Survival Sunday: Was there anyone in the country with even the remotest interest in football who wasn't enthralled by the days events? With the excitement garnered elsewhere, the lack of even a small chance of retaining the last bit of pride left in east London was a bitter pill to swallow. I was probably more disappointed this week than I was last that West Ham couldn't even give us a last day hurrah.

I'd hoped for a decent win so that I could underline the importance of the lack of detail that has gone into this season's campaign - something I was interested to see was picked up last week by the Telegraph's Henry Winter, a couple of Mirror hacks and no lesser light than La Brady herself (Not that I'm suggesting any of them read my Soccernet blog, you understand...).

Perhaps we could point to just one loss or a dropped point here or there to convince ourselves that it could all have been so different. But the awfullness of this season was underlined by an inept capitulation, of which the only reedeming factor was the fact that we ended the campaign so adrift there wasn't even a sense of 'What If?' about it all. 3-0 at home to Sunderland says all that need be said.

Anger, frustration, disappointment, surprise - I really didn't see this coming with the players they had at their disposal - and, yes, a bit of sorrow I guess; but the main emotions I've suffered since confirmation of West Ham's relegation to the Championship following the 3-2 defeat at Wigan, is the horrible sense of resignation and ennui - and that is what hurts more than anything.

You see, I'm used to the annual roller-coaster of supporting West Ham. The exhilaration of snatching defeat from the jaws of victory, the joy of seeing young players come through the Academy and make their mark on the game before leaving for the promised land of Champions League football, exciting wins, dismal losses, bizarre decisions, crocked players, overpaid wasters, the way the unexpected becomes the expected - all these things are part of the pain and pleasure involved in supporting the Hammers. But this horrible season has even stripped me of the capacity to relish the low points. Frankly, I'm tired - so tired - of watching the people who run this club continually try to outdo themselves by shooting off their mouths while simultaneously shooting themselves in the foot.

In a classy move that just about sums up the 2010/11 season, West Ham sacked manager Avram Grant less than an hour after their 3-2 defeat at Wigan resigned them to the Championship next season.

Grant was apparently pulled out from the post-match press conference, a club spokesman returning 20 minutes later to confirm that Grant was 'no longer Manager at West Ham United'. Grant was said to be close to tears and emotional after the game saying "I'm sorry for the supporters, the people in the club and the players". Reserve team coach Kevin Keen will take over for the Hammer's last Premiership hurrah at home to Sunderland next Sunday.

"Que Sera Sera", they sang "We're going to Cov-entry". Gallows humour was at a premium at Upton Park on Saturday as West Ham stumbled through another must-win game and eventually gained a point that, in the last ten minutes, probably should have been three.

It's been an odd season all round the country, but no weirder surely than the Boleyn Ground, where the Hammers continue to frustrate and annoy as - just like last week at Manchester - the team started slowly in a 15 minute spell that allows the opposition the chance to stamp their authority on the game. West Ham seem to be content to be second best in the tackle and hope their reputation might give them what they seem to think they deserve. As John Lennon once remarked: "Strange Days Indeed!"

Ultimately this was still a defeat, I guess, but there was quite a bit to admire about West Ham's fightback in this match and there were fairly long periods where I believed a point wasn't beyond the Hammers' capabilities. Eventually though, the result was decided in the first 15 minutes with Nigel de Jong's long shot and Jacobsen's Own Goal from an excellent Zabaleta one-two that left the Hammer's full-back with little option but to clear from underneath his own bar and into the net.

It was the most inadvertant OG and, had Jacobsen left it, then the ball would have been tapped in at the far post by a lurking Balotelli, but even so for me it was Jacobsen's and not the City players goal - much as the Danish defender may not want the stat on his record!

The Football Writers' Association Footballer of the Year has been presented every year since the 1947–48 season and, despite changing times and the introduction of Player Awards that seem to have gathered more credibility over the intervening time, the fact remains that this award is the one that players used to treat seriously and the only one that contains names such as Stanley Matthews, Bobby Moore, Bobby Charlton, George Best, Thierry Henry, Kenny Dalglish and Nat Lofthouse.

It is the award from people who watch every game and have no vested interest in fads, sponsors and the televised bias of companies looking for ever-expanding viewing figures both at home and abroad.

This result flattered Chelsea and, whatever West Ham's failings - and they have a few - the usual hoodoo arrived in the shape of injures to Parker and Upson and an opposing striker who hasn't scored in an age. Take any team from Upton Park; show me a striker who hasn't found the net in years and BANG! - goal drought over. The only thing more certain is that the sun will surely come up tomorrow. West Ham? Gotta love 'em, haven't you?

Avram Grant once again tinkered with the line-up, re-introducing Freddie Sears - who inevitably put in the type of performance that questioned why he'd been left out - and recalling Spector for the injured Parker. Last week's starters were back on the bench while Gabbidon and Da Costa were the central pairing. Really it didn't look good from the off - particularly when the scorching weather being enjoyed by the rest of the country was interrupted in West London by a downpour and thunderstorm of biblical proportions turning the top surface into a skid-pan that held the ball up..

At the end of this game, decided by Gabriel Agbonlahor's injury time goal, the West Ham players slumped to the ground, looking drained and shell-shocked. This was a 'must-win' game that the Hammer's looked to have taken an undeserved point from, but Villa got the winner their play merited following a second-half mauling of the home defence in which both Ashley Young and Stuart Downing left Hammers defenders trailing in their wake in a succession of potent attacks.

The fat lady may not yet have sung for West Ham United but she is sure as hell on the podium and gargling and nothing bar another 'Great Escape' Mk II will see this season ending in smiles.

News that Benni McCarthy has left West Ham after the club 'mutually agreed' to terminate his contract will surprise and upset no-one. When someone at Upton Park described McCarthy as a 'waste of space' it was rumoured that space immediately contacted it's Solicitor about suing for defamation of character. In a time of austerity and high unemployment - something that continues to threaten someone not a million miles from this keyboard - the thought of the former South African striker taking home an obscene amount of money every week was something that stuck in the craw of, not only every West Ham fan, but anyone who has any sense of impropriety and an understanding of professionalism.

Sound like anyone we know? "... this was Bolton's seventh [now eighth] straight win over West Ham. That's seven [now eight!] and that's Bolton. It's all very well talking about bogey sides but this is not good enough and it's not good enough by a long way. Those seven defeats [now eight] won't all be down to Avram Grant, David's Gold or Sullivan, or even a good many of the players but, unless you blame the only constant - us, the fans - you have to look at other reasons."

I'm not sure if it's a done thing to go quoting yourself, but I wrote the above when Bolton beat West Ham at Upton Park at the beginning of the season and started the rot that has landed us where we are today. Silly me - I actually thought we might break the hoodoo given the importance of the game, but instead we got to sit back and admire the skills of Daniel Sturridge and suffer another chastening experience at the Reebok. I suppose we should just be thankful that bloody Kevin Davies didn't score again.