Some proper footy, great. And on a Saturday at three o'clock as well. Happy days.
The season's been disrupted yet again, and for what? For all our Nigerian players to piss Berti Vogts off - not enough that he won't take them away for what seems like most of the new year, like - and for England to find yet another more ludicrous and tortuous way to [Poor language removed] up and bring about a period of national mourning.
Steve McLaren is the public figure of fun, but he is just a man promoted way beyond his abilities. That anyone so mediocre in any walk of life should now be sitting on a multi-million pound nest egg without ever picking six numbers at Saturday tea time is something akin to a miracle. However, he was a patsy from the start and difficult to hate really.
The real despicable c-nt in all this has to be Brian Barwick. How that Inspector Lastrade looking phoney could sit there in that press conference and give it the big "I take full responsibility" bit, while clearly doing nothing of the sort, was sickening. And it's not because he's a Kopite - well, it might be a bit - but he simply represents the worst sort of puffed up bureaucrat with a love of the smell of the greasepaint who infest football, with their Saville Row overcoats and environment-raping motors.
Anyone can sack a [Poor language removed] manager, you oily fat [Poor language removed], but it takes a modicum of ability to identify and recruit a decent one in the first place, something you patently failed to do. The Scolari nonsense and the farce of non-qualification for the European Championships are not two unrelated things, nugget. What's worse is that these imbeciles didn't just appoint the last kid picked as manager - the fat one with the turn in his eye and a cow's lick - they gave him four million quid for the privilege.
And who do you think eventually foots the bill? In any other business they would have all been chased out of town by now.
Anyway, Everton. They're ace and they better tw@t Sunderland if they know what's good for them. Roy Keane's side are the sort of determined no-hopers who give the Blues problems at times though, when David Moyes' men get a bit cocky, think they can coast through and you get that almost imperceptible sea change, usually at about 57 minutes in, with us a goal up and the floodlights just starting to kick in.
Someone like Mikel Arteta will waste a good opportunity by trying something arrogant when there's an easy pass on and the opposition will break. Everton have been on top for almost the whole match so a couple of players will make slightly less effort to track back, probably in anticipation of our next attack. The away team end up having a dig that goes narrowly wide. Sections of the Park end stand up and start screaming at them to wake the [Poor language removed] up. Boro/Birmingham/Fulham/whoever are encouraged by this and within ten minutes Everton are getting ragged everywhere.
Then they equalise from a half-cleared corner.
In a nod to some sort of proper preview, Dean Whitehead is fit for them. Oh, and how funny are the 'shout outs' to the vaguely Terry Daracott-looking Mr Testicles going to be? Look, you're laughing already. You're going to suggest we make him coach aren't you? And then look aroud to see if anyone is laughing along. People like you are almost as bad as Barwick. In fact, worse.
