Huddersfield v Everton Preview

It’s a last min preview  this week as life got in the way of describing oppositions as scruffs, suggesting tame lookalikes, offering no tactical insight whatsoever and, oh yeah, Everton.

Or maybe that by finding excuses not to do a preview of Everton is symptomatic of what’s happening on the field. This being a third to last game in a season long over and with our team lacking entertainment, or indeed much hope for beyond what looking a succulent Evertonless summer. All them weekends and one less thing to turn you into a moody tit.



Get out there in the car and take the family on some days out you. Great isn’t it these pastimes things. Got time to learn a hobby in fact, what’s it gonna be? Time ever to dust off those old Silver Shadows, have a stretch and give an old once round the block. Fancy learning about my city me. Gonna take climb up the top of the Anglican on a clear day and soak up the views. Get that glamping booked that I’d been eyeing up, study some of the walks around the area, doctor gonna be so impressed. New leaf coming this summer, can’t wait.

Settle down you daft fucks, you’ll be doing none of this. Everton got their hooks so deep inside you that you’re gonna sit around the house like a spare part, procrastinating to fuck and swerving cutting the grass. Checking the internet for new Everton signings. Engaging in futile pathetic bantz on social media. You lamentable docile specimen, go on and roll another.



So cut this shit out. And settle down. Your pissy panted approach to pretending to be casual about Everton makes me want another season of Allardyce, to engage your self loathing and channel all those feelings of helpless rage into the object of Everton. And know what? Everton don’t care about you buddy. That’s right, your ticket money is a mere manatee’s piss in the ocean of Premier League income. The importance the profess on you as a fan is a superficial approach to service and fan engagement to be consistent with their competitors and fend off any liability or PR disasters which could damage their brand. Their brand > you, mate.

So no you’re not swerving Everton, they’re swerving you unless you cough up your hard earned readies to grab a seat or merchandise.

Happy now? No I’m not to be honest.



I find myself distracting myself from the game without even meaning to. If it’s a game on the telly I spend it deep in twitter sort of half listening and occasionally looking up. We’ve had much shitter before and no mistake, we’ve seen some dreadful Evertons but right now it’s just dull. There’s been no cohesion in any performance for so long. No verve. The goals that do happen are not generally because of sustained periods of pressure. I am fond or enthusiastic about very few of them. I don’t think they’re fond or enthusiastic about many of us and that’s alright.

Jibbing Allardyce isn’t the one move fix. There’s a deeper malaise and a hastily assembled squad at great expense with very few that demonstrate the acute qualities that a desperate fan base would love them long time for. Maybe they just haven’t got it in then. Maybe they are poorly led. Maybe our laborious scrutiny affects them negatively. Maybe.

There’s a certain set of events transpiring that is causing disconnect around Everton. The top ultra bus greeters dangering the European Cup again with exceptional attacking play certaining doesn’t help a continually contrasting toffs fans. An anxiety on the pitch that manifests itself routinely whenever we concede a goal or suffer a spell of opposition pressure. An irritated crowd. Do you think Everton are a great place to develop your career if you were a decent footballer wanting to step up a level? There’s better options right? So it’s the pay cheque then, that’s why he arrived?



Such toxicity is no alien to football clubs. There’s certain indicators such as rapid rotation of managers, check, widespread apathy between fans and team, check, previous resources being slowly held back, thankfully not yet. We’ve been yearning for a suitable sugar daddy for decades and when we apparently get one it’s blown wide open our notion of needing this to smash on through glass ceilings. But really when you’ve lashed good money at a club then that’s a major part of your mandate, you’ve done your bit and should expect a return on that, benchmarks provided to chart progress.

But when such things are seemingly broke then the change must start at the top. Leadership comes with requisite responsibility that (in ordinary employment) compensates more handsomely. You’re the person with the strategy to weather the downs, you’re the person with the solutions. The moment you stop producing solutions, or at least sound strategy that others (above and below you) will invest in for a period of time then on your head be it. A thankless and no doubt occasionally lonely task but any leader that applies for it should receive little sympathy. Eyes wide open going into it, Walsh and Allardyce too.



Do they deserve some of the abuse being thrown around? Not the nasty stuff. I can’t get behind that. But their big Iranian daddy just threw two hundred and thirty nine million pounds of much celebrated capital into improving his asset. And that asset has depreciated. There’s a lot of fan entitlement knocking about right now but it’s the entitlement of Moshiri to get more from his investment that will be way greater in igniting a change of course, strategy, personnel. No one move fix as I started earlier but all effective change got to start somewhere.

These are weird fucking times indeed. And Everton will probably finish top half. What you moaning about, scream some press and opposition fans. Screams Allardyce. Personally me I’m screaming inside about not winning a single trophy in 23 years. About continually selling our best players without putting something meaningful together first. Screaming in dark parts of my hippocampus about shit weekends. Being lucky enough to see Everton win leagues and trophies and fretting that my hard fort for Evertonian nephew won’t get to experience that. Never mind his peers, hordes of young staunch blues anticipating the next false dawn or complete fuck up as Everton become a byline in plucky Premier League flotsam.

But I’ll still be there. And if you are unfortunate to know me I doubt you’d be aware that I harbour these thoughts. Now pass me my pint, not the seat cushion. Or the tennis ball. But if you do then that’s sound. We all want the same thing.



Suppose I best throw a few words in about Huddersfield. They’ve got that uncomplicated Yorkshire front about them but with less of the brashness you may find further east in Yorkshire. I’ve never met a person from Huddersfield that I wasn’t fond of and for that reason I hope they stay up. Of course all this amiability ceases once their fans start acting like bells but that won’t come for a few seasons yet.

The only threat to my fond thoughts of the Terriers is their current manager who for all intents purposes is an off peak Klopp that they’ve bought. If Mrs Klopp feels comfortable being left alone with him in a room then I’d be dead surprised. German eccentricity is IN right now for football managers but by Zeus’ regal beard I hope this bad Project Manager speaking, acting biffturd gets jibbed sooner rather than later.



Some of their players:

Depoitre – if it was a cocktail it would be one part sour Giroud, one part Tyson Fury and one part lean all over Michael Keane for their second goal.

Van la Parra – never heard of them, a brace.

Mooy – deft footed attacking midfield skull who loads wanted to sign after two good games in August but Lookman is probably better.

Hogg – just been studying his forehead for 2 full minutes and can’t work it out. It’s like your neighbour’s extension that you’ve secretly shithoused to the council about as it blocks the sun in your garden after 3.20pm.



Schindler – must be dead tempting when sending him shopping to give him shit puns.

Zanka – seriously these shitehawks beating us is gonna be the final straw for many.

Hadergjonaj – there’s no way he doesn’t harbour megalomaniac ambitions and hang around with a fellow rodent called Pinku, no way.

Got no interest in discussing who may start for Everton so gonna swerve these customary paragraphs and push on through to a swift finish. Just fucking do something worth watching Everton, for fuck sake have a go.



Last time Huddersfield beat Everton was in 1956, courtesy of a much loved Dave Hickson header. They need to win this game to pretty much guarantee another season of Premier League football. Reckon we know what’s coming next.

Three to go, then that glamping.

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