Oh great. That post-40-point-end-of-season-ambivalence we’d been enjoying is to be interrupted.
It has to happen because it’s there – on the fixture list – and there’s no snow forecast, no alien invasion, no World War to save us. It can’t be put off. A wise Greek called Aeschylus once said “there’s no avoidance in delay”.
So get it over and fucking done with then.
Maybe that’s part of the problem, that mindset and defeatist attitude amongst many of us. I’d counter that by saying they’ve got much better players than us and spare the odd season or two in the last 30 years that’s been the case, which is easy when you have the equivalent of a small African country’s GDP to spend on new players. We’ve tried that in the last calendar year and it’s made us even shitter.
Man City is a common theme for both of the Merseyside clubs this week. On Saturday the sky blues came to Goodison and put on an exhibition of football where they sexed Everton classily off their own field. A few days later they went to Anfield where they got absolutely terrored on and off the pitch (a wee bit about that later) and look like they’re being bowled clean out of the Champions League.
Was City that good, or was Everton that bad? Probably a bit of both. By comparison in this round-robin of games we will have the yardstick of Liverpool this weekend as a further reference point.
Take the rivalry out of the game and it’s a tough one. Liverpool come to Goodison in third place in the table, and with a talented attacking team chasing further points for a high as possible finish. Then throw in the pace and verve they have in the final third and their inherent confidence that somehow they will find a way to beat/twat Everton, or if not then Everton will shit it to them on a plate anyhow.
Even as a neutral football fan it’s increasingly easy to dislike Liverpool of late and one Brucie bonus has been since Dalglish lept into defence of the racist Suarez it’s like a massive mask has slipped from the previously well eulogised L’Montange d’piss hordes in the wider game. Other fans recoiled as that famous “not one step back lad” refusal of accountability prevailed, and persisted in other events since. For Evertonians it’s been mildly reassuring that it’s just not us who sees it any more.
The coach greeting of City this week was the latest installment where hundreds of adults somehow thought it was a good idea to forfeit another pre match beer or two and instead wait for a bus to arrive to sing dead loud at it, let out smoke bombs, throw missiles at said bus and generally act a bit over excitable and hostile. They’re the kid too easily influenced by VHS tapes. The one practising their crane kick in the middle of the estate after first watch of Karate Kid.
It’s genuinely mad to me that you’d swerve that beer to go and wave an iPad at someone else’s coach to pretend you’re a circa 1990s Galatasaray fan thinking that’s an enjoyable or necessary part of pre match ritual. But there’s little original about them, a mish mash of stuff they seen others doing and then replicated – and mostly for the attention from it. A footballing Katie Hopkins if you will. It’s the most acute case of collective A.D.D. that the planet has witnessed. Fear not though there’s the loyal many in the media absolutely gagging to narrate it into something else, almost on a spiritual level that us mere mortals can’t understand. PASSHUN LAD, no lads, you just look needy shitheads but crack on if that’s your thing.
Obviously the bottles lashed at the bus was a bit rum and it’s been a pleasant side story pushing it on them and watching how they are most uncomfortable at dealing with it. In such circumstances this provokes your average kopite into severe ‘whataboutism’ where they look to deflect into the gullies slicker than Lara in his pomp. I seen the Everton lad throwing digs with his kid in his arm used for this purpose in the past day or two. Cult is thrown about liberally but there’s some truth in it as the vast majority of them are incapable of condemning their own behaving badly. Compare this with Evertonians who can’t fucking wait to lay the boot in, figuratively, to the different behaviours and viewpoints of their fellow blues in the fanbase.
Speak out against the soldiers of Shank’s socialism and no matter where you are on the internet you’ll have their “AHAHAA lad yer heads fallin off you’re a nonce yano” posse ready to semantic you into submission, which once completed they can return to designing obscure statements on bedsheets, talking about the latest adidas footwear and appraising their latest 8/10 as the best in their position in the league/Europe/the world. As well as the most edgiest comments you’ll find on any platform, ever. Like little insecure unconvincing Deadpools.
It’s all round dead fucking weird but point of order here I don’t hate them. They’re plenty of my family and mates who I love deeply. They chat absolute bilge when you bring up football or put them around 2 or more kopites, or a pub TV, but I can’t hate them. Apart from the out of town ones like.
The out of town ones are in a peculiar position of being aware that the local fans generally don’t like them or want them around, as beautiful highlighted by Derry (lad) Matthews crying in a pair of tickets for the midweek game. Yet these foreign reds have – in their verging on mental breakdown minds – answered the calling of the big red. They want the association, they want to hold a half and half over their heads getting the words wrong to YNWA and nothing can stop them. The influencers in the media, the paragons of ethics like (the current suspended) Carragher lar or (the currently suspended) lil Davey Thommo have narrated the fairytale deep into Thor’s previously barren heart.
For these foreign reds to fit in they tend to overcompensate like fuck and this whole episode of kopiteism is most enjoyable viewing. They’re willing to forego being ripped off by their own for tickets just to feel that belonging. Parallels of the film Oliver all over the show amongst these scruffy urchins, unaware that the company and camaraderie they crave is viewed as a scourge by wider society. But then as a famed child manipulator nearly said “you’ve got to piss a pocket or two”.
But you knew all this, right? Bitter! Not really, I just find them peculiar and overbearing for the most part. Maybe you do too, or maybe you do truly hate them. Your relationship with them and Everton is completely up to you, and anyway there’s less governing amongst us about how we should behave. And I’m pleased about that.
Klopp has got them playing really well as referenced above and even with the predicted rotation in their squad they’ll more than give Everton a game. Here’s some of Atletico Accountability’s players that may or not play against the blues:
Firmino – really pleased he was found not guilty of racism as no one wants that. I’m not even arsed what he tweeted when he was 15 years old. Fuck me though how did he survive the favela looking like that? He wouldn’t manage the end of the road in Speke.
Mane – little shelf headed Cabbage Patch Kid who is rapid as fuck and dearly needs his achilles raked early on before he can fuck us.
Salah – I really want to despise him but he’s one fine fucking footballer and a seemingly nice fella to boot. @realmadrid por favor.
Henderson – one gormless off peak Gerrard him.
Solanke – thought he’d got away with stabbing Swayze, but underestimated a vengeful spectre absolutely seething at being pulled away from sexing a prime Demi Moore.
Can – hope he’s got Sterling on speed dial for a shoulder, you can check in but you can never leave. “Anyway Jordan Ibe’s a better player lad AHAHAHA yer nonce.”
Milner – twat that sweaty face back to the Hovis adverts where it belongs. His apparent post 30 blooming into the latter day Maldini was a highlight of last season’s kopiteism.
Van Dijk – give Niasse blue smarties and tell him the Dutchman’s deep in Pookie’s DMs, then watch our boy chase them balls into touch nowhere near their goal.
Robertson – seems a good signing.
Karius – a couple of decent performances from the Aldi Game Of Thrones looker has seen comparisons to De Gea. We won’t even bother his Sondicos, but fuck him.
You’d imagine there’ll be a change or two within the Everton ranks after City ran through us for fun last week. Tosun will probably start but we’re going to need a few more eager legs and moody tacklers to agitate them at least. Bolasie used to play really well against libberpeul but he’s just as liable to piss off the Bullens until he’s hooked for someone else.
Got no idea about what to do with our midfield but Rooney and Schneiderlin aren’t the answer for this game, if any game at all. Over to you Samuel.
Williams is back from suspension but the thought of one of their wee nippy fucks turning him the wrong way down the Panama Canal means I hope he’s swerved, and then sold in the summer. So Jagielka, Keane, and I reckon he will play a five at the back for this one, so someone else too. More of your Baines, Coleman and Pickford in there alongside.
So aye it’s not one to anticipate too keenly as we know how this song ends and to be plainly honest I can barely be arsed with Everton right now. What are they contributing to my weekends? Pain mostly.
So back to Aeschylus who also said “What good is it to live a life that brings pain?” which was a few millennia before St Domingo’s popped up. Go put that on a minty fucking banner in large gothic text.
No you know what, don’t.