How did you become an Evertonian?

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I went out for some milk in 1928 and accidentally walked into Goodison as Dixie Dean scored his 60th. Forgot the milk and everything.

I mean my dad took me to the match in the '80's and was hooked. How could you not be hooked on that?
You're still looking good for your great age Groucho;)lol
 
Born = chosen = proud and if there are any Norwegians lurking in this thread YES i am bitter if it makes you feel superior...alas you wouldn't understand, so feck you !!!!!
 

Born a blue.

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I went out for some milk in 1928 and accidentally walked into Goodison as Dixie Dean scored his 60th. Forgot the milk and everything.

I mean my dad took me to the match in the '80's and was hooked. How could you not be hooked on that?
why spoil a good story with the truth? are you a reporter?
 

2013. My interest in football had increased with each subsequent World Cup, and my friends who supported a side always told me club football is a whole new level. Wanted to start supporting a Premier League team, but refused to glory hunt. After a few hours of research, Everton was the clear choice. I'd find out very quickly that while I thought I chose Everton, Everton actually chose me.

The first match I watched was a 2-2 draw against Spurs on April 7, and I have missed only a handful of matches in the last 2 1/2 seasons, as I'm hopelessly addicted. Envious of all of you who got to witness greats like Alan Ball, Graeme Sharp, Howard Kendall (RIP) and the '85 European champions, and Big Dunc. Even in such a short time as a fan, it's been a thrill to watch the club's core evolve and become infused with such promising young talent.

(Also, I know I lurk more than I post, but GOT has been nothing short of great - I've learned so much through this place. There's obviously the ins and outs of Everton history, but without GOT, I wouldn't know a lid from a ted, would miss out on endless strings of puns, and would have so many hours (days?) I wouldn't know what to do with if it weren't for the 2,000 page transfer window threads. Hope to share a pint with you all at Goodison sooner rather than later! Cheers!)
 
All my mates supported the usual teams. Barca, Real, the Manc teams, Chelsea, Arsenal, even the Reds. I wanted something different. Then came plucky little Everton. Went to Goodison- first time was when we beat Arsenal 1-0 curtesy of an Andy Johnson last minute goal. The atmosphere that day won my heart. I'd obviously heard of Liverpool and the famous Anfield. But I'd been there too on a European night, and this felt better. It felt like home. A place where I actually mattered. A place where thousands of people showed up for one common purpose. These fans weren't plastic. You could feel the tradition. The history. The smell of tobacco hundred years old in the air. Born, not manufactured.

Why would somebody support Everton? Not the best history. Not the richest. There's a big chance we won't win anything again ever. The way this business, yes not game, business is being run you need a billionaire to win something of value. So why did I choose Everton? Why do so many others along with me support a lost cause? I didn't. I was chosen. We do not choose, we are Chosen.

I did a bit of research. We were always overshadowed by Liverpool. Even during our most successful period, they were somehow better. And then there was everything after that. Barely surviving in the league. But for some reason, no matter how much I tried to support Chelsea or Liverpool, whenever they played Everton I'd find myself jumping up and down when the Toffees scored. When Liverpool beat us in a derby, I felt true heartbreak. Like I wanted to cry. It was then that I realized where my true loyalties lie. I tried to make myself feel better by saying Liverpool is my team. But it just wouldn't convince me. Deep down I knew I was still crying. Hard to explain really. But I shouldn't need to. Those who understand need no explanation. Those who don't understand don't matter.

So I wanted to be different. Everton chose me. Started out as something I'd do when was I bored. Now I count down the days till the next game. Watching England isn't helping either. I'm waiting. Waiting to see a miracle. Waiting for us to truly live up to NSNO again. It may and probably never will happen again. But I can hope right? The dreaded H word. It's the hope that kills you. Time to change that. For over 25 years, we've settled for mediocrity. Now we've got a manager who believes in us. Our club. Our fans. He believes what you and I want to. He believes NSNO. Nothing but the best is good enough. Roberto Martinez believes Everton truly can be great once again. Here's to hoping he's right. COYB.
 
All my mates supported the usual teams. Barca, Real, the Manc teams, Chelsea, Arsenal, even the Reds. I wanted something different. Then came plucky little Everton. Went to Goodison- first time was when we beat Arsenal 1-0 curtesy of an Andy Johnson last minute goal. The atmosphere that day won my heart. I'd obviously heard of Liverpool and the famous Anfield. But I'd been there too on a European night, and this felt better. It felt like home. A place where I actually mattered. A place where thousands of people showed up for one common purpose. These fans weren't plastic. You could feel the tradition. The history. The smell of tobacco hundred years old in the air. Born, not manufactured.

Why would somebody support Everton? Not the best history. Not the richest. There's a big chance we won't win anything again ever. The way this business, yes not game, business is being run you need a billionaire to win something of value. So why did I choose Everton? Why do so many others along with me support a lost cause? I didn't. I was chosen. We do not choose, we are Chosen.

I did a bit of research. We were always overshadowed by Liverpool. Even during our most successful period, they were somehow better. And then there was everything after that. Barely surviving in the league. But for some reason, no matter how much I tried to support Chelsea or Liverpool, whenever they played Everton I'd find myself jumping up and down when the Toffees scored. When Liverpool beat us in a derby, I felt true heartbreak. Like I wanted to cry. It was then that I realized where my true loyalties lie. I tried to make myself feel better by saying Liverpool is my team. But it just wouldn't convince me. Deep down I knew I was still crying. Hard to explain really. But I shouldn't need to. Those who understand need no explanation. Those who don't understand don't matter.

So I wanted to be different. Everton chose me. Started out as something I'd do when was I bored. Now I count down the days till the next game. Watching England isn't helping either. I'm waiting. Waiting to see a miracle. Waiting for us to truly live up to NSNO again. It may and probably never will happen again. But I can hope right? The dreaded H word. It's the hope that kills you. Time to change that. For over 25 years, we've settled for mediocrity. Now we've got a manager who believes in us. Our club. Our fans. He believes what you and I want to. He believes NSNO. Nothing but the best is good enough. Roberto Martinez believes Everton truly can be great once again. Here's to hoping he's right. COYB.
Never forget that the RS didn't win the FA cup until 1965 and have spent eleven seasons in the old division 2. They're crap now and have been crap before. Pierce the fog of media hyperbole ; they're living on their dung heap of their perceived history.
 

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