And so the last weekend before this season's 742nd international break, saw our final ever visit to Goodson Park. Traditionally until recent years, never a happy hunting ground for us, but a ground synonymous with football heritage.
It’s the latest in a long list of grounds never to be visited again. Showing signs of wear and tear, but evoking memories and with a character that no new stadium can ever evoke.
We’re all too aware of the upheaval, leaving spiritual homes can bring. Some like our horrible neighbours from the north of the capital, have it easy. Not for them, not only leaving familiar surroundings l, but having to adopt new routines.
Established routes, watering holes, habits and shortcuts get lost. Years of emotions. memories, laughs, tears, friendships formed, pints shared all consigned to history and rubble.
Everton fans really don’t know what’s coming. The club can learn from the failures and successes or migration to a new home, but nothing can prepare the boots on the ground for having to unlearn lifelong, ingrained muscle memory routines.
Bramley-Moore Dock looks great. A scenic riverside setting, but one that’s not used to, and is ill equipped to deal with 50,000 football supporters seeking to enjoy not only food and drink In warmth and comfort, but also easy passage to and from games.
Goodison, like the Boleyn Ground, Maine Road, Roker Park etc before it will linger in the heart and minds of football fans, but will sadly flicker into a distant memory. Luckily, because of the televisual era, a lot of memories that occur on the pitch will be preserved but the events that link the people who frequent it will eventually disappear.
And it’s what come to replace these iconic stadiums that is the concern.
In the wake of the Taylor Report, the new stadia that began to emerge were initially a cause of wonder. Huddersfield’s curved roofs, Bolton's unobstructed, enclosed stands all looked great. But the more that cropped up, the more identikit, soulless-by-numbers affairs emerged.
Barring cosmetic touches, and obvious location, your Wigans, Readings and Southamptons could be anyone's. No character, no real uniqueness and in many cases no infrastructure surrounding them which make the day out a heady mix of exciting, nervous and intoxicating.
Any fan of a certain age would have fond memories of away trips to grounds full of character, in locations where angels feared to tread. Journeys to out of town industrial estates just don’t match up.
Even the likes of Arsenal, still in virtually the same location don’t evoke the same experience. Highbury, its marble halls and like Goodison Park, Archibald Leitch-designed stands, just helped create a sense of something special. Swathes of bland concrete concourses in by numbers designed bowls just take away something special from the match day experience.
Yes facilities may be improved - no-one wants to go back to the toilets of pre-1992 for certain, but at what cost to football? For every unobstructed view and easy access to junk food there lies an empty-hearted fan yearning for what came before in terms of atmosphere.
Those clubs lucky enough for revamp current homes really don’t know how lucky they are. Retaking their roots, their routines, their bonds to not only the ground but the surrounding areas.
My last visit to Goodison broke a few hoodoos for me. Personal issues had denied me the joys of recent times.
My own record prior to Saturday was five visits, five defeats and a solitary goal. Even that wasn’t from open play. To see Tommy Soucek get us so close to a victory was as much a relief as it was frustrating to see it stolen from us at the end of the game.
A point deserved. A final visit to one of the iconic grounds in football. A final farewell to a place that had left my empty hearted on numerous occasions but always with a lasting impression.
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