And that’s a wrap. So how was it for you?
Another chapter in the occasional great book of St Domingos comes to a close, without any danger of leaving a bookmark lest we have to revisit any of the content.
I want to take you all the way back to August. Ronko’s expensively assembled team looking to push on from a solid first season with good foundations. One signing, two, three, four. Rooney signing his name and blinking against an atmospheric musical backdrop. Ambition in the air. Everton are back. Back motherfuckers.
Fast forward 9 months to Sam Allardyce as manager against a mutinous fan background, Liverpool in a Champions League final and Rooney trying to swerve Everton ASAP for the monster truck league.
Really Everton? You hideous fucking arl arse. Building our hopes up before taking a St Bernard sized shite over our excited wee faces.
Hang on a minute we finished eighth. One place down on last year. Of course we will lash that context word around and fit a narrative tightly around our own staunch opinion. Who’s right and who’s wrong?
Does anyone need to be?
As with so much at Everton there’s a natural polarisation in the fanbase over prominent issues. Apart from the current manager who has seemingly united most of you in opinion. To protest or not to protest? I’m not much of a protester like. However there is some merit in resisting mundane or shit Evertons, it creates pressure and from that – action and change. Not always for the better but thems the chances you take.
A large portion have been very patient for a couple of decades, I guess appreciating the lack of resources to truly compete with those above. When Moshiri stepped in those ambitions changed and it woke – a rightful ambition too – one of England’s most successful clubs. A lot of footballing decisions since then have been poor ones and the club is no further forward over 2 years later. What’s the rush you may ask? Twenty three years of not winning a single trophy will hopefully always create distaste and intolerance at Everton.
Didn’t even throw a motto at you there either chum. There’ll be no motto shaming round here. Call yerself an Evertonian? Incidentally Gillingham’s motto is “domus clamantium” which means “home of shouting men”. Elgin City, who finished mid table in Scotland’s League 2 profess “Sic itur astra” proudly as their motto, being “thus we reach the stars” and my favourite is that of Queens Park who identify their collective ethos with “Ludere causa ludendi” meaning “play for the sake of playing”. Wonder if they tweet it with venom at a fellow Queens Park fan who shows even a modicum of ambition, in spite of their motto?
The final home game was a dull one as a shite Southampton almost outfoxed Everton by turning up with something resembling a plan. Tom Davies wasn’t having any of that shit when there’s some good ol’ fashioned pissboiling on offer though, even if it was all largely irrelevant as Soton then dispatched Swansea and are now pretty much safe.
Biggest talking point was the emptying stadium for the traditional lap of whatever at the end. Was it dissent? Was it a rush to the beer garden? Was it apathy? I’m gutted as it didn’t empty completely before play finished so I could conduct my long awaited Schrodinger’s Everton experiment. Did Tom Davies really score? Or was it an own goal? Everton existing in both winning and losing states is the next headfuck on my personal journey with the shit bastards.
Onto our final opponents of the season and it’s a familiar face welcoming us to a shit javelin stadium, where once Usain Bolt outstretched his arms in almost omnipotent glory, to merely 6 years later Phil Jones tripping over a cheap green carpet. The familiar face is David Moyes, and he’s kept West Ham up against an eclectic background of dildos, Soviet hats, Mark Noble and scruffy fans running on the pitch.
It’s a shame with West Ham as for a long time they were in a select club of tolerance from your average Everton fan. A principled working class club with rounded fans. Then James McCarthy tackled Payet and holy mother of fuck out came widespread kopite indignation. If we study it a little closer then we do see demographics performing in their meltdown. It wasn’t much the older West Ham fans, but instead their millennial posse who committed this atrocity. You know the type who think that one of the most competitive marketplaces in the world can be conquered solely by mindset. Strategy, perseverance, risk taking, collaboration all are absolutely worthless. You want to win the Premier League? Then just show AMBISHIN.
These young West Ham fans have wanked socks into rigidity over The Wolf Of Wall Street and no mistake. Hooked on superficial tokenism and signs of performance arrogance as they all try and out cool each other to show just how not arsed they are. Expect when their French mercenary gets tackled robustly by a freckled contract pudding with identity issues. And for that they must pay.
As for Moyes I’m passive towards him. He brought us many positive things over a sustained period of time which were offset in the manner he jibbed Everton off and tried to buy 2 of our best players right after. But that shit happens, so on we move.
Some of their players:
Carroll: one part Gorillaz, one part galoot, one part following his uncle’s horse around watching for any yield of unwanted metal.
Arnautovic – just seems a proper twat doesn’t he? Footballer I’d least want to be stuck in a kitchen beaked up at 4am with. He was defo king of the goths in school.
Noble – he’s an angry little elf isn’t he? Severe captain’s armband overcompensation.
Zabaleta – ace player in his day, would have loved him at Everton.
Evra – burns my head out that he was brave enough to stand up to racism and then had to watch Kenny Dalglish wearing a minty t shirt calling him a liar, and kopites still booing Evra now for it all.
Adrian – paint him blue, grow his hair and Avatar movie has a new lead role.
So Everton then.
The awkward scalp of Tosun will lead the line, if Walcott is fit then probably him and Bolasie either side. Schneiderlin and Gueye will be in the middle along with maybe a last lash of the Rooney dice, who knows, or even Davies again. Our midfield needs to give me time to heal.
You can guess the back four and keeper, even if Keane’s spatial awareness must make crossing the road a nightmare in his company. Or maybe Samuel will taunt the fans by starting 5 at the back, the absolute cad.
Thank fuck there’s no more of these for a few months. Really hope there’s some players to make us anticipate weekends keenly, should we correspond again.
And yet here we are. Through the dashing of optimism, the endeavour, the unfavourable comparisons with others. The endearing yet flawed struggle. Remembering better days gone by. Yet here we are, bound by habit, hope and an excuse for a few beers. Maybe the more we strain to peek at Everton the more we see the reflection back of ourselves.
Quite what Everton is to you is only definable by your good self. How you support Everton is your choice, hotshot. But I’m pleased we get to share it together. One day we’ll be millionaires.
Small but dead sincere nod of gratitude for anyone who’s read any of this shit at any point this season, and for @evertonarentwe for ill timed sent previews, and tolerance.
Maybe see you after summer. But mostly, fuck off Everton.