Half time: Hammers 0 Magpies 0

47mins: Kieron Dyer's centre was finished off by Gary Speed. 1-0

60mins: Home substitute Paolo Wanchope headed home 1-1

89 mins: Wanchope netted again, taking Di Canio's pass, turning and firing in. 1-2  

Full time: Hammers 2 Magpies 1

Bobby Robson:

To follow

'Arry Redknapp:

To follow 

90 minutes in 100 words: 

Newcastle played like warriors for the opening 45 minutes and should have scored at least two, with the home side never in it as Bobby's side gave their best away performance of the season. 

However, they scored too early in the second half, relaxed and then had to re-form when Nicos Dabizas limped off. Kieron Dyer got crocked and faded, and Nolberto Solano just disappeared. 

Paolo Wanchope came on and perked up a quiet home crowd and team, soon finding an equaliser. The visitors went badly missing in midfield but a point still looked likely until a late Hammers winner.

At this point, I must confess that I'm so p****d off with another late capitulation by Newcastle after Sunday's Wembley defeat that my honest assessment of the evening would be opening a window on the soul - something that would neither be enjoyable or educational.

So, although in the away end here tonight, I'll keep my deranged ramblings private for once. Instead, here's someone else with fresh eyes (although sticking to the no-relevance rule of waffle).

NB: Toon watchers should not be offended by these totally unprompted impressions from an Aussie who'd never been to football before and paid £31 to sit in the rain and watch us hoy it away. Again. 

And before Mr P.Edantic of Coxhoe writes, he didn't take the ticket of a loyal supporter, because not enough of them bothered to show up to fill our section. Therefore he made our following look less bad, in a twisted way of thinking.....

"T'was a wee shite nite in London's east end to watch football but nevertheless, being a football virgin, tonite was me nite to go all da wey.

Neill and I met other Newcastle fans for a few cheeky beers at The Good Samaritan in Whitechapel (For those of you who have not been to Whitechapel, the monopoly board sums it up - don't buy, its worth f*ck all, and you certainly wouldn't put property on it!) 

But Newcastle United's die-hard fans gathered there before every West Ham game. We grabbed a round of beers and met the lads. At my end of the table I was fortunate enough to sit in between Newcastle's intellectual elite, Neill and another guy whose name escapes me, but is an accountant (Andy).

Looking back now and comparing Neill and the bean counter to the rest of the Newcastle fans at the match, I'm convinced that these are the only two Geordies that have escaped the clutches of the northern toon with any form of education, much less a degree. At the other end of the table was Michael, a large and passionate man that dominated conversation with his vast knowledge of the club. I quickly tuned out of this conversation due to the unavailability of subtitles.

We arrived at the ground with minutes to spare and found our seats. Neill proceeded to shake the hand of every other Geordie around us wearing the familiar black and white strip. I was sceptical if a game with three conversions in 90 minutes would hold my attention (considering I'm used to a game in which the score line usually resembles Carlton 15-12 102 df Collingwood 10-8 68) but surprisingly it did.

What did hold my attention was the mantra of the fans.

We sang this one: "Geordie boys, we are here, Shag your daughters, drink your beer.

and:

We are the Geordies, the cock of the North, We hate the Sunderland and Boro of course, We all drink Whisky and Newcastle Brown, The Geordie boys are in Town.

and:

We are the Geordies, the Geordie Boot Boys and we are mental, and we are mad, we are the loyalest, football supporters, the World has ever had. We are the Geordies......ad infinitum.

And plenty of this one:

Black n White army.....toon toon ....Black n White army....toon toon

I left the match with a voice that was hoarse, toes that needed defrosting and in desperate need of a shower to clean the saliva from the back of my head courtesy of the 'Sad Cockney' who sat behind me and spoke another language (I don't think they have speech therapists in Newcastle).

Unfortunately I didn't leave with a win, as it was 2-1 in favour of the home team, but if I'm going to support Newcastle, I may as well get used to losing. A bit like following Collingwood really.

Toon toon toon toon.

Danny Peters