Landon Donovan: substance or spin?

Like trips to the cinema and popcorn, like fish and chips, like JR and Sue Ellen, Everton and Landon Donovan just kind of go together well.

Why though?

What the fuck has a Californian with a big fod got in common with a football club in the Merseyside heartland of Walton? There was absolutely nothing to suggest that the loan deal of Landon Donovan from LA Galaxy to Everton in January 2009 would be anything more than a couple of fleeting substitute appearances that at best would sell us a few more shirts in the USA.

But ohhhhh nooooo, Landon and EFC became like Jack Daniels and Coke. They just clicked.

Donovan got off the plane at Heathrow and basically got straight on the pitch across London at the monolithic Emirates Stadium, home of Premier title chasing Arsenal. He announced his arrival with a delightful delivery which was met by the diminutive Leon Osman as Everton dominated the game and were robbed of victory with two deflected Arsenal goals. 2-2.

After that, Landon made his home debut against the oil rich Arab owned Manchester City, a side playing fantasy football with the best players in the world and convinced they were entitled to a run at the title - or Champions League qualification at the very least. Everton completely played Citeh off the park winning 2-0 (should've been more) and Donovan put in a good solid display and the 'American players are shit' brigade began to re-examine their pre-conceptions.

After that, Donovan saw some sobering lows (Birmingham in the FA Cup and a scratchy, ugly defeat across the Park) but some scintillating highs (Goodison defeats of Chelsea and Man Utd, a rousing home farewell and sign off goal in the 5-1 hammering of hapless Hull and the emotional goodbye at St.Andrews) but the overall feeling from his time at Everton was overwhelmingly positive.

There's a few reasons for this I think.

Landon offered us something we've desperately needed for some years now...attacking pace to burn and direct running down the right flank. He showed a passion, desire and will to win that every fan can associate with. He did our precious number 9 shirt proud, albeit in an unfamiliar part of the pitch for the Everton 9 to be plying his trade. The short-lived love affair between the LA boy and EFC wasn't just about his ability on the field though because I'm sure there are more technically gifted attacking right-sided players on the planet right now.

He seemed to always say the right thing. From his first press conference to his final Facebook status update when he was sitting in Heathrow departures, the soundbite or quote was always on the mark. Tony Blair's PR spin machine would've been proud.

Which brings me to my only nagging doubt.

Landon Donovan. Everton FC icon and legend in the making, blue blood and never forgotten until he returns someday?

Or fucking excellent politician?

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.