Fanzine Fanzone - Times Online - WBLG: Everton: ground share idea builds on interwoven past
Ed Bottomley
Last week David Moyes threw his tuppence worth into the footballing wishing well. He has a lot to wish for: fitness, points and a new place to call home. Close to the top of his list must be an end to the stadium worries that stalk him – and Moyes stuck his neck out saying that he wasn’t opposed to sharing a ground with Liverpool.
None of us should be against sharing a stadium with Liverpool, no matter how much our knees jerk against it. The rivalry between the Blues and the Reds is different from others; we are related. People forget that back in the sepia-tinged pre-history of football, we sloshed about in the same primordial soup. For nearly 30 years we shared a matchday programme – with Everton and Liverpool Reserves one week, and Liverpool and Everton Reserves the next. There is a natural symmetry to a ground share with the Reds. One club sliced into two early in our common history. Now we could be grafted together like conjoined twins, once split but reunited again; still with our own identities but sharing living space. The Allianz Arena in Munich offers obvious inspiration; depending on who is playing there the whole exterior is lit up in blue, red, or white (a nice touch for a bid to be a World Cup stadium). The commercial logic is as certain as death and taxes. It is cold, hard and brutal. Match-day takings at the Emirates Stadium average £3.3m, the equivalent figure at Goodison is £800,000 and at Anfield £1.3m. And both clubs are falling further behind; we are running barefoot in sand, Arsenal, Man United, City, Chelsea and (soon) Spurs are on a track, wearing spikes and taking steroids. Sharing a state-of-the-art stadium would, not only substantially increase match-day revenues, but also reduce the stadium operating costs for each club, thus leaving us both in a stronger financial position.
For fans though, this isn’t about sensibly stated facts, it’s about deep-rooted emotions. No Evertonian wants to say goodbye to Goodison because we worry that we would be waving adieu to all the legends and memories. Dixie Dean, the gluttonous striker who went from zero to sixty in one season. Tommy Lawton, our Brylcreemed assassin, shooting daggers at goal whenever he played or Alex Young, fine bone china skillfully sliding through a bull market of defenders. As these tales, and countless more, are passed on we still have Goodison to frame them. Both clubs have stellar histories – and the stardust must sit heavily on the shoulders of the current players.
But what if we leave the Old Lady? The very real fear of many is that if we turn our back on Goodison we turn away everything that has made us great, and our history would float off into the horizon until it is a tiny speck. When baseball fans drive past the old Detroit Tigers ground, where Joe DiMaggio and Babe Ruth played, they wistfully pine for the old wooden stadium, forgetting about the glorious new one. History warps and twists in our hearts and perhaps occupies more space than it should. Matthew Syed has written about the “recency effect”, where there is a “tendency to weigh recent events more than earlier events” but equally we should not be ruled by history, a place where legends grow and the truth sometimes shrinks.
The barren interregnum between the mid-eighties and now, with both teams still striving for anything like the success they had back then, has clearly frayed nerves. The media leeches and ticks want to chime in, but this isn’t their debate – this is our decision, not theirs.
Somewhere along the line, the friendly derby took on a nasty tinge, and many fans sway against a groundshare between the two clubs. Even at its very worst though, the relationship between Blue and Red on Merseyside isn’t even close to Barca-Real or Rangers-Celtic; teams press-ganged by history into mutual enmity. This is neither Spanish morbo nor religious sectarianism nor Italian vendetta. This is sibling rivalry. There was a time when we sat together, sang together (”Merseyside, Merseyside!”) and dominated the league together. This changed. We hate it when our friends become successful. We are jealous because they didn’t miss the boat for the top four like we did. We now get under their skin because we are starting to catch up after years spent beached at the wrong half of the table.
Cabbies Jimmy Plunkett and Tommy Atkinson set up a mile of red and blue scarves, an umbilical cord from Anfield to Goodison after the Hillsbrough Disaster. After Rhys Jones’ murder, Z-Cars played at Anfield and the Liverpool Unites charity put Everton in purple shirts – mixing the colours of the two tribes. Does solidarity like this always have to come after tragedy? Special-relationship is an overused and cliched phrase, parrotted out by goons like Bush and Blair – but like it or not Everton and Liverpool do have a special relationship.
Some will shake their heads until this idea is shot down. Some Reds will scream until their faces turn blue, and some Blues will shout until their cheeks turn red. But to retain our history, a communal stadium with Liverpool, is the best idea for the People’s Club: fact. How can we guarantee that we don’t see our hard fought history flutter away? By combining with our historic rivals, meeting across Stanley Park, by swallowing our pride and sharing with the enemy in a halfway house of Blue and Red. A stadium that befits the most successful footballing square mile in Britain.
As it stands Merseyside could lose out to that footballing mecca, Milton Keynes, in the 2018 World Cup stakes. It is time for a proper debate; it is time to hear from Kenwright and Earl, Hicks and Gillett and from Liverpool City Council, whose diffidence is a disgrace.
Ed Bottomley
Last week David Moyes threw his tuppence worth into the footballing wishing well. He has a lot to wish for: fitness, points and a new place to call home. Close to the top of his list must be an end to the stadium worries that stalk him – and Moyes stuck his neck out saying that he wasn’t opposed to sharing a ground with Liverpool.
None of us should be against sharing a stadium with Liverpool, no matter how much our knees jerk against it. The rivalry between the Blues and the Reds is different from others; we are related. People forget that back in the sepia-tinged pre-history of football, we sloshed about in the same primordial soup. For nearly 30 years we shared a matchday programme – with Everton and Liverpool Reserves one week, and Liverpool and Everton Reserves the next. There is a natural symmetry to a ground share with the Reds. One club sliced into two early in our common history. Now we could be grafted together like conjoined twins, once split but reunited again; still with our own identities but sharing living space. The Allianz Arena in Munich offers obvious inspiration; depending on who is playing there the whole exterior is lit up in blue, red, or white (a nice touch for a bid to be a World Cup stadium). The commercial logic is as certain as death and taxes. It is cold, hard and brutal. Match-day takings at the Emirates Stadium average £3.3m, the equivalent figure at Goodison is £800,000 and at Anfield £1.3m. And both clubs are falling further behind; we are running barefoot in sand, Arsenal, Man United, City, Chelsea and (soon) Spurs are on a track, wearing spikes and taking steroids. Sharing a state-of-the-art stadium would, not only substantially increase match-day revenues, but also reduce the stadium operating costs for each club, thus leaving us both in a stronger financial position.
For fans though, this isn’t about sensibly stated facts, it’s about deep-rooted emotions. No Evertonian wants to say goodbye to Goodison because we worry that we would be waving adieu to all the legends and memories. Dixie Dean, the gluttonous striker who went from zero to sixty in one season. Tommy Lawton, our Brylcreemed assassin, shooting daggers at goal whenever he played or Alex Young, fine bone china skillfully sliding through a bull market of defenders. As these tales, and countless more, are passed on we still have Goodison to frame them. Both clubs have stellar histories – and the stardust must sit heavily on the shoulders of the current players.
But what if we leave the Old Lady? The very real fear of many is that if we turn our back on Goodison we turn away everything that has made us great, and our history would float off into the horizon until it is a tiny speck. When baseball fans drive past the old Detroit Tigers ground, where Joe DiMaggio and Babe Ruth played, they wistfully pine for the old wooden stadium, forgetting about the glorious new one. History warps and twists in our hearts and perhaps occupies more space than it should. Matthew Syed has written about the “recency effect”, where there is a “tendency to weigh recent events more than earlier events” but equally we should not be ruled by history, a place where legends grow and the truth sometimes shrinks.
The barren interregnum between the mid-eighties and now, with both teams still striving for anything like the success they had back then, has clearly frayed nerves. The media leeches and ticks want to chime in, but this isn’t their debate – this is our decision, not theirs.
Somewhere along the line, the friendly derby took on a nasty tinge, and many fans sway against a groundshare between the two clubs. Even at its very worst though, the relationship between Blue and Red on Merseyside isn’t even close to Barca-Real or Rangers-Celtic; teams press-ganged by history into mutual enmity. This is neither Spanish morbo nor religious sectarianism nor Italian vendetta. This is sibling rivalry. There was a time when we sat together, sang together (”Merseyside, Merseyside!”) and dominated the league together. This changed. We hate it when our friends become successful. We are jealous because they didn’t miss the boat for the top four like we did. We now get under their skin because we are starting to catch up after years spent beached at the wrong half of the table.
Cabbies Jimmy Plunkett and Tommy Atkinson set up a mile of red and blue scarves, an umbilical cord from Anfield to Goodison after the Hillsbrough Disaster. After Rhys Jones’ murder, Z-Cars played at Anfield and the Liverpool Unites charity put Everton in purple shirts – mixing the colours of the two tribes. Does solidarity like this always have to come after tragedy? Special-relationship is an overused and cliched phrase, parrotted out by goons like Bush and Blair – but like it or not Everton and Liverpool do have a special relationship.
Some will shake their heads until this idea is shot down. Some Reds will scream until their faces turn blue, and some Blues will shout until their cheeks turn red. But to retain our history, a communal stadium with Liverpool, is the best idea for the People’s Club: fact. How can we guarantee that we don’t see our hard fought history flutter away? By combining with our historic rivals, meeting across Stanley Park, by swallowing our pride and sharing with the enemy in a halfway house of Blue and Red. A stadium that befits the most successful footballing square mile in Britain.
As it stands Merseyside could lose out to that footballing mecca, Milton Keynes, in the 2018 World Cup stakes. It is time for a proper debate; it is time to hear from Kenwright and Earl, Hicks and Gillett and from Liverpool City Council, whose diffidence is a disgrace.
