Back once again. No renegade masters, just a dickhead off the internet spouting lazy clichés for the amusement of the masses. Let’s read on shall we?
01.11.15 Sunderland (h)
Well that was more like it. Sunderland were treated like the slightly larger lassie with the funny eyes, picked up at 3am outside Corfu Kebabs. Fucked relentlessly and forgotten immediately afterwards. Until the itch starts. Wait, what? Anyway, swerve all that. With Barkley, Lukaku, Deulofeu and Mirallas, the tools are there to hand out some real twattings this season but the hero of the piece came in unlikely form with Arouna Kone, the peroxide Pele netting Everton’s second hat trick of the season.
Oviedo started in place of Galloway at full back and Kone came in for Lennon to add firepower to a forward line with only two goals in the last three games. Funes Mori replaced the injured Jagielka. Once again, a really slow start saw the Black Cats rattle the woodwork twice inside 15 minutes. Deulofeu settled an edgy crowd on 19 minutes. After being sent clean through, the mercurial Spaniard checked back and despatched a neat finish through the legs of the big galoot in nets. Kone doubled the lead soon after with a ripping left footer after a neat one two with Lukaku.
There began a period of Chernobyl defending that saw Defoe score a cracking volley after Stones hesitated with a long ball right on half time. Minutes after the break and Steven Fletcher, with his beard that could home several woodland creatures, headed home inside the six yard box, blotting the copybook of Funes Mori who was otherwise excellent. Fuck off Everton.
After that, the tempo was turned up and a scintillating display of counter attacking football orchestrated by Wee Ged Dele saw four goals in twenty odd minutes as Sunderland’s woeful defence was torn apart. A vicious cross from Deulofeu looked destined for Lukaku’s head until the outstretched boot of Coates flicked the ball past the helpless keeper. Then Geri provided the assist of the season with a perfectly weighted through ball from deep in his own half. Rom latched on, did the shuffly feet thing and slotted into an unguarded net.
A swift counter attack involving Barkley, McCarthy and Deulofeu ripped up the park and the camel whisperer clipped a neat left footer into the far corner. There then followed a three minute spell of one touch passing involving fully eight of the outfield players where the hapless Wearsiders couldn’t even get a touch. Magic. An excellent team performance was rounded off with a Ronaldinho-esque outside of the boot cross from Rom landed on those beautiful blonde curls and Arouna did the rest. Everton’s the team that plays beautiful football.
A great win and a real chance to kick on with a real winning run. Here’s what you made of it in seven succinct words.
@JackWebster: seen yer da thought we wouldn’t win
@scousemouse1982: wet my fucking knickers. Fuck off Howard
@SFXCVII: First Naismith, now Kone? Worlds fucked lad
@The_Ghana: Why don’t you write your own shit
@Donners82: That was the tribute Howard Kendall deserved
07.11.15 West Ham (a)
Everton’s last ever trip to Upton Park (be arsed with that Boleyn Ground nonsense) before the ‘Ammers move to their taxpayer funded Olympic Stadium, complete with free corner flags, free jellied eel sellers, free window cleaning and a free statue of notorious Bogota pickpocket, Bobby Moore. Or something. Only change to the Sunderland line up saw Galloway replace Oviedo at left back.
The boys in blue, well white with funny grey hoops on the sleeves, started slowly and West Ham had several early chances that they failed to capitalise on. On the half hour, Manuel Lanzini put the Londoners in front with a beautiful curling effort after the ball broke to him at the edge of the box. This was the seventh time Everton had conceded the first goal in our last eight matches. Something that drastically needs to change if any sort of challenge for European places is to be on the cards.
Approaching half time and looking all out of sorts, Martinez’s team talk was completely turned on its head. For the second week running, Deulofeu played the sort of defence splitting through ball that could impregnate the Virgin Mary, Lukaku latched on, rounded the keeper and did that thing where he slots and looks dead fucking happy about it. Beautiful twat. That’s now seven games in a row for Everton against West Ham where the big man has netted, a feat that equals the club record of Dixie Dean. Apparently he’s dead lazy though….
Second half and the blues were much the better team. There was fight and hunger all over the park and several robust challenges that ruffled the feathers of the seedy old porn baron and that square faced tory bint off the apprentice that run West Ham. The most notable of which was a firm but fair tackle from McCarthy on the excellent Payet, who tried to play on for a full twenty minutes before eventually being replaced. He’ll now miss three months and the resulting seethe from West Ham fans on social media was, well frankly, it was fucking delicious.
Everton pressed hardest for a winner and none was forthcoming, although admittedly, on balance a draw was a fair result. We’re in not a bad position overall, could be worse, could be better, but now really is the time to push on and start winning games back to back. Here’s what you lot thought in seven worded poetry.
@carrotstick2: James McCarthy makes cockneys fume, fantastic scenes
@graemeedwards79: play Gerry through the middle please Roberto
@robnolan76: Only play football when we go behind
@ijjysmith: apples and pears, trouble and strife. Banter.
@mattyredmond: geri’s through ball was absolute utter filth
International football is still hideously shite.
21.11.15 Aston Villa (h)
It’s been coming. About bloody time too. The perfect home performance coupled with the visitors being absolutely woeful resulted in Villa being beaten like a ginger stepchild. I won’t be overly harsh on them because a good mate is a Villa fan but you honestly can’t see them staying up, can you?
Everton started brightly and looked more dangerous on the right wing than Oswald Mosley with a plank with a nail in it. Inside the first 15 minutes, Guzan pulled off two wonderful saves to deny Coleman and Kone, as Guinness a combination that Everton can muster. The resilience lasted only another minute or so though as yet another Guzan saved dropped to the feet of Ross Barkley and the Wavertree diamond made no mistake from six yards.
On the half hour, the lead was doubled as Lukaku met a dinked Coleman cross and cleverly guided his header across goal and into the far corner for his 50th Premier League goal. In reaching this landmark before his 23rd birthday, he joins a very select group with Robbie Fowler, Cristiano Ronaldo, Wayne Rooney and Michael Owen. An elite group and believe me, Rom belongs there.
The game was finished as a contest on the verge of half time as Kone danced through the Villa defence, saw his first effort saved but managed to poke the ball to the feet of Barkley and the England international steered home for his second of the afternoon and fifth league goal of the season. He was heavily involved in Everton’s fourth as well on the hour mark. Stones brought the ball out from the back and fed the ball to Deulofeu. The young Catalan who spent his entire afternoon tormenting Kieran Richardson like an Outback farmer toying with a startled backpacker, drove purposefully into the Villa half and played a driven ball into the feet of Barkley whose first touch flick landed in the path of Lukaku who rounded off the move with an excellent clipped finish over the hapless Guzan.
The blues seem to be putting a bit of form together now but need to keep winning games and winning them in style is always nice. No seven word summaries this week as I’m taking an extended break from social media so just swear a bit and call Geri boss and you’ll be about there.
28.11.15 Bournemouth (a)
Goals. Lots of goals. Great goals and scrappy goals but goals all the same. Everton’s first ever league visit to Bournemouth saw another six but unfortunately, half of them went to the hosts, meaning there still haven’t been back to back wins this season, thirteen games in. As inconsistent as a gravel milkshake. Whatever the fuck that means. An unchanged starting eleven and bench from the demolition of the woeful Villa, Baines not considered fit enough to come back in.
The elusive consecutive victory seemed on the cards after the perfect first half performance. Dominant on the ball, passing crisply and Deulofeu a constant menace down the right. The youngster really is showing the sort of form that will result in Barcelona taking him back for next to fuck all and breaking blue hearts in the process. A Barkley corner found the head of Funes Mori who powered his header into the far corner to break the deadlock. Looked dead happy about it too. The boss twat. Soon after, the lead was doubled and it was the familiar combination of a threaded Deulofeu cross and a powerful composed finish from Lukaku. Eight in eight for the big Belgian.
To their credit, Bournemouth came out strongly after the interval, and looked every inch a side scrapping for their Premier League survival, even at this early stage. None of the capitulation of last week. A stinging drive from some fella that plays right back gave them a sniff of a result and they were level after a foolish Barry foul in midfield was followed by a quickly taken free kick, a low driven cross and a Junior Stanislas scrambled finish past a helpless Howard. With the last kick of the allotted five minutes of injury time, Ross Barkley found the ball at his feet, turned and hooked a vicious shot past the subby keeper. Cue pitch invasion, and much relief. Ah Everton, how you taunt us, you cruel, cruel bastards. An extra three minutes was found from nowhere, Bournemouth surged forward and Stanislas netted again. Twat.
You can’t really begrudge Bournemouth a point as they were the better side after the break but naivety cost us big time in the end. A month unbeaten, two big home wins and two away draws, although it could easily have been a perfect four from four with a bit more of a clinical edge and a nous to see out games.
The social media blackout goes on but you’ll still be able to read my rambling, ranting shite, exclusively live* on Everton Aren’t We. Until December, adios hermanos x