And that’s a wrap. As someone would say if we were somewhere generically sterile in the USA, looking all serious but too willing to flash his professional white teeth. Good job everyone.
But this isn’t Delaware and instead is in west London, at Chelsea’s ground. And our season won’t end with the smug feeling of self-congratulation as, well, that’s not the Everton way is it? Either behaviour wise or circumstantially. We’re proficient at never doing things the easy way but that’s probably a large part of what allures them to you. You bad sadist you.
The West Ham game was the type of wonderful two nil that Saturday afternoons should be about. We were in control of the game from the first whistle and never once did many of us get the anxiety that we’d throw it away. Well in. There’s been too many 2-1s and 1-0s this season where you’ve been expecting their sh*t centre half to pain us with an undeserved late equaliser from a set piece. It’s the Everton way.
That dreary stuff shouldn’t overlook a season where we’ve played some quite brilliant footie. Not the boring one touch pass and move stuff that blinds some teams but really good passing on the floor and powerful togger. The type of stuff where were going through the defence if they like it or not. If the status quo was to remain and we had money to spend for next season then there would be many who’d strongly fancy Everton to break the top four. With good reason, we can do any other team on our day and have only been beaten eight times in the previous fifty five league games.
That’s a bit different now with the Moyes leaving thing and the understandable anxiety about our immediate future. You’ll be condescended by those in the media writing stuff like “change happens in football” and assorted other guff but I’m not too arsed about the wider game of football, I have the hots for Everton and Everton alone.
Another week where were still uncertain of who’ll be in charge of us has passed. It’s been interesting to see some lids online become firmly attached with their proposed new manager and argue to death about how they’re the best person for the job. None of us know. I’m no different, I was drinking from the fountain of Martinez last Saturday yet as I type this I really don’t know who I’d like.
There’s been a procession of names though, lots of different suitors, some seemingly sound, some exotic and some downright [Poor language removed] right off. It’s like were in The State nightclub in 1995. We are a reasonably attractive and quite fit bird in a tight fitting Kumar dress on the dance floor by herself around one in the morning. Everyone knows we are up for grabs and there’s suitors stalking us around the perimeter of the dance floor. Every time we turn around we’ve got a different middle parted lad gyrating behind us trying to clamp on our arse but we’re not really into them for some reason or another. One has got acne up the left side of his face. Or herpes simplex perhaps? The next one reeks of jarg Joop from Turkey. The one after that seems sound but is wearing the woolliest pair of Joe Bloggs jeans with faded Flintstone patches ironed on. Time is ticking as Don’t Give Me Your Life by Alex Party is blaring all over the show. We could be going home alone here and that perfect suitor is proving harder to find in direct contrast to the optimism you had at eight of clock knocking back bottles of Hooch.
Anyway, we’ve got a summer to enthuse over this but it’s the biggest decision the club is likely to have for quite some time and illustrates the good fit in Moyes we had. Just don’t let it be a tit; I couldn’t stand having someone manage us who makes me cringe like the rent-a-bells currently managing lots of other clubs with their open necked shirts and four different categories for a central midfielder/Brendan Rodgers.
This week’s game is the very essence of the term dead rubber. Chelsea are playing for third or fourth but Champions League qualification regardless and we’ve won the sixth placed cup in some style. Elsewhere in the league the title is sewn up, relegation spots are decided and the only thing not settled is Arsenal or Spurs for the last Champions League place, and who gives a [Poor language removed] about that outside of North London and Sky?
Chelsea’s last game was winning the UEFA Cup almost nonchalantly. Not many f*cks were given as they done enough to overcome a Benfica side with a late header. Christ how has it come to this? If that was us you’d be just about now waking up in your own piss. Small time!!!11!!!!1! [Poor language removed] right off.
They’re managed by Benitez who’s a prized kopite tw*t and needs to be nowhere near our club. He’s used to that feeling though after enduring half a season of the Chelsea hate mob.
Chelsea do have a collection of bellend players but do have some redeeming features, notably being that they are the closest thing to kopite kryptonite. For some reason they can’t handle them and break down in a jibbering mess citing plastic flags or something for why they’re the antichrist. I’ve got another theory, it’s because they’re better than Liverpool and bought Fernando Torres off them.
You know pretty much all of their players so there’s no need to run through them, although they will be missing a few – the boss Eden Hazard, Bertrand and the man more attached to his replica kit than me at Christmas 1984 in John Terry.
Demba Ba is not cup tied, has a crocked knee but scores loads of goals and at some point you’re going to wince as the ball is played to Lampard at the edge of the box but you know the score with Chelsea as we’ve played them enough. They are the only team to beat us at home in the league this season too.
It’s a nap by the way that in Moyes’ last game he’ll break the arl top four voodoo that doesn’t really make much sense. Wouldn’t be as good as Cahill’s overhead though.
We could start two up front here, or even Barkley behind the main striker as Osman is out injured so Fellaini should play in the middle with Gibson. A good central two that even if we might not see it for much longer.
Mirallas showed against West Ham why we’ll be relying on him quite a bit next season and we’ll hopefully see a better season from Pienaar who’ll start on the left.
After a difficult first half of the season we finally found some clean sheets in the Jagielka and Distin partnership and they’ll be preferred for this game. As will the best set of full backs we’ve had since the eighties in Baines and Coleman. For all the doom, gloom and uncertainty there’s a very decent and promising Everton team sat here for the right person. That right person might have convince a few to stay like. Howard in goal completes our probable team.
It’s a last David Moyes game but most people are over that now, he’s going and what happens next is the thing were arsed about. We’ll find out in due time.
Those early season aspirations weren’t met and were still one more year without a trophy but there’s something good in there which will be the foundation of my next season’s summer daydreaming.
Or maybe it will be better to dream instead of nothing more than long hot summer days, light nights, boss BBQs and pretty office girls in town with too short dresses. All bound together with the fine ales of the city.
Whatever your summer aspirations are I hope they come true. And if all goes to plan we’ll be back in August for another chapter in the sometimes boss book that’s Everton. What’s our name?
But this isn’t Delaware and instead is in west London, at Chelsea’s ground. And our season won’t end with the smug feeling of self-congratulation as, well, that’s not the Everton way is it? Either behaviour wise or circumstantially. We’re proficient at never doing things the easy way but that’s probably a large part of what allures them to you. You bad sadist you.
The West Ham game was the type of wonderful two nil that Saturday afternoons should be about. We were in control of the game from the first whistle and never once did many of us get the anxiety that we’d throw it away. Well in. There’s been too many 2-1s and 1-0s this season where you’ve been expecting their sh*t centre half to pain us with an undeserved late equaliser from a set piece. It’s the Everton way.
That dreary stuff shouldn’t overlook a season where we’ve played some quite brilliant footie. Not the boring one touch pass and move stuff that blinds some teams but really good passing on the floor and powerful togger. The type of stuff where were going through the defence if they like it or not. If the status quo was to remain and we had money to spend for next season then there would be many who’d strongly fancy Everton to break the top four. With good reason, we can do any other team on our day and have only been beaten eight times in the previous fifty five league games.
That’s a bit different now with the Moyes leaving thing and the understandable anxiety about our immediate future. You’ll be condescended by those in the media writing stuff like “change happens in football” and assorted other guff but I’m not too arsed about the wider game of football, I have the hots for Everton and Everton alone.
Another week where were still uncertain of who’ll be in charge of us has passed. It’s been interesting to see some lids online become firmly attached with their proposed new manager and argue to death about how they’re the best person for the job. None of us know. I’m no different, I was drinking from the fountain of Martinez last Saturday yet as I type this I really don’t know who I’d like.
There’s been a procession of names though, lots of different suitors, some seemingly sound, some exotic and some downright [Poor language removed] right off. It’s like were in The State nightclub in 1995. We are a reasonably attractive and quite fit bird in a tight fitting Kumar dress on the dance floor by herself around one in the morning. Everyone knows we are up for grabs and there’s suitors stalking us around the perimeter of the dance floor. Every time we turn around we’ve got a different middle parted lad gyrating behind us trying to clamp on our arse but we’re not really into them for some reason or another. One has got acne up the left side of his face. Or herpes simplex perhaps? The next one reeks of jarg Joop from Turkey. The one after that seems sound but is wearing the woolliest pair of Joe Bloggs jeans with faded Flintstone patches ironed on. Time is ticking as Don’t Give Me Your Life by Alex Party is blaring all over the show. We could be going home alone here and that perfect suitor is proving harder to find in direct contrast to the optimism you had at eight of clock knocking back bottles of Hooch.
Anyway, we’ve got a summer to enthuse over this but it’s the biggest decision the club is likely to have for quite some time and illustrates the good fit in Moyes we had. Just don’t let it be a tit; I couldn’t stand having someone manage us who makes me cringe like the rent-a-bells currently managing lots of other clubs with their open necked shirts and four different categories for a central midfielder/Brendan Rodgers.
This week’s game is the very essence of the term dead rubber. Chelsea are playing for third or fourth but Champions League qualification regardless and we’ve won the sixth placed cup in some style. Elsewhere in the league the title is sewn up, relegation spots are decided and the only thing not settled is Arsenal or Spurs for the last Champions League place, and who gives a [Poor language removed] about that outside of North London and Sky?
Chelsea’s last game was winning the UEFA Cup almost nonchalantly. Not many f*cks were given as they done enough to overcome a Benfica side with a late header. Christ how has it come to this? If that was us you’d be just about now waking up in your own piss. Small time!!!11!!!!1! [Poor language removed] right off.
They’re managed by Benitez who’s a prized kopite tw*t and needs to be nowhere near our club. He’s used to that feeling though after enduring half a season of the Chelsea hate mob.
Chelsea do have a collection of bellend players but do have some redeeming features, notably being that they are the closest thing to kopite kryptonite. For some reason they can’t handle them and break down in a jibbering mess citing plastic flags or something for why they’re the antichrist. I’ve got another theory, it’s because they’re better than Liverpool and bought Fernando Torres off them.
You know pretty much all of their players so there’s no need to run through them, although they will be missing a few – the boss Eden Hazard, Bertrand and the man more attached to his replica kit than me at Christmas 1984 in John Terry.
Demba Ba is not cup tied, has a crocked knee but scores loads of goals and at some point you’re going to wince as the ball is played to Lampard at the edge of the box but you know the score with Chelsea as we’ve played them enough. They are the only team to beat us at home in the league this season too.
It’s a nap by the way that in Moyes’ last game he’ll break the arl top four voodoo that doesn’t really make much sense. Wouldn’t be as good as Cahill’s overhead though.
We could start two up front here, or even Barkley behind the main striker as Osman is out injured so Fellaini should play in the middle with Gibson. A good central two that even if we might not see it for much longer.
Mirallas showed against West Ham why we’ll be relying on him quite a bit next season and we’ll hopefully see a better season from Pienaar who’ll start on the left.
After a difficult first half of the season we finally found some clean sheets in the Jagielka and Distin partnership and they’ll be preferred for this game. As will the best set of full backs we’ve had since the eighties in Baines and Coleman. For all the doom, gloom and uncertainty there’s a very decent and promising Everton team sat here for the right person. That right person might have convince a few to stay like. Howard in goal completes our probable team.
It’s a last David Moyes game but most people are over that now, he’s going and what happens next is the thing were arsed about. We’ll find out in due time.
Those early season aspirations weren’t met and were still one more year without a trophy but there’s something good in there which will be the foundation of my next season’s summer daydreaming.
Or maybe it will be better to dream instead of nothing more than long hot summer days, light nights, boss BBQs and pretty office girls in town with too short dresses. All bound together with the fine ales of the city.
Whatever your summer aspirations are I hope they come true. And if all goes to plan we’ll be back in August for another chapter in the sometimes boss book that’s Everton. What’s our name?
