It's my birthday today and what am I doing at 3.30am instead of getting a good night sleep for the day ahead, or partying? Trying to figure out what exactly is wrong with our Club!
Being even more frustrated that I couldn't get to the match today or get any radio coverage, I just felt it was time to air my thoughts on our current situation.
The year - 1969. I sat in awe as twenty-two famous footballers played in the biggest place I’d ever seen and the atmosphere was amazing. The sight of claret and blue scarves waving, the singing was something I would remember for the rest of my life. My allegiance to West Ham was born.
So, we await the result of the PFA’s ballot for strike action. Should they receive our backing or not?
Right now I should be writing yet another letter to British Gas who have kindly registered me as a defaulter on a bill for a house which I was no longer living at, and was in fact empty during the 6 month period in question. My credit rating is now in tatters, yet every time I try to put pen to paper (or should I say finger to keyboard), my mind wanders to something much much more worrying. What the hell is happening at West Ham United FC?
Over the past week as it became more and more evident that Glenn Roeder would be appointed manager, I have been thinking of how this would affect the club I have supported since 1969, from the tender age of 6 years old.
In reply to a message posted on the KUMB message board a few days ago I said that although I was concerned with our situation, I wouldn’t be losing any sleep over it. Oh how I was wrong!
Firstly, I must point out that sometimes I do not fully understand Harry’s tactical policies regarding formation/substitutions etc. however, I would like to redress the balance (hopefully) to some extent with regards to the amount of public criticism he has been getting from fans.
This being my first live game since the Play-Off Final in Cardiff, I was somewhat excited; hoping for the best but fearing the worst. So some of you may think that this report has been written by someone looking through claret-tinted bins, but to coin a well-known Catchphrase catchphrase, I can only say what I see.