Everton 1 v 2 Ipswich                                                          3rd Feb 2002

                                             Att:  33,069   

Everton : Simonsen, Clarke, Stubbs, Weir, Unsworth, Blomqvist, Gemmill, Gascoigne, Naysmith, Campbell, Ferguson.

Bench: Gerrard, Cleland, Moore, Tal, Linderoth.

Subs: Linderoth for Clarke (46m) Moore for Unsworth (85m).

I hate doing this when we get beat. I should have stayed in the Royal Oak quaffing Heineken Export from plassy glasses.

It promised so much before the kick-off. We had a decent looking side out and we had our new signing Toby on the bench.

It even started well. After only two minutes Dunc won a header and knocked into the path Gary Nay who blasted over from the pen spot with his right foot. Nays has done well recently, but he has got to improve his right peg shooting.

It went down hill from then on. We were outplayed for the rest of the game by a very mediocre side.

Ipswich went ahead on 10 minutes when some Argey bloke scored. We were all over the show. There were frantic scenes from the dug out. It seemed that nobody knew where they were playing.

We were throw a lifeline we didn't deserve. Duncan won another header, Kev (I'm not going to call him Super today)was brought down by the keeper. Pen. Rhino blasted the spot kick home.

Ipswich went ahead just before the half when Netherland hit a free-kick past Simmo.

Half-Time 1-2

Toby came on for the second half for Clarkey. Is he short or what?

There was very little that went on in the 2nd half worth talking about, other than a volley from Dunc that was well saved. This was a very poor performance from Everton and I'm a very pissed off Blue at the moment.

We need alot of improvement from alot of players if we are going to start climbing the table.

The Blue Kipper star man was Duncan Ferguson, who put in a much improved performance. He won the bulk of the balls thrown up to him, but players around him like the Captain have got to be up for it and willing to react to his flick ons. Hurry up back Rad.

Walter: "We are right in it. I was disappointed wiyh how we started today. We lost the game in the first 20 minutes"

Lard: Who are playing next week?

Jogger: The Arse

Lard: Fuckin hell

Oo ar, oo ar………..oo ARE the Tractor Boys?
by
Mickey Blue Eyes.

New signing Swedish international midfield youngster Tobias Linderoth (go on, think of a song and a nickname for THAT one, choristers) checked in on Thursday with a four year contract. Which means renegotiations in eighteen months if he makes the grade. Could be one of Smiffy's bargain buys or one of his turkeys. We'll see. If he's as good as the original Olly it will do me. Not the one who collected red and yellow cards for a hobby, the one who could play footy when he tired of kicking at players like the ineffable dicksplat Robbie Savage.

While I'm ranting on about songs, in my Villa report I forgot to mention a new one invented by Steve. This one is really complicated, so pay attention. It goes:

"Suuuper,
Super Swede,
Suuuuper,
SuperSwede,
Super Yesper Blomquist!"

Got it? Repeat until your eyeballs revolve in different directions. Geoff and Paul were suitably envious. Gosh, life can get complicated if you let it. And Steve owed them one for stealing the copyright on his Stubbsy Song, later metamorphasised into the Davey Song at Spurs. Someone has to set the record straight and I am pleased to be the vehicle for what is after all an ethical exercise. Mine's a pint of lager Steve, and not in a brown envelope.

I also forgot to mention a song practice I heard in the Street End during the Orient match. Two optimists were using the old Dean Martin song "That's Amore" as the basis of:

"When the ball
Hits the goal
It's not
Shearer or Cole,
That's Zamora…………………
Who's the scorer!"

They must have been on a creative writing course with the Mafia Correspondence College, Las Vegas. Not bad though.

Then John Gregory took over as manager of Derby, thus making their third manager of the season. If he manages to turn them around it will be a minor miracle, the sort he couldn't perform at Villa and one of the reasons the brummie branch of the Melledrew Tendency wanted him gone. Mind you, as we know from our own experience, those mad bastards hate everyone, everywhere and want everyone out as soon as possible so's they can get someone else in to hate just as much. Weird, weird people. You can imagine them snarling and spitting at their own image in the bathroom mirror every morning just to keep up the venom level. Odd, very odd, and entirely without genuine humour the lot of 'em.

[REALITY CHECK: "Lord" Wakeham justifiably got dragged into the Enron scam when the Yank Trade Union Federation finally nailed him to the wall for his part in the auditors' committee (and boardroom fraud) of Enron. You know what THAT'S for don't you? Of course you do. It's for overseeing the company finances to make sure everything is honest and above board. Except they somehow, amongst a zillion other things, missed how the Enron Suits had inflated profits by at least $600 mill while they were emptying company accounts into their own pockets. Now you know why that fucking mad harridan Thatcher appointed him energy minister back in the last days of her last government. Also, why he's on the boards of nineteen other companies. Also why he ran the Press Complaints Commission here in Blighty. Anyone out there still naïve enough to believe there's no such thing as an establishment?

In The Guardian, Jonathan Freedland observed that the appointed pretzel prez had some outstanding speech writers, but his rhetorical trademark remains the, wait for it, "syntactic mangle." Not a bad dull blow, that. Pity it came in a foolish arse-head of an article comparing the Kennedy dynasty with the Bush dynasty. Silly boy, Jonathan. Go read your 'istory and get it right next time. Travel via Dealey Plaza and you might learn something. The differences between JFK and the Texas Bush Oil Boy could scarcely be more stark, but you can't expect a half-wit journo looking for a cheap article and easy fees to understand that.

During the week, on Radio Five, a rockbrained woman from Republicans Abroad claimed Bush Baby wasn't stoopid (her word) and cited the fact that he had an MBA. Oh. That's alright then. Solves everything. Certainly did the world of good at Enron.

Meantime, Yank-owned Vauxhall (riddled with MBAs incidentally) announced 850 "voluntary" redundancies at the Ellesmere Port car plant. Voluntary you understand in the sense that they have to go when the management tell them they need to "be more competitive" by "becoming leaner." The slime who pull this sort of stroke inevitably talk of something called "creative destruction." Which means more money in their pockets, which is the creative bit, at the expense of you and your family, which is the destructive bit. All of this is yet another salami slice to remove the plant to some underpaid sweat shop in Turkey or some other poverty-stricken location run by a Yank/European-approved junta. Predictably, scarcely a peep out of our self-censored "free press." Only twelve months ago our local gobshite press was full of how well the men had done. Now?……………….Nothing. When they are most needed they run a mile.

Never mind. The local Echo has also assured us there are 50,000 jobs on the way. Bet that reassures your ass. Just as you'll be reassured by the news that the Post Office is going to be "privatised" (read: ripped off by Enron Suit lookalikes). And still the Chief Messenger Boy brown noses and carries out the wishes of the establishment. If he ever summons the courage to actually start defending our society and your living standards watch the media turn on him like the pack of hounds he won't ban from our rural communities. Prick, thy name is Blair and co.]

Friday brought the news that Smiffy's made a bid for Lee Carsley of Coventry. Now call me picky but I think Lee's pretty much a coil of untalented cack, never better demonstrated than each of his last three teams being a pile of poo or even relegation fodder. Nice omen huh? Seems to me he is The Gravedigger without the fist-waving. Oh well, just goes to show how far we've fallen. I'll take it all back if he arrives and turns out to be a good acquisition. It wouldn't be the first time I've been wrong but this time I reckon I'm bang on.

Ipswich arrived on the back of a 4-1 Cup hiding at home to Man. City, which was like watching your best silk bedsheets being trampled by a pair of unlaced muddy Doc Martens. (Oh alright, if you insist………………I exaggerate. Only, I have never taken to the wet-eyed simpering persona of Keegan, not ever, and I'm not about to start now.) It was an odd game. The Tractor Boys kept passing it around marvellously and then just as profoundly got cleverly minced by some superb counter-attacks. Afterwards, poor George Burley looked and sounded like some pinkies I used to take the parody piss out of regularly until I got bored. But Town remain one of my current favourite teams because they really do play an outstanding passing game with lots of culture. I am glad they have managed to haul themselves off the bottom of the table.

Before the match, to the Marriott city centre hotel with Texyla for the club launch of a better organised supporters service fronted by the new marketing manager, Andy Oldknow. It was worth going to on the basis that things could hardly be worse than they are at the moment. And indeed it does promise to get better. Such a pity, therefore, that Andy had the commanding presence of a lettuce. But I digress.

At least the meeting gave some sort of rationale to various ideas which have floated around for a long time, long before Andy arrived at our club all Suited up like a Greek peasant on a Sunday, i.e, black suit, black shirt, black shoes and black tie. I couldn't see the socks or (presumably) boxers. I wish him great good luck. He'll need to be a good deal less touchy when it comes to awkward questions though. I wasn't even trying and easily had him twitching at one point. Suitette Gillian Flatley wasn't too bad except for a remarkable inclination to talk without punctuation or respiration.

The meeting was given a draft set of Articles of Affiliation, one of which was, and I know you'll love this one as much as I:

"The Branch shall ensure that each and every individual Branch member (the "Member"):

…

1.2 shall not at any time do or say, or permit to be done or said, anything which in the opinion of Everon FC and/or the Branch is, or may be, prejudicial and/or detrimental (whether directly or indirectly) to the image, reputation and/or goodwill of Everton FC and/or any of its properties and/or any of its contractual partners (whether commercial or otherwise) and/or any Branch, and/or which brings or may bring any of the same into disrepute."

Amongst other things, they also want to see a set of annual accounts for each branch and a full list of members' names and addresses. There are others.

Friends, only a Suit with fascist tendencies can have thought up the beauty that is 1.2. Now call me picky again but it reads like a gag order to this Blue Belly. Like me, you will doubtless want to tell Andy to shove said paragraph sideways up his and/or jaxy. Oo-er…………I've just realised that means I can't join the happy band if I don't sign up to the same para. Which, like you, I wouldn't do if they dragged me thrashing and howling into Camp X-Ray in Guantanamo. Before you get over sensitive, Andy/Gillian, this is called "VOICING AN OPINION." And if you don't like it, shove it sideways etc. There. That's really done it now. Oh well, back to having independent thoughts, freely arrived at and freely delivered without fear or favour. You know, as in an open democracy.

Here's a thought: Wasn't the ticket fiasco V Orient in direct contravention of paragraph 1.2? Just asking, like. Stop grinning at the back. This isn't FUNNY.

Afterwards we fell into a taxi and got to the ground just in time for the kick off. Which in retrospect was a bad mistake. Properly timed, we could have missed the match altogether. Christ, there goes para 1.2. again………………………

Our team, the best we had in the circumstances. Gazza, Jesper and Davey restored, Clarkey's debut, newbee Toby on the bench. Looked promising even taking into account their good recent league form. I couldn't see us losing. I felt real good about this one. Huh.

Forget it. They ran rings around us. Passed us to death in fact, like any other team who can string, say, three passes together. The penalty we scored from was the only way we ever looked like we were going to get one.

Their first goal came after ten minutes and involved at least seven rather neat passes before someone called Sixto Paralta casually sidefooted it home into the Street End. Our midfield and defence looked as though they were still trying to properly pronounce or spell the scorer's name at the time. But it was no more than the Tractor Boys deserved, at the time and for the next twenty minutes. There was no denying the quality of their passing and team play, or their individual skill. They were a joy to watch. Hurt, like, but still a great credit to George Burley and their club. They are far and away the best pure footy playing side I have seen this season. Of course this makes them somewhat fragile, as City showed in the Cup match.

Okay, I'll own up. There's more than a bit of emotion involved here: They remind me irresistibly of our great championship team of '69-'70. Oh well.

While they were tracing beautiful patterns we were hoofing the ball up to The Yin and/or SuperKev, subject to paragraph 1.2. above. I'd say it was humiliating except we've been here before many times. There's no point moaning about it, though many did and quite rightly too. We were awful, absolute garbage.

So it came as a major surprise when we drew level quite against the run of play. A high cross from the right eventually made its way to the left edge of their goal area and their 'keeper needlessly downed Kev for a penalty. Unsy thudded it firmly to the 'keeper's left low down but he still got a hand on it before it shot up into the net.

For the next ten minutes we had them rattled through, erm, hoofing the ball up to The Yin and SuperKev. And here let it be said that The Yin looked more interested than most other games. Maybe his new short haircut indicates a clearance of useless psychological loads and the arrival of a new determinism. See how easy this psychobabble shite is? Not, I hasten to add, that it made too much difference. He still heads it everywhere except to one of ours while die-hard devotees keep bleating that nobody gets on the end of them. You would think the penny would drop after all these years and umpteen different partners, including one Alan Shearer esq. I only mention this because it's getting tiresome listening to some brickbrained dickheads in the crowd near me.

Fact is, our only strike force worth a bucket of warm spit is The Rad-SuperKev. One of the alternatives (the one in this match) is useful only for its ability to distract the opposition. Not that SuperKev was much good this time out. If anything, he was worse than The Yin. As I see it, there's no chemistry between the two of them. Really, the argument is marginal and of little use while we have a midfield which doesn't operate even fitfully, doesn't win the ball much and can't pass it straight when it does.

No real surprise then when the Tractor Boys got a second a minute or so before half time. A free kick slightly left of centre, about twenty metres out. A slight touch to one side and it screamed into Simo's top right corner, unstoppable. Overall, well deserved.

The second half continued much the same pattern of the first though we did manage to string some passes together, particularly down our left where Jesper was probably our best player. On a couple of occasions he managed to twist and squirm through classily to no avail. All afternoon everyone's crossing was terrible while their centre backs weren't really fazed by our disjointed front two. We never looked likely. Their play was very pretty without threatening anything spectacular.

Toby came on for the second half for his first taste of English footy. I was surprised at his small stature. Understandably, he struggled a bit and seemed out of his depth for most of the time. But his first tackle was quite solid and he won the ball cleanly and well. He had a couple of other moments too. Nothing to write home about, more time needed before a verdict is delivered.

So we lost a very important match indeed, one we had to win to try to avoid the obvious and looming consequences of the next three league matches. From which I expect precisely zilch, especially if we don't have The Rad back.

Taking it further, it seems likely we will be in the bottom three by mid-March. And my (very optimistic) guesstimate of winnable points provides us with a total of 40 at season's end. In other words, once again in the deepest shite. If omens are anything to go by, the arrival of Carsley means we'll get relegated.

This is all subject to paragraph 1.2 you understand. I might submit this match report to Andy for approval. Then again, I might not. In fact, the more I think about it……………fuck YEW, Andy. I'm in that kind of mood if it's alright with you.

Next up, Arsenal. Erk. Pass the sick-bag, Gillian.

Good news: Davie Weir, Gazza, Pembo, & Jesper join the squad along with new signing Toby Linderoth. Alec Cleland looks like keeping his place at right back, with Watson, & Hibbert injured. (01/02/02)

Everton from: Simonsen, Cleland, Stubbs, Weir, Unsworth, Naysmith, Gemmill, Gascoigne, Campbell, Ferguson, Pembridge, Blomqvist, Gerrard, Tal, Moore, Cadamarteri, Linderoth, Clarke, McLeod, Pilkington.

There could be some additions to the squad after last night's heroics. Walter is hopeful Toby Linderoth will sign in time to become part of the squad on Satueday. Also expected to return are Davy Weir, Paul Gascoigne and Jesper Blomqvist. But the bad news is Tont Hibbert will be missing after getting an ankle injury from the Villa game. Steve Watson is rated 50/50 at the moment. (29/01/02)