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  • Baggies Away

    nevillenixon's picture
    Submitted by nevillenixon on Tue, 27/01/2015 - 11:00

    Not such a good fifth round FA Cup draw for the Hammers, any Tony Pulis team is one to avoid, and an away tie against West Bromwich Albion at the Hawthorns on Saturday 14th of February seems scant reward for all the effort against Everton and to some degree the match against Bristol City.
    It could have been worse for West Ham fans, with Arsenal and most likely Manchester Utd and Liverpool who were all potential opponents. Is is not helpful generally to criticise team members, but if Hammers are to progress in to the next round of the FA Cup skipper, Kevin Nolan, must be benched! This is not a personal attack on a good servant to the club, but The Baggies will absolutely slaughter West Ham if Nolan starts, he just hasn't got the legs anymore, and what is worse is that he concedes free kicks by lashing out at opponents who have breezed past him to try and compensate for his lack of pace. This is not to say that Nolan is not a good player, and it is well known that he is a tremendous character in and around the dressing room, but it is quite clear that he cannot play as part of a diamond formation and perhaps is better suited to coming off the bench to shore things up during the final 20 minutes of a match.
    If Big Sam wants his team to progress further in the competition, then unfortunately he has to drop his favourite player, will he do it? or maybe captain Kev will pick up a convenient face saving 'niggle' just before the match in order that his manager can put out a team that can at least hold it's own against a side that will present a stern physical challenge. -Ed

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  • Hammers Await Last 16 Draw

    nevillenixon's picture
    Submitted by nevillenixon on Mon, 26/01/2015 - 09:21

    Bragging rights have taken a severe swing this weekend following some quite incredible FA Cup results. West Ham fans will be eagerly awaiting the draw for the last 16 0f the FA Cup which will be held live on the One Show BBC1 at 19:00Hrs.
    Last season's capitulation to Notts Forest seems an awful long time ago doesn't it? -Ed

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  • Finally The Org Returns!

    nevillenixon's picture
    Submitted by nevillenixon on Mon, 26/01/2015 - 08:58

    It will take a while to get back up and running, original members will be able to log in soon but may need a password change. Many thousands of members to bulk notify but a few arkward tech issues to overcome for site migration first. -Ed

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  • Flying Physio Room Part XXII

    Tuesday 30 August………Chadwell Heath……contradictory skies, rain jacket and sunglasses weather………..Sam eased back in his lazy boy chair, the beaded seat cover affording his sciatica some relief. He flicked the LCD on and the channel automatically brought up “Man V’s Food”, one of Allerdices personal faves “Eee this lad know’s outta live”……As Adam demolished a 20lb burger wrapped in a Krispy Kreme donut Allerdice salivated “Jeez louise this lad knows outta hit the right buttons”…..the knock on the door brought Allerdice too and he quickly punched in 405 on the controller…..”Come in then, I avunt got all day”…..Sully’s head peered round the corner, he noticed Allerdice was suitably attired for a change and blew a sigh of relief, “Sam my good man, great result Sunday, could have been more though eh?” enquired Sully “Ruddy ref was a joke, man ‘ad more touches ‘ot ball than O’Brian, ruddy blind as a bat n ‘all. Reckon ee doubles as robin ‘ood in his spare time as he definitely took from us ‘n gave t’them”….”Quite” murmured Sully, he hadn’t understood half of what Allerdice boomed, but thought better to delve.

    “This is Brian Martinez” Allerdice looked him up and down, “Well lad, where ya from?” Brian looked at Sully “Sir, its Montenegro– Martinez” “Montenegro eh?! Ruddy ell, lucky we’ve no Serbs on books, training pitch’d turn into a warzone” Allerdice roared at his own joke, Sully turned to Brian “But I thought you were from Paraguay dear boy?”, Brian, very confused tried to correct the situation “Sir, isa said my name is Montenegr” “Reet, ‘eres your training kit lad” Allerdice hurled the bag at Brian before he could finish, oh well, would it matter that much if the boss thought he were eastern European? “so where’d ya play lad, there’s not much of yee is there? Need a few steaks” at this point Sully intervened, “Mr Allerdice, what we have here is one the most sought after attacking players in the world, he has pace to burn and loves to run at the opposition, which, I think you’ll find, is a must for this division”….Allerdice sat on the edge of his desk and looked out of the window, then back at Brian.

    “So Brian, you’re not a striker nor a midfielder…just a very fast albeit naughty boy!!” Allerdice roared at his own joke “Just a very naughty boy – dya gerrit lad?!”, Brian looked at the floor again, “Sorry sir I’ze not knowing what you mena”, Sully looked up and rolled his eyes, Allerdice had tears in his “Evens above, I don’t know where ‘a get em from are really don’t!”. Sully put an arm round Brian’s shoulder, “Well Mr Allerdice, thank you for your time, I’ll show Brian to the changing room”, Allerdice was now wheezing and coughing through laughing so hard “OK Brian, and remember, you’re not the messiah!!!” Allerdice roared again, Brian looked at Sully, his eyes sad and confused and closed the door behind him…….

    Sully led Brian to the changing room. Most of the players were on the training pitch already bar a few reviewing their injuries. John Curfew was having the dressing changed on his chest. After his performance against the Shots of Alder the previous week whereby he’d chested the ball no fewer than 856 times, he’d cracked 4 ribs. Brian saw the pain John was in and winced……Is that how they play the game here he wondered to himself?…..Sully showed him to his peg. “Here you are dear boy, your next to the captain, Mr Nolann, or Mother Hen as we like to call him round here”, Brian looked confused, “Don’t worry, you’ll have to wait to see his goal celebration. Anyhoo, have you got all your things, let’s see here, shorts, top, training bib, sleeping bag, torch, compass….yes all seems correct”, Brian considered the sleeping bag, torch and compass “What isa this? Why we have these Mr Sully?”, Sully slapped his own head “Silly me, of course dear boy, you’re not aware of our new away travelling policy are you? Mr Allerdice has shunned all hotel bookings for away matches, instead, you and the team are dropped off in a field 20 miles from the ground the night before the game with your bag, and all you have are its contents.

    I have to say the results have been most impressive, seems to be bonding the squad. Must be something to do with catching your own dinner, anyhoo, Mother Hen will show you the ropes, you’ll soon be in the spirit, there’s a good lad”. With that Sully walked away. Brian sat down, staring at his sleeping bag and listening to John moan……he decided to wander around his new surroundings, find out what the club was all about……he wandered into the Physio room, all looked normal in here, nice facilities, comfy beds, one could get quite comfortable in here thought Brian to himself…it was then that he noticed the plaque on the wall, a bronze plate with the name “Keeran 2007-11….

    He loved this place”…….Brian then remembered he’d seen a similar plate on the vending machine by the entrance to the changing room, he briskly walked back to see the name that resided on that one, and there, level with the snickers bars it sat “Benni Mac 2010-11….He loved this place”. Brian resolved to ask the boss why names were scattered around the surroundings, what had these people done? he decided they must have been mightily important……it was whilst walking towards Allerdice’s door that he first heard the noises, grunting and groaning and rustling paper, Brian decided he’d get some bargaining power by catching his boss “in the act”, that would serve him right for laughing at him and calling the messiah. He heard the now familiar dulcet tones of the managers voice “Oh yew little bewtieee yessss” . Brian, perched on tiptoes to look through the small window to the right of the door, and there he was, his boss, sitting in his chair quite normally whilst watching a man eating spare ribs on TV……Brian rubbed his forehead and looked up to the skies as the first drops on rain began….”What was this place?”………………….

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  • Flying Physio Room Part XVIII

    Monday 18 July……Chadwell Heath……muggy and overcast….ideal swing bowling conditions………The line of oxygen tanks and asthma pumps made Allerdice’s heart sink faster than a Met Commissioners career. He’d only asked the lads to do a series of sprints and jogs lasting an hour. This was bread ‘n butta as far as Allerdice was concerned. The collective voice from the squad was that “the ball did the work”….Allerdice retorted that the ball had obviously “bin on strike last seezun then ‘eh lads?” The St Johns ambulance brigade from nearby Redbridge had been alerted and a temporary “Mash” style emergency field unit had been erected on the training pitch.

    A sea of vomit was being mopped up by the groundsman, sprinkling sand onto the worst areas, he’d never seen so much filth on a pitch since Mitchell Thomas donned the claret n blue. Allerdice stood in the middle, surveying the wreckage, bodies lay strewn amongst their agents cradling their “stars” sweat matted brows, consoling them. “Listen ‘ere ya buncha tarts” yelled Allerdice, “Ye think the ball will do ‘t work for ye in the Championship yev got anuvin fin cumin. Ye need ‘ard work, balls, sweat ‘n tears. Granted we can play thru sum and thump em ‘n all, but let me tell ye now, you lot turn up at Donny on a cold Tuesday nart, and that lot’ll be sniffin blood and wanting to take a scalp. Yew think this is ‘ard? We ain’t even started ladies”. With that Allerdice spun and kicked a ball in one movement which seared into the top corner.

    Zavun Hiines looked on admiringly “so that’s what it looks like”….the net rippled…..The remainder of the squad looked up at Allerdice through gritted teeth and a steaming haze of pain……AG never made them hurt like this.

    The squad supported one another back to the sanctuary of the changing room, which Wolly found ironic as it was probably the first time he’d seen the squad supporting each other since he’d been there. Wenston Reed was being given a fireman’s lift by young master Tomka, Illoonga had been left behind on his hands and knees, crying in pain that his lungs were going to explode. Luiz Boa Marte felt sorry for him as he knew Heritta had not run for 18 months. Crouching next to full back he whispered in his ear “I hear the boss is planning a new contract for you”….Illoonga suddenly stopped moaning, rose to his feet and begun stretching.

    Freddy Piq had been working the channels as usual (or as Murk Nobel had commented, “anything to keep as far away from the 6 yard box as possible”) and had been so far on the periphery he’d fallen down a ditch and was hyperventilating. His roommate Pabla Barrora was currently contacting the fire services to arrange a winch to haul him out. As each player regained their breath they began checking their blackberry for news of a move that would take them away from this terror. Rab Greene had been inconsolable since news of Villa’s purchase of the flying Irishman and had refused to talk to everyone. Scottie didn’t know which way to turn (which in itself was ironic) his confidante and representative Jaime Redknepp had been uncontactable since Mr Allerdice showed him door/floor.

    He’d also been receiving strange texts from someone called AVB in broken English, but as he’d never met the South African batsmen he thought better of replying. Corlton had been in the headlines the most which had angered and made the others jealous. As the squads studs begun the tapping noise on the cold tiled floor, Corlton had surged ahead, seemingly looking for a private spot to take a call. The rabble stopped to watch the scene unfold. Allerdice too stopped in his tracks, supping his Gatorade and eyeing Corlton suspiciously. Corlton was wandering off down the corridor shouting “Show me the money I’m a ‘kin international man!”….Doris, the little old tea lady was approaching him dead ahead. It became quickly apparent that the corridor was far too narrow for both to pass. Corlton, ever the gent, stepped to the left, however, Doris had followed suit, Corlton therefore quickly stepped to the right, again Doris followed him, Corlton started sweating.

    This time he made a point of looking to the right, but actually stepped to the left, but again Doris had pre-empted this move and followed suit. Corlton slammed his back against the wall, slowly sliding down, hands covering his eyes, sobbing gently to himself “not again, please god no!”….Allerdice adjusted his half eye spectacles and took out his Bic, “ Note to self, Corlton couldn’t beat a granny 1 on 1.”

    Sully was waiting in Allerdices office. “Alreet chuck, got yer passport ready for ‘Agen?” roared Allerdice, Sully chuckled, “I don’t think you have to worry about me Mr Allerdice, I was more concerned with what I saw on that training pitch, where was the ball exactly?” replied Sully curtly, “Well definitely not in their pants I can tell thee that much, ya need to ‘ern the right ‘t play wit ball lad, this lot couldn’t blow up a beach ball let alone mix it wiv hungry Championship players. Gimme a couple ‘o weeks and they’ll be eatin ‘owt me ‘ands….break ‘em and make them, like training a puppy”…..Sully looked away…”Well, I’ll just have to trust you on this one.

    Anyhow, some good news for a change, sponsorship deal, meaning cash, meaning transfers”. “Oh aye, Oooze been mad enough ta climb in ‘t bed wiv us then?” chuckled Allerdice, “The well reputed and obviously greatly foresighted company is Campari….very big in ski jackets apparently in 80’s” answered Sully, “Oh aye, still got one actually” beamed Allerdice, “Hmm, thought you might have….anyhoo, they’ll be sponsoring the main stand – that’s the biggest one to you – one compromise is that we’ll be draping a huge replica ski jacket over the stand as part of the deal. Season ticket holders will have windows through the fabric to view the game through so shouldn’t cause too much of a fuss. Only downside is the players will be running out of a zip rather than a tunnel.

    But hey ho, that’s business” Sully sat back and clipped then end off of his cigar, Allerdice crossed his legs, “So my lads’ll be runnin out of a giant fly? What the ruddy ‘ell ya thinkin man?!” roared Allerdice, “Well some would say after the last couple of seasons this is long overdue” retorted Sully. With that Sully rose and went to the door, “By the way Mr Allerdice, win a game eh?” and exited. Allerdice took his size 12 boot and threw it at the door, he sat back for a moment and realized there was only one thing for it…his little black book…..and his Bolton copy of the yellow pages……this may be harder work than he thought.

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