Louietheblue
Player Valuation: £750k
This tale begins with the introduction of our main protagonist, one Victor Chinedu Anichebe. A loyal and loving blue who's destiny, as we all know was to don the beloved jersey of Everton. Young victor new what the saying; 'Born not manufactured' meant, he got it. And so he set off on his journey from the sunny land of Lagos to find himself on the banks of the Royal Blue Mersey.
He broke into the collective consciousness of Evertonians the world over as a fresh-faced, baby-battering-ram. He terrorized defences across Europe and his Blue Brethren believed he might just mend our collective hearts after being so utterly dismayed at the loss of another, almost fairy-tale persona; Wayne 'Shrek' Rooney.
To top it all off, we all thought he was quite fit.
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Okay, just me then.
As mentioned, this black Adonis made his mark early
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With a physique that would have made Muhammad Ali jealous, he marched around Bellefield necking everybody's protein and bench pressing the larger chaps in the Everton fold. It could be said that they kept a little eye on him and some were even saddened when he bench pressed them during brekkie before training.
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Our little bruiser got some big ideas, he puffed his substantial chest out and declared to the world
(In a somewhat slightly effete, Crosby-ite tone)
"Don't mess with me mate, I'm well hench you know?"
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Word got around and the dark enemies conspired to put a dint in Victors Armour. One fateful afternoon an errant honey badger took it upon himself to put an end to Victors dreams.
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His world was rocked by the blow. For many a dark moon young Victor wandered in the wilderness, trying to regain his confidence, it was to no avail. He was a shattered man, fearful.
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He had developed a dark neuroses that engulfed and consumed his once brazen fighting spirit. This was not the Victor we had grown to love, who inspired the masses. He winced in pain at the slightest knock, many even claimed he had 'gone soft.'
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A dark cloud hung over him, and a churlish manner overcame him. He took to bemoaning his lot at any given opportunity, in fact it seemed as though his once formidable-rear-end had grown an insurmountable affinity with the floor.
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And then one miraculous day, the cloud seemed to lift. Some mentioned that his beloved team mates had given him the care and support that he needed.
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Others who were, how shall we put it, less well informed? dared to suggest that a Ginger-Wizard had placed a spell upon him.
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Many scoffed and yet before the Brethren's eyes, there had been a transformation. Victor, the boy who's very name was derived from victory, looked to be back to his bullish best.
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Little by little he began to use what the Gods themselves had gifted to him as he started to dominate the opposition. And he finished the season on a high, silencing the doubters...
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And smiling once more.
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It all looked to be going so well. His name was sang by the masses and he even looked to terrorize the heathens from abroad when Everton entered the ICC and acquitted themselves with honour. And yet there was a dark cloud on the horizon.
Just before the end of the transfer portal, whilst happily thinking about what lay ahead, he was summoned by Robertomus. The news wasn't good.
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"Victor" Robertomus said, "I think it might be time for us to go our separate ways." To say that young Victor was dismayed would be an understatement.
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"Victor, I hope you understand, it is a rare thing to find a human being with your physical attributes but that is what we've done. And he scores lots of goals" Said Robertomus with the tone of a loving father. "He is going to lead us into a new era" he said without a hint of sorrow.
"Who is he? Who's this man who you speak of that's more hench than me?!"
And his phone beeped. Upon the screen danced the image of the finest specimen of a human being that he had ever seen, and he'd even seen Sir Duncan of Ferguson...
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"****" he mewed, as a piercing stab burst through his heart, and a feeling of fear at the sight of the beast played upon his mind.
[/URL][/IMG]
He thanked Robertomus for all that he hadn't done for him whilst his team mate's provided a guard of honour to wish him luck upon his travels.
[/URL][/IMG]
Well all except one who jizzed with excitement and ran to greet his new team mate.
[/URL][/IMG]
In the end young Victors story was bitter-sweet, yet he goes on to fight another battle and maybe this one, will allow the world to see what his Blue Brethren saw in the very beginning.
[/URL][/IMG]
He broke into the collective consciousness of Evertonians the world over as a fresh-faced, baby-battering-ram. He terrorized defences across Europe and his Blue Brethren believed he might just mend our collective hearts after being so utterly dismayed at the loss of another, almost fairy-tale persona; Wayne 'Shrek' Rooney.
To top it all off, we all thought he was quite fit.
Okay, just me then.
As mentioned, this black Adonis made his mark early
With a physique that would have made Muhammad Ali jealous, he marched around Bellefield necking everybody's protein and bench pressing the larger chaps in the Everton fold. It could be said that they kept a little eye on him and some were even saddened when he bench pressed them during brekkie before training.
Our little bruiser got some big ideas, he puffed his substantial chest out and declared to the world
(In a somewhat slightly effete, Crosby-ite tone)
"Don't mess with me mate, I'm well hench you know?"
Word got around and the dark enemies conspired to put a dint in Victors Armour. One fateful afternoon an errant honey badger took it upon himself to put an end to Victors dreams.
His world was rocked by the blow. For many a dark moon young Victor wandered in the wilderness, trying to regain his confidence, it was to no avail. He was a shattered man, fearful.
He had developed a dark neuroses that engulfed and consumed his once brazen fighting spirit. This was not the Victor we had grown to love, who inspired the masses. He winced in pain at the slightest knock, many even claimed he had 'gone soft.'
A dark cloud hung over him, and a churlish manner overcame him. He took to bemoaning his lot at any given opportunity, in fact it seemed as though his once formidable-rear-end had grown an insurmountable affinity with the floor.
And then one miraculous day, the cloud seemed to lift. Some mentioned that his beloved team mates had given him the care and support that he needed.
Others who were, how shall we put it, less well informed? dared to suggest that a Ginger-Wizard had placed a spell upon him.
Many scoffed and yet before the Brethren's eyes, there had been a transformation. Victor, the boy who's very name was derived from victory, looked to be back to his bullish best.
Little by little he began to use what the Gods themselves had gifted to him as he started to dominate the opposition. And he finished the season on a high, silencing the doubters...
And smiling once more.
It all looked to be going so well. His name was sang by the masses and he even looked to terrorize the heathens from abroad when Everton entered the ICC and acquitted themselves with honour. And yet there was a dark cloud on the horizon.
Just before the end of the transfer portal, whilst happily thinking about what lay ahead, he was summoned by Robertomus. The news wasn't good.
"Victor" Robertomus said, "I think it might be time for us to go our separate ways." To say that young Victor was dismayed would be an understatement.
"Victor, I hope you understand, it is a rare thing to find a human being with your physical attributes but that is what we've done. And he scores lots of goals" Said Robertomus with the tone of a loving father. "He is going to lead us into a new era" he said without a hint of sorrow.
"Who is he? Who's this man who you speak of that's more hench than me?!"
And his phone beeped. Upon the screen danced the image of the finest specimen of a human being that he had ever seen, and he'd even seen Sir Duncan of Ferguson...
"****" he mewed, as a piercing stab burst through his heart, and a feeling of fear at the sight of the beast played upon his mind.
He thanked Robertomus for all that he hadn't done for him whilst his team mate's provided a guard of honour to wish him luck upon his travels.
Well all except one who jizzed with excitement and ran to greet his new team mate.
In the end young Victors story was bitter-sweet, yet he goes on to fight another battle and maybe this one, will allow the world to see what his Blue Brethren saw in the very beginning.
