Good morning. Well where do I start? How about at the beginning. Picked Mr F up as arranged and went for our tea. We had been recommended a new place to try so we went. There was us in there and a Mum and a child. We approached the bar "Two carverys?" said the woman and before I had the chance to process the question she had rang them up and ushered us to a seat. Now, I like a roast dinner - home cooked, can't beat it. A carvery is probably my last option when I'm out for a meal. It was alright. Then Mr F scored the first of many own goals that night. He did not want a dessert!! What the actual.... Having consumed a mere 123 calories all day prior to going out I was not happy. I didn't want to eat on my own and look like a greedy pig I said "oh OK" and we left. Got to the Metro station. (about 20 minutes drive) Got on train going to St James's Park. Two stops in Mr F says "I need to get off, I'm bursting for a wee" The one pint of lager had worked its magic and he couldn't wait. We got off at Gateshead, couldn't find a loo, he found a dark corner of a car park. Got back on train. The wrong train. It did say "St James via the coast" Via the coast we discovered meant a 52 minute round trip to Whitley Bay and back to Newcastle. We got off at Jesmond and got another Metro back into Newcastle and walked to the ground.
Mr F then managed to get stuck in the turnstile. Don't ask I have no idea, I had already successfully negotiated the turnstile and only discovered this fact when the disabled gates opened and he came through. Honestly, it's like being out with a 4 year old! We took our seats, the wrong seats. We were a tier lower than we should have been, amongst all the flag waving hard core Geordies. Two bemused season ticket holders very politely booted us out of their seats about 5 minutes before kick off. Found our right seats which was immediately below where the Everton fans were. Oh My Goodness. So much hostility. Sitting in front of us was a Dad and his approximately 10 year old daughter. She had the face of an angel. She spent almost the entire match facing away from the pitch, giving V signs to the Everton fans and simultaneously shouting "w*nk*rs" at them. Dad seemed very proud and bought her curry and chips at half time. In my calorie deficient, no pudding, state I wondered if I tossed a few expletives out would he do the same for me.
And then there was the match. Same old same old I'm afraid although to be fair the two first half injuries absolutely scuppered us. Once Mina went off St Maximin ran riot, we had no answer to him. Through gritted teeth I have to say he is a class apart - far too good for them. Any tactical plans Frank had were probably ruined as well and, on a personal note, no chance to see Dom in action. We cannot defend set pieces at all, that needs huge improvement. Shelvey should have gone off ( not that the home fans agreed) Losing Gray took away a lot of our pace and Gomes wasn't at his best. Pickford survived a torrent of abuse for 90 minutes. Any positives? Gordon had a good game again, Richarlison never stops, he runs his socks off for 90 minutes. DVB and Dele Alli showed flashes of what they can do but it was very obvious that they have not played very much recently. Frank looked furious at the end, scowling in the corner of his technical area.
The bloke sitting on the other side of me attempted to hug me when the third goal went in. I resisted the urge to punch him. And then it was the end. I was so disappointed and have vowed that I am no longer spending money on Everton. Well, until the next time. lol We made our way out of the ground, back to the Metro and home without any dramas.....or McDonalds!