Oh woe is Everton.
It’s one of them periods where it’s better to swerve Everton thoughts during the week between games. It’s a metaphorical shell that perhaps you wear too often – or are fond of pizza and have an oversized rat for a sensei – as following the Partisan Walton shithouses brings prolonged spell of melancholy.
Nothing will be the same though, except it fucking is, and they can fuck off with those marketing campaigns and instead market season tickets more accurately instead as valued time away from your other half and an excuse to visit a few pubs and swing your limbs in ecstasy/relief like a weirdo occasionally when Everton do stuff you wish that they’d do more consistently.
But then who the fuck am I to even guess your relationship with Everton?
Just one win in over two months has sucked any early season optimism out of the all new Everton, and whilst there’s many facets to why the deflation has occurred there’s one central, fundamental failure for me and that’s employing too many not quite good enoughs and a smattering of shithouses.
Swansea was shit. No other analysis needed, you’ve torn the bones apart from it already. So let’s move on.
Oh that’ll do. When in times of overbearing gloom it’s always a good idea to seek a common scapegoat to deflect frustration on and hopefully generate resolute defiance and thus curtail any discontent which could destabilise your status quo. Russia being a good example with a not very well documented economical disaster beseeching them and them scrambling to generate anti western sentiment (good luck to them too) over border disputes, dubious land reclaim and Syria. Everton can do a weird version of this with forthcoming fixtures against some utter twats of clubs.
Not that this makes Southampton in any way relevant by supposed rivalry. You see there is no rivalry between Southampton and Everton and likely never will be. They’ve won fuck all and are a boil on the arse that you only feel when they touch you in proximity. A cultureless, grey civic centre that happens to be on the sea so they built a marina and a cruise ship terminal. Which is sound but why the fuck would anyone want to visit Southampton? Well, other than taking a trek down through a degeneration of human and fashion devolution to arrive thirty years behind present day in a big fuck off edition of the Inbetweeners v Green Street.
It’s the type of shitty little town that because of its irrelevance has to work hard to bring attention to itself by common beaut behaviour. When you see people text in the BBC on the live text you’re keeping an eye on and it’s cringey as fuck #bantz, or a way overdramatic summarisation of an innocuous sporting event then there’s a good chance they’re from Southampton. An array of haircuts on one head, stonewashed jeans, a TK Maxx Stone Island jacket while putting a shot of jaeger in a pint at the bar in Wetherspoons? Check they’re from Southampton. A fat balding insecure scruff telling the barman in Linekers in Tenerife of how he took on Millwall in 1986 and showing aforementioned barman a scar of a hernia op/stab mark? Southampton that.
Rather beautifully they fell into the same trap as an alarmingly growing list of others of thinking they could look down their nose at Everton because they managed a season too above us in the league but winning absolutely fuck all.
And then we went and took their best ever Manager with utter ease. It was in fact fucking frightening how we flashed a hint of thong and he was booty calling us outside our house at 3am.
Because we’re Everton, and they’re Southampton. That’s why.
Naturally they’re so not arsed. Make no mistake you’re gonna see some hostility towards Koeman, with his face like an obnoxious marshmallow, from fat Dads in replica tops one size too small. In a ground that is dull and could be anywhere. Even in Southampton, the pointless fucks.
How did Southampton vote in the referendum? You guessed it, they vote out like fuck. Out because small dull English towns fucking hate anyone different apart from scruffy, stupid, white Tory voting fucks.
Here’s a list of some of their players as they’re playing us in football:
Charlie Austin – his wife made me look a right fucking tit when I made a snide comment on social so he’s alright by me.
Redmond – a cracking little player
Jay Rodriguez – he played for England but I’m not sure what he does, maybe he’s a more palatable Kevin Kilbane?
Davis – every second angry little tit you see propping the bar in any pub outside Belfast city centre
Van Dijk – boss defender who still has Koeman on whatsapp but looks like he should hang around with a scouser and a hologram lad with H on his forehead.
Forster – has a bus shelter for a forehead, his face never gets wet.
That apart, they’re pretty much the same as anyone else and have a competent side that will probably beat us and ruin your Sunday evening.
And that’s about it. I’ve got to fit Everton in.
Lukaku is boss when he’s scoring but sometimes shit when the game is turd and he can’t get into it, or genuinely can’t be arsed. Barkley – it got missed by many that he played pretty well v Swansea so he will probably start again. Bolasie will start and is very much a one in five player with the one being sublime and the four being like a steroided Peter Beagrie has come to the future to give us a warning not to sign the aforementioned shit bastard in 1989. There’ll be some other winger playing but I don’t give much of a fuck as they’re mostly underwhelming right now whoever starts out wide.
Barry and Gueye are eligible to start which is sound but we need to start worrying about what we are going to do when Barry does eventually fade out.
Jagielka is having a shitter of a season but I’m not ready to label him as finished based on the same teds screaming the same thing at Barry two seasons ago. Williams is winning less tackles, headers and passes I believe but giving away less penalties in fairness, but that’s sound as he’s new and everyone is bored of Jagielka at the back now. He’s like dated wallpaper in your Nan’s front room. Baines at left back and Coleman on the right. Stekelenburg in the middle.
And I can’t wait to finish these words, as I’m sure you can’t either, suckers.
Right into these Everton.