Fulham 2 v 0 Everton                                                  Sat. 8th Dec 2001

Att: 19,338

Everton: Simonsen, Pistone, Weir (sent off), Stubbs, Naysmith, Gravesen, Gemmill, Gascoigne, Pembridge, Watson, Radzinski,

Bench: Gerrard, , Unsworth, Tal,

Subs:Alexandersson for Gascoigne (61m), Moore for Gravesen (72m).

So Gazza started in the 1st eleven. The same side, which finished the game so well against Southampton started again. Steve Watson started again up front with The Rad. Mark Pembridge started in midfield, with Alexandersson, & Unsworth having a place on the bench.

Everton were abysmal. The stats say we had 2 shots on target. I think they are being a bit on the generous side. Stubbsey's effort from a free-kick ok, but I can't recall another worth mentioning. There are various reasons for Everton's poor display, firstly Fulham are a good side who pass the ball with ease and ooze confidence. Their midfield completely outclassed Everton's in all departments. They seemed fitter, stronger and something I'm ashamed to say about an Everton side, they seemed to want it more than us. In Evertons defense, all eleven players tried hard, but they just had no answer.

Secondly, I thought it was only the fans who got carried away by the results, but Walter Smith also falls into that category. He was obviously carried away by the second half display, last week against Southampton, in which Paul Gascoigne had a great second half. But he should have also thought about the way Gazza played for the reserves the week before, when he was just a passenger for the last 30 minutes. Although he still has the touches of class, it is a young mans game now. His age has caught up with him and he has lost his fitness. He still has something to offer, but only in 30minute appearances.

Thirdly he must stop playing Steve Watson up front. He has played four games as centre forward and not looked like scoring in any of the games. Steve will run and give 100% like he does in all games, but you need a little bit more when you are playing Centre Forward for Everton. I would think that Joe Max-Moore, Nick Chadwick or even Danny Cadamarteri would have at least scored one goal in those four games. Simply because they are forwards.

The other selection I had concerns with was Thomas Gravesen on the right on midfield. He has been Everton's best player this season playing in the middle of midfield. If Walter is not going to select him there, he should leave him out of the team completely. As yet again, he looked like a little boy lost on the right wing. A sad man he looked when brought off to be replaced by Joe Max.

The Everton back four struggled manfully trying to stop the classy Fulham forwards, but could not do so. This was shown by them all being booked. On the plus side Thomas Radzinski showed he is a cut above the rest, when he gets good service. Steve Simonsen in goal, produced another steady performance, & made a brilliant save from Malbranque to show that he is still the best goal keeper on the books. Alassandro Pistone had a half decent game, and also showed he was up for a fight, with a good right cross to the head of a Fulham player, when the pushing and shoving started, just before Davy Weir got sent off. This incident had to be witnessed to be believed. Davy Weir got brought down, had his legs grabbed from under him, and then was sent off. I still can't work out why.

If the 2-0 defeat wasn't bad enough. We had these so called Evertonians throwing bottles onto the pitch.

On the sending off Walter says: "I thought the decision to send David Weir off was disgraceful, I can't understand how the ref would give a foul to a player - as he did - and then send him off. If you can tell me what it was for, I'd be delighted to enlighten the referee. It's a mystifying decision, among other mystifying decisions in the game. He's the only player that has ever been sent off for clearing the ball, being pulled down and stamped on by the opposition. He gave him a second yellow card after giving him a foul - and it's the first time in my career that that's happened. There was nothing in it and if we can appeal, we will. Boa Morte's wasn't a sending-off either - and Louis Saha stood on top of him (Weir) and walked away."

Sausage says: "Have we had a shot yet?"

Jogger says: "I didn't think Pisto had it in him to smack someone"

Walter says: "I was disappointed with the way we played and we suffered the consequences for that."

The shame of some of our fans
by
Mickey Blue Eyes.

The shame? Oh, we'll get to that soon enough.

In the run up to the match the Annual General Meeting came and went, as intentionally boring and uninformative (sic) as any other at any other footy club……… except for Ian Mac's justified attack on the local Echo and Post rags and the club's wretched approach to communications with the fans. Needless to say, not a word of his got into reports printed by either, even though his observations were greeted by the loudest applause of the evening. So much for a democratic, open press.

The Echo leech who wrote it up was David Prentice, the one who recently sailed close to being slapped with an injunction. Frankly, I would have shoved it straight up his arse after coating it with broken glass. Then I would do the same to everybody else at the Echo and the Post who manufactured the same kind of grubby propaganda. The Sun lives, and it is called the Echo or the Daily Post.

What some of the local lowlife journos DID do was put the boot in on the club again. Anything which diverts attention away from themselves and their cheap shots. They are nothing but tasteless media thugs living vicariously off other people's lives. The most work any of them have ever done is to avoid tripping over the threshold of the nearest wine bar or pub. Small wonder a recent survey put them at the bottom of the list of public esteem. Even estate agents were rated higher and you can't get any lower than that, if you see what I mean.

Two of the journo slimeballs came out from under their North John (how appropriate) Street stone shrieking their fourth form heads off. This time it was along the lines of, "…….the money for the stadium should be used for the team and where's Gregg's money for team building………" or other addled words to that affect. While they were at it they attacked Evertonians for being compliant, which idea would draw gales of laughter from anybody who knows anything at all about Evertonians. Likely if there had been a storm of disagreement at the AGM the same nincompoops would have adopted the opposite tack. The thick, unemployable bastards must have spent more than the usual two/three hour lunch time in Ma Boyle's. But they aren't interested in truth, only in selling newspapers.

Which means maybe it is time for an organised boycott of the Echo and Post similar to the one which destroyed the Sun's circulation on Merseyside. I know I wouldn't need much persuading to join in the organisation effort since I don't buy any of them. Ian Mac once wanted to do this and only called it off after terrified requests from guess who. All we need is for 20,000 or more of our fans to stop buying their manufactured muck and it would be enough to bring them to their knees. If that does come about it will be as well to remember it was they who started it. Believe me, the Echo and Post are terrified of what such a move could do to their finances, particularly the Post. You only have to look at their circulation figures. Much more of their cheap propaganda and I would be all in favour of delivering the coup de grace. It wouldn't be too difficult. All it requires is the sort of organised and determined support given to the Kings Dock bid. And once readers have found an alternative they usually can't be arsed going back. Revenge is a dish best served cold.

But while we're still on about the AGM it might be as well to place blame correctly. Someone asked an awkward question about Kings Dock finance. It was enough to send Bill Kenwright's voice up two octaves and bring Paul Gregg out of self-imposed somnambulence to try to evade the core of the question. It was this the local print media picked up on. You might as well know who asked the question: It was me. Blame me, as if I give a shit. I am not a shareholder, though I might soon be the proud owner of a single share, courtesy of a thrusting and honest (for the time being!) young Suit dahn in The Smoke. Not unexpectedly, aforesaid answers were virtually the same as those provided to me weeks ago by Joe Dwyer of Liverpool Vision and posted here on Blue Kipper. This shows the club is in lock-step with the site owners and project co-ordinators.

Thus, the project remains wrapped in the kind of masonic secrecy the Everton for Kings Dock Group sought to dispel even before Everton were selected as the preferred bidders. The secrecy was instigated (and is still controlled by) the site owners, English Partnerships, and the project co-ordinators, Liverpool Vision. Everton Football Club are bound by their requirements until the project is finally secured beyond doubt. Again, if you are going to blame someone you might as well get it right. All major property developments are a nest of vipers and this one is no exception.

Talking of vipers, it doesn't stop the Melledrew Tendency ranting on about the club not being careful with finances………and then when the club ARE careful with the finances (reduction of overdraft, loss down by two thirds, debt now de facto held below £20 million) start whining about a lack of spending on players, too high wages bills or some other coil of sour cack. All of which might encourage the more cynical amongst us to wonder if some of them are after a slice of the cake now there is a distinct prospect of success of near-acquisition of the Kings Dock project. Especially too since some of them seem to think now is the time to increase the cost of season/match tickets, an idea on a par with turkeys voting for Christmas. You have to shake your head at some of the concentrated diahorrea these idiots churn out. Sometimes you can't avoid the thought that some of them are nothing more than pathetic paid shit-stirrers for an outside, unnamed interest………

The very same arse holes were bound to loosen their bowels as KD project administration made its slow, tediously annoying way toward success, especially now we have yet a further postponment until May. Previously, Joe Dwyer told me the planning application would be submitted in March. Prior to that, the general implication was that everything would be sorted by December. So the bureaucrat Suits (private and public) have once again caused delay. The EfKD Group long ago warned it would be a rocky ride and so it transpires. So what's noo?

And of course if our playing fortunes continue to wax and wane, mostly wane, at the same rate as recent years you'll get the usual whine of, "We'll be playing in it in the Nationwide." So will Manchester United at the current rate. But the analogy will almost certainly escape the Tendency. There really is no point trying to hold a conversation with a stone, or tell it that a club in our position has an almost-impossible balancing act to achieve on and off the field. You try to do what you can at all points of the battlefield, but you can't outflank the enemy until you have enough mobile forces in place. Then you can turn the tide. The minor miracle is that we are still able to join the fight.

Also, the same ineffables are probably incapable of understanding that the original concept was designed by HOK, USA, that the local consultant architects are Ellis Williams Partnership of Runcorn, and that Bovis have just been announced as the construction/developer partners. These are all separate functions………but fer chrissakes don't confuse the Tendency too much. Their sole functioning brain cell can't cope with more than one bit of incoming information. The fact that some of these firms can change position at any time, not at all unusual in a large development project, will doubtless have the Tendency consulting their own anuses at regular intervals. So don't tell them either that the local planners and English Heritage wanted the stadium relocated to the southern end of the site and turned through ninety degrees to minimise the blocking of sight lines from residential developments at KD. Site geometry is out of their league, let alone an ability to visualise in three dimensions. To hell with them. And that is exactly where they will be when we finally secure the project. Which is delightful news for all true Evertonians.

Fact is, the club fell so far from grace during the ownership of Peter Johnson that we are in trouble at virtually every level you can think of. It requires, and is gradually receiving, albeit as imperfectly as any other human endeavour, the kind of attention Johnson didn't provide and wouldn't let anybody else provide. There is no magic wand. Nobody at the club has ever claimed there is. The miracle is that we are still up there in the top division, for which we may thank fate and everybody's efforts at the club, especially Smiffy for staying and juggling with the relatively meagre playing resources we have. If only the club could boost their direct communications with the fans they wouldn't be subject to half so much uninformed, sour nonsense from the Echo, the Post, and the Melledrew Tendency.

At the AGM Smiffy fielded questions on playing matters. Basically what he said was, "Look, I'm the manager and that's the way I do things." Quite right too, whether we disagree with his delivery or not, and most of us do. No point doing a manager's job in anything unless you have your own ideas. Anyone who has led or managed any group of human beings will understand that readily. But that doesn't preclude puzzlement. After all, gripes go up, not down. 'Twas ever thus.

Meanwhile, out in the all-too-real-world, the USA threatened to bomb Iraq after flattening anything worthwhile in Afghanistan, which wasn't much. Or should I say, intensify the bombing of Iraq. It never really stopped. Visit the site hereunder to acquaint yourself with facts and some useful links to individuals with conscience and the articulation and intelligence to go with it:

www.firethistime.org

After reading that, I suggest footy will attain its right level, as will the Melledrew Tendency and their allies at the Echo and Post. Which is at instep level.

In the meantime, smooth-faced Suits at Enron, one of America's largest corporations, "excellent" like Joseph Goebbels in PR deception and lies, were finally found out and the firm went into bankruptcy owing billions of dollars. Only a few short months ago "Fortune" magazine were lauding this as a perfect example of capitalism in action. Oh how too, too true. All those employees who had to buy shares are now free to contemplate the logical conclusion. Not that it will bother the banks who went along with the whole lie and leant (read: gave) the fraudsters cart loads of citizens' dosh to whisk away to Switzerland, the Caymans, or some other haven of money laundering. You can find some of the story here:

http://www.business2.com/articles/web/0,1653,35995,00.html

If the link is still working.

Commonsensical individuals might be inclined to apply the same logic path to our situation at Everton and see what would happen if we try to borrow our way out of trouble, or, more like INTO trouble.

With the Fulham match looming, I sensed trouble. The reason was/is that we are notoriously bad at dealing with a side who pass the ball around, mainly because we are pretty useless at getting it back. I sensed a defeat by a goal or two and said so to everyone sensible within hearing. It isn't the kind of thing you say, for instance, to a Tendency member without them going off on one of their whining diatribes. But The Bus was as madly optimistic as ever and forecast a draw.

Being footy optimistic at six a.m on a dark winter's morning is not easy, even when the air is absolutely crystal clear and chilly with it. As I went to the car, the first morning flight rumbled up into the air from John Lennon Airport (slogan, wonderfully: Above Us Only Sky, new terminal building growing by the day) and gave a few hundred an exhilarating ride on top of winking navigation lights as it banked sharp north for a magnificent view of the waterfront and then arrowed off toward Europe. I don't get wistful about these things because I have been on more tiresome international flights and in more tediously exotic airports than you've had hot dinners, but you couldn't help briefly comparing a bus trip to Fulham with, say, a flight to the Seychelles. Sternly I reminded myself I had more important things on my mind……… such as arriving at The Bus on time.

Sunrise is one of my favourite hours of the day. Away to the south east the sky was streaked with black clouds with a backdrop of sun-prismed light ranging from scarlet at the horizon to turquoise further up. You couldn't help but feel good especially since you didn't have the task of driving straight into blinding horizontal light sabres. A few exchanges of banter and we were on our way, Mogsy sound asleep on one of those shoulder pillows shaped like a life jacket, the ones which come in very useful on, erm, airplanes. The Bus was mostly subdued by early morning Seasonal Affective Disorder and a capacity for Friday Night "Good" Times which presented an inevitable invoice with a sickly smile.

Winter is finally and inarguably here. Even with the heat on you could feel a slight chill on your shoulder next to The Bus window. Outside, wraiths of low mist surrounded and filled the woods and vales of small-scale English countryside as we scooted down the motorway. It was magical. I love England.

Four hours or so later we entered the poisoned infrastructure veins of the capital, carbon monoxide skin as clearly visible as acne from kilometres away. Just because you love your country doesn't mean you have to love its mistakes, and Lahndan is one giant error of a place waiting to get even worse. Which of course is no good to any of us since it is our main shop window whether we like it or not. However, that will require long-term planning, investment and the kind of social fairness long ago abandoned by the few Suit private and public shitheads who control our nation. In the meantime you better get used to the misery of economic and social misery because it is going to intensify. There will be no improvement until enough people have the courage to say it loud and long. Don't expect any help from the media.

Eventually The Bus wound its way through the impossible traffic and found The Kings Head in Fulham High Street. No, not unelected Charlie Windsor's hugely eared dome, the pub. Our driver tried to get around one of those tiny roundabout turning circles, nothing more than a slight swelling and some paint on the asphalt, and got stuck half way while I fell about laughing at the immediate traffic consternation. Drivers and exhausts fumed even more into the rancid air while Plod arrived in a hurry-up cart, lights and sirens disturbing everyone's hangover.

We disgorged only to find The Kings Head closed. Turned out they'd had a heavy night which didn't finish until, haha, three a.m. They opened up at 12.35 p.m and were immediately awash, me first, with hordes of travel-weary dehydrated passengers. Water is much more healthy of course but try telling that to the clamour at the bar. The bar staff looked like they were in shock. Actually it is a damn good job the place is a dump since it probably would never have survived the incoming mortar fire of Blue Bellies.

We retired to a place by the juke box where I interviewed the immortal Kyle for a later piece for Blue Kipper. I promise you it is some kinda barely credible story. Then the place filled rapidly so we moved to a corner to avoid the crush and swaying oceans of tottering, filled glasses passed over unsteady heads. The noise and singing grew and grew to intolerable levels. So when I eventually got to meet Paul for the first time it was little more than a perfunctory exchange made valiantly but unavailingly against a wall of noise. He too had been up till three a.m at an office do and looked like the last thing he needed was the seedy madness of The Kings Head. The Squire showed, and then cockney toffee. Other parties were sabotaged by the rage of Lahndan traffic and didn't make it. Frankly, I was glad to escape with our lot and walk up to the ground.

Wherein, synchronicity being what it is, came The Editor and Lady Barbara, also en route to a Lahndan weekend. Familiar faces were everywhere, our away support as intense and solid as ever. It is impossible to exaggerate what could happen if and when our club gets back to its former status. Meanwhile, apparently we have to suffer poor playing fortunes and off field nonsenses. Treat it as catharsis my friends, or go mad. It is a hobby, a game. It is not a way of life nor is it more important than life or death. It isn't even worth missing an evening of your children's laughter for, not in the overall sense of things.

So to the teams. Ours was the side which finished last week. And since I don't much keep up to date with footy gossip and rumour I hardly knew any Fulham players except Saha, their Cheesehead keeper, and the unlamented I'm Staying! toe-plagued Collins. But I knew as well as everyone else that Tigana has them knocking the ball around with reasonable efficiency and that immediately meant we would find it hard to cope. It will remain so until we get some players with relatively better ball control and technique. Gawd knows when that will be.

For all that, the first half was even-stevens. Nobody controlled it and neither side looked capable of making a break through. It was mostly fast, inaccurate and scrappy, enlivened only by some moments from Saha, a player I liked and frequently said so during the early exchanges. Which immediately drew the feigned wrath of The Squire with a comment something like, "Does he give you fuckn wet dreams or wha'?" Which immediately dispelled his careful nurture of a so-called "objective" viewpoint. The difference is, I don't pretend to be objective since I believe this is largely a myth while you are watching your own team. Doesn't mean you can't admire a good player though. And Saha can play. So can a few of his team mates, four of whom were black like him………which assumed some importance in view of events and the fact that we didn't have a single black player in the team, see my later comments.

During this half I watched Gazza closely. As if other sensible afficionados needed telling: He just can't do ninety minutes. It is unquestionably beyond him and I hope we have seen the last of the suggestion, since it only harms his own sense of reality and some of the expectations of some of our fans with limited understanding of his capabilities. At best, Gazza is a a good second half sub and little more. Sad, but that's the way it is.

The only useful function of our midfield was, and this is being charitable, to spoil anything Fulham tried to mount. No point blaming any of them because they were all shite and all at the same time. When form goes like this it is only a matter of time before we get turned over. And so it proved. Had any of the midfield played well it might have given us a spark of a chance. Fulham just aren't all they are knocked up to be by some of the dickhead narrow-minded Lahndan media, not at this level, though it is easy to see how they looked good one division lower.

Up front, The Rad hardly got a kick because nobody had the ball long enough and in the right position to pass to him. He ploughed the same lonely furrow as SuperKev did last season, but nobody has got round to calling him "lazy" yet. Needless to say, Stevie is a complete waste of space in the front role and I hope we have seen the last of that nonsense too. If we are going to lose we might as well give some of our kids a chance or push The Little Yank up front, not in midfield where Smiffy invariably sticks him these days. Joe Max is best inside the box, not outside it. There's no guarantee any of this would work but nothing else is working either so what is there to lose? Smiffy's Rubik, I hope.

At the back, Simmo didn't let us down again. When he had something to do, which was rare, he did it well and yet again with increasing confidence. Sandro is our sole class ball player even at right back, when he can raise his game that is. Gary Naysmith looks to me like he's entering a critical period for him and the club. I see some signs I don't much like. I hope he gets his head up or all his early promise might vapourise the way it does for ninety percent of promising young players everywhere. Promise is one thing, delivery another. Self motivation is the key. Blaming others isn't. Liven up, Gary, or you'll end up like all other mere wannabees.

Fulham got one about ten minutes before half time when they had a free kick just right of the D after the zillionth untidy midfield scramble. The ball got passed wide left, crossed quickly and then nodded down sharply inside Simmo's left post, simple as that. Fulham no more deserved to be ahead than we did to be behind. That's the way the game goes.

The second half was different as soon as they got their second a few minutes after the restart. It was all Fulham and no mistake, one Stubbsy shot and one Rad shot apart. The goal came from a left side corner, nodded backwards near the left edge of the goal area and touched in while absolutely everybody stood looking at everyone else in our defence. It was a ludicrously stupid one to let in.

Two goals behind and that was it. They gave up. Fulham simply kept passing their way through to the edge of the box but hardly ever much further, occasional breaks down the wings apart. Eventually Nic and The Little Yank were brought on but they made no difference whatever. Most of the game was played in our half and therefore a third goal looked imminent at any time. But as I said, Fulham just aren't that good and aren't capable of incisive passing in or around the penalty area. They can look pretty outside it all they like, as doubtless they have found to their cost at this level. If Al Fayed can swindle a few more millions and they can buy a decent striker or two it might be a different story altogether.

It hadn't been a particularly dirty game so gawd knows why it suddenly exploded into a handbags-at-close-quarters confrontation. Maybe it was just frustration on a cold afternoon. Anyway, I was following the ball and missed the start of it. By the time I turned back both teams were milling about pushing each other around about four metres outside our penalty area. Davey had just got to his feet and then it was pushy-pushy handbags, steely eyed stares, verbals, trouble makers and peacemakers everywhere. It ended with Davey of all people getting a red card, and then one of theirs getting one too. I must say I envied them the hot bath. I was fucking freezing by this time, largely because we were so awful it was literally indescribable. We had no shape or form whatever.

It was a blessed relief when the final whistle went and we could all go home. Glumly, I contemplated the coming five hours long journey. Glumly, I contemplated what Smiffy could do now. The answer, of course, is not very much until he can put in a different striker for us to clutch at yet more straws. Seems unlikely, given his own acknowledged obduracy and our lack of transfer funds. Winter is here, long and hard.

Next week, Derby. Oh well. Maybe Poom'll be off form. Maybe SuperKev's trapped back nerve will suddenly unlock. Maybe The Yin's ankle will suddenly heal. Maybe Smiffy will be able to perform a miracle with one of our current fit young strikers. Well, it is the time of year for myths and alleged miracles. Keep your fingers crossed. We are going to need it.

THE SHAME.

A few weeks ago I wrote a piece about racist barracking directed at Kevin Campbell from a tiny minority of our fans. Kipper tells me it drew a large response. Some of it even denied the verbals I described were racist. I knew otherwise because I have been following our club and the game for a long, long time. I recognise the signs. Anyone who doesn't is naïve or fooling themselves. I am neither. But I didn't respond to any of the emails because I regard my occasional articles and match reports as my "say" and everyone else can think and say as they wish. That is the beauty of the internet. I won't be responding to any emails on this either.

And the fact is that yesterday was a day of shame for our club and our fans. It was a sickening display of racist muck which wouldn't have been out of place in apartheid South Africa or Dixie or so-called "home counties" England. It disgraced our name. It is time for decisive action by the club and all our decent fans, who are easily the vast majority.

Last week our club broadcast a half time condemnation of racist behaviour at Leicester. They must now step up the campaign by better home and away stewarding and policing, leafleting at games and an organised move to identify and arrest the guilty parties. Enough is enough. Our decent fans have to act too.

Yes, it is true it is started by a tiny minority of hateful loonies. But all too often our other fans stand by. Some of the weakest even join in in the mistaken consideration that it is valid barracking or, so help me, humorous. It is nothing of the sort. It is human poison of the very worst type, rotten to the core in its immediate and long term affects. It stinks and so do the people who manufacture it or go along with it.

Some examples are necessary. I witnessed the start and escalation of it yesterday in the Kings Head pub in Fulham High Street. What started out as normal high spirits and singing gradually mutated into racist songs at least as bad and mindless as anything we ever hear at Rangers-Celtic matches. It didn't stop at mere racism either. Muck directed at Emile Heskey soon translated into shameful garbage about Gérard Houllier's heart attack, one version an incredible sick variation of the hateful Munich song. Then we got the insane songs about dead Italians and "murdering" Liverpool fans. Some madmen even had their children standing on chairs joining in. Eventually it drove me out of the pub.

During the match, a small group of particularly nasty racist shitheads got verbally active in the standing area in front of us. In front of them were two young black stewards, male and female. Understandably, they were frozen. But it wasn't limited to the standing area. Some trash in the seats joined in too. I have never felt so ashamed in my life.

Your first instinct is to stand up and roar at the mad bastards. I have done that before and it usually shuts them up for a time. However, what is happening now requires a much more organised response. It is just beginning to grow insidiously, the way the nazis did and the way the National Front operate. So firstly I went to the nearest stewards and pointed out the group of loonies who were most vociferous. Cut off the snake's head and it dies. The steward promised to do something.

When nothing happened by half time I went to some policemen and reported the same thing after first identifying myself as an Evertonian. A bobby asked me to show him who it was, which I did. Later, the young stewards were replaced by a lad who looked like he could handle himself and the police instigated a patrol too. Eventually the inevitable happened and a video camera got produced and the bizzies filmed the section of the crowd which contained the guilty ones, equally inevitably getting some innocents in-frame. This quieted the worst of it.

But it still went on, directed mostly at any of Fulham's five black players who came near the touchline. Then someone threw a plastic Lucozade bottle at a Fulham player taking a corner, and later a glass whisky bottle.

Altogether it was the most shameful day I have ever had as an Evertonian. I never want it repeated, though I fear it will be and that I will be once again calling the police into action. I have had enough of racism to last me several lifetimes.

There is absolutely no defence for what happened and none should be offered, no matter how well intentioned. We all know what other clubs' fans do and how they act: So what? We clean away our own scum first.

We all also know how the media will use this against our club if they get the chance. For them, an easy target is better than no target at all. We have to be better than the media. And when you think about it, it isn't too difficult to act better than the ranting regional chauvinism of the Sun or the Daily Mail or the Daily Telegraph or Granada TV. No, there will be no help from the media. There never has been. They have been far too busy stoking ethnic fires of their own.

Nor is there anything valid or humorous at jeering at the colour of a man's skin, his mortal medical condition, or the deaths of innocent human beings in long ago football tragedies. None of it has to do with banter or encouragement. All it embodies is a poisoned frustration at life in general and the disappointment of supporting a temporarily unsuccessful footy club. Those who can't handle either ought to seek urgent help or leave the country to those who want to try an imperfect best to improve it.

If you have stuck with this thus far I hope you will join in efforts to get rid of the sort of people and behaviour I have described. If you don't, the game won't be worth having and it won't be worth saving our club from its present predicament.

Nazi Germany remains the hateful template. Is that what we want?

Everton from: Simonsen, Pistone, Watson, Weir, Stubbs, Alexandersson, Gemmill, Gravesen, Naysmith, Unsworth, Radzinski, Xavier, Gascoigne, Gerrard, Pembridge, Moore, Blomqvist, Tal, Chadwick.

Walter looks like keeping Steve Wastson upfront with The Rad, after they were both involved in the goals against Southampton. Unless we sign a big striker, before Saturday. One suprise inclusion is Jesper Blomqvist, who was taken off at half time in Tuesday's reserve game v Bradford We think Jesper could be on the bench. The problem for Walter is who to play in midfield. Gary Naysmith & Nic Alexanderson, are the ones who look in danger to loose their place after the second half performancese of Pembo & Gazza. But Nace could get a recall at Left back in place of Unsey. (06/12/01)