NOTE FROM ZAMAN: David has managed to write and send his post from a plane – that’s a terrific WHTID first!
As a general rule, I am averse to change. It’s not like I’ve moved many times in my life, but the few times I did I found the whole experience to be very stressful. My adventurous spirit disappeared with my hair many years ago. But when we were chasing the Olympic Stadium oh so many years ago, I wanted the move desperately. When we won it, both in the what turned out to be a dry run and then the decision that stuck, I was elated. So yesterday should have felt like the culmination of many years of excitement. And while there were many things about our new home that impressed me, such as seeing Nigel Kahn eat tapas, there were an equal number of things that left me scratching my head.
The day started by going back to where “we” came from. Nigel took my best mate Jon and I on his famous walking tour of Canning Town. It was harder than I expected to see the wrecking crew tear down two rows of the East Stand at Upton Park. But we had a Pie & Mash at BJ’s, and that helped settle the upset of what had just been witnessed. Nathan’s was closed, but Nigel said that despite Nathan’s fame he preferred BJ’s. A pie dough thing apparently. And his son likes it there. I get that.
We then took a tour of the Stadium and spent a little time with Rob Pritchard in the media department. I won’t lie. To have access to and see a bit of what makes the club tick, and then to be treated like a special guest is like living in a dream. Regardless of the result. To those that have taken us in and made us feel a part of the club we love, and you know who you are, I thank you. Hopefully this can continue to be a yearly pilgrimage, as much to see our friends as our club.
I didn’t take notes at the game. In retrospect that was a wise move. While some thought we played reasonably well at times, I simply didn’t see it that way. Yes, we were able to keep possession for stretches. But our play didn’t look to have purpose. We had more of the ball, more shots, and more corners. Yet in the end, regardless of the number of passes we completed, it always seemed to end in a hopeful ball into the box. And that fleeting hope depended on that cross being as accurate as a cruise missile with the target being Andy Carroll and only Andy Carroll. So as much as we wanted him back and in many regards needed him back, that need itself is a bit of a poisoned chalice.
At the risk of being slated for being too negative, I thought there were many more players who had a poor game than had a decent one. Snodgrass looked like the stomach ailment that hampered him at Watford had spread to his feet because all of his deliveries were sh……I won’t finish that. None of his set pieces presented any threat to the league leaders, and it was his pass that Kante intercepted to start the break that led to Hazard’s opener. As my friend Neil Barnett of Chelsea TV (Yes, he’s a friend. A good friend, too. So that’s one bit of abuse I won’t take kindly to) said, West Ham needed someone to take charge after that goal. To organize. To make it clear that the home side wouldn’t lay down. To lead. But that never seemed to happen.
So when Costa scored their second, I doubt more than a handful of West Ham supporters thought there was much of a chance. Maybe if Feghouli had scored on that volley in the box a few minutes later, the one time Courtois was made to work for his wages, it would have been game on. Or if Mariner had pointed at the spot after the ball went off Alonso’s arm. Yet if Randolph hadn’t come up with his big save in the first half and the visitors had buried one of their other chances it would have been moot by halftime. The team that travelled back to West London with three points and likely a league title deserved both.
So now the pink elephant in the room. We came last season to watch us win that memorable FA Cup replay against Liverpool and to bid farewell to Upton Park. This trip was about being introduced to our new home. Those who have suffered through my reports for three years now know how much I love metaphors. They are indeed useful. So here we go again.
There are two houses to choose from. One is a modest but perfectly functional home. Around 2000 square feet. Four bedrooms, so both kids get their own room and you even have a guest room to offer the inlaws when they visit. The kitchen isn’t massive, but everything works and is laid out in a logical way. You have enough bathrooms so teenage daughter fits and issues aren’t a problem. Finally, a two car garage that’s attached to the house.
The other is 5000 square feet. More than you need and then some, with six bedrooms. You do still have to heat those rooms in the winter, despite them being empty virtually all the time. Same goes for the five bathrooms. I guess it’s nice to have them even if they are rarely used. The kitchen has a massive commercial stove. Eight burners, full sized griddle, terrific venting unit above. But it’s on the opposite side of the room from the pots, pans, oils, refrigerator, even running water. Stuff you reach for and need pretty quickly when you’re cooking. The four car garage is also impressive, but it’s on the opposite side of the road from the house. So if it’s raining, snowing, or you have lots to unload into the house it isn’t ideal.
Which house would you choose? Different people will give you a different answer based on their needs and priorities. I won’t say one choice is definitively right or wrong. And while I don’t want to open myself up to ridicule, I also don’t want to avoid what some might be wondering. Which house would I choose?
I’d go with the first one. So if I could travel back in time, knowing the realities as opposed to the desires, I would have stayed at Upton Park and looked for an opportunity to grow with a stadium built for the primary purpose of staging football matches. That does not mean there weren’t legitimate reasons to move to the London Stadium or that the choice itself was wrong. I have no doubt that there are many supporters, including some that I call a friend, who could win a formal debate with me on that question. Nor does it mean that I didn’t enjoy myself. I did, and I will be back.
Life isn’t perfect, nor is our new home. But it must be accepted and eventually embraced. Which I will do.
Change happens.