Quotes

Moyesy : "I bet when you look back at the game you think Everton feel like they are going to win."It looks like that to me at the moment and long may that continue. You always enjoy it when you are winning. It's a great job and Everton Football Club is a fantastic place and I am very fortunate to be manager."

Jogger: I'm knackered.

Lard: Shut up and try and grab Joeys shirt

Jogger: Why it won't fit me

Lard: It's for me fatty

Those Dark, Satanic Wools
By Redundant Geoff

Grinning from ear to ear after 6 hours of unbeatable football, I thought it was time to see how the rest of them live. Redundant Dad works at Eebyegumwood Park so he got me a ticket for Wools v Celtic. The idea that we could be playing European football next season appeals to all so this game should whet the appetite.

Set off from Chemical Riviera East Station for the 1½ hour journey to Wool Land. No soon as I got off the train to change at Shamchester Oxford Road, I'm surrounded by drunk, humourless Glaswegians (I sound like Redundant Dad). None are spouting yet so I am spared the "Aren't Celtic good singers" rubbish. I then changed at notloB where more are lingering. The train into Wool Land is full of green and white but it is their day in the sun - even though it was chuckin' it down (chuckin' - next I'll be eating tripe and ttaallkkiinngg rriigghhtt ssllooww like all wools). I got off at Darwen, a town in it's own right but part of Blackburn. The thing with Darwen is that it is built on two mountainsides so wherever you want to walk, you need crampons and an oxygen mask so I get a joey to the Parental Palace. The first taxi on the rank is driven by a guy wearing an Everton coat - super start.

Pre match drinking by the ground is out as the Fernhurst was full at 9.00am. Blackburn, against the advice off the fuzz and the club, decided to welcome half of Glasgow to come down and spend their Monopoly looking Cadburys. So I drank at the Millstone in Darwen. A girl behind the bar, Lisa, smiled and said she too was an Evertonian - my luck is in. "My boyfriend Pete is an Evertonian too". Ah well, you can't win them all.

Off to the match on a decrepit looking bus. This too is full of green and white. From then on it turned ugly. The Racist Bigots start singing about Sands and the IRA. Can't stand it. We are supposed to have some affinity with these pricks. I for one have lost any liking I had for them but Rangers are just as bad if not worse, they gave us Walter.

Round the ground it's worse. Papers, Clubs and fans all talk of the small minority of fans that spoil it for the rest of them. Well that doesn't wash when a sizeable majority want to be Racist Bigots. I wasn't taking much notice of what is happening around me and I fall in along side a group of the Wool Burbury Henri Lloyd nutters. A Racist Bigot fan walks towards us and starts singing of the IRA. The Wool Hoolies can't even spring a drunk right. They aim a swinging punch and miss by a mile. The Polis are in like a flash and I slope off to see Redundant Dad before the match. He works as a posh box steward and tells me Sir Rock of Gibraltar and the Blonde loving Rod Stewart are at the ground. Redundant Dad told me later that Roddie wanted to leave early and could the stretch limo he has come and pick him up. No it couldn't as the road was blocked to traffic. He had to take his jewel-encrusted zimmer and WALK the 100 yards to his car. Apparently medics were on standby just in case he collapsed at the effort.

I take my seat in the Philanthropists Stand and there seems to be a lack of Wools around me. There was a commotion in the corner of the Darwen End and the CIS stand - this is the odd looking one that used to be called the Riverside but the corporate lackeys want their moneys worth for their Cadburys. It turns out that 800 fans have been refused entry even though they had valid tickets. Forgeries are rife but I suppose that it can only be expected.

On the evidence the Wools would pose no problems at all on Sunday so I am happy enough when woeful defending lets in Swede to score. Big pockets of Racist Bigot fans all over the ground are going mad including about 50 behind yours truly. These Racist Bigots got in on the Walker family tickets. They have a big block of them for the extended family of the Last Great Philanthropist. Forgeries they said but Wool fans are notoriously fickle. These "fans" must think they have already had their day in the sun and must have wanted as many Racist Bigots as possible to watch the game - just as long as they have parted with a substantial amount of Cadburys.

After 70 minutes I get off. Nothing left to see and I leave confident that the 3 points are ours on Sunday. Also I wanted to dodge the 12,000 or so Racist Bigots who would definitely be staying to the end. This is Wool land remember. There are no buses running because of the match - What? I am not walking but joeys are definitely in short supply. Time to be alert. Just as I am losing heart, Adam from Superline taxis (promised him a bit of a plug) picked me up. He is going to Darwen anyway and doesn't charge me but he does want a tip amounting to five whole Cadburys. Back to the Millstone for more local slush. People are asking me what the score was - eh? Weren't they watching it? "Oh no" they said. They knew they would get beat so they didn't bother. I told them it was a draw and they were happy with that. It is cruel to take the micky but it was such a tempting target and I couldn't miss. I got off before they found out as they looked quite handy and I'm not built to take a pummelling.

Saturday night and I go out with Redundant Mum and Dad and London 'Tarby" Phil. He's come for the match and would be taking Redundant Grandpa to the game. He has been going to Goodison since 3 days before his eleven + - he's 88 now. Not bad going eh!

We go to this restaurant where the food is supposed to be expensive for the area. I could live off a fiver a week up here. I am surprised that there aren't more fatties in Darwen when you look at the portions you get. I ordered chicken wings as a starter. There was about eight in a portion and chicken wings aren't big right? Wrong, these local chickens must be the size of an Ostrich. A bowl of soup came in bucket size proportions. No way could we clean plate the meal but all the local skinnies are asking for bread to mop up the sauce.

Match day and I go off to meet the rest of The Bus at the Fernhurst. I confidently told Texyla earlier in the week that the pub would be open at eleven - which is what I was told. Twelve o'clock and I still haven't had a drink. Terrible for an away. Strawberry Blonde Joanne, Peter and Christopher are playing a game of footy outside. Strawberry Blonde told me that she won but knowing Peter and Christopher, they were probably trying to beat each other whilst ignoring the stalking horse.

The bar staff looked shattered. After Thursday I'm not surprised and with a day of serving Everton fans who are not noted for their abstinence and sobriety it was almost enough to take pity on the Cadbury grabbers.

MBE and Mogsy want a word. Mogsy wants me to set the record straight about who he supports. Alright he isn't a Pinky; he hates them like the rest of us. He is still an awful snooker player though. MBE snotted him 4-0 on Tuesday and he is still smarting even now. MBE said I would have to cover his back as his computer is busted, bless. That's one less job for him and one more for me. Widnes Ste is there with his wife still stapled to his side. Jimmy Jimmy is in good voice as is the whole pub and it's only 12.15. It's getting packed so brothers "There's only one" Paul and Ste "I'm not a Shite fan" Gerrard, Terry "I always wear Medium" Smith and yours truly go upstairs for a quite drink. No chairs so we stand. MBE wants me to write about the joy of the 1st round proper of the Corporate FA Cup. "This is what it's all about" he says. The match on is Forest Green Rovers v Exeter. "Fans dream of the Cup" he pipes. Not on the evidence on offer. Dire 0-0s are not awe-inspiring. Still, it was nearly time to support the Mackems. The whole of upstairs was singing, chanting and swearing at the screen - why? Alcohol and a healthy dislike of the Pinkies are why but they still can't hear us. St Helens Munt tells us of a chant the Pinkies are trying to teach to their entire Taunton Branch - a song disparaging our Duke. He wants to hijack it when we go to Shitfield for our early Xmas present. The gist of it suggests that Backside Heskey eats too much in Darwen and casts doubt on St Michael of Owen's sexuality. Rousing stuff I assure you but to the tune of Jingle Bells? Make your own mind up when you hear it. Murdishaw John, with his BIG flag remembers some old Big Nose songs and belts them out with a raucous roar.

A bit of a storm ensues when the song is started celebrating our championship winning team. MBE points out that this team is 18 years old and we should be celebrating our current crop. However they haven't won anything yet but he does have a point. "I'm not a Shite fan" is furious that Paul Bracewell is never remembered and is always substituted by Andy Gray. Good point but you try telling 500 or so people they are wrong and you are right. You'll get clobbered.

Super 1st goal and 2-0 confidently predicted we make our way to Eebyegumwood. I go off to see Redundant Dad as I won't be able to after the match. No tearful goodbyes as we are Men. Men don't show emotion but it's the unspoken that speaks volumes.

See Redundant Grandpa, Tarby and Carnforth Mike who are sitting near to us. Just like at Goodison - you just can't get away from them - bless them. Bullens Paul isn't around but I know he is there. He'll tell me so in fact several times when we play Baggy Baggy Boing Boing.

The Rad misses an easy chance early on when he passes into Yankie Brad's hands from a Harry Hill cross. Brad - there's an Evil Empire name. Only the Yanks can call their son Brad. Super made up for it though not long after with a goal from Super supplied by Harry Hill again. I remember him playing for Derby and the Wools and he was dog. He is now in the form of his life and you just can't fault him.

Not that we did but we could have sat back and just soaked up whatever they could throw at us. Andy Pandy and Dwight (that should be a Yank name if ever I saw one) were just as lazy and ineffectual as they were on Thursday against the Racist Bigots. I would like to say it was because of Yobo and a great Stubbsy - of course they were ace again - but the two of them couldn't hit a cow's arse with a banjo.

The papers are bound to go on about the last frantic 10 minutes but we were never in danger of throwing it. Whistle goes from Poll - he hates us - and joy in the Darwen End from another away sell out. Back to the Bus in good voice. "Strawberry Blonde" Joanne is ever so happy - aren't we all. Peter and Christopher the sons of "There's only one" Paul Gerrard are singing along with us in the back. Of course the filthier songs have to be missed out - it's only polite. Christopher isn't happy that we didn't win 10-0 to take us into 3rd but we'll just have to wait until next week when The Chelsea Village Idiots lose. I pointed out that it is 7½ hours without conceding in the league - that's a whole working day for some. More ale and back in the Chemical Riviera to further discuss the merits of a game well won with the aid of a few swift ones.

I can't help thinking that it isn't going to last and we'll slip up somewhere. But lets make hay while the sun shines and hope we can keep this up until after Xmas and see what happens from there. Why can't we play the Pinkies now? (18/11/02)

Team News

It looks as though Stubbsey will be fit for Sunday, so I see no reason for Moyesy to change the team that started against Charlton. Davie Weir will be hoping that Alan isn't fit.

Moyesy said:"He trained yesterday so we'll just hope there is no reaction."When the lads are playing with as much confidence as they are at the moment you don't want to make too many changes, so we'll have to wait and see."(16/11/02)

Jogger's eleven to start: Wright, Hibbert, Stubbs, Yobo, Unsworth, Carsley, Li Tie, Gravesen, Pembridge, Radzinski, Campbell.
Subs: Barlow, Branch, Angell, Bakajoko & Clause the Scouse.