Ibiza Summer 1981 was out there with a mate at the time. One night bumped into a lad i went to school with,who happened to be with a certain Dave Watson. They were all from the Vauxhall district of Liverpool. Anyway during the course of this hedonistic Isle's entertainment we all ended up in this club "The Star Club" and carried on doing what you do when your off the leash and discipline is a rare possession. After a few hours of consuming the ridiculous drink offers of all you can drink for five pesatas with a Star Club T-Shirt thrown in, we all decided to make our way back to our respective hotels. I gather if my memory serves correct there was around six of us hitting the dusty gravel infested road that my Adidas Samba was up in arms about. Some 5-10 minutes during our trek away from the club this humungous flash car appeared behind us and was beeping his way into the Guinness Book Of Records. To be fair to the proprietor of this decadence on wheels we as a group were walking spread out across the road and was hindering this persons attempt to get to where he wanted to get to. Well one of our party took exception to the beeping and gesticulating from the excitable behind the wheel and refused to make way. The brakes slammed on, the door opened and out appeared this what seemed a Spanish well connected sort of guy. A cross between an obese Englebert Humperdink and Lou Ferringo (you know that fella who went a shade of green). So he decided to head straight towards our more stubborn shall we say member of our party. As this resident of the Balearic Islands approached muttering in his mother tongue and the closer he got you got the impression you could actually hire a bike and spend half a day exploring him. This hombre was massive in his velvet suit and a tie so wide you could take it to the tailors and get another suit made from it. Dawn was breaking and possibly some ones neck as well. Our Spanish amigo quickly found out that what ever reputation he had and we didn't know about, was immediately dispatched back to his cars glove compartment, because our scouse mate let him know he meant business and it would take a seriously bad bout of gastric stomach to shift him. The complexion and body language of the irate driver was now more akin to one of those poor abused donkeys that are laden down with all things souvenir pottery. Not a punch was thrown, just a stare and a stance. Englebert you got off lightly as Dave Watson was bound for greater victories.

Definitely in the top 3 for players we've had in the prem,if not the best.

to think we were gutted when mountfield went and waggy came ! legend and only richard gough has come anywhere near since for me !

legend! his children are into the sport with the egg shaped ball! shame! they could off been future everton legends just like their daddy!

Waggy Legend.....has he got a son?

As a season Tkt holder from the age of 7. Now in my 40s. In my opinion on a par with big Nev as the best blue I have seen grace Goodison Park.