The band played a detuned version of ‘The Great Escape’ as I tried to use my charm, charismatic personality and (as a last resort) my Hammerschat verbal season ticket to pass through the turnstile without the pain of coughing up a fiver. I’d be here before. Deja bleeding vu. The the lady (?) on duty looked at me blank. She referred me to a joint chairman (the older one) who denied any knowledge of Hammerschat, me, or letting anyone in ‘buckshee.’ Cogs turned. There was an uncomfortable pause. ’Oh….Hammerschat…. why didn’t you say?’ he said waving me through, wallet still in tact. The band played on.
The Haverettes have been going years. I remember them in their heyday, thirty or forty strong, turning out for all the borough carnivals, marching with precision through the streets, winning awards across Europe (I might have made that one up). I’m sure they played in our twin town Ludwigshafen a few times (I might have made that up as well).
It was Billy Jean’s turn to receive the trumpet and triangle treatment. It wasn’t too shabby actually.
The band was only twelve strong. Maybe it’s uncool nowadays. I think the uniform could do with (I hate to say it) Americanising, bring it into the 21st century.
I’d brought my tripod this time to improve my chances of getting a still still photograph. I’d brought a zoom lens which I proceeded to drop on the floor. “Bet that’s broke it’ someone grammatically incorrectly chided, probably hoping it was (it wasn’t). I decided to set up shop near the director’s box. There was a minutes silence before the kick off. Two minutes later there was another silence. Brighton had scored. They looked good. Their players looked super fit and were knocking the ball about a la Arsenal. I missed the goal because I was still fiddling with my tripod, but basically the ball hit the back of the net. The West Ham ladies weren’t at the races….. I feared the worst. They are still in the process of rebuilding, and the team looked very unteamlike. A few minutes later Aditi made a great save to deny the visitors. West Ham were relying on booting it up to Paige who was being chaperoned by two Brighton defenders,and Danni and Whitney were chasing shadows down the right hand side. But they held on to the one goal deficit with great courage.
Twenty one minutes in and West ham are awarded a penalty for a foul on Giulia Ferrandi. After some treatment (not the last) Giulia picked herself up and slotted the penalty cooly past the ‘diving the wrong way’ keeper. This seemed to give the girls a lift and they began to play some good stuff. Giulia took the full force of the ball (not sure where) and was poleaxed again. There was a lengthy break for her to regain her senses and soon after her recovery she was floored again by a clash of heads. The biggest headache was delivered by the scoring of Brighton’s second goal just on the stroke of half time, the cliche’d good time to score. When is it a bad time to score?
Half time and the Haverettes performed a mean version of the Bond theme, followed by a rambling bit of music I didn’t recognise.
I don’t know what the teams had for half time refreshment but they both came out for the second half in a’going through the motions’ attitude. One of the chairmen (the younger one) joined me for a chat on the cold steps. Risking piles we discussed the the present (good) state of the team and various players attributes. All seemed well with the good ship West Ham ladies and the future looked bright. Chev (I think that’s what her name is) came on as sub and started to give the Brighton defence the runaround. Stephen told me she was very skillful but needed to get a mean streak. Moments later she received the ball far out and hit it first time. Brighton’s keeper could only stand and admire the ball as it hit the back of her net. It was a stunning strike. Unbelievable.
In true West ham tradition the ladies spent the rest of the game repelling the onslaught that came their way, Sitting deep lumping the ball….Sam would have been proud. Aditi still had time to make another brave save, injuring herself in the process. They survived. The whistle blew. It felt like a win. It was a victory of sorts and well earned too.
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