Yeah I’m not too arsed about it either. But it’s going happen isn’t it? And it involves your beloved Everton who hopefully are over their best impression of those jarg little blue pills that your mate brings you back from Thailand, in promising much but not even delivering a semi.
The season’s gone to sh*t a bit as the perfect, almost laughable storm, concocted itself on the weekend. First we fielded eleven sh*thouses on a field who were dumped out of a home quarter final against relegation haunted Wigan. Then to rub it in Wigan got a plum lower league semi-final draw at Wembley which we would have relished, not only that but they also likely by this draw reduced one of the European places that we are chasing in the league. Still not satisfied Evertonians? Well that’s ok as Lady Luck put on her massive 12” dildo, bent us over and nudged Liverpool above us in the league for the first time this season.
If we do one thing good then it’s absolutely sh*tting it. Sh*tting it on toast, yer mar, yer dar: the lot.
In a week full of recriminations and haunted day dreams for many I took a conscious decision to try and swerve thinking about Everton as every time I think of what may have been it makes me fume and wish for the total eradication of anyone on the payroll at the minute and that’s a little too extreme for someone of my age as I should know better. These previews aren’t about me though, they’re about you. So how are you feeling dear reader? You got rid of the empty pit in your stomach and are looking forward to using this as a springboard to cement a Europa League place? Oh heady f*cking days indeed Mr Neville. Finishing in the top ten is exactly where our 135 year history was leading to. This is the perfect path of fate that’s lead us here.
[Poor language removed] off Everton. [Poor language removed] right off. And if you’re a player or manager or board member that’s happy with soon to be nineteen years sin trophy then do one. It’s not a misplaced sense of entitlement – on the contrary we’ve been terribly understanding over this whole meh period in our history. Many of us fret for what may happen if we do indeed change manager but were a bit fed up of choking when it matters most. So swerve the rallying calls and gun fights with a knife and get back to making us happy to see an Everton team actually go after the opposition. The Mersey Millionaires days have long gone but we’ll never tolerate a sh*thouse performance and long may that continue. There’ll be no scarves over our head and dreamy collective song sung for the sole purpose of impressing the watching cameras. Love Us! Loves Us PLEASE! No, we’ll call you a tit. Because that’s what you are. And if you don’t get what we are by now then you’re an even bigger tit.
So City it is then. Last year’s Champions with a nostril full of Goodison fear as we usually turn them over for some reason. They’re currently finding it hard to find relative motivation for their league campaign due to them already winning the league in a fairytale setting in the final seconds of the season from their hated rivals. How much would you give for that? And because in response to that United have got slightly miffed and powered to a twelve point lead over them this season with games rapidly running out.
It’s left City with team full of galacticos and some not quite galacticos but on galactico wages. There have been all sorts of fingers pointed about management tactics and absent player motivation, but where do you go from that beautiful moment of injury time league wins against your most despised? It must be somewhat like banging the fittest girl in school at Colomendy. Every other [Poor language removed] is going to be red with envy but full of resented admiration for your deeds. And for you, well, you’re City. When you’ve showered her scent off and the memories of that great evening dim with age then every other bird after that has got a lot to live up. It may be that because you’re a bit of a tramp you’ll never ever pull that class of girl again. Was it worth it City? I bet it so f*cking was.
Their manager is one bad Fabio tool with his Latin mane, questionable dress sense and animated persona. Make no mistake about it you’d be anxious if someone like that started talking to yer mar on a family holiday while your father was half cut getting sunburn on the mini golf with your sister. He’s Mills and Boon catnip to women of that generation.
He’s also had a ridiculous amount of money to spend which has been more than well documented so we’ll swerve the resentment in this preview but maintain the right to accuse them of destroying football itself next season if we truly are in the sh*t.
It’s hard to find many players that you or I would happily cheer in an Everton shirt, not talent wise of course because they’ve got some ace players but personality wise. Your average City player is awake for sixteen hours of the day of which fourteen of them are spent with Dre Dre BEATS diamond encrusted headphones on looking moody while listening to gangster rap and thinking they get it despite being brought up on a middle class estate in the home counties or in Seville.
They’re on the back of four straight wins and you can see why. Aguero, Tevez or Dzeko up front? Oh aye. Nasri, Yaya Toure or Silva providing the service? Why not. Rodwell and Barry dominating the middle of the park? Well not quite but the others are sound so you get the picture.
Basically you know loads about their players as you see them doing boss things most weeks on the telly. Mercifully you’ve also seen them same players toil against our players and usually come off worse over the last few years.
It’s a beautiful thing and this is probably the precursor for them swatting a half arsed Everton team aside but there’s not much better than plucky “little” Everton making their quilts scream and securing the points. The backdrop of their disenchanted meffy fanbase truly hating us makes it all the sweeter. You’ll never be the Everton. Not even with them last minute title wins you three star bells.
For what team takes the field in royal blue well that’s another thing. Knowing Moyes it will probably be the same team as against Wigan. There’s been various shouts of introducing the lids but while there’s a sniff of a European place you and I both know that’s not going to happen. I would like, if not only to try and gain some traction and promise of better times next season but then I’d probably make a sh*te football manager so what do I know?
F*cking hell Jelavic. You break my heart. We need to give him a rest of games desperately. Whether Anichebe, Vellios or the young local lad McAleny slotting for fun in the stiffs can do better is open for debate but I’d like to at least try and find out. The advent of a horribly out of sorts Jelavic making me cringe up front is not weekend enjoyment.
I wasn’t in the paddock so I don’t know what the full Fellaini story is. He is prone to ambling around sh*t games so maybe its been one too many. He’s human so he’s susceptible to poor form and moments of madness but when he’s one of the top earners at the club we expect better than fluttering his eyelashes at potential career moves and ostracising the supporters by being a tit. But then when he’s taking lessons from his manager where is the difference? He’ll probably start anyway and tends to do well against City.
The midfield is a sore point. Neville and Osman is like the ghosts of Walter Smith’s Everton have leapt out of the very soil at the Old Lady and skull f*cked us back to some dark, dark days. Never ever again please. Osman has been sh*te for a couple of months and Neville for about two years now. Let’s try something else and if that involves a young local lad like Barkley then all the better. Pienaar and Mirallas best do something to get us excited over this last dull part of the season too.
Wigan done unspeakable acts to our defence in that four minute spell but it’s hard to pin point a scapegoat. Usually it’s Heitinga but it was all of them really. Jagielka is goosed so they’re probably all going to start again. Unless Duffy gets a go and that’s unlikely. Mucha didn’t do anything terribly wrong but you feel a bit more comfy with Howard in goal. Maybe it’s fear of the unknown and I’m being a bit harsh. One thing’s for sure – we need a decent goalkeeper as when was the last time you could say an Everton keeper was man of the match or done a string of saves that kept us in a game? Go on have a think.
I’m struggling for the right words to finish the preview, the ones where we end with “get in them blues” or “these are sh*te these”. I suppose over the years Everton inspires its own brand of apathy towards them.
Do you really go the game for the footie anyway? Everton are likely to [Poor language removed] the day at some point but they’ll never diminish the first bevvy with your mates, your first goal scorer coupon coming in or the pie dinner you tenderly protect on the way home before devouring in the warmth of your abode.
The tits involved in the weekend’s game – players, management and owners will get the comeuppance as in that one cup tie they've truly started the beginning of the end.
But this Saturday afternoon for St Domingo’s: it’s time to move on.
The season’s gone to sh*t a bit as the perfect, almost laughable storm, concocted itself on the weekend. First we fielded eleven sh*thouses on a field who were dumped out of a home quarter final against relegation haunted Wigan. Then to rub it in Wigan got a plum lower league semi-final draw at Wembley which we would have relished, not only that but they also likely by this draw reduced one of the European places that we are chasing in the league. Still not satisfied Evertonians? Well that’s ok as Lady Luck put on her massive 12” dildo, bent us over and nudged Liverpool above us in the league for the first time this season.
If we do one thing good then it’s absolutely sh*tting it. Sh*tting it on toast, yer mar, yer dar: the lot.
In a week full of recriminations and haunted day dreams for many I took a conscious decision to try and swerve thinking about Everton as every time I think of what may have been it makes me fume and wish for the total eradication of anyone on the payroll at the minute and that’s a little too extreme for someone of my age as I should know better. These previews aren’t about me though, they’re about you. So how are you feeling dear reader? You got rid of the empty pit in your stomach and are looking forward to using this as a springboard to cement a Europa League place? Oh heady f*cking days indeed Mr Neville. Finishing in the top ten is exactly where our 135 year history was leading to. This is the perfect path of fate that’s lead us here.
[Poor language removed] off Everton. [Poor language removed] right off. And if you’re a player or manager or board member that’s happy with soon to be nineteen years sin trophy then do one. It’s not a misplaced sense of entitlement – on the contrary we’ve been terribly understanding over this whole meh period in our history. Many of us fret for what may happen if we do indeed change manager but were a bit fed up of choking when it matters most. So swerve the rallying calls and gun fights with a knife and get back to making us happy to see an Everton team actually go after the opposition. The Mersey Millionaires days have long gone but we’ll never tolerate a sh*thouse performance and long may that continue. There’ll be no scarves over our head and dreamy collective song sung for the sole purpose of impressing the watching cameras. Love Us! Loves Us PLEASE! No, we’ll call you a tit. Because that’s what you are. And if you don’t get what we are by now then you’re an even bigger tit.
So City it is then. Last year’s Champions with a nostril full of Goodison fear as we usually turn them over for some reason. They’re currently finding it hard to find relative motivation for their league campaign due to them already winning the league in a fairytale setting in the final seconds of the season from their hated rivals. How much would you give for that? And because in response to that United have got slightly miffed and powered to a twelve point lead over them this season with games rapidly running out.
It’s left City with team full of galacticos and some not quite galacticos but on galactico wages. There have been all sorts of fingers pointed about management tactics and absent player motivation, but where do you go from that beautiful moment of injury time league wins against your most despised? It must be somewhat like banging the fittest girl in school at Colomendy. Every other [Poor language removed] is going to be red with envy but full of resented admiration for your deeds. And for you, well, you’re City. When you’ve showered her scent off and the memories of that great evening dim with age then every other bird after that has got a lot to live up. It may be that because you’re a bit of a tramp you’ll never ever pull that class of girl again. Was it worth it City? I bet it so f*cking was.
Their manager is one bad Fabio tool with his Latin mane, questionable dress sense and animated persona. Make no mistake about it you’d be anxious if someone like that started talking to yer mar on a family holiday while your father was half cut getting sunburn on the mini golf with your sister. He’s Mills and Boon catnip to women of that generation.
He’s also had a ridiculous amount of money to spend which has been more than well documented so we’ll swerve the resentment in this preview but maintain the right to accuse them of destroying football itself next season if we truly are in the sh*t.
It’s hard to find many players that you or I would happily cheer in an Everton shirt, not talent wise of course because they’ve got some ace players but personality wise. Your average City player is awake for sixteen hours of the day of which fourteen of them are spent with Dre Dre BEATS diamond encrusted headphones on looking moody while listening to gangster rap and thinking they get it despite being brought up on a middle class estate in the home counties or in Seville.
They’re on the back of four straight wins and you can see why. Aguero, Tevez or Dzeko up front? Oh aye. Nasri, Yaya Toure or Silva providing the service? Why not. Rodwell and Barry dominating the middle of the park? Well not quite but the others are sound so you get the picture.
Basically you know loads about their players as you see them doing boss things most weeks on the telly. Mercifully you’ve also seen them same players toil against our players and usually come off worse over the last few years.
It’s a beautiful thing and this is probably the precursor for them swatting a half arsed Everton team aside but there’s not much better than plucky “little” Everton making their quilts scream and securing the points. The backdrop of their disenchanted meffy fanbase truly hating us makes it all the sweeter. You’ll never be the Everton. Not even with them last minute title wins you three star bells.
For what team takes the field in royal blue well that’s another thing. Knowing Moyes it will probably be the same team as against Wigan. There’s been various shouts of introducing the lids but while there’s a sniff of a European place you and I both know that’s not going to happen. I would like, if not only to try and gain some traction and promise of better times next season but then I’d probably make a sh*te football manager so what do I know?
F*cking hell Jelavic. You break my heart. We need to give him a rest of games desperately. Whether Anichebe, Vellios or the young local lad McAleny slotting for fun in the stiffs can do better is open for debate but I’d like to at least try and find out. The advent of a horribly out of sorts Jelavic making me cringe up front is not weekend enjoyment.
I wasn’t in the paddock so I don’t know what the full Fellaini story is. He is prone to ambling around sh*t games so maybe its been one too many. He’s human so he’s susceptible to poor form and moments of madness but when he’s one of the top earners at the club we expect better than fluttering his eyelashes at potential career moves and ostracising the supporters by being a tit. But then when he’s taking lessons from his manager where is the difference? He’ll probably start anyway and tends to do well against City.
The midfield is a sore point. Neville and Osman is like the ghosts of Walter Smith’s Everton have leapt out of the very soil at the Old Lady and skull f*cked us back to some dark, dark days. Never ever again please. Osman has been sh*te for a couple of months and Neville for about two years now. Let’s try something else and if that involves a young local lad like Barkley then all the better. Pienaar and Mirallas best do something to get us excited over this last dull part of the season too.
Wigan done unspeakable acts to our defence in that four minute spell but it’s hard to pin point a scapegoat. Usually it’s Heitinga but it was all of them really. Jagielka is goosed so they’re probably all going to start again. Unless Duffy gets a go and that’s unlikely. Mucha didn’t do anything terribly wrong but you feel a bit more comfy with Howard in goal. Maybe it’s fear of the unknown and I’m being a bit harsh. One thing’s for sure – we need a decent goalkeeper as when was the last time you could say an Everton keeper was man of the match or done a string of saves that kept us in a game? Go on have a think.
I’m struggling for the right words to finish the preview, the ones where we end with “get in them blues” or “these are sh*te these”. I suppose over the years Everton inspires its own brand of apathy towards them.
Do you really go the game for the footie anyway? Everton are likely to [Poor language removed] the day at some point but they’ll never diminish the first bevvy with your mates, your first goal scorer coupon coming in or the pie dinner you tenderly protect on the way home before devouring in the warmth of your abode.
The tits involved in the weekend’s game – players, management and owners will get the comeuppance as in that one cup tie they've truly started the beginning of the end.
But this Saturday afternoon for St Domingo’s: it’s time to move on.
