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AT THE START OF THE SEASON IT WAS PREDICTED IN MOST CORNERS THAT WEST HAM WOULD BE THE BIGGEST DRAW IN THE NATIONWIDE FIRST DIVISION. RECENT RESULTS WOULD APPEAR TO SHOW THAT THE TEAM HAVE TAKEN THAT A BIT TOO LITERALLY.

The 1-0 defeat at Tottenham in the Carling Cup is the only one of the last six games not to have ended in a draw and even that match stood at 0-0 after 90 minutes. Ironically, it was one of the better performances over the last month too, borne out by the fact that Tottenham goalkeeper Kasey Keller was named man of the match straight after the game, though his left post should have been credited with a hefty assist for deflecting Rob Lee’s first-half shot safely into Keller’s arms on the one occasion he was caught flapping.

There were encouraging signs at White Hart Lane though, but while there were things to admire, such as the contribution of young Matthew Kilgallon to a makeshift team, there was an interesting sideshow being played out on the touchline. First though, let me tell you a secret.

When covering matches, a press reporter can often find him (or her) self being squeezed into a seat in what feels like row 187, roughly two away from the roof, where you can just about make out the pitch between the shoulder of the security guard and the one stanchion in the ground, both of which are right in front of you.

That’s true for most Premiership grounds anyway. At White Hart Lane you sometimes feel you should have taken your kit with you. The seating for the press is immediately behind the three rows of the players’ benches, so once you’ve crow-barred yourself into your, what you get is a manager’s-eye-view of the pitch and an almost face-to-face view of the managers.

It was this sideshow, with Alan Pardew in the starring role, that caught my attention. There was not one blade of grass left in the managers’ designated zone that he hadn’t trampled over at least once during the game as he bellowed out orders, issued signals, and mimicked virtually every kick and challenge. What West Ham have been in desperate need of is somebody to stamp their authority on the squad but also to give the team a sense of purpose. Christian Dailly has already revealed that the players now face fines for anything from turning up late for training, to not dressing in a manner that the manager feels is inappropriate. Good.

It’s not all about ruling with the stick though, you need ability too, especially the nous to recognise a situation and react accordingly. The signals and motions being issued from the touchline were not only being picked up by the players, the players were responding too and connected so effectively at times that the Spurs crowd were virtually silent as the Hammers pushed forward.

At one stage, a member of the Tottenham staff (no names) raced to the touchline to draw the referee’s attention to a West Ham challenge. A word from Mr Pardew had the complainant returning rather sheepishly to the Spurs bench. With 10 minutes of extra-time remaining, the West Ham manager turned from the action as if he’d lost something. Quickly, he unravelled a spare football from a net bag and then cradled it on the touchline, ready to act as a stand-in ballboy if West Ham needed to take a swift throw-in or a free-kick with time ebbing away.

If the result of the game had depended solely on the commitment displayed by the managerial staff on both sides, it would have been no contest. As first impressions go too, there was something else I took from White Hart Lane. Managing to sneak a few words alone with West Ham’s new boss as we descended a staircase to the car park, we eventually stopped to shake hands outside in the rain, he smartly turned out in suit and club tie, me in a grey fleece jacket over a T-shirt with a black beanie hat pulled over my ears. Behind the smile I could hear him wondering where my tie was. Now that’s authority . . .