The Diary

08 November 2003: It's All Downhill From Now On, Anc!

I?m writing my latest daily missive having just got back from Anc?s 40th birthday ? yes, you read that right! ? 40th BIRTHDAY!!! thrash at The Vine, where the poor senile sod was last seen shovelling curry down his neck for all it was worth, in the company of his long-suffering missus and family. Oh, and a Wulves supporter friend (!) of his, but your secret is safe with me, Anc, old bean. Quite a do, I have to say, and all arranged in total secrecy by his family and friends (well they were friends ? now, I?m not so sure!), and the old codger?s last words to me were something on the lines of, ?I?m really knocked out by all this!? Blimey, that goat-meat tandoori must have been a little riper than originally anticipated! He also reckons he?d been ?Done up like a kipper!? on this one, but having never seen kippers in that sort of state, I wouldn?t really know.

The other news to emanate from GD Towers tonight is that we?ve had a new Dick delivery, and the end-result should be on sale (coach and escorting police permitting ? remember Newcastle?) outside Upton Park as from around 1.30 tomorrow. As usual, the anticipated arrival of our organ wasn?t without its problems; according to Paul The Mad Welsh Printer, his jalopy began blowing back smoke once more, and he had to divert via a garage to sort the problem out, but he did eventually arrive at our place at around eight tonight, so all was well in the end. Incidentally ? and this is dead serious ? he?s been having a rotten time of it lately because his wife was recently diagnosed with malignant melanoma (that?s the nasty form of skin cancer) on one of her fingers, and the medics reckon the cause was probably spending too much time on one of those sun-tanning beds, the sort that use concentrated UV light to do the biz. So, if you do also, don?t! She?s currently undergoing a skin-graft on the bit of finger where the problem was, but the docs reckon that as they?ve managed to remove the malignancy completely, everything should be OK eventually.

And now, the bit you?ve all been waiting for; my pre-away match potted history of the relevant area. One of the first references to West Ham came when the area, which previously belonged to the Abbey Of Westminster and then the Montfichets Order of Cistercian Monks, was divided into East and West Hans in 1319. Very little happened in the area up until the time of Queen Victoria, but the expansion of the Royal docks around that time changed it forever. West Ham then became a ?company town? for both the rapidly-expanding shipping industries and the Beckton Gas Works.During World War Two, the Luftwaffe, realising that if you knocked the London docks out, you knackered a significant proportion of the country, tried their Germanic best to flatten the area; unsurprisingly, the place was left a wasteland as a result of their loving aviation-inspired attentions.

The post-war years saw massive physical and social reconstruction, arguably, not always in the inhabitants? best interests. Thousands moved out of the slums during the 50?s and 60?s, to places like nearby Dagenham, while those who stayed were joined by people from former Commonwealth colonies of the Asian subcontinent and the West Indies.

Famous West Ham people. Loads! In fact, when doing the research for this section of my daily offering, I just couldn?t believe the incredible choice I had of folkies worthy of inclusion for one reason or another. Sadly, space considerations dictated I give you but a few tasty morsels, so here goes. First off is one James Keir Hardie. Who? Only the Labour Party?s first Member Of Parliament, that?s who. He first took his Parliamentary seat for the borough in 1892, and in later years went on to represent a Welsh constituency. Should you pass by the local churchyard and hear the sound of whirring, it?s just the old geezer revolving at 33 rpm at the thought of what the present lot are doing to his founding principles!

Other notaries of the borough? Joseph Lister, the bloke who brought antiseptic surgery kicking and screaming into the Victorian medical world, and in the face of not a little opposition from his medical contemporaries. What he did was to spray operative wounds with carbolic acid (a crude but effective germicide), and ensure the whole theatre was well-scrubbed beforehand, ditto the surgeons, who, prior to his interventions, had thought nothing of doing their cutting and sawing in the dirtiest frock-coats they could muster. And using instruments soiled with the blood and muck of many previous operations. Yuk. West Ham was also the birthplace of Steve Marriott, once lead singer of the Small Faces, a sixties group. Ever heard ?All Or Nothing?? ?Lazy Sunday Afternoon?? Or ?Sha-La-Lee?? Yep, Steve?s the lad with the mike. Sadly, he died in a fire about 11 years ago, but the music still lives on.

And, would you believe, Bert Weedon? He?s the guitar-bloke who solemnly promised to get you playing the instrument in a day; a vital skill for lads in the sixties who wanted to acquire that all-important girl-pulling street-cred. West Ham also gave rise to two VC winners ? I suppose they breed ?em tough there! ? but the world of crime really yields up some interesting facts about the place. Dick Turpin, the highwayman, hailed from the area ? now, of course, his role in life has been usurped by the Inland Revenue. The nastiest of the lot, though, I?ve kept for last. Victorian poisoner and mass-murderer Catherine Wilson, who perpetrated her deadly deeds between 1853 and 1862. Apparently, she used to offer her services as a nurse to loaded gentry with chronic illnesses, and then took the opportunity to bump them off. The law finally caught up with her, however, and she was publicly executed in 1864. These days, they?d just make her appear on ?Pop Idols?!

I can?t leave this section, though, without making mention of the most famous ?Hammer? of the lot, although his existence is purely fictional. I refer, of course, to Alf Garnett, that well-known Docklands bigot, as created by comedy-writer Johnny Speight. His TV son-in law was the bloke responsible for Cherie Booth, better known these days as Mrs. Blair QC. Which just goes to show you can?t always choose you relatives, even pretend ones!

Returning to tomorrow?s game proper, although it?s looking as though we?ve got the services of Hughsie again, it may well be we?re without goalkeeping cover instead. The problem is that our normal understudy, Joe Murphy, took a knock versus The Dingles at Aggborough on Monday night, and hasn?t recovered in time. Bearing that in mind, I?m now wondering whether before the coach journey today, our physio, Nick Worth, enveloped Russell in great swathes of that plastic bubble-wrap stuff. Aw, you know, what you use to send fragile and precious goods long distances, which is basically what we?re talking about here.

Presumably, his comrades are also under strict instructions not to jolt, knock, trip, or otherwise sully the pristine condition of his body before tomorrow?s game! I now have a vision of poor Russell proceeding about his hotel tonight, accompanied by a couple of those blokes you see in curling contests ? the ones with the brooms who are tasked with sweeping away watery obstacles before the stone encounters ?em. In this case, of course, the obstacles being removed would be physical ones. Other players would be detailed to place bouncy rubber mats around his person as and when needed, of course. When he goes to bed, will our manager be there to sing him a lullaby as well so he doesn?t get too stressed?

Incidentally, before you ask, yes, we do have a third-string keeper; his name is Danny Crane (aka ?Bigfoot?) and he played also versus the Dingles last Monday night. Don?t get me wrong; the lad tries very hard, bless his size 13 boots, but he does have this unfortunate tendency to spill seemingly-easy shots on goal. Sadly, the consistency isn?t there, and this showed last Monday night, when he made a couple of excellent stops against the Wulverhampton hordes towards the end of the game. This was in total contrast to his previous non-performances against both the Claret-And Spew and Blues, where he was directly responsible for at least two of the goals against. That?s why we aren?t relying on his deputising services tomorrow.

Something that passed me by during the hoo-ha of last night?s AGM; it now looks as though Newcastle have vetoed striker Carl Cort joining our ranks on a loan basis. Is my beloved psychic, or wot? On the coach following our triumph against The Toon the other night, ?Im Indoors said ? jocularly, I hasten to add ? ?I?ll bet you anything, now we?ve won, Carl Cort will suddenly ?develop? a mysterious injury, which means we can?t have him!? Uri Geller, eat your heart out ? all you Baggie folk out there had better watch it, because with a start like that, he?ll be bending bloody spoons before too long! Perhaps it?s just as well the move?s been squashed flat, really, because The Noise, our resident repository of football knowledge, reckons he?d only played about three games for The Toon last season, hadn?t even made the bench at all this term, and would therefore be mighty short on match-experience were he to appear in our ranks.

Remember the other day when I bemoaned the fact Albion were being somewhat churlish about giving young Tam Mkandawire permission to play in a cup-tie for Hereford United, his current loan club? As he was about twelfth choice for a first-team call-up at the time, I really couldn?t see the sense in this; not to let him play wasn?t exactly helping the kid?s career, was it? Well, I?m pleased to report that Albion have now relented, and Tam will be able to turn out for the Bulls in their First Round FA Cup tie versus Peterborough, at London Road, after all. Much to my surprise, all the lingering injury problems they collected over the last few games have now dissipated, and they?re picking from a full squad tomorrow. Those of you who like a crafty flutter could do worse than send your hard-earned ackers whanging in the direction of Honest John?s Turf Accountants ?with The Bulls? names on your wad, of course.

And that?s it. I?m off to have some sweet dreams about besting The Hammers tomorrow; with a distinct emphasis on the word ?dream?; I honestly can?t see us getting that much tomorrow. See you there.

 - Glynis Wright

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