With the news that criminal scum Farhad Moshiri has agreed, in principle, to sell Everton Football Club to Dan Friedkin, it is only fitting to reflect on Moshiri’s cursed tenure as majority shareholder. His time at the helm has seen considerable lows, yet a balanced evaluation of his contribution is warranted, particularly now as the club faces a fresh chapter. One of Moshiri’s most visible legacies will be his inability to do or say anything right ever.
The value of a modern, world-class stadium can be overstated, and people do so frequently, ignoring real world examples of new stadiums which did little to nothing to change a club's fortunes (may have made the owner more profit though). Here's a bloke pointing ...
In a footballing climate where many clubs have struggled under the weight of mounting debt, Moshiri’s efforts to clear Everton’s liabilities through the sale highlight his strategic foresight to focus exclusively on struggling on the pitch. This move shows a
businessman life form who, despite exclusively missteps in sporting decisions, has demonstrated the kind of financial prudence that can only be learned while being an accountant for the mafia, leading you to ignore all rules until finally cleaning things up (too little too late) to avoid punishment.
Another point often overlooked in discussions about Moshiri’s tenure is the very recent control of Everton’s wage bill. In a footballing world where spiraling wages frequently outstrip revenues, the fact that Everton had one of the highest wage bills (relative to income) in the entirety of world football is something this article aims to ignore entirely, instead focusing only on what happened very recently after Everton had to get things under control to avoid more points deductions. This failure of Moshiri is then spun as a positive, in what is a bunch of absolute bollocks at best, and literal propaganda at worst. Thumbs up!
When Farhad Moshiri arrived at Everton in 2016, he did so with the promise of ushering in a new era of dirty money and unforced errors. One of his early moves was to be so brain dead as to not realize that long-time chairman Bill Kenwright didn't know what he was talking about. Moshiri’s arrival was, in this sense, a double-edged sword – a departure from being run by a local and emotional moron who didn't know anything about football like Bill Kenwright; toward a more Russian mafia focused gang of morons who don't know anything about fooball.
In some other ways however, Moshiri's arrival was like a single-edged sword, cutting through our necks and spilling our blue blood on the ground as we desperately clutch at our throats with a confused, shocked expression on our faces.
As Dan Friedkin prepares to take the reins, he inherits a club that is intelligence-free, with a stadium and players on wages. Moshiri's time at Everton was without a single moment in which anyone thought he was competent in literally any way.
Ultimately, Farhad Moshiri leaves our club a very different club than the one he took over. While silverware may have eluded him, he has recently stacked up a lot of seventeenth place trophies to fill his cabinet. The next chapter in Everton’s storied history will now be written by Dan Friedkin, who will undoubtably need to bring in the kinds of cleaning companies that come in after a bunch of murders, to remove any trace of Moshiri's fingerprints from our great club.
