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...
What is the worst West Ham United performance of all-time? It’s a question that has divided the scientific community for generations. Some say it’s an impossible ask. With too much raw data for even the most powerful supercomputer to digest and analyse efficiently.
Of course, we all have our own answers. Our own bitter memories of trudging out of football grounds up and down the land, aghast at the incompetence we’ve witnessed with our own eyes.
In my lifetime, I still think the 6-0 shellacking at Oldham in the 1990 Rumbelows Cup semi-final was the absolute nadir. A night when we made the Latics look like Cruyff’s Total Voetbal side of the Seventies. A night when Stewart Robson was outpaced by the corner flag. And a night when poor Liam Brady looked like he wanted to retire on the spot.
But ask a thousand different West Ham fans the question and you’ll get a thousand different responses. Our faces contorted in misery as we recall each harrowing monstrosity in Claret & Blue.
So maybe it’s better to think about the hallmarks of a tried-and-tested West Ham disaster. Mandatory inclusions are as follows. Catastrophic defending. A game plan devised on Etch-A-Sketch by a group of headless chickens. An unashamedly average opposition striker who, thanks to our own inadequacy, suddenly resembles the long-lost son of Diego Maradona. And, ideally, an underwhelming former Hammer who comes back to haunt us.
Whilst the above may not help us ultimately identify the worst, it may help us at least identify candidates for the long list submitted to the judges for review. And in that regard, our performance at Cardiff City on 2 November 2004 certainly qualifies.
We started the game a mere two points off automatic promotion. Ninety minutes later, you could make a case that we should be immediately expelled from the Football League. We were beyond awful. From the first minute to the last. The healthy away following, who recognised the hallmarks of a wasted journey, knew their day was done from as early as the third minute when Alan Lee, playing the role of unashamedly-average-striker-now-an-inexplicable-world-beater perfectly, was given yards of empty space in the penalty area to slot the hosts in front.
Then it was the chance for the underwhelming ex-Hammer to make their mark. The stats will tell you that Jobi McAnuff made 14 appearances in West Ham colours. Though, like the Loch Ness Monster, there is little documentary evidence to support this bar a few grainy images on Google.
Nonetheless tradition dictated that McAnuff, a lively winger by all accounts, would have one of the best games of his professional career. His measured ball into the box found a completely unmarked Joe Ledley – whilst our defence was busy doing the word search in the matchday programme – who duly tapped home.
Whatever Alan Pardew said in the confines of the dressing room at half-time clearly had an effect. In fact, he achieved the impossible. We emerged for the second period somehow even worse. Lee, now doing a very passable impression of Dennis Bergkamp, slotted a pass through the gaping hole in our back four and Paul Parry put the game out of sight.
The anger in the Away end was matched by one man at least. Marlon Harewood had seen enough of his team-mates to know that there was little value in passing to them. So he embarked on a furious 60-yard run past three players before drawing a penalty from a rash Cardiff tackle. Still bristling with rage, Harewood got back to his feet and slotted home the penalty himself.
For a brief moment the 700 hardy souls who’d made their way westbound across the Severn Bridge rejoiced. They had hope. Then the worst thing that could possibly happen… did happen. The referee blew for the restart. And despite having reduced the deficit, we resumed our quest for self-destruction.
Of course, it had to be McAnuff who inflicted the final, fatal blow. He ghosted past our dazed and confused midfield. Didn’t I see that fella in the Club canteen last season? Arriving unrecognised, and unmarked, he tapped in the fourth goal much to his own personal delight. It was hard to begrudge him. Ten of these alleged 14 West Ham appearances had been from the subs’ bench, so perhaps he wasn’t given the best chance to showcase his talents in east London. Now he’d taken his opportunity to show what we were missing.
The lack of structure, game plan, and application were the hot topics on the long journey home for the travelling Irons. But they’d seen this all before. Was this the worst West Ham showing of all-time? Probably not. But in the immediate aftermath, it felt like it merited a place in the pantheon of poor performances.
Still, next week we had Queens Park Rangers at home. And with this team, anything could happen. We could be rubbish again… or we could be Real Madrid. In that sense, Alan Pardew had perfected the West Ham Way.
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.
