As I’ve been knockin' about on here for six months, have posted a bit (mainly a load of old cobblers, which some of you seemed to have enjoyed weirdly) I thought I should properly follow GOT etiquette and introduce myself. Sorry for being ass-backwards on this, it’s the tech-head in me, I’ve a tendency to bin manuals and ignore procedures and jump straight in, only to realise later that I’ve screwed up the project and put everyone’s backs up.
So I’m originally sound, born in Sefton Gen., early years in Toxteth then binned off to the deserts of the Middle East for several years of expatriation, returned to West Derby, then some time in Plazzyland. Back to the ‘pool in my late teens/early twenties, then moved to London for a few years. Since the late nineties I’ve been in Bristol, the graveyard of ambition. I live with Mrs d’ indica who’s a Charlton girl but very much a blue by proxy, despite being banned from Goodison for many years for being a Jonah. I’m also having a secret affair with Marion Cotillard… secret from her anyway.
I’ve been a toffeeweb reader for many years, so knew about GOT, though I’ve been averse to forums since many flame wars back in the day, but as I’ve mellowed and become a generally more tolerant soul I decided to join as the banter seemed good-natured, the discussions on the mighty blues were edifying and after discovering such legendary threads as ‘NEA animals’, ‘Trabb-Watch’ and ‘I secretly fancy’.
How did I become an Evertonian? It could have all been so different lads…. I come from a pretty big Irish-Catholic family, and (almost) all of them are from the dark side, including the arl fella. The first game I ever went to was Liverpool vs. Wolves in the late 70s, and even though I was still a nappy head, I think I wanted the lads in orange and black to win out (I’ve still got a soft spot for Wolves and this is the only thing that can explain it). Anfield left me cold, there was no thrill of the Kop for this nipper, Liverpool just never felt right to me. And then there was Everton… enigmatic Everton. Everton with those classy blue kits, they played in this mysterious ‘good park’ that seemed a million miles away even though it was just down the road. Everton with that weird little castle thing on the badge that I’d gone past with me mam. Everton with that strange incantation…. “What does that mean Dad??” “Nothing but the best is good enough, son”…. Wow.
Everton who were disparaged by my loudmouth Uncles. But an Everton who were defended to the death by one Aunty, an Aunty who was like my big sister, an Aunty who influenced me loads, who bought me records in Woolies and took me down Blacklers for my first pair of jeans much to me ma’s annoyance.
Then we left Liverpool for Saudi Arabia, following the old man and his mad new job. For years I had no contact with English League football, and while I played loads, I could have told you more about the NFL than the First Division. When we got back to Merseyside and I got back into school, it was 1984. I played footy with a sound bunch of blue lads, and now I had me mates. It was time to defy my family and nail my colours to the mast. Those colours were blue and white and that summer was spent reliving the heroics of that win over Watford. I wanted to be Graeme Sharp more than anything in the world… more than Nik Kershaw even. After the next couple of years, I thought we’d win everything forever. The first time I got to Goodison I was about 13/14 and I felt like I’d come home, I ‘kin loved it.
All time favourite player? It’s an obvious one but its Big Dunc, he was the hero of my time, when I went week in week out, went to my first aways, the one year I’ve had a season ticket. But I’ve got to say that Arteta runs him close, seeing that level of class and flair in a blue shirt made my heart go woooooooaaaaaaarrrrrrr.
And now? Well how fortunate are we that it’s a struggle to come up with a favourite? Leighton the consummate blue? Seamus, that tricksy little conqueror, fast becoming the best RB in the world? Ross, the raw Gwladys hero that we all wish we was? All contenders, but, and maybe its because I’m getting older, for me its Sylvain the Milkman, that colossus at the heart of our defence, that ever reliable ultra professional.
Some of you know my views on POP, so I’m not going to open myself to further ridicule, let’s leave it at that.
Now, I’ve got a Masters dissertation to hand in at the end of August, and while I’ve been procrastinating and enjoying some well needed time off after closing my business down at the end of last year, its time for me to get my arse in gear and get it finished, starting tomorrow morning.
So I’ll be only periodically dipping into the forums during the forthcoming South American escapades, otherwise I’ll be getting nowt done. But I’ll be back with a vengeance when the new season starts.
I was back up to see my Nan in April (she passed not long after, so my heart really went out to Leighton), and I went the Villa game. Took the arl fella; he’s not partisan and he’s really more of a Rugby League man, that’s what he played. He loved it. After the RS went out of the cup, he said to me ma, “well, I’ve still got Everton in there haven’t I?”
COYB.
So I’m originally sound, born in Sefton Gen., early years in Toxteth then binned off to the deserts of the Middle East for several years of expatriation, returned to West Derby, then some time in Plazzyland. Back to the ‘pool in my late teens/early twenties, then moved to London for a few years. Since the late nineties I’ve been in Bristol, the graveyard of ambition. I live with Mrs d’ indica who’s a Charlton girl but very much a blue by proxy, despite being banned from Goodison for many years for being a Jonah. I’m also having a secret affair with Marion Cotillard… secret from her anyway.
I’ve been a toffeeweb reader for many years, so knew about GOT, though I’ve been averse to forums since many flame wars back in the day, but as I’ve mellowed and become a generally more tolerant soul I decided to join as the banter seemed good-natured, the discussions on the mighty blues were edifying and after discovering such legendary threads as ‘NEA animals’, ‘Trabb-Watch’ and ‘I secretly fancy’.
How did I become an Evertonian? It could have all been so different lads…. I come from a pretty big Irish-Catholic family, and (almost) all of them are from the dark side, including the arl fella. The first game I ever went to was Liverpool vs. Wolves in the late 70s, and even though I was still a nappy head, I think I wanted the lads in orange and black to win out (I’ve still got a soft spot for Wolves and this is the only thing that can explain it). Anfield left me cold, there was no thrill of the Kop for this nipper, Liverpool just never felt right to me. And then there was Everton… enigmatic Everton. Everton with those classy blue kits, they played in this mysterious ‘good park’ that seemed a million miles away even though it was just down the road. Everton with that weird little castle thing on the badge that I’d gone past with me mam. Everton with that strange incantation…. “What does that mean Dad??” “Nothing but the best is good enough, son”…. Wow.
Everton who were disparaged by my loudmouth Uncles. But an Everton who were defended to the death by one Aunty, an Aunty who was like my big sister, an Aunty who influenced me loads, who bought me records in Woolies and took me down Blacklers for my first pair of jeans much to me ma’s annoyance.
Then we left Liverpool for Saudi Arabia, following the old man and his mad new job. For years I had no contact with English League football, and while I played loads, I could have told you more about the NFL than the First Division. When we got back to Merseyside and I got back into school, it was 1984. I played footy with a sound bunch of blue lads, and now I had me mates. It was time to defy my family and nail my colours to the mast. Those colours were blue and white and that summer was spent reliving the heroics of that win over Watford. I wanted to be Graeme Sharp more than anything in the world… more than Nik Kershaw even. After the next couple of years, I thought we’d win everything forever. The first time I got to Goodison I was about 13/14 and I felt like I’d come home, I ‘kin loved it.
All time favourite player? It’s an obvious one but its Big Dunc, he was the hero of my time, when I went week in week out, went to my first aways, the one year I’ve had a season ticket. But I’ve got to say that Arteta runs him close, seeing that level of class and flair in a blue shirt made my heart go woooooooaaaaaaarrrrrrr.
And now? Well how fortunate are we that it’s a struggle to come up with a favourite? Leighton the consummate blue? Seamus, that tricksy little conqueror, fast becoming the best RB in the world? Ross, the raw Gwladys hero that we all wish we was? All contenders, but, and maybe its because I’m getting older, for me its Sylvain the Milkman, that colossus at the heart of our defence, that ever reliable ultra professional.
Some of you know my views on POP, so I’m not going to open myself to further ridicule, let’s leave it at that.
Now, I’ve got a Masters dissertation to hand in at the end of August, and while I’ve been procrastinating and enjoying some well needed time off after closing my business down at the end of last year, its time for me to get my arse in gear and get it finished, starting tomorrow morning.
So I’ll be only periodically dipping into the forums during the forthcoming South American escapades, otherwise I’ll be getting nowt done. But I’ll be back with a vengeance when the new season starts.
I was back up to see my Nan in April (she passed not long after, so my heart really went out to Leighton), and I went the Villa game. Took the arl fella; he’s not partisan and he’s really more of a Rugby League man, that’s what he played. He loved it. After the RS went out of the cup, he said to me ma, “well, I’ve still got Everton in there haven’t I?”
COYB.
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