Manchester City Anagram: Catty Rich Semen. How Appropriate...

When I was younger, I used to tell people that Manchester City were my third team. The reason for this was probably because I grew up in the north-west supporting Everton and saw parellels with the blue half of Merseyside and the blue half of Manchester.

That particular misguided belief changed a long time before the Arabs came along with their oil money and I'm so glad my adolescent mind saw thorough the kind of classless club Citeh would become before they actually did.

It was so satisfying to destroy them the other night on their own turf. After the way they'd claimed our win at Goodison was a fluke earlier in the season. You remember? That was the game in January when we played them off the park and should've won 5-0? Yeah, jammy bastards aint we? The result though coming out of the City Of Jeddah Stadium last Wendesday night sent out a signal to the entire football world.

That message shouted loud and clear:-
REGARDLESS OF YOUR RICHES (Saudi Riyal in this case), MONEY CANNOT BUY YOU CLASS, HISTORY AND CULTURE.

Or in the more succinct words of the ecstatic Evertonians on the terraces that night:-
2-0, AND WE'VE SPENT FUCK ALL!!

Since they won the Saudi lottery, supporters of Manchester's third team (after Man Utd and Droylsden) have gone and got themselves in a little tizz about how they're about to rule the world by buying the Premiership, the Champions League, the Copa America and the Eurovision Song Contest. Mind you, Terry Wogan's got more time on his hands these days I believe so he might fancy having a crack at winning something for Citeh because everyone else has tried to polish that particular turd and at the end of the day, a turd is a turd. They remind me of those Harry Enfield characters Stan and Pam Herbert, who used the catchphrase "We are considerably richer than yow", to try and make themselves feel superior. They're support is generally a ragtag collection of bitter old bastards who've watched years and years of divisional ups and downs, the Liam Gallagher set complete with swagger and plastic Manc badboy attitude and the newbie hangers-on who've attached themselves to the club recently when it looked like they might be getting some success at some point in the next twenty years.

Then the Italian Stallion goes and gets frisky with Moysey on the touchline and you just know that back on the streets of Glasgow, that particular incident would've ended up with Mancini writhing around on the floor with a broken nose and a deep fried Mars Bar shoved up his designer Italian arsehole. Abbia che voi omosessuale italiano sporco! On top of that, in the high end hospitality, Gary Cook (Arab glove puppet) throws out a guest of Everton and his missus for taking the piss at the end. We really did get at them in every area of that stadium didn't we?!!! The terraces were ours, the touchline, the pitch and even the prawn sarnies!

Everton have the dignity and team ethic within the current set-up to meet the arrogance of Manchester City and their fans head-on and they hate us for it. They see us as the scruffy bindippers from up the East Lancs Road, conveniently forgetting that Maine Road was situated in Moss Side. Remember that walk on night matches? Their history is an embarrassment which is probably why they enjoy wallowing in this amusing superiority complex that they have.

Everton might not have millions in the bank but our club has a heart and soul that money can't buy and now and then we get reminders of why it's a grand old team to support. I'd rather have that all day than be considerably richer than yow!

5.9

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Sleep Therapy

I dreamed a dream.

The dream involved just FOUR little things happening this season that didn't happen.

It changed everything.

23/8/09
Burnley v Everton
Everton are toiling 1-0 down against a very average Burnley side still buoyed by a win over Manchester United earlier in the week. Hibbert goes over and Phil Dowd awards a dubious penalty. Saha scores sending Jensen the wrong way. The game finished 1-1.
Everton +1 point Burnley -1 point20/12/09
Everton v Birmingham
At 1-0 up, Everton are comfortable and Louis Saha springs the offside trap to make it 2-0. Birmingham pull one back but it's not enough.
Everton +2 points Birmingham -1 point

6/2/10
Liverpool v Everton
With Liverpool down to ten men, Tim Cahill buries a trademark header from six yards at the Anfield Road end just before half time. Liverpool fluke one back later in the game to make it 1-1.
Everton +1 point Liverpool -2 points

28/2/10
Spurs v Everton
In the second half, it's 2-1 to Spurs and Everton are completely on top. A tremendous ball from Rodwell finds Landon Donovan at the far post who calmly slots home to make it 2-2. Everton +1 point Spurs -2 points

Four things that have this impact.

Everton +5
Burnley -1
Birmingham -1
Redshite -2
Spurs -2

The revised league table puts us on level points with the Gobshites with a game in hand. Even more tellingly, only 3 points away from 4th spot.

The finest margins. Live the dream people.

1 Man Utd 29 43 63

2 Chelsea 28 39 61

3 Arsenal 29 37 61

4 Man City 27 17 49

5 Tottenham 28 23 47

6 Liverpool 29 16 46

7 Everton 28 4 46

8 Aston Villa 26 16 45

9 Birmingham 28 -1 42

10 Fulham 28 3 38

11 Stoke 28 -5 35

12 Blackburn 28 -15 34

13 Sunderland 28 -8 30

14 Bolton 29 -22 29

15 Wigan 28 -26 28

16 West Ham 28 -9 27

17 Wolves 28 -25 24

18 Hull 28 -33 24

19 Burnley 29 -31 23

20 Portsmouth 28 -23 19

Johnny Heitinga - The Truth

John Heitinga has people buried under his patio.

John Heitinga is The Don.

John Heitinga rules Holland with an iron dildo.

John Heitinga smokes cocaine, injects weed and sniffs heroin.

John Heitinga has 6 wives, 12 mistresses, 9 bits on the side and still finds the strength to bash out 5 wanks a day on top of shagging all of them.

John Heitinga shot the sheriff and then ground the deputy into dust.

John Heitinga lost 1 arse cheek in an unfortunate smelting accident.

John Heitinga has 45 illegitimate children all of whom are named Johan.

John Heitinga eats small children and swills them down with bunny rabbit blood.

John Heitinga knew The Beatles before they were famous. John Heitinga owns the red light district.

John Heitinga shoots puppies with a shotgun.

John Heitinga is turning paddys wigwam into a ganja factory.

John Heitinga is banging Alex Curran/Gerrard.

John Heitinga told Jose Mourinho how to be "special".

John Heitinga hates Joleon Lescott.

John Heitinga has a pet alligator that he feeds on a diet of dead cats.

John Heitinga supervises mass orgies wile sitting atop a pile of naked bodies.

John Heitinga is working undercover for the Dutch government to organise the killing of Dirk Kujt.

John Heitinga owns a three wheel van which he uses to tow his caravan.

John Heitinga killed for the first time aged just 4 years and 8 months old.

John Heitinga has your mum on speed dial.

John Heitinga is a pimp to 237 prostitutes and 1 gay guy.

John Heitinga is Fernando Torres's real dad and knows that s/he is really a woman.

John Heitinga is the reason the managers of Real Madrid never last longer than a season as the board fear him.

John Heitinga leaving is the reason Athletico Madrid are struggling this season.

John Heitinga called Rafa Benitez a stupid beardy twat to his face before slapping him on his arse and calling him his bitch.

John Heitinga's home has a pool full of human blood.

John Heitinga shot JR in Dallas.

John Heitinga was the second gunman on the grassy knowl.

John Heitinga shits concrete n pisses acid.

John Heitinga drinks pints of whiskey on a night out.

John Heitinga can sniff cocaine up through his arsehole.

John Heitinga lost his parents who suffered similtaneous heart attacks during a rampant sex session.

John Heitinga is the banker on Deal Or No Deal.

John Heitinga made the devil squeel like a bitch.

John Heitinga is always watching you.

John Heitinga - The Truth On Facebook

5ive

Five important general theories attached to Everton FC:-

1) If something can be done, then Everton, as a team on the pitch or as an organisation off it, will generally do it the hardest, most long-winded way possible. This normally results in frustrating failure but these failures make the rare taste of success even sweeter.

2) Once a player is touched by the hand of Everton, they will never be the same. There are numerous examples of this throughout time, people without alot of knowledge or fondness towards Everton prior to their arrival. In recent history, names like Duncan Ferguson and Landon Donovan spring to mind. These people connected with the spirit of Goodison and her people quickly - it just happened and they BECAME.

3) The mainstream media find Everton to be somewhat offensive in a way you would try and avoid talking to your Pikey cousins at a wedding. This is because Everton have history, class and culture that overshadows most of what the Sky 4/5/6 (if you include the newly ordained Spurs and Citeh) could ever offer.

4) Referees have been mugging Everton off for many, many years partly because of point 3 above (buying into the negative media vibe) and partly because the general footballing fraternity (The FA, UEFA) find it in their best interests to maintain the status quo. Can any other club on Planet Earth roll off a list of atrocious refereeing performances throughout history that have defined major games and even influenced seasons? Paranoia? Clattenburg, Thomas, Poll, Wiley, Collina...that's five without even trying. Corrupt.

5) Scousers support Everton. Glory hunting out-of-town wools support Liverpool. This is a fact. Supporting Everton is something that has been cascaded down from father to son for generations in Liverpool. A survey a while ago showed that 65% of Everton season ticket holders lived within 8 miles of Goodison. Supporting the Redshite is something that Cockneys, Devonians, Norwegians and Paddy from Kildare started to do in the eighties when they weren't a laughing stock. The same survey showed that only 45% of Gobbos came from the same catchment area as previously mentioned. They will try and tell you that a 'cosmopolitan fan base' is the result of many years of success. Great, embarrassing though innit you sheep shaggin' divs?

Being an Evertonian is partly about acceptance of these guiding realisms.

It's not about waiting for the storm to pass, it's about learning to dance in the rain.

Yesterday I watched Everton beat Hull 5-1 at Goodison. Should've been 10-1.

Next week we'll lose 4-0 at Birmingham.

That's Everton. And we love them!

L4 4EL - The Postcode At The Centre Of Our World

When I was a kid, I'd get off at Bank Hall on the Northern Line walk along Stanley Road for a short while, cross over and head along Melrose Road for a bit, take a right all the way up Rumney Road and into the closely packed rows of terraces surrounding my spiritual home, Goodison Park, L4 4EL - home of Everton FC.

It's funny, it doesn't matter that these days I'm lucky enough to live in a lovely, semi-rural part of North Warwickshire...there's still a part of me just off County Road in Walton and whenever I go back there, it invariably feels like a homecoming. Goodison is a fairly ramshackle old bin these days, like a doddery old boy who sits by the fire in his slippers clinging on to yesteryear. But anyone who feels what I'm describing, knows what I'm saying. We've all laughed and cried at Goodison. Had moments of ecstasy that can only be compared to class A substance abuse or a night of pork scratchings and baby oil with Cheryl Cole in a Travel Inn in Hartlepool. Or experienced crushing disappointment that makes you feel like your heart is being twisted inside your chest (or was that just the Chang mixing with the Wagon Wheels?). We've took our kids there for the first time like our Dads took us...the buzz around Spellow Lane and County Road as you get nearer the ground, the programme sellers, hotdog vendors, scarfs and badges, come and get your scarfs and badges! That click through the turnstile and the walk up the old stone steps into the wooden stands and you see the lights first, then the lush green of the playing surface and you're inside the stadium, breathing some sort of special air that changes you forever.

This blog is simply an outlet for some of my musings and thoughts about Everton or stuff tenuously related to Everton. I don't suppose the internet needs another Everton blog but it's just a place to empty my head so if someone reads it one day, I'll be delighted. If nobody ever reads it and I get killed by a block of frozen toilet waste landing on my from 35,000 feet tomorrow...it'll sit on the net for a while then Blogger.com will flush it as dead...like it's writer. RIP Jimbo: An Evertonian Killed By Shit. Something about that is quite fitting.