Only a few seconds of the afternoon remained when Yohan Cabaye lined up the free-kick; left of the goal, 20 yards out, with a wall strung hopefully in front of him.

He struck it the way good players do, with pace and swerve and chilling accuracy. And as the ball tore inside the near post, he turned to accept the ovation his performance deserved.

By far the brightest talent on view, Cabaye had ensured that class would prevail, that a side of passers and movers would overcome a team of toilers and chasers.

The fact that Newcastle’s victory was not confirmed until the fourth minute of added time says everything about their own profligate finishing and West Ham’s frenzied yet unavailing efforts to bridge the yawning gap in ability.

The ferocity of those efforts was the reason why the reaction of the home fans was decently restrained. Of late, Upton Park has been resounding to a mixture of Bubbles and boos but, while the fans cursed the ineptitude, they endorsed the spirit.

When they reflected on the fifth Premier League defeat in six games, they will surely have recognised that spirit alone will not keep them afloat. They are now in the relegation zone once again and escape will require a genuine transformation.

Newcastle came into the match with problems of their own, having lost their last four matches in all competitions. Yet their first-half performance yielded not a hint of insecurity.

At times, their imagination was sublime, their accuracy a thing of wonder. Inspired by the wonderfully influential Cabaye, given security by Cheick Tiote and point by Loic Remy, they played their football in beguiling triangles; flitting into telling space, working the ball, reducing West Ham to a bewildered scamper.

Had Remy taken the simplest of chances in the eighth minute, they would have been given the start their superiority deserved. But the goal they scored in 15 minutes said everything about their football. Yoan Gouffran advanced smoothly, Cabaye found himself space in the area and nobody offered a serious challenge as he daintily adjusted his feet before passing the chance inside the post. It was almost contemptuous in its calculation, a man conducting a tutorial.

By now, Newcastle were simply passing West Ham to pieces and, in 23 minutes, Cabaye provided Moussa Sissoko with the pass which should have brought reward. Instead, the ball died against the keeper Adrian and they were forced to wait for a further nine minutes before an air of reality was restored to the situation.

Once again, the goal was almost too simple, with more deft passing allowing Sissoko to strike a cross from the right. Remy was allowed absurd time to collect, control and nudge in the scoring shot. And the displeasure of the fans started to seethe from the stands named after Bobby Moore and Sir Trevor Brooking, the ancient gods of Upton Park.

Pardew was preparing the easiest half-time oration he would ever have given, while Sam Allardyce was wearing that anguished expression last seen on the face of the late Les Dawson when a joke misfired. But a goal out of the claret-and-blue arrived in the second minute of added time and suddenly the match was intriguingly alive.

Razvan Rat battered another ball hopefully high into the box and Carlton Cole gave chase. Mike Williamson opposed the surge with muscular intent, but the ball came loose and bobbled over the line off Williamson’s body. ‘We’d played so well,’ said Pardew. ‘To concede then was really bad.’

The upshot was that West Ham began to believe they could rise above their patent limitations. They sent on Ravel Morrison for Jack Collison at the start of the second half and began to ask questions with the urgency of their approach.

Had they found the goal to complement their effort, then anything might have happened. But the calamity of the 55th minute was to prove costly. Matt Taylor started the move deep on the right, surged forward for the return, played a perfect low, curling cross and Carlton Cole ran in to make the worst miss of the match — possibly of the month.

Seven minutes later, Allardyce reached for his nuclear option and Andy Carroll came bustling off the bench. In less stressful times, he would not be close to the first team after his protracted absence, but on he came to bump into a few people, win a few headers and miss a chance which was almost as easy as Cole’s had been.

He also conceded the clumsy free-kick which allowed Cabaye to end the affair. Only a desperate manager could consider using him, but Allardyce’s desperation is now obvious.

He recited the now familiar injury list, bemoaned his failure to sign players in the window and informed us that ‘it’s not about perfromanes any more, it’s about results’.

The idea that West Ham’s game has ever been about ‘performances’ was a novel one. But at least he was right about those results. Their need is more pressing than ever.

—Daily Mail