Growing up amongst the dogs in the desperate 70's I used to get depressed with how successful they were, when we apart from brief glimpses, were absolute dross. My da told me one day 'Lad, just ask one of them who was the manager before Shankly'. I never met one of them who knew! My definition of a supporter is somebody who buys into the whole deal. it's like marriage, you are going to have bad times, dull times, agony and dejection. But on those days or weeks when the chemistry functions, all the bad times are forgotten!
That is the glory of being a true fan, you know the history, you know the fine times that have been had and you know they will eventually return, if you only keep the faith! Many Kopites are like those sad, clap ridden ted's who still dress like a teen in their 40's , tell everyone at the clap clinic what a great time they are having, shagging everything that moves, then creeping bad to the dingy bedsit to eat pot noodle and weep!
The honest answer is I don't give a [Poor language removed] how many there are, they deserve pity at best, contempt at worst. For all their undoubted success and glory ( and make no mistake, for many years they were the best team in the world) I would not swap one losing visit to Wembley with my beloved Everton, to whom I was bonded at a very early age, (by a father who was bonded to them by his father in Dun Laoghaire) for all their five European trophies, or their league titles. Because when you are a clap ridden scumbag, the women you have been with count for nothing, you eyes are only on the next slag, so your history is irrelivant to you. We are faithful husbands, who love our club and cherish our successes. they are scabby beauts, and there are always more beauty than there are good people, it is the way of the world!
God, I'm drunk!!!