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.

Manchester United Match Report

Everton continued their immaculate impression of an on call, ready and willing fuck buddy for the more monified teams in the league by dejectedly capitulating to a late late predictable nodded Javier Hernandez winner on 83 minutes. If ever you want a no strings shag or just three points at home without so much as a tactical curve ball or a half hearted ''Stop it yoooouuuwah!'', depressingly, Everton are your man/woman/bitch.



In all honesty, up until the goal we hadnt done too badly really given the personell Moyes had at his disposal. The usual wave after wave of attacks were present, it doesnt matter whether you are Barnsley or Barcelona, under Ferguson teams at home, that is going to happen. They certainly werent carving us open at will. Apart from a comedy head first diving tackle from a horredously under par Bilyaletdinov and Leighton Baines being effortlessly swatted aside by notorious hardman Antonia Valencia, we didnt embaress ourselves at all.

People can criticise Moyes and his tactics as much as they like, but when you're up against bigger and consistantly invested upon squads away from home these days, you need a solid defensive display followed by a slice of luck to get any sort of result and again yesterday that wasnt forthcoming. A fantastic save by 57 year old Van Der Sar from the scorching Rodwell effort and the 'stonewall anywhere but old trafford or anfield' penalty appeals for Beckford and Anichebe either side of half time, were clear signs that yet again at Ireland's, Malaysia's and India's favourite tourist destination and all round money monster it wasnt going to be our day.

In more depressing and not completely unrelated news, some or all of our better players are still inevitably being linked with moves away in the summer. Leighton Baines is the latest one, with a possible move to Anfield being the one that wont go away. The paranoia inside some Evertonians would dictate that Liverpool and its hateful army of national tabloid hacks wouldnt bother running this one unless there was the slimmest of slim chances he may be interested. The ''Once i knew Kenny was in for me....'' quote being rubbed all over our long summer suffering kites is almost as inevitable as the move itself. Or something.

The weak get weaker and the strong get stronger.