It was one of the founding fathers of America, Mr Benjamin Franklin, who wrote “a quarrelsome man has no good neighbours” and that got me thinking a little on Sunday night.
Admittedly Everton didn’t quite deserve 3 points from a challenging Merseyside Derby but the reaction and fallout from the game itself was absolutely fucking mental. Disproportionate even.
Would Benny Franks think Liverpool was the quarrelsome man and that’s why everyone around them tends to dislike them? Or is it Everton the quarrelsome neighbour and therefore attracting the no good of Liverpool in our midst on that law of attraction thing?
It was just a point taken. They’re still fuming though.
But almost beyond fuming were Manager, fans and media mouthpieces on the attack against Everton as though the denial of 3 points on Sunday was a most heinous crime. It’s not as if they got beat, or that they hadn’t pummelled us enough in recent times and had their share of dead easy points from this fixture. So why is Klopp attacking the media and presenters? Why is the salt content of big red’s fan base enough to restock the ocean?
The penalty could easily be argued either way and therefore there’s sufficient doubt against it to merit the reward of their player clumsily pushing ours over in the box. Three Liverpool shots on goal to Everton’s two shots hints at profligacy. A well contested game of differing strategies without red cards is a fair environment for teams to compete.
Is this the entitlement and absence of sportsmanship that pretty much everyone else’s fans berate Liverpoolfubbelklub for? If so then we should do it all again in a couple of weeks in the cup. Suppose it’s dead easy to be all gracious lashing platitudes about when you’re snotting teams for fun.
The kopites taunt us that we will never be them and know how it feels, and it turns out they’re entirely accurate about it. Nor would we want to be. Can’t wait to do it all over again in a few weeks and compare any differing outcomes and reactions to it, lest all the above rings true.
So from one set of fans with seeming overinflated sense of worth, acute collective size anxieties and cringey fanbase behaviour, is it really possible to level up on this shit?
Newcastle United have so many parallels with Liverpool that Evertonians are naturally going to have a propensity for mocking them. At least in the kopites cause they did actually used to win a shed load of stuff so you can understand a little bit the mindset of the older ones alive that witnessed those days.
Newcastle can’t boast such a claim. The UK has entered and is soon to exit the European Union without Newcastle ever needing any sort of justified open top bus to grace it’s streets from its “hallowed” football club. The internet that allows me to post these words was not even an idea in one human being’s head the last time Newcastle won a meaningful trophy. Nor had human footprints troubled that big white disc that sits in our night time sky.
Sure you’ll get numerous justification shouts on how BIG a club they are based on attendance figures for a one club city. And how consistent those attendance figures are, showing WOR MASSIVE support. Whatever makes them sleep better at night and let’s not mention that during the 1960s, 70s, 80s and 1990s not once did Newcastle ever manage an average attendance that was superior to Everton’s average attendance last season. A few 16,000 averages in there too. Maybe I shouldn’t let facts get in the way of a good myth and not begrudge them finding some way of justifying not winning trophies for nearly half a century yet maintaining that beloved MASSIVE status of theirs.
I mean who wants to be champions of their country? You seen all the shit they try to project onto Sunderland? Sunderland 6 titles and 4 times runners up. Newcastle 4 titles and 2 times runners up. And fuck me them two occasions as runners up got dined upon as though football itself was reinvented, while they deep throated the media’s cock every day, desperate for the mantle of “everyone’s favourite second team” to appease their fragile self confidence. Then promptly disappeared again into a yo yo existence. But not before they chased out the second greatest manager ever to come from the North East** in Bobby Robson because their tastes are so specific and their entitlement so high. They did however chase out Sam Allardyce so pioneered something over Everton at least.
** the greatest manager from the north east came from Ryton, but you knew that.
The half Scottish shitehawks are nothing but an annoyance. There’s a plethora of needy attention seeking behaviour that’s perfectly aligned with Lad Bible, YNFA, Soccer AM and every other bellend you go out of your way to avoid for celebrating the game too over enthusiastically. The set of fans that have a tradition of going to their last away game in fancy dress without knowing why. The type you can hear before you see, with an accent that sounds like a cage full of guinea pigs smacked off their tits on cane sugar. Hair produce all over the shop. Ripped jeans and blazers on a night out. Enforced charisma so shallow that a manta ray wouldn’t get its eyes wet in it.
Their womenfolk are fantastic however and this is why we go easy on them. In fact continuing the plaudits they’re usually alright if you keep them away from other geordies and the conversation steered away from football, or any sort of complicated debate. Not forgetting quick to wit and a fellow appreciator of unfair insults. I genuinely hope a massive supervolcano opens unexpectedly underneath the city and lavas the fuck out of them all. Then as the crust is forming the Scots reclaim their land and settle it to vote Jeremy Corbyn, with any remaining geordies systematically brainwashed and herded as lesser creatures until one day an intuitive distant offspring breaks down on a beach to his knees crying “DAMN YOU ALL TO HELL” at a rusty green piece of bridge protruding from the sand. Or flickering neon Sports Direct sign.
That fat Spanish biff is their manager and for this reason they simply must be beat. Send that buffet endangering shithouse back to the Wirral and blow the fucking tunnels with dynamite lest he try and creep back over our side to lash cheap platitudes at the pocket pissers for cardinal fancy dress homage, the weird, weird fucks. You can see why he was a natural fit for Newcastle though. Same anus, different turd.
Can’t be arsed previewing their players but their squad contains that little shit Power Ranger Christian Atsu and also that complete fuck-knuckle Shelvey.
Genuinely no idea how Allardyce will line up Everton for this as there’s some sort of variables. There are a few after the derby performance who will likely sit this one out, like Niasse, Davies etc. Will there be an opportunity for some fresh legs and formation just 3 days after a punishing 90 minute focus at Anfield? The answers to which will be revealed about an hour before kick off and the merits of it pondered by tactical minds amongst many of you much more astute than I.
All that matters is that this delicate renaissance of sorts isn’t torpedoed too soon. We’re in dire need to keep picking up points under the radar for the sake of our season and sanity of fans.
Newcastle are itching for the points as they’re on a shite run themselves and in a vulnerable position with it being their return to the Premier League. Benitez can’t afford to leave this game without at least a point so it could turn into one almighty cat fight. Or a shit nil nil. Who’s to know? Everton certainly don’t have an entitlement for anything out of this.
And we’re back almost to where we started. Benjamin Franklin also said “Either write something worth reading or do something worth writing”. Point taken.
Here’s to more point taking.