The Everton Way

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Toffee Yann

Player Valuation: £25k
If I knew how to preface this, I'd write something insightful and introductory, but it's about as messy as last week's performance.

To the average observer, there’s nothing special about being an Evertonian; we’re not renown for travelling violence, at least not these days; we’ve never had televised celebrations of European cup glory, not in my lifetime; we haven’t broken the bank in a quest for dominance; there’s no new stadium on the horizon; a turnaround of three managers in fifteen years isn’t bad, but they haven’t been eras or dynasties.

So what makes us special? “Us” - as though the club, the players, and the fans all merge into one institution, living and breathing royal blue football. We, like any fandom, feel the lumbering machinations of big business TV deals and boardroom reshuffles, and struggle to carry the burden of three discarded points every other Saturday. Score a goal, we cheer; acquire a youthful striker, we allow our fantasies and pints to spill over, noticeably bubbling with glee at the prospect of overreaching. Even overachieving.

Why is that? Do we think of our players as serial underachievers? Do they (and, therefore, we) deserve more? Could we whip out the battered vinyl? “That knobhead Clattenburg/Atkinson….” “should never have given that…..” “clearly offside….” Yeah, we could recite a catalogue of injustices, wrongs, perceived affronts to impartiality and, in many places, we’d have a case. A case for whom? The time-travelling fifth official? Football isn’t kind; life isn’t fair; linesmen are unfit. Universal truths.

So why do we want more? That’s obvious. But surely a lot of Evertonians feel we, as an institution, deserve more. I do. I’ll hold my hands up and say “we are not a lucky club” as if there is some karmic debt, overdue for settlement. Why? I’ll wager a guess that it’s not because of the football we play and the league table. It’s the Everton way.

The Everton way? No, I don’t mean cocking up a penalty and surrendering a two goal lead against a winded West Ham. No, I don’t mean the no-nonsense Sunday league attitude and our players’ refusal to attend Am-Dram classes. No, I don’t mean our lack of the seemingly ubiquitous vindictiveness and sanctimonious piety that plagues the lofty circles of professional football. Our captain drives a Mondeo. Or is it a Vectra? Either way, it’s not a bright pink Land Rover or a Maserati. Our Gareth shrugged off the bite from that petulant Spanish exchange kid.

Why? Because he’s not a bell-end. Well, maybe he is, but that’s his business. In footballing circles, he acts like a professional. And that’s what Everton is. Professionalism. Not the sleek, sterile professionalism of property development, leverage, servicing of debts, corporate sponsorship and naming rights. No; it’s the realisation that football comes first, and that attitude seeps onto the pitch in a myriad of ways. The boys don’t steal ten yards for every free-kick or throw in (maybe they should), they don’t roll around as if they’ve stepped on a land mine (you’ll never get sympathy for that at Goodison), they don’t encircle the referee like a schoolyard version of “mmmmm, I’m tellin’ on you” – I’ll leave you to name names.

To an extent, I’m preaching to the converted, but there’s something cathartic about this, and about being an Everton fan. It’s a life lesson: you don’t always get what you want, what you deserve, or what you need. Does it matter that we set up the first former players’ foundation? Does it curry favour with the government or the city that the various charitable organisations provide services for the community? Are the fans that appreciative of the efforts the club go to in consulting shareholders and supporters groups? Do the media cover the generous gestures and tireless work of the many selfless individuals associated with Everton Football Club? No. Not really. As a business, Everton Football Club continues to give so much to the fans and the wider community of Liverpool and Merseyside, not because they expect anything back, but because it’s the right thing to do.

It’s about the fans, the ticket-buying, shirt-wearing, disciples who live and die by the actions of eleven men every Saturday afternoon. And it struck me today, when the season ticket renewal forms came through the post, that we are special. We do stand out. You know what’s on the front of the, admittedly, snazzy and polished package? Not the team, the captain, Romelu, Moshiri, Martinez, or even a farewell from Bill – which, given his recent experiences, would be understandable. It’s a quote from a bloke called Richard that I’ve never met, and probably never will. He’s a guy, just like me, who looks like he “goes the game” and maybe “has a few bevvies” with his old man, or maybe he meets his lad and has a catch-up through some cynical observations – “fing about Arsenal is, they always try an’ walk it in.”

That’s what got me. “Goodison is our heart and soul; our spiritual home.” He’s right. If I met him on the street and he asked to borrow my phone, I’d be wondering how quickly he could do the scally two-step with my new Sony. But at Goodison? In extra time? When Rom slots home a penalty to retake the lead? I could kiss him. It’d have to be a cup game though; I couldn’t handle that awkwardness for the rest of the season. Hell, my dad could be driving me up the wall, but for a few hours, in L4, he’s alright.

It doesn’t seem fair, then, that Everton can give so much more than they realise and we, the people who can make a measurable difference, don’t seem to thank them for that. Yeah, let’s be cynical and claim we’re thanking them with our wallets at every match. Or, maybe we could just give a little bit more too. “I love the buzz,” Richard continues, “the camaraderie of sitting next to friends and family.” What about the players? Of course we have the vicarious joy of their success, but what about the sheer elation from the realisation that these professionals represent us on a national and international level?

The atmosphere against Chelsea was electric, by this season’s standards. And then we grumbled through the pre-match warm-ups and first few minutes against Arsenal. Now, I’m not denying that those ninety minutes of football were the worst I remember seeing at Goodison for a long time. I get that. But does that mean we love Everton any less? Hell no. But let’s face it: I can’t be the only one feeling like the home support this season has been any less than pathetic and flat. I’ve felt it, I’ve been guilty of it, I’ve lamented it, I’ve analysed it. And then I just started having an extra beer before kick-off and shouting my lungs out.

Maybe it’s not an extra beer, maybe it’s bringing the nephew along and getting him interested. Or maybe it’s going in through a different turnstile a bit earlier; I don’t care. What I do care about is realising that, as fans, we need to take responsibility…. If we sit there moaning about luck and decisions, allowing the blame to rest on the manager or a handful of players, we’re going to reap what we sow. It hurts when we lose. It hurts because we’re in love, and it’s unconditional. I’ve missed a handful of home games in the last ten years, and every time I’ve felt guilty about my missing voice, like I’m missing my kid’s school play. Yeah, I’m doing the sickly-sweet sentimental message: the club is our baby; Everton Football Club is the child of 40,000 sweaty, swearing, congregants of all kinds, and right now it needs our love.

Now let’s have an “I am Spartacus” moment. We owe the club more than we’ve been giving, and it’s time to repay the debt. Why? Because it’s the right thing to do; it’s the Everton way.

But what do I know.
 
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Well written piece, I enjoyed reading it and found myself nodding in agreement as I scrolled down. A fans love for the club can only take so many kickings though as regards attending matches. I gave up my season ticket last season and haven't been this season, I miss the match day banter, ale etc more than the actual game, which has become a dreary experience in the main at home.
 

As the guy above said its a well written article and I have to say in the past I've utterly despised the term 'The Everton Way'.

It's usually associated with negatives. Oh we have conceded in the 102nd minute. Oh we have 3 boss left backs but they're all injured. And so on. The Everton Way. Or even worse 'Everton That'. *shivers.

But you've made it into a positive. So fair play. I quite enjoyed it.

I'm sure all fans feel they are 'different' and 'special' though.
 
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