Bolton Match Report - Gary Speed Tribute

As the dust settled on a much needed and satisfying result away from home to Bolton Wanderers on Saturday and how we should have maybe done this and could have done that to win by a few more. The futility of it all was brought shudderingly to the fore by the seemingly nonsensical news that the Wales Manager, ex Everton Captain and more than anything else fellow Evertonian Gary Speed had been found hanged at his home in Cheshire. Leaving a wife and two kids to mourn his loss. Sickening.

   

Credit where it is due to under pressure Owen Coyle. He could have pissed and moaned to the media about the game changing David Wheater sending off. It was touch and go, you can see why he went and its about time one of these went for rather than against us, but its just a bit shite that an unintentional mis-timed tackled can have such an impact on the outcome of a game. To summarise; we probably would have struggled had he stayed on the pitch. Martin Atkinson take note.

     

The Toffees looked to be making hard work of it on Saturday as they laboured to the break at nil nil. The murmurings where about lack of fire-power up front and dodgy team selections. These moans where put almost immediately to bed when Marouanne Fellaini latched on to a delightful Bilyaletdinov pass and slotted one home straight after the break. Apostolis Vellios has made it harder again for his manager to continue ignoring him for a starting berth by webbing a Tim Cahill knock back in from close range. The Aussie didnt stop working all afternoon and didnt get his long awaited goal, but his real contribution was to put the result beyond doubt for his side by not giving up on the deep Baines cross to the back post and expertly putting it back in the danger zone for the Greek lad to do the rest. Textbook. Pass me the Oxygen, were back up to eighth.



Sometimes in Sport or in life an event shocks you to your very core. Waking up in a slight Sunday morning hangover induced haze with family and hearing the disbelieving news of Gary Speeds suicide through a mixture of Facebook, Twitter and Sky Sports is one of them. It is truly, truly upsetting a hard to get your head around. A seemingly stoic professional, a lad who had achieved so much in his playing career and looked to be going on to great things in his managerial career through firstly Sheffield United and then Wales had taken his own life. What went wrong?

    

It is well documented that Gary Speed was a blue, brought up in North Wales not too far away from Chester. A picturesque little place in the country where our club draws in a sizeable chunk of local support. He won the league as a bright young thing at Leeds, then signed for his boyhood club who he went on to captain. Derby goals and hatricks he was an individual who achieved dreams. A widely respected, healthy, good looking, popular family man. He literally had it all.



The circumstances around his all too brief Everton career coming to an end are quite frankly, totally fucking irrelevant just now. Who cares what songs were sung and whether he swigged out of Kendalls lucozade bottle and saw fit to call time on things. Its all just bollocks, its only footy, its certainly not more important than life or death. Two little lads have lost their Dad and a woman has lost her loving husband. It is a clear measure of the man that whatever did make him leave the club he loved and captained will probably now never ever come to light and all the better for it. That was the type of individual he was and he exuded it whenever you saw or heard him speak. A truly great man. Never has 'Nil Satis Nisi Optimum' been more relevant for the way a fella lived his life. He never gave anything other than his best and the world is a darker place without him.

God Bless Gary Speed, thanks for the memories mate, you will be sorely missed. x

Bolton Preview

Off t'Trotters for another relegation scrap then, or is it? Its certainly nose bleed territory in 12th for the super blue toffeemen. Poor old Owen Coyle, architect for a bit of plucky Burnleys ''Total Football'' which saw them plummet like a passive lemming back into The Championship, then Boltons saviour for a bit with his ''refreshing outlook'' for the game. The Premier League's brightest young thing in management last term and the heir to Moyes throne, be it at Goodion for some or just in the minds of the generic brain-dead global fan of the Eee Pee El, he hasnt exactly had it his own way this season. There they sit in the relegation zone a full four (4) points behind Everton.

     

John McGinlay , another farting no nonsense Scot, wrote a piece in a Bolton Newspaper exuding the virtues of Moyes and his relationship with Bill Kenwright, surmising that because Moyes never feels under pressure from his Boss, he invariably turns around any patchy form that the club find themselves in, and that Phil Gartside needs to take a leaf out of our book on this one. Depending which side of the fence you sit, you can take this one of two ways, either Gordon Ramsays twin McGinlay is dead right and thats what makes Moyes, the chairman and us BOSS. Or that Moyes may not be feeling enough pressure from above these days and is losing sight of what can motivate you when you need it. It could be said that last season this was the scene of possibly Moyes biggest hissy fit in his whole tenure at the club, sitting there, in the rain, with a massive ginger gob on.



The naysayers amongst us may look at Coyle's current struggles and think the grass may not be greener afterall, but its getting to the stage were even his most staunch supporters, of which i still feel i am one, could counter that negatively with an argument against him straight away i.e. what about Moyes second season syndrome? One things for sure, it will be a real battle of wits at The Reebok, where Big Sams shadow hangs over the place like a thick putrid Sunday morning Guiness fart, two of the leagues 'Glasgie Seven' will go head to head and try and rob 3 points off each other and to try to put a run together for their clubs as well as themselves.



People lashed this one in our fixtures as certifiably ''winnable'', im not sure it will pan out like that. For a kick off both teams and their managers will be shit scared of getting beat here. All ill go as far as predicting, cos im shite at that sort of thing, is not many goals and quite likely a draw, FOOTBALL SAGE! ''OOOOWEEOOOWEEOOOH OOOH Moves like Drenthe'' against all the odds has seemed to take Moyes ''pull your finger out'' comments on the chin and used it as an opportunity to laud praise onto Leighton Baines, who in turn heaped some gushing comments about Marouanne Fellaini re-signing about the place, were just like one big happy family aren't we? It half restores a bit of faith and makes you want to eat your own cynical words and choke on them, a bit. Jack Rodwell is likely to be out again and i never thought id say this but we seemed to miss the handsome twat against Wolves. If there were four young players to build a team around etc etc.

Id go:
--------------------Howard---------------------
Neville------Jagielka------Distin(hopefully)-Baines
--------------------Fellaini-----------------------
-----Coleman------Osman-----Drenthe----------
---------------------Cahill------------------------
---------------------Saha-------------------------

....but im just a tit off the internet. So god knows. Its been a bit of a mixed bag down there over the years and certainly not to be classed as a happy hunting ground. The only certainty will be some fat tit giving it beans to James Browns 'I feel Good' at some stage, hopefully in an Everton replica shirt. Bolton genuinely could be the poster boys for a 'no music for goals' campaign for the Blue Union or The Spirit of Shankly once they get tired of kicking off about 'stuff'.

PLAY UP TOFFO'S.

WOLVES MATCH REPORT

A wins a wins a win. Or something... How fucking dour was it though? Its becoming more and more of a chore to sit through Everton games. England new boy Jack Rodwell and Sylvain Distin were the surprise omissions, presumably the people carrying knocks Moyes was referring to pre game as you'd of expected them both to start here, and wouldn't you know it we went behind first again, to a soft penalty decision from no mark ref Jonathan Moss. We've been here before.



Amongst other stuff, the lethargy in the stands seems to be transferring itself on to the pitch and drowning the players in a sea of apathetic sighs and shrugs, there was a period in this game where we were behind, at home, on the back of about 6 other losses, to a pretty poo side who are somehow below us, and nobody really gave a shiny shite about it. Players like Tim Cahill and Leon Osman, real stalwarts and great ambassadors for the club down the years, players who you rely on in situations like this, just seemed to sink into the background and look a bit tired of it all. Still, they all dug in against a terrible official and Wolves spoiling tactics and managed to win it through, just.

.

Their penalty in the first half was touch and go, he went looking for it and you'd expect the newly signed up Marouanne Fellaini to not hang his leg out in that situation but thems the breaks. Whether Stephen Hunt turns up to training these days with an old waistcoat on and a red neckerchief round his gullet, only Mick McCarthy knows. Either way, he smashed his spot kick home. Fucksticks. Thankfully we didnt have to wait too long to get back into the game. Cahill won a free kick, Baines curled it in beautifully and then his England colleague Jagielka sort of pirouetted in the air and glanced  it into the back of the net with beautiful simplicity. Right on the stroke of half time too, great stuff.



Continuing more or less what he'd started, after the break the referee seemed steadfastly determined to continue to try and spoil the games flow with a series of nonsensical decisions going against the home side when building up pressure and momentum. This isnt kopite moaning arse sour grapes here, we won didnt we, he just seemed completely out of his depth, the daft bloody apeth. Which makes McCarthy's and Hunts laughable statement afterwards that they were robbed by a poor decision, well, even more laughable. On we soldiered with the impressive and likeable Hennessy in goal for Wolves continuing to pull off the odd peach of a save. It looked like it had a draw written all over it. They pretty much threatened the sqaure root of frig all in the final third anyway. Then the breakthrough.



We'd already had two pretty much stonewall penalty appeals flatly refused by the official. So it was left to Saha, who had been lumbering around most of the game and not really ''getting'' his position right, to get pushed in the back by Ward and us finally get what we marginally deserved out of the game. Baines, who's standard of performace quite literally never seems to drop below very good, bravely stood up after missing his last one and calmly slotted it home.



All that was left was for Bill Kenwright to buckle under the pressure of about 200 blowhards, some with megaphones, some with masks and some with awful footwear and promise to finally loosen the purse strings a wee bit in January.

Away to struggling Bolton next, christ knows, ive got a feeling it'll be a slog though.

Up the Toffs.

WOLVES PREVIEW - TO THE VICTOR COME THE SPOILS

Why in the name of Barabas would anybody challenge a gang of fellow nerds off the internet to a joust in the art of cooking ones tea I hear you ask. Well, the answer is clear, to gain some of the finest undercrackers on the planet. This is generally the answer i gave to my bewildered other half when arranging and photographing some routine dishes like Chicken curry,Chicken fried rice and errrm Pizza and home made scollops. Still, whatever gets you through the day, cardiac arrest probably for yours truly. VOILA!

  

The banter was high, the critiques harsh and the competition fervent. The people voted with their eyes and their keyboards and the next thing i knew my swinging, hairy clockweights were being hammocked by these little beauties:



As a lot of people from a certain corner of nerdspace are already aware Luis & Juke and Oiler Boiler undergarments are quite literally the bee's knee's and indeed the dogs danglies of this already crowded market, im officially a loyal customer. Their purposeful combination of 95% cotton and 5% elastane combine to support your Hairy Walnut with reassuring ventilated aplomb. The designs have been sneered at as a bit ''too gay'' or a little ''fun boyish'' but i can categorically confirm they are wholeheartedly preferred by not only my delectable Maude at home, but also fellow masculine moustachioed beefcakes down the gym. It's literally win win here world.



Boy or indeed girl, im presuming here i dont have a fanny, you need to treat yourself to a pair. They're sold out of snazzy gaffs such as Selfridges, Urban Outfitters and Harvey Nics for all kinds of Roubles to unsuspecting trend seeking footy players and the like. Im here though to tell you that you can pick them up for next to fuck all (relatively speaking, both your balls will take time out to individually thank you for making the leap from baggy arsed M&S jockeys to these ) direct from http://www.rockundies.com/ .  Either that or throw down your oven gloves in a culinary duel to a load of faceless nerds sometime soon.



Onto Wolves. There are fewer and fewer occasions these days in Premiership football that can genuinely surprise you. Marouanne Fellaini pledging himself to Everton for another 5 years was definitely one of them. The timing of it is utterly bizarre, 6 weeks...a month and a frigging half away from a transfer window which would see him in that golden 18 months left on his contract player power period, which allows him to speak to potential interested parties. I mean, they're almost all gluttonous capitalist cunts, just what is in it for him?



Maybe the reported 70k per week he has signed up to was a one time offer only and he wouldn't get similar again? Unlikely. Maybe he knows something is in the pipeline regarding ownership? Then why not wait to see what they would offer him in petrodollars when his contract is rapidly running out. Maybe nobody was sniffing around him at all and we were his best option? Not a chance. Its hard as an Everton fan not to be cynical about some of his affectionate rhetoric either, you could almost see him being force fed it at times in his press conference ''errr errrm wass tha other yang one....errr....Rasss Barrclay?'' it leaves you with the feeling that there could be more than meets the eye with this one. Whether that may be a negative or a positive remains to be seen. Still, apparently were like a family to him. Arrrrr!

All pissing and moaning aside, were already in the shite and the big fucker is integral to us beating our opponents in this November 6 pointer on Saturday. His brooding ''wrecking ball'' ability should put us on another level to Wolves entirely(hark!). Lets hope now his poke has been agreed for the next 5 years he can concentrate on dominating sides like he should be every week. We certainly missed that presence against the Newcy Broons. His manager needs to start from tomorrow, ignore all the dissenting fucking clowns on Spellow lane claiming rumour victories left right and centre and go for this teams throat. It may have been Ghandi that once said: ''C'mon Everton GETHEFUCKINTOTHEM''

Im feeling:

-------------------Howard------------------

Hibbert----Jagielka-------Distin------Baines

-----------------Fellaini-------------------

Drenthe-------Rodwell------Osman-------

------Barkley-----------------------------
-----------------Saha---------------------

What are you feeling?

Cup that Henry's Balls like an angel Jack lad.

Up the Tofferoonies.

NEWCASTLE UNITED MATCH REPORT

Who's getting worried then? A quarter of the league season behind us and Everton are exhibiting some true defeatist relegation form. 10 points in 10 games and a point off the relegation zone, depressing. Moyes apparently went there expecting nothing from the referee and as it happens he got nothing from a uncharacteristically frugal Newcastle United side either. He was right about getting diddly squat off the man in charge, but something seriously has to change in terms of how we are approaching games each week, maybe he could start with his attitude. We've been here before in an early season relegation scrap, but this team has a worrying lack of direction and leadership, not to mention being hauntingly thin.



As if to kick sand fully in the face of the manager who had been trying to freshen things up with his starting line ups, Johnny Heitinga got the ball rolling after 12 minutes (literally), by slotting effortlessly into his own net from a harmless low Danny Simpson cross. Soft. He may as well have tied a beautiful black and white bow onto the ball and toe ended it past Howard full blast into the net from 2 yards out. The daft Dutch fraudulent hard man. We threatened little in response to that, there was half chances for Saha, Rodwell and Osman, but no sustained pressure or possession which may have ended with us getting back into a wining position. In truth it all just felt too predictable.



Next on the Toon gift list is the most Kopite looking twat on the planet, Ryan 'perma gob on' Taylor, smile you red-shite twat. Jack Rodwell who has  looked great since his derby day red card and a few games before,  was almost as generous as Heitinga when he dutifully set up the one cunt on the pitch you didn't want get one against us. A marvellous strike nonetheless. We'll let the new England international off though, as he threw Everton the lifeline they needed with a cracking header from a Drenthe cross with the last kick of the first half. 2-1 at the break then.



Evertons substitutions sort of give you an indication about what is going on at the club just now. Neville off for the benched Distin just before the break, Cahill then on for the now mid fielded Heitinga just after the break, then a one paced James McFadden coming on in the last 10 minutes to try and save you the game for a right back. Confusion and indecision about roles, best positions and game plans all over the place. The only real talking points of any note in the second half from Evertons perspective, was reluctant boo boy Dan Gosling weirdly only just making his home debut for the Magpies coming on, then comedically hand balling in the Newcastle box only for it to be ignored by big time homer Andre Mariner. Who's parents must have been having a right wheeze at the Births Registry Office, ''Hello Sailor...'' indeed.

So then, a much needed(sic) international break for Moyes and his charges to ruminate on exactly where they find themselves again early on in the season and how best to deal with it, up to the apricots in the brown stuff and rising to be precise. Maybe someone needs to go over to Bellefield and see if they left the Karaoke machine in with the old lawn mowers or something.

Get them Hymn sheets passed round errrr...Roundy!

NEWCASTLE UNITED PREVIEW

Be careful what you wish for is a statement that is often bandied about by anti-Bunion'ers, you could end up with someone like Mike Ashley selling all your best players and your Captain... Now by no means am i lauding the wholesale efforts of the laugh a minute Cockney Mafia up at St James Park, but only the most one-eyed, pig headed Evertonian couldn't be bloody impressed with their unbeaten start to the season. Were in November after all.

   

There was a time not so long ago when the Geordies were protesting like their lives depended on it. Unlike us classy Scousers(sic), im not sure they go for marches up there, they just tend to congregate on those steps outside/underneath St James Park grunting their disapproval and slamming their fists into the concrete with force...UG! Its all gone suspiciously quiet though, and who can blame them? To give them their official half term report, they look 'fucking decent' to put it bluntly. In short: start playing some good stuff, get the rub of the green here or there, string a few results together and all the fidgeting militant conspiracy theorists will soon button it and get behind the side. Liverpool and Manchester United are the trailblazers in this current footballing phenomenon and unfortunately we are the inverted weirdo pretenders to it. Modern Football Fans In Heaving Bellends Shocker.





Everyone thought things looked a bit ropey for them early on after losing that kopite twat Nolan, Sweet Carrol 9 and the voice of footballing reason, Joey Barton. But lo and behold, all the talk up there is of a team spirit not seen at the club since those halcyon days of yore when Wor Kev was losing them the title. Maybe there is something in this management lark?

 ''Ive got a lovely little 3 bedroom semi you should have a look at sweetheart....what?...my comission?...Im sure we can com to a little arrangement...'' Slime.

Pardew who described David Moyes as one of ''The Best Managers In The World'', im not lying, and some of Newcastles impressive acquisitions like Yohan Cabaye, Cheik Tiote and....*gulps*....Demba Ba have fired them into the Champions league positions early on and they dont look like they want shifting. What happened to needing billions to turn things around these days? Hold on, how much is the fat fucking tit who sells the Lonsdale socks to kopites worth? Ah well, the orc hordes need their socks, but you get my point. They've tightened their belts(a bit), pulled together and seem to be enjoying things.

Arteta's last truly brilliant performance for the blues came here last season in March when he orchestrated a great 2-1 away win and we'll really miss his guile tomorrow. Holding onto the ball will be important tomorrow as like at Goodison, keeping the home crowd happy can be a bloody chore at times, so lots of possession and an early goal could be vital for us to use that potential frustration in the stands against them, easier said than done. All the self belief will be with the home side too who secured as impressive an away win you can get these days up against Stoke's Meathead Eleven on Monday night and we're coming off the back of 5 enthusiasm sapping dips.

Still, in the words of our ever more influential and returning rent-a-quote Royston Drenthe ''We are going to Newcastle to win because we are boys, WITH BIG BALLS...''. Quite.



You've got to warm to the lad. Up the toffees!

MANCHESTER UNITED MATCH REPORT

At the 12 noon kick off Everton made United work hard for a victory which depressingly led to the homes teams 5th loss in 6 games. How we're not rooted to the foot of the table either speaks volumes for the amount of shite that is swilling about in this league or possibly how we've been very lucky to get some of the results we have done. Next up! Champions League chasing Newcastle United. I shite-th thee not.



Hernandez scored a cheap goal when Johnny Heitinga fell a kip ball watching in the 19th minute and until that point, apart from an early burst into the box from Coleman for the blues, United had looked every inch the champions and were knocking it about with impunity. Then things sort of changed, we pretty much matched them all over the pitch and could in some ways be deemed unlucky not to have got a well earned point from an unusually polite 90 minutes, well apart from the near constant stream of vitriol from the away section in the Bullens road. Baines exquisite free kick rebounding off the bar was the closest we came throughout, but there were half chances for Fellaini, Rodwell and Osman.


One particular individual performance in Diniyar Bilyaletdinov, after an encouraging display midweek, not only did he stink the gaffe out, but he deemed it appropriate to spray the old lady from top to bottom using one of those industrial sized manure spreading machines. How many times will the lad get a chance to prove his detractors wrong? Presumably until somebody comes along and spares his manager blushes by offering something, anything, for him. He seems so far out of his depth and ponderous when on the ball, I just feel really sorry for him now. Baines wont even look at him most of the time, its like Bily gatecrashed into Leighton's respectable Christmas Kirkby family dinner bladdered on high grade Russian Vodka, then curled off a stunning Soviet Stool on top of their Marksies Turkey, right in front of his mum, and nan. A surprise and a half it was then to see David Moyes show so much assertiveness and haul the frigger of at half time.

One slightly weird yet satisfying thing about this fixture, from where i was sitting anyway, was the almost complete indifference people treated Wayne Rooney with. Gone is the Shrek masked shrieking, jeering and booing, all replaced with the a half arsed ''aaahhhhh'' when he missed the odd pass, with him looking distinctly off the boil considering how good he's been all season. That's the way it should have been all along i reckon. He clearly still loves Everton, such are the virtual nods he gives us via his smartphone and Twitter all the time. So lets just leave it be eh?

 ''Ill just have one of those thin Chapati's this time Jon, the Naan goes straight to my waistline....''

All that was left then was for giddy talk about Indian Takeaway's and for the referee, Mark Halsey, who did ok most of the day, to deny Everton a last minute penalty and possible equaliser when Patrice Evra clearly felled Magaye Gueye whilst bearing down on goal. Uniteds trumpet playing prohibition looking left back may not have meant it, but it was a clear goalscoring oppurtunity so therefore should have been a penalty. End of.

Encouraging, honestly.