QPR 0 - 1 Match Report

When the first proper team news for the season filtered through to the various ale houses, that David Moyes had given a start to young Ross Barkley, a genuine surge of optimism steered its way into many worried Evertonians head. It was almost immediately tempered by the fact that he was playing Beckford on his own up front,with everybody's least favourite defensive midfielder(after Phil Neville that is) Johnny Heitinga in the middle. Presumably then Louis Saha, Mikel Arteta and Marouane Fellaini all failed fitness test's and weren't on the bench? ''No...Really? thats weird...'' Still, it's only QPR, Sean Derry's in the middle for them, c'mon Everton these are shit.



Whether anybody at Goodison should have expected anything different from the players and the manager is questionable. It's tradition though to turn up first day and think about fresh starts and new leaves being turned over. This one came straight out of the beginning of last season's ''deflating shite'' textbook we blotted so handsomely for months. Disjointed, with some good players not knowing where they should be playing and looking like they'd never seen their teammates, nevermind spent half the summer with them dissappointed almost entirely throughout.

The one bright prospect was always going to be Barkley, to put it simply; in a torrent of overpaid, swelling, oceanic sound-bite twittering shite, he shone through like a pooh encrusted beacon(buoy), defiantly gadding about in Goodison's midfield spraying balls about like a latter day Paul Scholes, ignoring the stormy waters around him. Something about his low centre of gravity, his passing ability, his demanding of the ball and his instinctive grasping of responsibility, tells you somehow Evertons academy, yet again, have unearthed another absolute gem of a player.


The winning goal came after half an hour when striking journey man Tommy Smith curled one in at the far post, after some customary early season dawdling from Captain in waiting Jagielka. They passed the ball well QPR, with Sean Derry inexplicably rolling back the years and at the same time metamorphosising into Michael Ballack or someone. A bit like Joey Barton and Kevin Nolan did last year. Remember that? All the fun of the fair down at goodison park.


Adel Taarabt lived up to his billing as some sort mecurial Morrocan Magician, with some exquisite flicks touches and dribbling, whether he gave it the ''jusslikethaa'' routine whilst repeatedly making Phil Neville look like a biff all afternoon is up for debate. Oh for a multibillionaire to finance a move for such a player ''jusswhaweneed''.

Too many players on the day just didnt turn up, Tim Cahill, Phil Neville, Jermaine Beckford and Leon Osman all had days to forget about, truly pitiful performances. Even Leighton Baines, who created our best chance with a caressed free kick hitting the bar in the first half, even he and the high standards he set himself couldnt muster up what was needed to turnover a team at home that will almost certainly struggle all season.


Who knows what the reasons are for yet another bad start to the season, whether it be lack of investment, a gang of knobheads with a sense of entitlement releasing theirs(and our) dirty laundry two days before kick off, or even the nonsensical lack of involvement from our best players, who know how to play in a position(poor Jack Rodwell) from the start of a game. It happened again and its fucking depressing. Still, we can put it all right on a Wednesday night cup tie against a lower tier Sheffield United cant we? Unfortunately, my glass is half empty again.

Who said Evertonians are fickle?

QPR and Season Preview

Here we go again then, you pays your money, you turn up, you cover some poor unsuspecting fifty something menopausal woman in front of you with hate filled spittle, you go back to the ale house to whinge and moan about being held to a draw by Neil Warnocks promoted Queens Park Rangers (great footy name that), you gleefully stab your Kenwright doll in its eyes and one in the balls for good measure, then you fuck off home. Whats not to look forward to?


Ive got a bit of a soft spot for Q.P.R., its a mixture of their name, their kit and a couple of players who played for them, you know all the important things when your a kid. They come to Goodison after a fresh takeover from a rich guy (cool your jets Blue Union, i think London real estate could have something to do with this one) and a right royal walloping on the opening day of the season against the mighty Bolton Wanderers. So they will come to us wanting to put that right /  to impress the new owner / to pull their socks up...etc etc. Tarabt is the man to look out for who can make things happen for them, lump on him to slot, who was it last season Ben Arfa? Presuming he's available actually and hasnt fell out with his deplorable, arch Batman baddie lookalike of a boss, oh and Clint Hill, ex Tranmere and ''couldn't look more scouse'' if i tried centre back is suspended for them...blah de fucking blah blah blah. We need to just go out and snot the living daylights out of these. Ill tell you why...

         

The Blue Union have done their bit, they got their meeting with the chairman of our club, they got their dialogue, they have seemingly  fucked up their cause up by recording Bill on one of their iPhones in their pockets after not agreeing this with him in the first place. They've in no uncertain terms dragged the clubs name through the virtual mud on the eve of the new season, with a juvenile and amateurish campaign at finding the reasons why we cant make signings any more. Even Derek Hatton who set up the meeting has dropped them(stop laughing at the back), ironically via twitter, where all this kopite nonsense began.

Where were these militants when we signed a brooding Belgian midfielder for loads of dosh and our oh so mecurial Russian lad, with his half wand half hammer of a left peg for stupid money? Probably watching Youtube clips of them and wanking themselves silly like the rest of us. As has been said a million times over, thats were we are these days, if you're not owned by an Oligarch or Sheikh and spunking gold out your Peen at will, weakening your rivals and strengthening your own squad, your nobody and going nowhere.



It was the inevitability surrounding the Blue Union campaigns agenda that immediately rubbed a sizeable proportion of Evertonians up wrong way i think, they wanted answers for things that anybody with half an ounce of sense in their skull seemed to know was going on anyway. Since Kenwright has been in charge we've always been selling to buy, its that things are getting tighter its becoming harder for us to do our business when we want to do it, if any at all. ''Have you asked the Yankee's whether they're interested Bill? They hate the Redsox...''. Lord Above.



All things aside you have to commend this band of lunatics on their unwavering concern for our beloved club, it's touching. It just feels a bit like they've seen a couple of their mates on Facebook attending SOS gigs and marches and that they want piece of the toe curling NuSoccer pie. No team, anywhere, whether you've won it ''Fiiiiiive tiiiiimez Lad'' or never before, have a god given right to anything. You have to earn it. Whether that's tightening your belt and getting your head down, pulling together and working hard or whether its flashing your knickers at the first scurrilous rich 'Johnny Cum Firstly' and letting him have his wicked way with you, that's your decision.

Its time for everybody to leave this behind us now, after half of Tottenham burning down last week our season starts tomorrow. Leave all the infighting to the other side when half of Denmark has snaffled up their tickets, this time last year we weren't arsed about spending nothing. ''Champions League hopefuls'', hardly anything has changed. Dont think that any small personal protest you may be staging against the board or whoever is helping anybody out but yourself, if you love your team and can afford to be there, then do your duty. They need you and your coin, now more than ever.


Up Those Glorious Royal Blue Toffeemen.

The (not even) Million Dollar Barton Question

Joseph Anthony Barton, born in Huyton 1982. Twenty Eight years of age, a FREE transfer and in his prime.
Depending on which side of the fence you sit, thug, convict, play-maker and leader are just some of the words most likely to crop when people talk, usually quite passionately, about this self confessed Evertonian.

    

The lad has certainly had his well documented run in's over the years, there's no point in raking over old ground, as it looks like to the somewhat neutral observer, that he's began to mature a bit. People will almost certainly piss and moan about him venting on Twitter about proceedings at Newcastle as a sign he hasn't changed his ways, but for any frequenters of the social media outlet, he genuinely comes across as one of the more humorous, articulate and readable of the often lamented so called thicko's about in professional football. Not to metion liking half decent bands and artists in a virtual Ocean of RnB and Hip Hop bellendary that engulfs premier league jukeboxes, car stereos, mp3's. Who would of friggin well thunk it eh?

    

The point here is that as of today (2nd of August), Everton unsurprisingly still haven't managed to add to our fairly talented squad of decent, talented, polite, apologetic band of nearly men in Royal Blue. Opinions will be hugely divided here, but i genuinely see Joey Barton as an opportunity to add a different type of leadership, drive and steel into a squad that craves it. The point about him upsetting the team spirit is almost complete bollocks too. If its as strong as some fans and players are so eager to remind us of, then they will put him in his place if he gives it the big one as soon as he walks in. Sometimes though, its refreshing to have a player who will just give you the home truths you need to up your game.

I hate to use Gerrard and Liverpool as an example as I cant stand the furrrking bulbs and being 30 i have had to suffer watching him win all kinds of shiny pots for them. But when they are at their best, he's at the heart of all of it, snarling, snapping and reminding people of what it means to play for, yes you've guessed it: LIBBERPEWWLLLFURBURRKLUB. Watch him, as annoying as it is, the only other player in that team he's even remotely polite to throughout the game is Carragher, and thats because he's a fellow Gremlin. Anyway I digress slightly. You need that in a side, and top teams almost always have them. Think Roy Keane, think Souness, think Peter Reid, another Huyton lad who knew what it meant to play for a local side.
                             

He wont come cheap and we'll have to fight hard to get him as there will be a lot of competition for his signature. But I believe, *****Please Put On Royal Blue Tinted Spectacles Here*****  if we can convince him that this is his perfect opportunity for footballing redemption and success with his boyhood club, then who, millionaire or not, wouldn't gamble on that. He could be a hero at Goodison.

Ultimately, if it all goes tits up. Which it could do. You've paid nothing for him and you get rid for what you've paid him in wages. Something tells me it could be different though if we miraculously found the magic beans down the back Kenwrights Luvvie Lounger for this deal, we wont though.

And I for one, will think of what could have been. Good luck at Spurs Joey!

Up those glorious Toffeemen.

Kenwright Rules

There seems to be rumblings on-line at the moment around Everton, there is an organised social media campaign, aimed at lobbying local and national journalists. 'The Peoples Group' would like them to start asking the awkward questions which need answering around the ownership of Everton Football Club. They would like Kenwright, Woods, Earl or even Elstone to answer a truckload of questions they have around the mismanagement of the club.

I dont get it.

What I do get is a tangible sense of discord between fans of the same team. There seems to have been a line drawn somewhere (probably on the internet), where you either want Bills head on a shitty stick, yesterday, or actually, you think he's ok really, and he's doing just about the best job he can given the cards we've been dealt. Or guess what, maybe somewhere a bit grey and in between the two, it's possible readers!


We're not here now due to gross mismanagement of the club. We're here now through a mixture of bad timing, naivety and whisper it quietly frugal fiscal management in tough times. The club is arguably holding its own in one of the most gargantuan, bloated, monified sports leagues in the world. For example, some premier league clubs(i.e. United, Arsenal, Liverpool, Chelsea) are now snapping at the headteachers heels, pissing their shorts and crying because City have arranged a sponsorship mega-deal with Etihad (owned by their Sheik and that) to by pass UEFA's  Financial Fair Play rules. Did anybody honestly think multi billionaires wouldn't find a murky little loophole somewhere to force their gold plated phalices through? No, me neither, and good luck to them for rubbing the others spoilt little greedy faces in it.

Bill Kenwright certainly has his faults, by christ dont we all. But how many reasoned, well meaning Everton supporters would have the gall to stand in front of him and question his efforts for trying his utmost to take this club forward, or possibly even just captain it through choppy times? Not many. Do people still believe the guy has an agenda to ''keep hold of his train set''. I mean honestly, show me one supposed billionaire who has shown a genuine interest in financing the supremely hard working and gifted David Moyes and his wanton lust for a few more Bilyetdinovs.

The reaction this summer to another eerily quiet close season on the transfer front(which every last one of surely knew was coming), just smacks of an impatient new age football fan being unhappy he or she hasnt got a new signing to go and joust with Bill from accounts about whilst perusing the fantasy football player values together. Its got genuinely fuck all to do with Nil Satis Nisi Optimum or The Peoples Club either, two of the biggest and most pathetic sticks, nay caber's, ever wielded and smuggishly swung about the place to beat the club and its regime with. Just fuck off.

I'm not happy we seem to be stuck where we are. I'm not happy with the inertia mid table stability brings to your footballing supporting soul. I'm not happy with football teams concentrating building their brands and fan-bases in Asia. It stinks. But these are the times we live in. We've missed the boat man. United and in particular Liverpool with their millions of well maketeered fans, gleefully clinging on to every self aggrandising piece of branding that comes out of their oily PR offices just isn't for me. Neither is signing Jordan Henderson for 20 million sheets as it happens.


Were just not that attractive to potential investors anymore, the ones with the know how who could make a clear and positive difference anyway. Is it our house, our noisy neighbours, our mortgage rates being sky high? I think we know its probably those three and a few more. Were closer to the Carson Yeungs and The Venki Chickenheads taking over than we are to Arab Royal families. But would you happily swap Blackburn or Birminghams ethos on how to move forward for ours? I know i wouldn't.

I don't think there is a road laden with gold ahead unfortunately. There just may be the odd silver cobblestone jutting out along the way though. Let's put the megaphones and smartphones down eh, zigzag down it together, bladdered, arm in arm, tripping over it and doing it the way it should be done. The only way we've ever known.


Up those glorious Toffemen! 2011-2012 awaits.

'Senna' - Review

It's fair to say Im not the biggest fan of F1 or any type of motor racing as it happens, in fact i was probably one of the ignorant cunts who dismissed it as a 'sport' completely, this changed that somewhat because every so often a story will come along and twat you wholeheartedly in the grey matter and take your breath away, this was one of them.


Ayrton (eye-err-tun not errr'tun as some scouse ryhming slangers may tell you) Senna was the stand out talent, spokesperson and heart throb of his generation, if not ever. Hear or read F1 drivers interviewed and he's the one they all love and admire. He died far too early and in his prime at 34 years of age after a steering column failed in now infamous moment in F1 history. Senna in Brazilian terms was from a fairly priveliged background, but this does not deflect from the raw genius that he clearly posessed for his passion, not to mention his popularity amongst the people of his country and beyond.

Senna was the F1 marketing mans dream, articulate and charismatic, a hit with the ladies. A bit like Lewis Hamilton minus the personality lobotomy some might say. The part in the film where he meets Brazilian model Adriane Galisteu is a right hoot as he blushes and grins  his way through an awkward interview with her when she starts flirting with him onstage in Brazilian Christmas tv show.


The way the film is shot is like re-living a memory somewhat, gone is the talking head format which so often populates such documentaries about music or sporting legends, it uses all real footage some unseen before and in doing so it manages to tell a story of triumph and tragedy at its most acute. Along the way you feel like you know all the stuff that has happened and will happen, but because of some of the footage, particularly the pre race meetings amongst all the drivers and the head of the FIA and stuff, it's like they are all acting in a dramatic film, not having their lives documented as such.

Senna's rise to stardom in F1 dovetails nicely with the advances in technology in motorsport, offering an ethical and pure riposte to those who say it has improved the sport.Alain Prost plays the part of the comedy large hootered gallic villain to a degree, but ultimately he was used as a way of showing just how magical Senna was, i.e. Prost being methodical, ruthless and political in the pursuit of success and Senna just being the thoughtful zen like magician. Their relationship in the film starts playfully, decends into bitterness then admonishes itself of any ill feeling during their brief final podium together and Prost being one of many people carrying his coffin as 3 million lined the streets of Sao Paulo for his funeral. 17 years on Ayrton Senna is the last driver to die in F1.

If you get a chance to catch this beautifully tragic 'docufilm' at the pictures(it finished at FACT last night) my guess is that you wont be dissappointed. Failing that, catch it on dvd or sky or whatever means you can, because some stories deserve to live on long in the memory. Senna's was one of them.

Manchester City Match Report

At the risk of sounding like some sort of oh so busy fashion blogger and a big massive female, every now again something pops up in your calendar and the match has to get swerved for it, and watching the footage back(second half anyway)and reading some of the match reports, barring the derby earlier on in the season, i probably couldnt have picked a worse one to miss. You beautiful bastards Everton.



A mate who goes and a miles better blue than i (reserves and all kinds, the biff), missed the Johnson 3-0 against the shite the other year after choosing to go to a wedding and is constantly reminded of the fact whenever the game gets brought up. It feels a bit like that for me this time though. As we all know Goodison can creak and rock to the sheer aggression of its supporters surpringly at least once a season(think Blackburn a few years back 1-0, Ruddy etc etc), this was the game. Duncan Ferguson with his Marbella glow being on the pitch pre game and getting all emotional when pumping his fist at the supporters and was the warning sign too, bah! In the style of the big man himself, this was gonna be a scrap but any result is possible when you play like it means something. Its been a bit shit this season when alls said and done, but the odd result like this against trophy/competition chasing sides dont do your support any harm in the belief stakes.



Toothy Spaniard David Silva and Yaya Toure combined superbly and were unlucky not to put the game beyond doubt just between the pair of them in the opening exchanges, as City's expesively rushed together squad managed to show how good they can be if they settle in, bed down a bit and grow some fucking balls. Moyes possibly got his selection wrong employing two holding midfielders from the off at home, but the second half was a completely different story. Beckford was brought on to offer some support to Victor Anichebe, who up until this point had been valiantly trying his upmost to take the game to City and Lescott in particular, more of the same please from everybodys favourite moaning arse Crosbite.



Arteta and Osman moving into more central roles gave the team the artistry they needed to accompany their stirring physical fightback after the break. Tim Cahills waspish introduction led to ex city player Sylvain Distin getting us on level terms after Arteta curled in a beauty. Ten minutes later though, the big man would of been proud, as Evertons current man of the moment, little Leon Osman rose spectacularly above Vincent Kompany(the biggest of Citys multi million pound SuperGrocks) to glance one in at the far post. Limbs.


City responded by bringing on two expensive young talents in Balotelli and Adam Johnson as they tried to force their way back into the game. A £60,000 signing from Sligo Rovers put the pair of them in the shade though when he appeared and made a mockery of their price tags with a showing of bullish fearlessness. It was all too late for Manchester City, the blue heckles were up all over the ground and bigger, classier and more talented teams than them have come and succumbed to its ferocious love and support for its team, and long may it continue. See you next season City, cheers for the 6 points you cryarsing gang of trumpets.

 

Manchester City Preview

In some sort of weird karmic recompense, ever since City hit the footballing jackpot (some obscenely rich cunt buying you, twice). Everton boast a pretty impressive record against them winning 6 out of their last 7 games comfortably. Its fair to say its become a tasty slot in a lot of Evertonians fixture lists because of this precise reason, they've got what we supposedly all want and we cant(wont) understand why, yet we keep motivating ourselves to put them in their place.

  

Phil Neville has told Everton supporters we should leave our booing shorts at home for Joleon Lescotts first proper return to Goodison, this on the basis that Lescott played brilliantly for Everton in a ''golden era'' for the club, helping us plucky bastards reach Wembley. The chuffing great highlighted manc tit. Before Neville had started chatting bubbles about this, our latest judas, of which there have been a few, it wasnt really registering on the bile-o-meter, it just feels like one for the kids or two or three spurnings too far down the line for it to hurt, if you will. Now Neville has said that hair ruffling shite though, i wouldnt mind seeing everyones favourite Black Country Klingon get a customary 'Bullens Road Bear breath on your neck' welcome.

If we want to be brutal about things though, its starting to look like his decision to go to a team more than ten points below us at the time of his transfer, looked like a savvy one. He more than doubled his bunce per week, is off to Wembley again, probably to pick up a winners medal this time, is likely to feature in the champions league next season and is still in the international set up, oh and the changies at Eastlands are meant to be the tits too. But seriously, fuck him, and the Neville shaped Horse he'll ride in on. Clear your throats...



What sort of team can we expect after Wigan, ive no idea to be honest, it was a bit dissappointing to see Moyes shoehorn Arteta and Cahill into a side which had been performing admirably, United apart that is. Not that this was the sole reason behind the dissappointing draw against Wigan or anything, they are scrapping for their lives after all and by all accounts they did ok did the pie eaters. It was Arteta missing his early penalty that seemed a bit mad, particularly when Baines snotted one in soon after. It just sort of whiffs of complacency and players being comfortable that their places are safe and that.

 

Whatever team we put out, we'll be without Yakubu who has apparently ''had enough with Everton'', laters Ayiegbeni lad, the feelings mutual...we'll also need to be much better than we were at the DW stadium to get past Manchester Citys gang of talented over priced, over paid, journey men. Maybe they'll rest a few with an eye on the Cup final and we'll get up for the ''We Couldda Been Contenders Cup'' again this year, who the frig knows?

Up those glorious toffeemen.