Preamble In mechanics, momentum is the product of an object's mass and velocity, apparently. But in life, it's all a little bit different, variously the product of apparent chance, a perfectly-timed toilet visit, well-aimed state-altering or simply being a different person.
Nor is its nature all that obvious in sport, particularly those of the team variety. It turns up, it leaves, it hints and it evaporates, frequently without warning or expectation.
Less than a month ago, Chelsea were momentum skint. The manager was complaining, the fans were complaining and the players were marking time. Then, out of nowhere, they beat West Brom, fought back at Old Trafford and ultimately outclassed Steaua, and suddenly there it was, as though there's nothing more to it than finally arranging a squad's best players into a team.
West Ham, on the other hand, are still desperately seeking. They're longest winning sequence of games is one, they've lost to Reading, Villa, Wigan and Sunderland, and though they managed a victory last time out, their following fixture was postponed because of the Cup. Lying twelfth in the table, they've only three points more than Villa in seventeenth, so will be ganting on scrounging a result here, because if they do, they can can off the search and spent the rest of the season locating the far less well camouflaged and far more user-friendly inertia.
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