In this article I will discuss, Everton, Spurs, Brexit, turnips, the Matrix, our magnificent stadium with a nod to the Liverpool docks.
Beaten at our new home for the first time, where to start? Not with Micky Van De Ven and certainly not with the referee Craig Pawson. Let’s start with Ricky Villa and Osvaldo Ardilles. Maybe you’ve not heard of either, but without Ricky and Ossie there’s probably no Micky Van De Ven and no Daniel Amokachi.
From 1931 to 1978 foreigners were banned from playing in English football. A ruling from Europe changed it and Spurs were straight out of the blocks to sign two world cup winners just weeks after they won the World Cup with Argentina. Imagine. Ricky Villa went on to win Spurs the FA Cup in 1981 and both Ricky and Ossie remain Spurs legends. Tottenham Hotspur led the way, but the entire English football ecosystem thrived thereafter and by that, I mean, pitches, stadiums, coaches, players, and the product that is English football all improved which directly led to the current domination of English clubs across Europe. It did not happen overnight, but if ever there was a counter argument to the narrow isolationist thought process of the Brexiteers, this is it. Farage and Co. would bring you 47 years of muddy pitches, wooden stadiums, average coaches, and declining attendances.
October in Liverpool. The River Mersey meandering under a pewter sky. Hats, raincoats and layers. Spurs are in town.
Like it or not Spurs are a good comparator club for Everton. Both are steeped in English football tradition, our nine league titles versus their eight FA cups. Both passionate loyal fan bases. ‘Spirit of the Blues’ versus ‘Get it on.’ (Marc Boland, T-Rex). They have always been that bit stylish and edgy and not particularly wholesome. After the 1978 World Cup we signed Mickey Walsh and Colin Todd. Wholesome.
Despite the weather the stadium is still magnificent. I had both my boys with me (9 and 11) and so we got to the stadium ridiculously early. Being in the upper NW corner and with time on our hands, we decided to find the second-floor sensory room. Like Pokémon Go but without Pokémon. We went on an adventure, we came up empty handed. It cost me a Pepsi Max and a Seven-Up. I did, however, discover that the windowless northwest corner is the poor cousin of the glamorous architectural river facing glass and steel façade of the south stand. Duely noted.
Back in 1995 we played Spurs in the FA Cup semi final. Daniel Amokachi, substituted himself onto the pitch without the manger’s knowledge, scored two goals, and we went on to win the FA Cup. Unscripted beauty. Football is not what it was in those days and Spurs manger Thomas Frank has embraced this new world of disciplined pragmatism. Systems over flair. Two set piece goals to control the game. ‘Champions of Europe, we know who we are’ the Spurs fans sang. I used to know who they were. A bit Spursy. Not any more.
Everton is a work in progress. Thoughts from today include how Jack (calves like turnips) and Ilyman (the matrix) would be much more effective with the support of overlapping full backs, how Alcarez might trump Kiernan, how short we are up front, how my 9 year old was very unhappy with the referee Craig Paulson and ultimately how, right now, we need most things to go for us in a game to get over the line. Today was not that day.
It’s October on the Liverpool Docks. Red bricks. The ghosts of lost trades. Lost points. Better days are coming. #UTFT
@danielmac1.bsky.social