deliverance
Player Valuation: £500k
I moved away to the west midlands in the early 80s for work but partly to get away from the city.The burgeoning monster across the park was destroying us, Evertonians hide from admitting the LFC effect and younger ones don't understand wtf it's about, although recent events may be changing that.
LFC were second division, too young to remember myself, but Evertonians through the 60s and early 70s had LFC as a jumped up ale house team playing "crab football" (side to side passing) while we were royalty the oldest, truest best supported team of the city famous for playing with style and charisma one of the kings of British football.
The problem was while we preened like so many titled dukes the scruffy oiks from across the park were coming out every week and running over teams - we won stuff because we were the mersey millionaires - they won because they fought tooth and nail to make ordinary players become a great team.
They had inspiration permeating every nook and cranny of a decrepid old stadium that didn't even have a water supply at journeys start, every nob who went to support them felt it and it came from Shankly.
His foundations, vision and bravery have never been matched by us and we pay the price to this day.
When Kendal brought thunder and lightening back to Goodison I only watched the great team once, convinced I was the jinx that brought the painful 70s. But we still lost the big games to the monster, cup finals no less, hinting this was a transient moment not a dynasty, and so it was.I don't buy the Heysel excuse.
Big Joe was the nearest in my eyes to "have the stuff" but all those wasted years of board smugness, grandeur and indulgence came home to bite with the advent of the Prem and the admission of "agent Johnson". Big Joe was in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Our great history has maintained the "big club" illusion but 10 years of absolute dross culminating in us actually helping the monster next door by throwing a game when they were at their lowest ebb then surrendering to them at Wembley has nailed us as woeful mid table c#ck suckers.
I write everton songs on my guitar, loads of 'em, I've put words to "z cars", they're brilliant and worthy of production but my voice ain't great, really need a drummer, vocalist, music producer.
In all honesty I'm full of ideas regarding inspirational music, videos and general communication to reignite the bond between club and fans but I'm holding back till the dead hand of Moyes goes.
Beyond my family and EFC I like chocolate, particularly easter eggs with lots of packaging (feck global warming) and I don't think there is such a thing as a TV that's too big.
My favourite T-shirts are about 20 yrs old with massive holes on the belly through pulling threads to floss your teeth - a sort of cotton goretex material that I just can't find anywhere.
I have my own business and work 3 hours a day so I can make play doh figures with my youngest grand daughter.
LFC were second division, too young to remember myself, but Evertonians through the 60s and early 70s had LFC as a jumped up ale house team playing "crab football" (side to side passing) while we were royalty the oldest, truest best supported team of the city famous for playing with style and charisma one of the kings of British football.
The problem was while we preened like so many titled dukes the scruffy oiks from across the park were coming out every week and running over teams - we won stuff because we were the mersey millionaires - they won because they fought tooth and nail to make ordinary players become a great team.
They had inspiration permeating every nook and cranny of a decrepid old stadium that didn't even have a water supply at journeys start, every nob who went to support them felt it and it came from Shankly.
His foundations, vision and bravery have never been matched by us and we pay the price to this day.
When Kendal brought thunder and lightening back to Goodison I only watched the great team once, convinced I was the jinx that brought the painful 70s. But we still lost the big games to the monster, cup finals no less, hinting this was a transient moment not a dynasty, and so it was.I don't buy the Heysel excuse.
Big Joe was the nearest in my eyes to "have the stuff" but all those wasted years of board smugness, grandeur and indulgence came home to bite with the advent of the Prem and the admission of "agent Johnson". Big Joe was in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Our great history has maintained the "big club" illusion but 10 years of absolute dross culminating in us actually helping the monster next door by throwing a game when they were at their lowest ebb then surrendering to them at Wembley has nailed us as woeful mid table c#ck suckers.
I write everton songs on my guitar, loads of 'em, I've put words to "z cars", they're brilliant and worthy of production but my voice ain't great, really need a drummer, vocalist, music producer.
In all honesty I'm full of ideas regarding inspirational music, videos and general communication to reignite the bond between club and fans but I'm holding back till the dead hand of Moyes goes.
Beyond my family and EFC I like chocolate, particularly easter eggs with lots of packaging (feck global warming) and I don't think there is such a thing as a TV that's too big.
My favourite T-shirts are about 20 yrs old with massive holes on the belly through pulling threads to floss your teeth - a sort of cotton goretex material that I just can't find anywhere.
I have my own business and work 3 hours a day so I can make play doh figures with my youngest grand daughter.
