BACK TO SQUARE ONE, MINUS
By
Mickey Blue Eyes

After bad losses to Middlesbrough and Tottenham and welcome wins over Stockport and Leeds we were back on the roller coaster. No money, see. That’s the way it is. And it isn’t going to change any day soon.

Both the losses were as appalling as the wins were intoxicating. We’ve been here before so no real surprise there, then. Me, I was fortunate enough to have the compensation of riding around Manhattan in a black stretch limo getting sozzled on bottles of champagne courtesy of my friend Jack. The wins also brought forth the talents of one James McFadden esq., an outrageously gifted and egotistical young Jock who might yet make a great player. The way he took on and ran rings around defence's was exhilarating in a Catch-22 sort of way. I hope he does something about his hair though. It screams of too much wasteful arrogance vested in a rat’s tail. Self-discipline is in order if consistency is his target. Get arrogant over your play, James, not your barnet. Leave that to people like Gazza and Alan Smith. All the rest is shite.

Friday night I was accompanied by Kipper and Jogger to my last quiz at Goodison Park. I am quite useless on these occasions since they require an organised raiding of memory banks. I don’t mind doing this professionally but I never allow it to enter my leisure moments because it lacks spontaneity. Hence my contribution verged on zero after Jogger snarled at us for arriving late and completely scattered my concentration. I spent far too much time thereafter inquiring if he had Drama Queen lessons. I couldn’t take it seriously and lapsed into wild (wrong) guesses which were my main contribution to us ending third from bottom. From the top table The Editor lashed this as “….should be ashamed of yourselves.” Which might have held some weight if we hadn’t been giggling so much through the lager. Nevertheless I heartily recommend these little parties to you. The company is first class and it offers the kind of competitiveness most footy fans relish. Not only that you can discover absolutely vital facts such as the name of Everton’s first captain, Nick Ross – no relation to Harry Ross, our inestimable club padre. Go, enjoy.

This came hard on the heels of the latest media sales bollocks of an alleged £35 million bid by Chelsea for The Duke. It was shite of course, and duly dismissed as such by Moyesy, Bill Kenwright and even the slimy ProActive agent. It won’t stop the rumours, nor will it stop the young man’s own short and long term intentions. I think he’s here for just as long as he wants to be. Nobody can force him to leave and anybody who tries to manipulate him into leaving would likely be torn apart by the fans. One day some fans will get together and create mayhem at players’ agency offices. That might concentrate minds wonderfully. After which, doubtless said agents would move to the twentieth floor of some high rise office building somewhere in central Lahndan, thus neatly demonstrating why everybody loathes the English metropolis.

But the fact is the board would HAVE to look at a bid up in the mad region of £50 million. How could they not? After all, that is more than the notional value of the club. Like every other club except Manchester United we are mortgaged to our knackers thanks to the system the media helped (and continue to help) propagate. If Beckham and Ferdinand could be sold by the Mancs and the Sheepshaggers, who are we to be invulnerable? Not that Rooney or his family are the least interested in what others think. They have their own concerns and feelings and we should respect them. He isn’t a piece of meat or any other commodity. If he wants to stay, great, that’s what we all want. If he decides to go, then respect that too. It’s his decision. The club will carry on whether he comes or goes, just as it did when Jeffers and Ball left. They made their decision and had to live with it. Jeffers is now back but has almost certainly lost the fans, scoring exploits notwithstanding. Ball is playing in the wilderness of Scottish football and probably yearning to be back in the English game. In even a nominal democracy everybody has the right to freedom of decision and movement.

A match free Saturday was relieved by England’s rugby win over South Africa in the Rugby World Cup. I was suitably patriotically roused, even though I regard rugby as largely wrestling-on-wheels in a chaotic ruck-maul played with a funny shaped ball. As “Sweet Chariot” echoed and re-echoed I telephoned Oz friends to gloat and threaten their team with immolation when England face off with them. Yes, I know this is a mistake. It always comes back to haunt you. My excuse is you have to get these digs in while you can otherwise the Ozzies think you are a wimp. Friends, never give Ozzies the benefit of the doubt. Walk all over them at every opportunity. They remind you unavoidably of a footy internet forum – lots of movement but almost all of it a voiding of the bowels.

This nicely dovetailed with England’s previous qualification for Euro 04 when they drew with Turkey in the real football game. Mercifully, no England fans appear to have made the journey to Turkey, current home of loony chauvinism and surely in line to be chastised by UEFA. Some tabloids claimed The Duke smacked Alpay one on the nose during a fracas off-pitch. We have to condemn him if he did but I haven’t yet met anyone who didn’t think the nasty recipient-bastard had it coming. The most important thing is the way Rooney played during the match, and that was magnificent. Seventeen years of age, unfazed and almost a scorer. Amazing. You could almost smell the fear in the Turks every time he went near the ball.

It’s as well to remember he is still subject to physical growth and the uncertainty of possible growth spurts and hormone surges. Think back to your own experience of adolescence. It never ceases to amaze me how readily some people forget the whole head-spinning event. It’s a safe bet Moyesy hasn’t forgotten though. Which is good for young Rooney, us and England, to say nothing of the good of the game generally. He’s a once-in-a-lifetime alright. Enjoy his innocent spontaneity while you can. Just be sensible about it.

And so to the match.

Well, what do you expect me to say about it? If you were there you won’t need me to tell you. If you watched it on TV you were relatively lucky. You could turn it off and go do something useful. If you weren’t there or couldn’t watch on TV, count yourself lucky. It really was that bad.

In fact it was worse than that. It was ominous. Moyesy’s body language spoke louder than any words of mine. Usually he’s out at the dotted line all hard edged tension and hunger. In this match he had his hands in his pockets and looked on with a bent back and a seeming air of resignation.

What more can he do? He’s shown the players what they’re capable of. He’s installed a fitness regime much better than anything under Walter or HK3. He’s shown them how much he wants to win and succeed. He deserved a good deal more than he got in this game. Frankly, most of the players were an outright disgrace to the word “professional.” Nigel Martyn was the only genuine exception. The rest of them best go look in a mirror now and have their excuses ready before they do.

The fact is this display was awful, at least as bad as anything under Smith and possibly a good deal worse. Continuance of it means we will be back in the relegation struggle before you can say “Shrewsbury Town.” There were no redeeming features whatsoever. Nor can the conditions be blamed – a shower soaked the pitch just prior to kick off but it didn’t affect Southampton to anywhere near the same extent. Overall, Southampton deserved to win by two goals. They didn’t because their forward play was just as woeful as our general play.

I won’t bother you with description of the phases of play or of individual performances because, as Glebe Lad Neil said, “My opinion is that we were shite, and more shite.” You couldn’t argue with him. Southampton were marginally better but it’s strictly a relative observation.

The same old structural faults were evident everywhere in the team. The old ghosts returned with a vengeance, this time accompanied by a few new ones. But where the haunting is concerned we have to wait a bit longer to see if it is the former who have fucked up the latter.

What concerns me now is whether this is as ominous as my instincts say it is. The problem is, it follows in the wake of dreadful displays at Middlesbrough and Spurs. And of course we have to wait for the return of Rooney, Ferguson and The Rad. However, I am not in the business of making excuses where none are adequate. As I said, time for the players to take a good long look at themselves.

I will be at Villa next week. As an eternal optimist I would like to say I felt good about it. But I don’t. Rooney or no Rooney, the rest of them better realise they owe the fans some sort of loyalty and reasonable display of competence. A repeat of this match and they’ll deserve all the criticism they get. Enough is enough, even now.

Moyesy is leaving it late as late as possible before announcing the team on Sunday. Stubbsey is rated as 50/50, while big Duncan joined the boys in training on Thursday he is still doubtful after recovering from a chest infection. With Wayne suspended it may be an opportunity for Super Kev to start his 1st game of the season along side the Rad.

Moyesy said:"Alan Stubbs we feared was going to be out for a longer period but he’s doing well and still has an outside chance for the weekend. Duncan’s done a little bit of training, but he’s still suffering. His groin seems to be ok but I think it’s the chest infection which has given us most concern at the moment. We'll have to wait and see."

"We’re determined to get back on track.We didn’t play well against Tottenham, but a performance similar to Leeds United and a result would be very welcome. We’re desperate to get back up and running again. The signs are good. I’ve seen the players. They’re bright. There’s been a sparkle in their eyes this week in training and hopefully they’ll show it on Sunday."

The Rad said: "Now we have six strikers and if they are all available that is a lot of competition and it means everybody has to be on top of their game.If everybody is fit then the results will come.The result is the most important thing. I don't really care who plays or who doesn't as long as we get the result."

Davie Weir said: “I think the defeat at Spurs should hurt everyone. I think everybody within the team has got to feel that they’ve let themselves down, they’ve let the fans down and like I say the only way to address that is to go out on Sunday and get a result. It’s not often that we can say that we haven’t played well in the last twelve months but that wasn’t the case against Tottenham. We got what we deserved. It’s up to us to go out on Sunday and re-address that and try and stop them scoring and try and get a few at the other end.”

Everton from: Wright, Watson, Stubbs, Weir, Unsworth, Radzinski, Campbell, Ferguson, Jeffers, Li Tie, Simonsen, Kilbane, Naysmith, Gravesen, Yobo, Linderoth, McFadden, Martyn, Carsley, Hibbert, Clarke, Osman, Chadwick, Turner.

Jogger's eleven to start: Martyn, Hibbert, Yobo, Stubbs, Naysmith, Watson, Linderoth, Gravesen, McFadden, Campbell, Radkinski.