- This is probably the last time you'll see the Premier League in its present incarnation. Besides, the wheels always seem to fall off and we are talking about West Ham United. If memory serves me correctly the last time West Ham were top of the old First Division was some time in the mid 1970s, ancient history and so long ago that it may just as well have been at some time during the Victorian period when chimney sweeps plied their trade scrubbing and scraping a meagre living.
Yesterday West Ham finished the day in the exalted heights of third and some of us were just gulping our astonishment. After a hard earned 2-2 draw with Bournemouth at the Vitality Stadium even the south coast promenaders must have paused for breath at the candy floss stall. The seaside air is particularly invigorating at this time but for West Ham it had to be even more satisfying.
Last Wednesday evening West Ham performed one of their familiar music hall acts when they were demolished by League One Oxford United. Oxford's 4-0 victory over West Ham, amid the dreaming spires, was no figment of the imagination because, days after the Hammers attractive 2-0 victory against a struggling Manchester United West Ham fell over yet another banana skin. Only West Ham could beat football's aristocrats and then lose to the paupers. Of course the class divide between the Premier League and the rest of the Football League has now become much more of a level playing field.
So it is that West Ham are out of the Carabao Cup(formerly known as the League Cup) the brainchild of one Alan Hardaker, frequently regarded as one of the most old fashioned and conservative chairmen of the FA. With Manuel Pellegrini now into his second season at West Ham, there were wistful hopes in Stratford that this was the season when finally any kind of silverware would be decorating the West Ham trophy cabinet. Now though only the Premier League and the exciting possibility of a spirited FA Cup run starting in January can provide West Ham with crumbs of consolation, the latter being the most realistic option.
Still, if we concentrate on the present, it's comforting to know that West Ham have now reached double figures at the end of September. After the 5-0 mauling by Premier League champions Manchester City on the opening day of the season, West Ham have made comfortable progress into the early autumnal equinox with some consistently fluent performances, a pleasant combination of speed on the break, free flowing football and neat little tattoos of passes that have torn defences wide open.
Against Bournemouth in a gripping, end to end game, West Ham once again counter attacked smoothly, broke with devastating ease and used the ball both constructively and with some fluidity. When the superb Felipe Anderson swung over a handsome diagonal pass into the path of striker Sebastian Haller, a goal was somehow seconds away. Haller trapped the ball perfectly, dragged the ball back to the classy Andriy Yarmolenko. The Ukranian turned his marker beautifully and curled the ball into the net for West Ham's deserved opener.
The red and black shirts of Bournemouth were not to be disheartened. Under manager Eddie Howe, the Cherries have carved out a niche for themselves in the Premier League. Some of Bournemouth's football is fit to put before football's most sophisticated connoisseurs, a liberal sprinkling of maple syrup and molasses. Their passing is quick, simple, crisp and metronomically accurate. There is a silkiness and purity about their football that reminds you of freshly washed sheets fluttering in the wind.
After Josh King had levelled for Bournemouth with a goal that seemed to take an age to clarify by VAR, West Ham briefly lost their bearings. Issa Diop and Angel Ogbanna looked ever so slightly ruffled in the heart of West Ham's now fragile central defence. The cutting edge had been dulled and only Declan Rice, Yarmolenko and Anderson managed to keep West Ham's heads above water.
Seconds into the second half Bournemouth were ahead in the game. Sluggish and inattentive at the back, Bournemouth's lethal and natural goal scorer Callum Wilson capitalised on West Ham sloppiness and lethargy. Wilson swept the ball past Lukaz Fabianski, the West Ham goalkeeper who would later have to go off the pitch with a worrying injury and West Ham panicked for the best part of twenty minutes or so.
Fortunately though Fabianski's injury setback served only to revitalise the away side who promptly moved forward with yet more stately attacking movements. Rice was venturing forward from defence with increasing confidence, captain Mark Noble was like a temperature gauge, always rotating the ball and recycling it with that calming influence that West Ham fans have come to expect from him.
With nothing to lose West Ham sprung forward once again, throwing caution to the wind and sensing that Bournemouth's gung ho, carefree approach would eventually be rumbled. Another fairground carousel of passes near the half way line resulted in another long, raking ball to Haller who cushioned the ball back to the onrushing full back Aaron Cresswell who lashed the ball into the net for West Ham's equaliser. It may have taken a deflection but you wouldn't have heard any complaints from triumphant West Ham fans. Cresswell had scored his second goal in successive weeks.
And then the game petered out into a draw, a splendidly enjoyable and cracking game of football rather like the ones we used to see when both teams made a conscious effort to attack with complete freedom regardless of the consequences. At the end of it all, both teams shook hands reflecting all the while that altitude sickness may not be their paramount consideration. West Ham are up to third and Bournemouth are not that far behind them. For those with claret and blue allegiances this seems too good to be true. Still, we can enjoy it while it lasts. Long may it last.
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