As it was late November, it seemed like a good idea to nip away for a few days. Recharge the batteries, so to speak, so off we went to Holy Island for a bit of R&R. After booking in to the hotel (OK, pub), three more prospective customers arrived.

A Jew, a Hindu, and a Mag turned up to find that there had been a mix-up with the bookings, and that there was only one room left for them to share. The manager explained that this room only had two beds, but that there was a barn at a neighbouring farm which the farmer, an old friend of his, would let one of them sleep in free of charge.

They complained a bit, but since there was nowhere else to go, the Jew graciously said he'd sleep in the barn. The Hindu and the Mag were just settling down to sleep in their room, when there was a knock on the door. It was the Jew.

'I'm sorry,' he said, 'but there's a pig in that barn and because I'm Jewish I feel uncomfortable about sharing the barn with it.' 'No problem,' said the Hindu. 'I'll sleep out there instead.' So off he went to the barn, leaving the Mag and the Jew to share the room.

They were just settling down to sleep, when there was a knock on the door. It was the Hindu. 'I'm sorry,' he said, 'but there's a cow in that barn and because I'm a Hindu I feel uncomfortable about sharing the barn with it.'

The Mag grudgingly agreed to give up his bed and stomped off to the barn, leaving the Jew and the Hindu to share the room. The Jew and the Hindu were just settling down to sleep, when there was a knock on the door. It was the cow and the pig.

It was a great break, even if it did snow, but parents going away can mean only one thing for the lads left at home, party time. Bless them, they do try to cover their tracks by tidying up, but they’re crap at tell-tale details such as the half-finished pint on the kitchen window sill, the pint pots at various points around the house, and the Carling can behind the couch. Never mind, we all did it. Well, not the Carling personally.

It looks like Jonesy and Carlos came back from the Caribbean with no missing body parts, so all systems go for West Ham, and a full squad to choose from. Apart from possibly George and Craig, that is.

In the press this week, apart from England’s Terry-influenced win in Germany, was a great deal about Terry Butcher needing to grow up because of his comments about Maradona. The cheating, lying Argentinean manager compared his 1986 “goal” to Geoff Hurst’s 1966 effort, but what he forgets is that Sir Geoff shot for goal, thought he’d scored, and was awarded a goal. In 1986, Maradona punched the ball into the net, and then said God did it. Which is pretty pathetic to start with, but to have not admitted any sort of wrongdoing in the intervening years shows not what he is, but what he isn’t – a sportsman. A brilliantly talented footballer, but not a sportsman. For once, what Butcher did and said off the field was right, in my book. They say cheats never prosper, but the tubby little get has done OK so far.

A dusting of snow in Bishop had us wondering what delight lay beyond Houghton Cut. Sun, or more snow? On with the more robust shoes and the woolly socks, then. Would we win two in a row, because if this season has taught us anything it’s that the team that wins one week usually gets stuffed the next.

A quick stop off at the Salty for a Ryhope Tug (fnarr fnarr) then to TJ Doyle’s to complete the afternoon’s refreshment as the group gathered for the day. Pop, the only living Hammer in Bish, had turned down my offer of a £10 ticket, but was there like a flash when Cammy turned up with a freebie. Cheeky Cockney bugger.

Fulop
Bardsley Noz Ferdy Collins
Steed Richo Deano Reid
Cisse Jones

We had a couple of decent bursts forward in the first few minutes, but without creating anything tangible. The visiting defence looked terrified of Cisse. We had a couple of shots charged down, Cisse took the ball well and just missed finding Steed. Hmm, this might be OK, I thought.

Wrong.

Bardsley put in a great tackle, then Richo found Cisse with a long pass, but all we got was a throw. There was a period of sharp interplay ending with a good save by Green from the left. Steed broke down the right, cut inside, and played it wide to the left, but the eventual header was over the top. All of this, as I’ve said, seemed to bode well, but closer scrutiny revealed that Jones and Cisse didn’t really know what the other was doing, and as a partnership, it was up there with Morecambe and Wise in football terms. As the over-fussy ref refused to let the game flow, Noz saved the day with a tackle at the expense of a corner, and Reid, Cisse,and Jones combined to see an effort blocked. West Ham won a free-kick on the corner of the box, and after qa couple of almost clearances, a shot took a hefty deflection and flew past Fulop into the net. 19 minutes, and a mountain to climb.

Reid did find Cisse’s head soon after, but that went wide, then Fulop sliced horribly to force Bardsley into a bookable challenge. We broke forward to set Cisse into the box, and he was brought down to no response from the ref. Half time replays showed not only a foul, but a probably red card offence. Still, the ref was on a mission to make a nonsense of the “respect” campaign by being a total arse. Cisse headed wide again, Collins crossed too high for anyone, and Richardson showed great tenacity to almost create something. Bardsley and Steed played a nice 1-2 but the final pass was poor. We were suffering because they were sharper than us in central midfield. On 44, Anton produced a slip of Bramble-esque proportions, Fulop did well to force Bellamy wide, and the eventual cross was knocked off the bar and away.

No changes for the second half, and we produced early pressure again. Again it came to nothing. Bardsley fed Cisse, in went the shot, there looked to be a hand stopping it, but again the ref ignored our pleas. Cisse headed wide again, Jones produced a decent run and cross, but mostly we were forced into playing long ball or deep crosses into the box which the Hammers’ defence simply gobbled up. After a West Ham chance was headed over, Fulop did well to save at the feet, and Collins found Reid, who crossed for Jones to knock just over. Reid crossed again, but Cisse got his header all wrong, and on came Murphy and Carlos for Steed and Reid on 65.

Carlos and Bardsley combined for the latter to fire wide, then Diouf came on for Jones. Murphy moved into the middle and Diouf moved out left. Lots of huff, lots of puff, but not as much sharp stuff as the visitors. Four added minutes were of no use to us, as we produced nothing new or different. A loss was probably all we deserved, and the team was over-run in central midfield and showed no understanding up front.

Man of the Match? Probably Richardson ahead of Deano’s industry, as he looked like the only one who combined effort and artistry.

And congratulations to Marcus and Abi on the arrival, last Monday, of Patrick Curtis (what’s wrong with Niall, Roy, or Djibril?), the latest addition to the Red and White army. A typical start to life on our magic carpet.

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