*You will notice that my 'match reports' are becoming less about the game but more the matchday experience around the football itself. I'd suggest you read Chris Williams reports first so you actually know what's happened in the game. This blog should expand your horizons a bit beyond that though. Maybe.