Sid Lambert takes us back 20 years to the 2004/05 season, when Alan Pardew’s Hammers secured a rollercoaster return to the Premier League...
The start of the season is always a cagey affair. The ground is always bathed in sunshine. Fans settle back into their old routines, while new faces on the playing staff endeavour to settle into their new surroundings.
The fixture computer for Alan Pardew’s first full season in charge had sent us to former Premier League foes Leicester City. As was the case throughout his tenure to date, I had absolutely no clue as to his likely first eleven. True to form, he somehow managed to sandwich Rebrov, Harewood and Sheringham into an unlikely forward line.
None of them found the target on a day when both sides seemed happy to settle for a point – and neither finished with their full quota of players. First to go was Foxes veteran Dion Dublin for a stray elbow that wasn’t caught by the TV cameras. Rufus Brevett’s red card, however, could be the subject of no debate. The experienced defender’s attempt to separate James Scowcroft from his ankles was rightly punished.
Our first home game was a reunion for Pards with his former club Reading. The away support made it clear that there was little love lost for their previous gaffer. He was about as welcome as a piranha in your bathtub.
Nonetheless, the West Ham man had the last laugh. Stephen Bywater hit a long punt downfield towards Sheringham. The ageing striker’s flick-on caused chaos in the penalty area, and when Chadwick squared the ball across, Teddy slotted home his first goal in Claret and Blue. It was the sort of clinical finish he’d perfected in 22 years as a professional. And the perfect example of why he’d been brought to Upton Park. For 81 minutes Reading had been the better side, but had lacked composure in front of goal. Sheringham had one shot – and made it count. In that instant, his Spurs heritage was forgotten.
We’d been unconvincing, but we had three points. Maybe it would be the lift-off we needed for a long season ahead.
Or maybe not.
There’s something about Wigan Athletic. I’m pretty sure that since the dawn of time, every team hosting the Latics has gone into the game expecting three points. It feels like the sort of fixture you’re legally obliged to note down as a home win on your pools coupon. But Paul Jewell’s team were legitimate promotion contenders. And on a miserable afternoon in east London, they exposed all our familiar frailties.
None more so than Andy Melville. The Welshman’s West Ham career had been somewhat unpredictable to date. There were games when he looked every inch like the no-nonsense defender Pardew expected him to be. On other occasions he played like his boots had been filled with concrete. From the first whistle he was bullied by Wigan’s Jason Roberts (who would be a perennial thorn in our side over the years) and Duke Ellington. He was arguably at fault for both first-half goals in what would prove to be his final league appearance for us.
Bobby Zamora got a late consolation in a sobering 3-1 defeat. The tall striker had been introduced at half-time for the ineffective Sergei Rebrov. The Ukrainian barely seemed on speaking terms with the ball and pre-season concerns about his suitability for this level of football seemed well-justified.
Unsurprisingly, Melville and Rebrov were surplus to requirements for the trip north to Crewe Alexandra. Pardew changed the personnel – and the formation – in desperate attempt to get our early season back on track against the Railwaymen.
It worked perfectly. At least for 30 minutes. For half an hour the 7,857 souls at Gresty Road were treated to the sort of performance that would put Johan Cruyff’s Total Voetbal to shame. West Ham were sharp and incisive. Clever in possession. Clinical in attack. An instinctive Sheringham finish put us in front. Then the old master stooped to head in a cross from Matty Etherington to double our advantage. When Brevett momentarily mistook himself for Roberto Carlos and clattered in a 30-yard third, the travelling Hammers were in dreamland.
This was the sort of performance we’d been waiting for. A performance worthy of promotion. A performance worthy of potential title contenders.
And then it went wrong. Dangerously wrong.
There was a big lad up front for Crewe who’d given us no end of problems. Strong with his back to goal, deceptively quick with space in front of him. Barely a minute after Brevett’s goal, the big fella had got Crewe back in the game.
The second half proved to be a needlessly nervy affair. We lost control. Crewe grew in confidence. With eight minutes to go, their target man notched again. Thankfully we held on for a much-needed three points. But afterwards the talk was all about two opposing strikers. On the one side you had the vast experience of Sheringham, who was using all his wisdom to extend his storied career.
Then there was the young Alexandra attacker whose football journey had only just begun.
His name? Dean Ashton. One to keep an eye on.
Sid has a new book out: ‘Highs, Lows and Di Canios: The Fans’ Guide to West Ham United in the 90s’. Visit www.thewesthamway.com, or head into the official West Ham store for a rollercoaster ride through one of the most turbulent decades in Claret & Blue history.
*The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views opinions of West Ham United.
