Atalanta v Everton Preview

So the Thursday night thing begins for real.

Everton are well accustomed to this competition over the last decade and while there’s been some good results it’s largely been used as a blag for flexi days off with your mates drinking your own bodyweight in glorious continental beer. Or being CS gassed by the French police, whatever floats your boat really.

 

 

Tell you what would float my boat, Everton finding their bollocks and playing like a cohesive team who put their foot in, that would ensure high fucking tide on my boat. Nothing more to say on that Spurs game except it was poor and clueless as I’ve seen any Everton team for the past quarter century, and the competition for that mantel is high. Hoping for it being an odious blip here.

The Europa ball pickers put us in a twat of a group but the reality is that the others in that group will be sizing up Everton and thinking the same. Little do they know we’re shite at the moment so we just have to pretend we’re a well oiled outfit and dead savvy on Thursday nights and hope they shit themselves as we used to v teams like Metalist and Dynamo Bucharest. It’s a flawed strategy but what else we gonna do? Play it wide? Hit them with our pace? Out muscle them on set pieces? Exactly man.

 

 

An acute danger in Europa League is when you draw a team you haven’t heard of and have to write a preview about, which is exactly what has happened here. So what can I tell you about Atalanta? Fuck all really. There’s plenty of previews about with lads who have Euro togger satellite packages and a great appreciation of foreign players. Go read them for insight. I’ll try to sabotage the next few paragraphs with Brexit standard lazy stereotypes instead.

What I can tell you though is what utter shithouses this Atalanta team are and how the hideous fucking snakes are chocka full of latin cheats who are gonna “gamesmanship” the fuck out of us if we meekly plod round the pitch as we did against Spurs and Chelsea. Put a half arsed tackle in? Some fucking winger with a boss surname is rolling round in what looks like ultimate agony and his mates with hairbands are surrounding the ref holding imaginary cards in the air. Challenging for a 50/50 ball on the blindside of the ref? They’re going right through your achilles, mate. Defending the edge of our own box without anything less than crushing and resolute aggression? Their South American playmaker has just megged your centre half and their sweaty fucking striker is already celebrating with their ultras holding your boxies in the air, sneering at the stupid English pigdogs.

 

 

They’re eyeing up any bird you ever loved. Every fucking single one of them, your daughters too. They’re the hotel entertainers in that shite 3 star all inclusive in the Dominican offering to teach your bird how to salsa dance so they can rub their impressive cock against the crotch of your bird. When you turn your back they’re trying to get her to go the disco with them later. He’s there pissing himself laughing at you to his mates as your sunburnt shoulders are all red and he’s olive as fuck in a pair of tight swimming shorts, the bad Atalanta shithead. That lad driving too close to your rear bumper? He’s Atalanta mate. The cholesterol in your food that’s gonna heart attack you before you get to marry your children off? It’s fucking Atalanta cholesterol.

Atalanta got better Christmas clothes than you as a kid, it’s a fact that every kid in Atalanta gets full clobber from Gansgear for Lent too. Clothes for Lent? Fuck off. While me mar was saving Embassy Focus Points to get me a fucking haircut they’re all bouncing round in Adidas Kick and Gallini pull over your head tops. Tremendous hair too. While you go to work and graft an honest week’s 40 hours all these Atalanta sponges are sat around in cafes smoking your EU money and drinking sensational coffee. Atalanta only talking sound about us in the build up because they are after shithousing six easy points from us without us feeling bad about how they cheat us out of it. Like the bin men knocking on your door and wishing Happy Christmas, don’t fall for this shit Everton. It’s a fucking outrage all things told.

 

 

I’m not having any of this and I hope that Everton are the same. It’s a fucking disgrace. They’re even making us play two hours away from our ground to disrespect us on how much they can’t be arsed being our host.

So fuck all this feeling sorry for ourselves getting bummed in the past two games. I want to see nothing more than nuclear on their chino and no socks arses. Right from the off. Tell them what they are in the tunnel Everton, they’re laughing their fucking heads off at us. Like fuck I’m doing a list of their players, the utter nomarks can do one.

So onto Everton then.

 

 

Remember when we used to be a goal threat up front? I’m not one for flippant reactions to two defeats against first and second in the league last season but we do look nothing less than dogshit up front. We look like a team of newly signed players being thrown in to justify spending on them. Sack this right off and choose a team in their right positions that can deliver something, anything. In that equation it’s probably going to need Calvert-Lewin up front if you’re playing a 3 up there and someone out of Rooney, Sigurdsson, Ramirez is gonna have to be titty lipped on the bench. If they aren’t producing goals or at least running round like a mad twat bumping into opposition defenders then they can get to fuck at the moment.

Midfield is similar, and not helped by Schneiderlin being hideously out of form. No bigger lover of the tall sleek Gallic sexpasser than me but he needs dropping until he can remember how to play the ace soccers again. Same goes for any of them and I fully expect Koeman will be trying out a few different personnel and shape changes there until he finds one that works. Because it’s needed.

Yeah and that defence. Too easy to single out scapegoats but Martina looks to have a bigger blind spot on his right hand side than the Popemobile trailering a caravan through North Wales coastal roads. Ashley “Ash” Williams getting repeatedly assaulted by Harry Kane’s back didn’t inspire me too much either. He got the Euro 2016 semis though lar. I don’t give a fuck, get me 4 or 5 of them at the back that doesn’t resemble Everton defending in the 90s every time we play someone who has half a fucking clue up top. Presume Pickford will be in goal, unless Ronko does something mad like play Stekelenburg there because he thinks Everton are good enough to have two teams to rotate, when we don’t even have one at present.

The thick end of £150m to be worse than last season? Fuck right off.

 

 

Putting it all down on screen has been somewhat therapeutic to me however, as I’ve been holding onto that since Saturday. I just pressed backwards on my browser and thought I’d lost it all too. It’s been that type of week.

Only Everton can make you feel this way. On we march. Oh the glory, the European glory.

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