Enigma Variations
By
Mickey Blue Eyes

It was half time during the awful Southampton game. From the next seat on the left a tongue-in-cheek Peter asked me, “What does ‘enigmatic’ mean?” I couldn’t resist the obvious answer, “If you mean the way we just played, it means ‘shite.’ “ Everybody in the vicinity rumbled agreement.

An interesting adjective/adverb/noun, is “shite.” Oddly enough it only made it into the Concise Oxford Dictionary in recent years, and only then after Alan Bleasdale revived it in one of his genius TV scripts about our beloved city. Since then it has been adopted with gusto by peasants everywhere. At least until the next Flavour-of-The-Month coarse language comes along. The best use of it I have heard was in the movie “Braveheart” when some of Wallace’s guerrillas urge him to break with the Scottish Melledrew Tendency establishment by telling him, “They’d argue over the colour of shite.” Sounds to me exactly like the kind of Suits and box-ticking form-fillers who hold back any sort of substantial progress anywhere in Blighty.

You’ll have to forgive this micro-concern with ordeur but it is surely acceptable given our recent form. This hopefully brief Smithesque flirtation also reminds me of a famous Bertrand Russell yarn. He wrote a short story about a man called Prz, pronounced “pish.” A magazine prize was offered to the best correspondent critic. Russell awarded it to a man who wrote in and said, “This is a load of trz, pronounced ‘tosh.’ “ Up to the Villa match we were playing both prz and trz in equal proportions.

After the Saints game the Kipper crew assembled in Wetherspoons, the entire group who invaded Lahndan for that trz away game at Fulham and an overnight stay at a hotel which caught fire. Lavington Spa had strolled through the smoke and stood outside unconcerned in his underpants and black socks, no shoes, while the local fire brigade stormed the building in full pyro-battle gear, oxygen tanks included. There was so much reminiscent laughter it was almost criminal. Well, we had to dull the pain somehow. Evertonians are wonderful people, so unlike those nasty pinkies riddled with bilious jealousy of Manchester United. Lavo is due to rearrange a similar weekend somewhere in England. I hope we can avoid the incendiary affects this time.

Togetherness was emphasised on Monday at a 1995 Cup Final Do in the Adelphi. I long ago decided I wasn’t going to go to too many of these in any one year but Kipper prevailed with an irresistible invite, for which Yours Truly is grateful. It was of course marvellous even allowing for the inevitable main course of chicken. Moreover, Jogger said firmly he was once again Cock o’ The Adelphi. Mickey Finn performed his usual comedy set, which I can now recount with the same exactitude as Howard Kendall’s after dinner speeches, or speech. And Keith was there too, because Keith is ALWAYS at these functions, whatever they are, wherever they are. He’s mad, but aren’t we all.

He recounted how he attended an appalling function at Goodison the previous Saturday involving an American murderer fleeing from summary murder at the hands of other organised murderers and drug dealers on whom he had informed to the feds in the Land of The Free. Now this transatlantic social trollop makes money through “addressing” an audience of anyone who’ll pay him, according to Keith, to spout inane shite at a crowd roughly constituted of one third local scumbag drug dealers and barrow boys looking for a cheap vicarious buzz from the misery of organised crime in the United States. Yeuk. If the recipient charity knew the full story they’d probably send the cheque back with the kind of polite rejection you associate with decent people in dire need of dosh – but not at any cost. The club should be ashamed of itself for allowing this muck onto the premises. I hope the function suite was disinfected afterwards. Strictly by comparison the Adelphi Do was a breath of fresh air. Keith wore one of his broad grins all night, which is always preferable to his straight-faced piss-taker visage when he’s on a mission.

Like at the last Hall of Fame Do when he told Lavington Spa that he’d die for Everton if he had to. Needless to say, rightly, Lavo was outraged with this Drama Queen claptrap, with our young men and women committed to the useless (show us the WMD, Blair and Bush – we already know innocent civilian casualties are anything up to ten thousand) and illegal carnage in Iraq, and he stalked away from Keith before he did or said something he’d regret. At which Keith turned to the assembled company and said with straight-faced triumph, “Well that was easy, wasn’t it?” You wouldn’t swap moments like that for all the corrupt cheap ex-hoods in America and Europe combined.

Midweek saw the continuance of footy nonsense when there was a minor spat over The Duke’s eighteenth birthday celebrations. Apparently this is a big Fuck-off Do involving celebrities due to be held next week at Aintree Racecourse. Apparently it was Wayne’s agent who made the suggestion, and then did all the organising and media circus nonsense. Given THAT slimy source you could even fancy it was a Machiavellian scheme to drive a wedge between Moyesy and the youngster, thus reinforcing the agent’s position and therefore a possible move for zillions of pounds – and an agent’s percentage for doing sweet FA except cause unhappiness for everybody. Moyesy is right. It was a lousy idea, especially with the media waiting in the wings for said Duke to get into some scrape or other. Wayne finally gave a TV interview on match eve – the first time I have heard him – and he acquitted himself reasonably well, insofar as these things have any meaning at all except to keep the media in a job. Me, I just hope the youngster concentrates on his football, makes his own mind up and manages to sideline the leeches and the sycophants. Should he make a successful career in the game he’ll find them at every turn until he stops playing. Best he learns now how to recognise them and how to dump them. At any rate, he’s now an official Man and open to his own mistakes and triumphs. In his decision-making he is answerable only to himself. He will quickly find you can’t be half a virgin.

Like all Evertonians I want him to have many more triumphs than disappointments, but in the end his true measure as a human being will be how he handles the latter. For his own sake I would much rather he becomes a successful human being before he becomes a successful footballer, though naturally as an Evertonian I hope he will have both qualities. If he wants a rôle model he need look no further than the great Brian Labone, once referred to by the equally great Harry Catterick as, “The last of the Corinthians.” If he wants to see dried-out dessication and genuine human tragedy in a football perspective he has only to consult Paul Gascoigne, George Best, Stan Collymore and Billy Kenny. There are many other examples to whom he can look for inspiration and sobering aversion. If he can learn to relax and concentrate on his sport, physical problems notwithstanding, he will probably become a great football player. If he allows the cacophony of agents, hangers on and media (to say nothing of fans) to overwhelm him he will be lost. It is as basic as that. The choice is his.

The Birthday Party Saga was a classic, macrocosmic example. The slimy agent Stretford arranged the celebrity party without consulting either Moyesy or the club. Streftford knows perfectly well how much emphasis Moyesy and the club place on protecting the youngster from this kind of phoniness. Afterwards, the slimeball said, “I hold up my hands……………I didn’t explain to David Moyes……………I have always respected David Moyes.” All of which is self-justifying lying bollocks. Contact was as close as the nearest telephone. All Stretford had to do was pick it up and ask Moyesy’s opinion. I am willing to bet your house mortgage he didn’t do so because he KNEW what the answer would be. We all do. In other words, Stretford made it a fait accompli. Thereafter any reservations Moyesy expressed would inevitably sound like those of a party-pooper once the media did their disgusting worst.

Now, I don’t know about you, but I couldn’t give a shit about Stretford or the ProActive agency he works for, or the vast majority of the media. So far as I am concerned those people exist under stones and do nothing but ripoff the game. They are of the same stripe as the kind of corrupt “player minders” and low-level clerks who sell snide information to newspapers like the Sun. Trust me, friends, there’s a tiny group of them at Goodison, as there is at every club elsewhere. If I had my way the whole lot of them would be buried upto their necks in manure and then dowsed with urine to see if they ducked. Then I would get up in the morning and do it all over again, every hour, on the hour. NEVER trust an agent, a journo, a “minder” or a low level clerk. They are all of a piece. I hope Wayne Rooney learns this before his football career really takes off.

Moyesy also found time to encourage clubs to carry out their own drugs tests as a supplement to the FA tests. It was prompted by Rio Ferdinand’s “forgetfulness” when he was called to do his dutiful pee for Manchester United. Frankly I don’t believe Ferdinand, but that’s just my opinion. Anything which helps avoid the kind of corruption which ruled in the appointed Serie A drugs-testing clinic in Rome has my support. True footy fans will know the story of how the clinic was exposed for the rotten-to-the-core organisation it was. Drug taking is rife in Italian football even among the so-called big stars, which is why the game isn’t worth a carrot in The Boot. Virtually everybody was bribed to keep it quiet including the analysts. There’s no reason to assume our players are any better human beings than Italian players or that our system is immune to the kind corruption which has reduced the Italian game to a virtual laughing stock. By comparison, David Moyes is a paragon who ought to be listened to and respected. It is quite possible drug-taking is an exposure disaster waiting to happen in our game too. If it ever does come to that you can assume the game is finally on its knees.

Meanwhile, Alpay’s contract was terminated by mutual consent at Villa Park, thus freeing the Turk from the possibility of English nationalist abuse. This was an excellent idea for everybody concerned, including us. Doubtless some of our fans would have fallen hook, line and sinker for the obvious, and thus provided the media with yet another feeding frenzy. Alpay’s inclusion would also have given free ammunition for the tiny number of BNP members amongst our fans. Not that they need much, as the Villa match showed.

Match day – bright, cold, showery and a motorway trip on The Bus to the carbon monoxide strangulation around Birmingham laughably known as the M6 Spaghetti Junction. There were lots of new faces on The Bus since my last extended membership thereof. Apparently not of all them are benign and the behaviour of some of them at Tottenham was shameful for The Bus and the local club. Which was pissy-offy for Texyla, Mogsy and everyone else who has worked so hard to bring to its current enjoyable, well-organised state. To emphasise the point Texyla used The Bus microphone to tell the culprits that they were a disgrace and any repeat would have them expelled for good. There’s no question he’ll hold good to the threat. Personally I would have done it immediately after the event had I been there and had any say in the matter. In the vernacular, I would have fucked them off immediately. Which just goes to show how much patience Texyla has. As usual the general feel of the journey was cheerful and optimistic.

Eventually we arrived at our quaffing venue, Ruskin Hall. It sounds grand but actually it’s just a local working men’s club and about as ungrand as you can get. Fred, former midlands resident, stood at the door as a beaming greeter. Later we were joined by Kipper, Chris and Salty who had travelled independently. Midlands Evertonians were everywhere, every bit as full of it as anyone else. Recent playing form hasn’t diminished enthusiasm in the least. Astonishing. It was great to be back amongst it, albeit for a short period.

A short walk took us through Aston Park, an attractive and pretty oasis in an inner city wasteland, autumn leaves and colours sparkling with shower moisture. It brought us out at the Holte End, the popular end for home supporters, and now rebuilt as an all seater in reconstructed red brick Victoriana details, then around the Doug Ellis Stand to the away end. Somebody said it was bad idea to have a stand named after you while you were still alive, which brought the irresistible thought that some Villa fans would cheerfully change either or both state of affairs. Things don’t alter much at Villa Park. Nor do its fans, an odd job-lot of ill tempered miscreants and boo boys.

Like virtually everywhere else, all seated or not, away fans accommodation and the services thereto are nothing short of disgusting. Trying to get something to eat or drink is a complete waste of time, even if the stuff on sale was consumable, which it never is. This time our seats were up in the corner in front of the Doug Ellis Stand and just short enough of the cantilever roof for the odd shower to whip its contents over us. The sun slanted into our eyes and didn’t disappear until well into the game and dark shower clouds covered it.

Li Tie was in midfield, Nace at left back, Davey partnered Joey at centre back, Kilbane at left mid, and SuperKev and The Duke up front. Everyone else as before. Surely, we thought, it couldn’t be as bad as last week. It wasn’t, but only by the difference of the thickness of a paper sheet. Once again the performance was ominously bad and for all the same reasons. Last week we at least managed to create enough chances to have won. This week we created only two chances all afternoon. Villa were every bit as bad as we were and still managed to hit a post. No goals again, out third straight scoreless match. Any day now some unemployable media dope will start counting the minutes.

So to hell with the bad things. We all know what they are and there isn’t too much we can do about it. Moyesy has my sympathy plaiting sawdust. It won’t change until we get new blood in midfield and some decent service gets through to whoever plays up front.

So what encouragement can we take from events? Precious little, but for what it’s worth here’s my take:

Nigel Martyn is a big improvement on Richard Wright and gives everybody much more confidence, especially in his kicking and catching. I don’t see how he can be dropped in this form. Moreover, Moyesy is commendably loyal to good performances and Nige hasn’t let us down yet. All of which leaves Moyesy in a bit of a quandary. Wright is the younger player and cost a large sum. Nige is nearer to the end of his career. What measure do you use when it comes to half-and-half performances by both players?

Tony Hibbert gets better and more confident with each game. He tackles well and gets forward well when the passes are properly delivered. He only falters if left with no cover. This will probably diminish as his self confidence increases through more games.

Nace at left back is infinitely better than Nace in left midfield, though he still hasn’t recovered the form he originally had at full back. I believe that muscle split injury still haunts him one way or another. His tackling isn’t what it once was and that sometimes makes him look lightweight. However he still retains his pace off the mark and it is more useful from a full back position because he doesn’t have to double back or cover so much ground.

In the background are Sandro Pistone and David Unsworth. Sandro is the classiest player at the club by a long way, and Unsy never lets us down except when his long passing falters.

We are relatively lucky at centre back. Joey Yobo is a superb player even when patently he still has a lot to learn, especially, apparently, in his choice of boots. He slips over far too often. Nevertheless, his tackling, pace, timing and centre positional sense are all quite magnificent. Once we can find a suitable partner I have no doubt he will look even better. The only time I get nervous is if he has to go to either full back zone to protect against a breakthrough. All told, he has the potential to be a great player.

Davey Weir is nearing the end of his first class playing career but he still has the class and poise of a classic Scottish footballer. Stubbsy’s commitment isn’t in doubt, only his pace and relative slowness of thought. In the circumstances they are a good option for pairing with Joey.

Now Stevie Watson is out for six weeks with double hernia we are down to the bare bones in what is already our most vulnerable area, midfield. Gravesen’s close control isn’t in question, but his passing and attitude are. I have no idea what thought processes go through his mind. When he’s on form, which is hardly at all, he can be an inspiration. Li Tie’s enthusiasm and passing can be infectious; if it were only matched by body strength and staying power he would be twice the player he is. Toby Linderoth is the best tackler and ball winner of the midfield lot. Lee Carsley is best wide right in front of Tony Hibbert where his experience has brought Tony along in leaps and bounds. I haven’t seen too much of Kevin Kilbane and what I have seen indicates he’s a squad player for emergencies only. It remains to be seen how Scott Gemmill will perform if and when he gets back after prolonged absence. Wide left newcomer Jamie McFadden was nothing less than sensational in his first two games and then looked as though he had completely shot his bolt, but if he can get anywhere near his first standards he will be a tremendous buy. The midfield combination has suffered badly with the exit of Mark Pembridge’s free kicks and corners. Apparently none of the reserves are ready for a breakthrough.

The strike force looks formidable by any standard: Wayne Rooney, Kevin Campbell, Tom Radzinski and Duncan Ferguson. If they got any kind of quality service they would probably get a hat full between them. However, that’s a pipe dream. For the time being they have to make do with poor passing moves, long high balls which zoom over their heads or through their bouffant and scarce anybody to pick up a loose ball. Anything they achieve is in spite of circumstances and not because of them.

By and large formation stuff bores me shitless. Mostly, players at any club end up in the position best suited to them in the circumstances. We’re no different. We don’t have a large squad of top quality players. No amount of meddling with the nominal formation is going to alter that, and any attempt to think otherwise is mostly fruitless nonsense. The squad has already shown it is capable of better results than those achieved in the first quarter. One wonders if relative veteran age is beginning to affect the performance of older players. Certainly Moyesy’s body language has changed this season. He seems much more subdued than formerly. I hope this is only temporary. I hope he applies his obvious common sense and intelligence to the situation he is in. If he can’t find the same motor of self-motivation he and we are in for a difficult season. So are the players.

It is still possible for us to rescue the season and get into the top six. We are but a quarter of the way through the season. It’s all there to play for. The signs may be ominous but it isn’t something that couldn’t be corrected by three straight wins, a trick which always sends you zooming up the table. Last season we managed more than that and found ourselves with a nosebleed at fourth position. But the change must come quickly or we will stay rooted to midtable at best.

Sadly, it pains me to report something I thought was dead and buried, and which has recently again raised its ugly and loathsome head, and that is the barracking of Kevin Campbell. It comes of course on the back of recent poor form and results. Once again I had to explode at a bunch of hateful shaved-head scumbags, sat behind me, who kicked off against him at Villa Park. I can’t tell you how much I despise these racist motivated inadequate twats looking for a victim. And I tolerated it until after half time at which point it got to farcical levels as the umpteenth “pass” from midfield went screaming over everyone’s heads, including those in the Villa defence, and one of the earring-wearing gobshites again shouted something about Kevin being “lazy.” There’s that code word again, I thought. It goes without saying nobody else up front is dubbed “lazy” when something like this occurs. So the culprits were on the end of both my verbal barrels. At which they whimpered about “opinions” and then retreated into silence. If you’re one of them, or you share their racist views, I invite you to fuck off from our club as far as your cowardly legs can take you, preferably into the middle of the Atlantic and far away from rescue. You’re not wanted.

Fortunately our club has at last joined the Kick Racism Out Of Football campaign and will repeat on-field displays of the Southampton match, plus the broadcast words of David Moyes. It is belated but is as needed at our club as it is at every other club. Beware those who say we suffer more from it than anyone else. We don’t. People who make such claims have their own agenda. But we do have to recognise racism and face it down when it reappears, as it is bound to. Opposing the barrackers of Kevin Campbell is just one way of doing it. Last time I did it, I hoped I wouldn’t have to do it again because it largely spoils the match for me. You end up wondering why you bother when human nature goes so awry, when weak, cowardly and inadequate people have no other way of expressing themselves than to join in a jeering mob of loonies, some of whom, make no mistake, are BNP members. To hell with them.

During the week, Charlton and Scott Parker at home in the League Cup, and the Annual General Meeting. Chelsea at home on Saturday. If nothing else it should all be interesting.

Quotes

Alan Irvine says: “We would have taken a point this morning, on the back of the two results that we’ve had against Tottenham and Southampton . We came hoping for a very solid performance and I think that’s what we got. I don’t think that we were really in a great deal of trouble at any point during the game, having said that, I don’t think we caused Villa a great deal of trouble either.”

Sausage says: "How long is it since we scored?"

Kipper says: "About the amount of time it's been since you've got a round in."

Off The Ball

*Dunc had been booked for jumping up & heading the ball. Honest that's all he did. Moyesy wasn't very happy with it. He looked at D'Urso & jumped up as if he was heading a ball. Then put his arms up, as if to say "What the fuck is he supposed to do?"

*The face on Tommy Gravesen (who by the way had a terrible game, but give him is due he never hides) when the Everton crowd used every swear word going in his direction, when he tried to play Tony Hibbert a one two. The ball was over hit & it was in the last few minutes. The fans had had enough of him & the game. Tommy looked up at the crowd, astonished that they were having a go at him & gestured to the crowd that he was only trying to put Tony away.

Team News          Last Season's Game

Everton have a few injury doubts. Faddy(foot), Big Dunc(chest infection)& The Rad (calf strain) are a doubt. Defiantly out is Harry Hill(medial knee ligaments). Back in the squad is Stubbsey & The Birthday is back after suspension. Wrighty is set to battle it out with Big Nige for the goalie gloves.

Moyesy says: "We will have a look today in training. We will give Duncan and Tomasz Radzinski every chance of being fit. James McFadden had a foot injury and we will give him a chance. Alan Stubbs has trained for the last two days and seems fine. He is available. Richard Wright played in a reserve game in mid-week and we are not sure how his knee was. He will be assessed this morning. We hope he will be okay. Some of the lads have not trained as much as we would have liked. We need to look at them in training today."

Everton from: Martyn, Wright, Hibbert, Stubbs, Yobo, Weir, Radzinski, Watson, Li Tie, Naysmith, Rooney, Linderoth, Clarke, Jeffers, Kilbane, McFadden, Gravesen, Ferguson.

Lavington Spa's eleven to start: Martyn, Hibbert, Yobo, Weir, Naysmith, Gravesen, Rooney, McFadden, Watson, Ferguson, Radzinski.