The kind of club where I develop coping mechanisms. Superstitious coping mechanisms.
For instance, earlier in the season I noticed if my missus watched the game with me we would lose or we would concede a goal whilst present. We would win when I got some me time.
Anyway, thst was clearly tosh when we lost to Villa. My missus kindly brought me a new Everton mug as a birthday gift (make your own jokes). My new explanation is that it is a bad luck omen. James went awol, we got proper spanked by City, and Madrid cuckolded us with Carlo.
Essentially it prevents me confronting the complexity of top level football, that our club has serious structural and managerial problems running deep. That our recruitment choices are sub-optimal. That many fans are so desperate for success they practically haemorrhage at a home loss and let that lot across the park get to them (just ignore). Which feeds the general frustration and seeming lack of impetus or capacity to challenge from the club.
I do this because it saves my sanity. Prevents me getting angry on the internet. Keeps my pants dry. Saves too many long boring posts like this very post.
Blame the merchandise. It is safer. In sum, Everton are a sanity testing club. Blame that new away kit you brought. It's defo cursed.