(Not even) the best of the rest

The best

"It's a sign of how far we've come...' is one of new football's most irritating phrases. Kenny 'Kenny' Dalglish said it the other day in reference to drawing at home to a Manchester United XI.
Evertonians said it about us for a bit, but not now.
When we were the 'best of the rest' the underlying fear was, given the lack of dough, what would happen when we fell away. Now we're seeing it.
After the 2009 FA Cup final - this was straight after, in the pub - a pal said it would be the high water mark, and clearly he was right.
But less realistic members of Everton's super hunky support reckoned with just a few tweaks we could still do something.
Those tweaks were generally regarded as getting shut of Tony Hibbert and Leon Osman, widely regarded as being not quite good enough for the mythical 'next level' - in our case fourth.
Of the two, it's Osman's current standing which is interesting. A midfield which once seemed a little over-fed has now shed its two leading creative types - Steven Pienaar and that RAT Mikel Arteta - to leave Osman as arguably the main schemer.
Osman's a fine player, but has looked a bit lost of late, although it could be argued he's never really been that good in the big games.
Marouane Fellaini can be a brilliant player but he's been really off it this season, and he's clearly leaving, so we appear to be preparing to heap more pressure on Osman.
It's a sign of how far we've fallen that he's the creative mainstay of a team that, until quite recently, looked on the verge of doing something.
In fact you might say Osman has now become 'the best of the rest'. You see, kids. This is how the pros do it.

But what's the spread like - part 1

Stately

The new football season kicks off tomorrow, seemingly to nationwide shrugs. But no matter, it's the perfect time to rate the most important things any togger club can offer - the matchday facilities for those freeloading know-nothng weasels, the press.
I used to move at the runtish end of these fetid circles so here's a few gaffs I've sampled.
Remember they might have changed a lot since. Possibly they've replaced food with beatings, in these chastened times. I'll do the rest next week probably. If nothing else I'll tell you about Standard Liege.

Bolton Wanderers:
As you'd expect from a new-ish stadium, nice and clean. Good size press room, excellent view from the press box, friendly staff. Decent spread I think - can't really remember but I'm getting a strong pie vibe from memory. Stuart Hall let on to me as he was leaving, so any way you slice it I was the day's big winner.

AFC Bournemouth:
Small, tight ground with facilities to match. Staff were spot on, including the fella (I think this was Bournemouth anyway) who wrote all the copy for the programme, took the pictures, designed the pages and proofed them all. I think his wife had left him.
Also this was where I saw the fattest ever former player - worse than Alan Brazil. Can't remember his name but he was so big he had to sit in the aisle (on the stairs) as the seats were too modest for his stature. He was working for local radio I think.

Brighton & Hove Albion:
This was the Withdean and it was bizarre, but I really liked it. It felt more like being at the fair than the match. For those who don't know the Withdean is also a local sports facility, and while the match was going on there were some fellas having a game of squash inside the ground, under the stands I think.
There wasn't enough room in the press box for me (see above) so I watched the match with the home lads who do the tannoy annoucnements in this little hut. It was ace. Nice brew but can't remember the grub.

Charlton Athletic:
Oh the giddy days of the Premier League. Hot food and a nice brew before the match, sarnies at half time. Probably a scotch egg sliced three ways now with the South London Press man demanding first dibs.
Interesting variation on the press box at The Valley, which is an example of how you can re-do a ground but retain some of its character. It's actually the front row of the top deck of one of the stands. Works well and there are these tiny little tellies for you to watch replays on. Oh yes, for all the bellyaching you get in the press about referees missing things, you don't half hear a lot of 'who scored then?' in the trenches.
Only down side at Charlton is the press lounge is in a different bit to the box so you have to go outside and mingle - shudder - briefly with the public. Ghastly.

Chelsea:
Utterly sensational. Ace food, booze, big old press room. Not massive press box and it's low down on the same side as the dug-outs, but there are tellies and that.
Can't remember what the staff were like, I was there with someone else (who was working) so I just stuffed myself and boozed solidly.
But the overall impression was definitely of the big time. For all the bluster and the upsetting the squares with their vulgar money spending, there is a definite air about Chelsea. They belong where they are. Whether they can stay there when the money tree dries up remains to be seen, but the swagger is definitely, justifiably, there.

Colchester United:
They'd just built the stadium when I visited and hadn't even finished all the roads, so it's probably improved a lot since then, but my overall memory is one of traffic jams.
Once inside the ground is like a lot of the other new ones for clubs at that level - tidy. Can't remember anything else but it seemed to be very green.

Crewe Alexandra:
Brilliant. A proper old ground with the press box at the top of the stand you see when the train pulls in (that stand is much higher than it looks when you're climbing up it). Probably the best view of any press box I've been in.
No spread as such but you get a voucher for a pie and a cup of coffee which you pick up from the bit under the stand. That's right, you have to queue with the paying public.

Crystal Palace:
Ace. Utterly sensational pre-match music and a perspex screen at the front of the press box to keep you separated from the general.
Really good eggs working there - the sort of people that keep a lot of clubs running with their goodwill. Some clubs, in fact I reckon most to a degree, take this a little for granted, which is one reason people working in football that aren't players get paid so badly. If you're doing extra for free why would they pay you more? Especially when there are people waiting to take your job?
There seems to be a real spirit of union between those working for the clubs that I've never seen in any other field of work, which I think is born from the knowledge that they're all getting slightly mugged for the 'privilege' of working in football.
Anyway there's a nice spread of sarnies in this little room under the stand (same corner as where the players come in) and you get a brew. Ian Snodin came bounding over after I nodded at him - I think he thinks everyone who lets on is someone he's met in a pub.
Bit of a squeeze for the press conference - they have to redo the room for this, a bit like after the meal but before the 'do' at a wedding. Only with Iain Dowie instead of a bride and their press man as the already brow-beaten groom.

Everton:
Another corker here. Really friendly staff, nice little spread (pies, possibly sarnies I can't remember, tea) in a very small room under the Main Stand at stately Goodison Park.
Like their runtish upstart neighbours Liverpool, Everton's press box is small but functional - and why should they extend the free seats into the paying areas?
The view is exactly the same as any comparable bit of the ground in that there's always some of the match happening behind a colossal pillar, but it feels like a real stadium. One where great things have happened.
The press conferences are in the same room (again, this might have changed) where it's a bit of a squeeze but that adds to the feeling of it being, I felt, slightly more like a chat than a staged event. Quality.

Last night's nerd togger - a new dawn

My vanquished opponent

Friends, come gather for the future is here. It is bold, it is fearless, it transcends the physical and ethereal worlds. It stands firm, chest out, and defies resistance. All hail my new 3-5-2 nerd togger formation.
There are some issues - Howard is still occasionally awful - but the overall effect is ace.
But the problem of Everton's lumbering attacking moves is no more - where once there was Cahill stood in the middle waiting for Fellaini to amble along, now there are players zooming everywhere. Overlaps, diagonal runs, defenders left flailing - it's all here.
Remember United battering Norwich at Carrow Road in about 92? It's like that.
The line up is: Howard. Back three of (right to left) Heitinga, Jerjelka, Distain. Rodwell and Fellaini in the middle. Arteta on the right with Baines on the left, then Cahill behind Saha (left) and Beckford. The former Leeds man misses as many as he scores (at least) but he is murder to knock off the ball, and he is quick - a novelty for Everton, nerd or real.
The beauty of this formation is you always have bodies in the attacking half, while the three at the back are reasonably solid.
Fellaini and Rodwell are always available for a pass while in possession and also make it difficult for opposition nerd troops to get through the middle.
I've actually tweaked it a touch from the 3-5-2 in the formations list but I can't remember what I did - possibly pushing Cahill a bit further forward. You getting this, ladies?
I've sacrificed some possession - with 4-5-1 I was having all the ball but not scoring - but it's worth it for the increased number of scoring chances. A key point as the nerd Toffees miss an awful lot.
Possible the best thing is Baines - playing this far forward he can get some ace crosses in. He's also quick enough to get back and defend.
Arteta is still a problem and he's there mainly for free kicks, but Heitinga is just behind when the nerd Spaniard is shrugged aside by some nameless Spurs oik.
Does this formation really work? Put it this way, against nerd Liverpool I now expect to win, whereas before I had half a chance. I think I've lost once against them since playing this way. It works against most teams but Chelsea are trickier, I often revert to 4-3-1-2 for them.
In the last few days - yes, this is a scientific study - I have stuffed Liverpool (several times), Bayern Munich, Roma, Lazio, Marseille, PSG, Spurs, Villa, Arsenal, City and more. All with 3-5-2 for at least a third of the game - a good nerder knows one must occasionally tweak to counter events in play.
So there it is my fellow tough guys who have no trouble talking to girls - this is my gift to you. Cherish it, tweak it, enjoy it. To the nerdmobile!

Last night's nerd togger - bastard bollocks crap

The nerd council

Don't lose thy cool - the first rule of nerding. I smashed it to smithereens last night as I swore and snarled my way through four straight defeats.

After a run of one loss in seven I moved up a level, only to lose the next four. 

Clearly I reached the top of my nerd bounce and am now condemned to bump along at the bottom of the stinking cesspit that is online nerding. O! Take me back level 21! But alas, it doesn't work that way. It's like the Mafia, we all know when we join that the only way out is death.

They were all close games, and all as Everton, but then the unbeaten run were all close too. 

By the end of the last one I was a croaking, teary, sweary shambles. Yelping and gesticulating pathetically at the screen as Arteta got brushed off the ball yet again. He's only in there for the free kicks, at which he's ace. The rest - ABJECT SHIT.

I've tweaked my nerd Everton to read thus (4-5-1): Howard, who is awful, then in defence (from right) Neville, Jerjelka, Distain, Baines. Midfield: Arteta, Fellaini, Rodwell, Guaye (or Coleman), then Cahill just behind Saha. This can switch to 4-3-1-2 with Beckford up front and Guaye dropping out, with Cahill behind the front two. Ye gods, even in nerd-chat that is a nerdy thing to write.

Anyway after narrowly losing to Manchester United, Manchester City and Chelsea I was up against nerd Liverpool, who I pulverised. But nerd Everton's lack of firepower, combined with Howard's unerring ability to let shots go straight through him, meant a 1-0 defeat, courtesy of a 90th-minute spawner from one of those anonymous little shits they stuff their wretched team with. 

Seconds later Mrs Biff Mercifully came home from work, so I pulled the plug - no stats for you, nerd Liverpool! You too Dalglish, you wanker. I know you're reading this.

Up for t'cup

Wembley! 

I've not done many Ev-related posts on here, which you may have seen was in the Guardian's top 20 most influential blogs the other week (at number 9,000,006). But stuff it, here's one.
One of the surprises of Saturday's FA Cup win at Chelsea, aside from me shouting 'FUCKING YES!' in the bar at London's swanky Ivy restaurant when Leighton Baines equalised (a diary error prevented me from attending both, and grub's always going to win out over football these days), is the lack of noise from Everton's notoriously media-shy owner Bill Kenwright.
I might have missed it but I haven't seen anything of him, which is unusual following a notable Everton win. Perhaps he's just mindful that, to many, the overall Everton curve is still trundling down.
Unless there's dough to spend, even a cup final win probably won't be enough to keep David Moyes at Goodison now - if anything it would strengthen his hand with future employers. All very depressing.
Anyway the point of all this? We'll fuck up against Reading just as we're all getting carried away. And you know why? Because that's what we do. So here in no particular order are five memorable fuck ups in a little feature I like to call:

Five-we-did-the-hard-part-then-ballsed-it-up-next-round Everton defeats of recent vintage


1: Lost 2-1 v West Ham United (FA Cup 6 round, 11/3/91)
This of course coming after we beat Liverpool 1-0 (Dave Watson) in the second replay. The first replay was the 4-4 at Goodison - a game remembered as the one where I foolishly wore a new pair of jeans which hadn't nearly been broken in enough so I spent a fair amount of it whimpering to myself in discomfort.
I think the first game at Anfield was the one where Pat Nevin was denied a clear penalty at the Anfield Road end. It might not have been - do your own checking, lazy-arse.
From memory - I watched this in the Fusilier in Prescot with a lot of angry Evertonians (was it on Sky or maybe the mythical 'Norwegian'?) - we were just shit. Goals from Colin Foster and Stuart Slater (I mean, come on) put West Ham, who I think were in the I Zingari that season, through to a semi against Nottingham fucking Forest who beat them 4-0 before losing the final 2-1 to Spurs.

2: Lost 2-1 v Aston Villa, FA Cup 6 round, 20/2/2000
It wasn't so much that we'd done the hard work before this one - Exeter, Birmingham and Preston were our earlier opponents - as much as what lay ahead that marked this out as a fuck up.
If we'd have got through this we'd have faced either Newcastle, Bolton or pre-Ambramovic (but still a good side) Chelsea in the semis.
I was living in New York at the time and there were a few blues used to go in this bar on Queen's Boulevard (Flynn's, run by two Evertonian brothers) and all the talk was of flying back for the cup final if we got there - really doing it in style: champagne, limos, the whole schmere.
Got beat 2-1 in an appalling performance. Villa beat Bolton in the semi before rolling over against Chelsea.

3: Lost 1-0 v Liverpool, fifth round, 21/2/88
I seem to have blocked this one from my memory but it came after the titanic struggle against the mighty Middlesbrough, where a Tony Mowbray oggy eventually put Everton through against - I dunno, div two? - opposition in the second replay.
Trevor Steven equalised in injury time in extra time in the first replay - the latest goal I can remember us scoring - at Ayresome Park, after the initial 1-1 draw at Goodison. What an oddly-constructed sentence.
Anyway I have no idea what happened but we got beat and Liverpool slithered through to the last eight where they were joined by: Luton, Portsmouth, Manchester City, Watford, Arsenal, Nottingham Forest, Garston Woodcutters, and me and my mum. Liverpool went on to stuff City 4-0 in the quarters, then beat Forest in the semis before playing Wimbledon in the final. Ha!

4: Drew 1-1 (out on pens) v Sunderland, League Cup 5th round, 11/11/98 
Heady days for Evertonians these and I must confess I have no memory of this game either but it's all there on wikipedia so must be true.
After shrugging aside Huddersfield and Middlesbrough an Everton squad boasting John O Kane and Peter Degn in its ranks drew 1-1 with Sunderland before going out on pens.
Sunderland went on to face Luton Town in the quarters before being knocked out by Leicester City 3-2 over two legs (Tony Cottee got all three) in the semis.
The last eight that year was: Sunderland, Luton, Wimbledon, Chelsea,  Leicester, Blackburn, Spurs and Manchester United. Spurs beat Leicester, managed by that jumpity little prick Martin O'Neill I think, 1-0 in the final.

5: Lost 3-2 v Bradford City, FA Cup 4th round, 25/1/97
Fuck me as shit goes this was real base level crud - and it's to Everton's credit that in a time of unmitigated awfulness they could still manage some remarkable performances.
Everton were terrible in a game that saw Andrei Kanchelskis hand in his notice on the pitch. Three goals in 10 minutes for City did the damage, including a Chris Waddle lob from the halfway line.
Gary Speed got one in the 90th minute (Andy O'Brien's oggy was Everton's other) and, typically, Everton made a great chance right at the death as the ball was moved out wide to Duncan Ferguson who, seemingly in slow motion, missed. Or the keeper saved - who the fuck cares? The picture's hopeless here but the commentary is ace (Waddle's goal is 1min 43 sec in - superb stuff).
City went on to a home fifth round tie with Sheffield Wednesday, who beat them 1-0. The teams in the quarters that year were: Chesterfield (who were famously robbed in the semi against Boro), Wrexham, Portsmouth, Chelsea, Sheffield Wednesday, Wimbledon, Derby County and Middlesbrough. Chelsea beat Boro 2-0 in the final.

Still, you can't beat a cup match can you - especially at night.

Alan Nixon says so 8/1/11 - 14/1/11

You can hang your hat on this

This week's Alan Nixon round up of players and managers who, his tireless research informs him, are on the move. From the Mirror/People (they seem to put their stuff on the Mirror site): David Wheater (Middlesbrough) to Bolton Wanderers for £2.25m, but Nicko later reckons the fee's a stumbling block. What insight! 
Stephen Pienaar (Everton) is off to Spurs with Robbie Keane coming the other way 'if Spurs pay some of his wages', which must be tempting for them.
Avram Grant to become Chelsea's director of football if he gets the boot from West Ham United.  
Shane Lowry (Aston Villa) is off to Charlton on loan for the rest of the season. Manchester United are planning a 'double raid' on the north east with Sunderland ­midfielder Jordan Henderson and Newcastle full-back Jose Enrique both gagging to join Fergie's band of referee-baiting gobshites (joint byline with Alan Oliver).
Charlie Adam (Blackpool) is the subject of a three-club 'bidding war', with Birmingham, Sunderland and Blackburn the dizzying possibilities for the man with the demob haircut. Blackburn are also after Villa pair Stephen Warnock and James Collins in a swap for 'unsettled Steve Kemba', sorry I just made a player up there, Chris Samba.
Nicko also warns 'Rovers will have to move fast if they want to snap up 16-year-old Crewe teenager Nick Powell, as the England youth striker is also interesting Arsenal'. Make haste, Blackburn! And Blackpool will apparently be signing Southampton winger Jason Puncheon, currently on loan at Millwall, for £200,000.
Liverpool have signed Jason Banton from Blackburn, he says. Others say he's on trial at Anfield. Yet more Rovers news: 'Blackburn boss Steve Kean has won the race for Birmingham winger Sebastian Larsson - but is willing to wait until summer to clinch the deal.' Course he is, Alan!
Burnley are still after Bournemouth boss Eddie Howe and are offering a cool £500,000 plus bonuses! And lastly there was a google link under 'Alan Nixon' which says 'My porn pal - hide my ass!' but I didn't click that as I'm at work.

Alan Nixon says so, 25/12/10 to 31/12/10

swoop

A quick round up of the made up bullshit of everyone's favourite tabloid chubster. For those new to Nixon watch, we round up all the fat prick's transfer 'scoops' and manager moves then, when the transfer window closes, we'll see how many the turd actually gets right. 
These are only the ones I've seen so if I've missed any please add in comments below. On with the show - you'll notice virtually all his shite goes in two papers.
From the Mirror: Sam Allardyce to be the next Burnley manager (joint byline with David Anderson). Owen Coyle (Bolton) 'to one of English football`s major powers'. Nixon mentions Liverpool.
Eidur Gudjohnsen (Stoke) wants out, to anywhere. Stephen Ireland and Richard Dunne (Aston Villa) to Celtic (probably loans). Also Villa-bound in Alan world will be Blackburn's Chris Samba (super) for a cool £6m-plus. 
Wayne Bridge from Manchester City to West Ham (loan or full transfer) where he'll be joined by 'Hoffenheim’s £6million-rated Senegal striker Demba Ba'. 
David Luiz (Benfica) to Chelsea or City for £35m. Kevin Wilson (Forest) to Celtic. Apparently he's due to sign a pre contract to join for nowt in summer but Celtic want him now dammit.
From the People: Steve 'Roy's' Kean (Blackburn) to 'swoop' for Barcelona's Oriol Romeu, but he faces a battle (!) with Villa. They should nipple it out, Houllier and Kean, live on Sky. Bare chested, hands tied behind backs, no butting aloud - all you've got is your nipples. Also 'another Barcelona youngster, Sergio Roberto, is wanted by Chelsea'. Course he is, dickhead. Elsewhere Leicester want Emile Heskey on loan from Villa but he only wants a permanent move. 
Doncaster manager 'Sean O'Driscoll will snub Sheffield United – because he is the red-hot favourite to step in at Nottingham Forest.' In place of Billy Davies and his sword that spits fire. Meanwhile Neil Sullivan - who is well hunky (my opinion, not Nixon's, as far as I know) could be the new Doncaster boss.

Alan Nixon says so, 19/12/10 - 24/12/10

Rate increase

Week two of bollocks watch with fatty Nixon and it's more plausible well-researched stuff. Starting in the People: Daniel Sturridge from Chelsea to Liverpool (initial loan then maybe a £5m deal). Jay Bothroyd (Cardiff) will fill Sturridge's place on the Chelsea bench. Zolton Gera from Fulham to Wolfsburg (joint byline with Dave Kidd). Ivan Rakitic (Schalke) to Fulham on a free in the summer.
The Mirror: Blackpool's Charlie Adam to Blackburn Rovers (who could name Steve Kean as manager). Stoke City are also interested in Adam.
Steve Sidwell (Villa) to West Ham. Steven Ireland also leaving Villa for a loan spell at Celtic. Dieumerci Mbokani from Monaco to West Ham.
Not transfer shite but Nixon also has England as ready to step in and host the 2014 World Cup if those useless foreigners Brazil can't manage it. 
Nixon is also worried that a rate increase isn't enough to make a good start on saving for a new sewage treatment plant and new solid waste facilities in Vancouver. Although that might be a different Alan Nixon.

Diary of a squad player, part 8

Waxy

Thursday, 9 December
It was the club's chrimbo do last night - that's 'normal' staff, the players have our own - but the boss made us all go! It was a nightmare. You should see how some of them dress - like they've been given the keys to TK Maxx.
They had it laid out so there were three of us on each table, with about eight of 'them'. Me, Mucker and Johnno were together but they spread us out so we had to mix with the staff. I got stuck between the woman from payroll and a lad who works in the ticket office. I had Julie from reception opposite me - the mouth on her.
To be fair once I'd had a few drinks it wasn't too bad. They're nice enough people but they're so different to us. Talking to the lad from the ticket office - Tony, I think - he was saying how he's just finished university and is looking for a 'proper' job. He's got an interview for somewhere or other next week. I've never had a job interview - he couldn't believe it when I told him. The only reason I own a suit is the club supply us with them for matchdays.
We only had to stay until the meal ended so we chucked them a round in and got a taxi home as soon as we could. The boss never showed.


Friday, 10 December
Day off so stayed in bed. Watched Ghostbusters II on telly. Had the best hangover wank ever. Thank you, a young Sigourney Weaver.


Saturday, 11 December
Wasn't in the squad so I’ll probably be playing for the stiffs on Monday. It’s shit because we play in the afternoon in midweek so there’s absolutely no one watching. At least if it’s a night game like at some clubs you get a few faces in. You can hear each other fart when we play. 
If you're not in the first-team matchday squad you still have to come to the match and watch it. We drew 1-1 and it was fucking grim. No one stays for the whole match - I left with about 20 minutes to go.
Watched the X-Factor. Didn't vote. Still fuming at Mary 'feel the' Byrne getting binned - an absolute fucking scandal.


Sunday, 12 December
Had a call from me agent. Reckons there's a couple of clubs interested. Meeting him tomorrow but unless they're paying big money I can't be arsed moving. I've still not unpacked all me stuff from last time. Got a whole box of watches just sitting there. 
Watched Spurs v Chelsea on the telly. Good game but Glenn Hoddle looks like he's got a disease that turns skin to wax. A disease no one else has ever had so they have to name it after him.


Previously:
Part 7
Part 6
Part 5
Part 4
Part 3 
Part 2
Part 1

Last night's nerd togger - middle ground

The real (!) Estadio Santiago Bernabeu

Two wins, two defeats. Leaving me with five more defeats than wins - a record I will never break as I'm not quite good enough to get to the next level, so I'll keep bumping along like this. 
It's quite sobering to realise I've peaked at a pretty poor level of a game played on a toy by kids who are going to all get much better than me because they learn how to do all the flicks and that. 
I'm waving them on to better things, like Withnail in that horrendous film which people who want to appear cleverer than they really are say is their favourite film, even though it isn't actually funny and they nearly wet themselves watching Trains, Planes and Automobiles. 
Anyway the two defeats were close, (City 1-2 Chelsea, Everton 0-1 Arsenal), but then a couple of rip-snorting wins, first Everton went two up in 20 minutes to Villa before my opponent pulled the plug, incurring my customary 'ha ha ha' message - no exclamation, I'm not an animal. 
Up next the nitwit I was playing went Real Madrid so I plumped for Barcelona. With 10 minutes gone his keeper passes it out short, but David Villa nips in and smashes in a shot. It's saved but comes back to Villa who hits the bar with his next effort. Just as I was about to bellow some major language at the telly Villa prods home.
Then my opponent appears to stop playing so I just pass it round at the back. A message comes in saying, 'I don't like the shirts,' - what existential mind games are afoot? But then he hits back and tries to make a game of it - to no avail. I triumph 1-0 but best of all I could hear his every foul-mouthed splutter as nerd Barca eased through his nerd Real like a hot blade through a trapped, whimpering pug. 


Previously:
A day of days

Up yours, Spurs and Bayern

Fridge

A right royal bumming

A grim tale

Have that Fritz

No name

It begins

Everton trundling towards... what?

Hi, I'm Mikel Arteta!

What the crud is wrong with David Moyes? Admittedly a few cold drinks had been enjoyed but I couldn't see why it took so long to hook Louis Saha and the inflato-head-Plug-from-the-Beano Johnny Heitinga. And Cash money Mikel Arteta for that matter, who looks slower and weaker with every game.
Everton started well with Tim Cahill - what the fart are we going to do when he pisses off with Australia for six weeks? - heading in a Leighton Baines cross. Those two, along with Seamus Coleman were probably the only two to really cut it last night - Christ knows why Moyes took Coleman off. But they just seemed to fall further back until Sunderland equalised. After that it could have gone either way but was it really a surprise when Sunderland went ahead? And don't their supporters get excited about the slightest thing? As soon as the ball went in our half they were shrieking like those tracksuited women who camp outside paedo trials (that's court cases, not try-outs for would be nonces).
There's something wrong with Everton this season and it's not the slow start thing, not after 14 games. They look slow generally, like they're playing too soon after having their dinner. Even at Brentford, after a good start, we fell away horribly. The derby performance was excellent and more like the fast pace we're used to, but that was against arguably the worst team Everton have played this season.
We're level on points with West Brom - up next at Goodison - and then it's Chelsea away, and you know what will happen there. Fifty quid in and BEND OVER. This season is in danger of disappearing into nothingness before it's really got started. And it isn't a 'sign of how far we've come' that a top-10 finish (ie 10th) is a disappointment. It's shite. Of course a couple of wins and we're laughing but yet more draws, or defeats, puts an awful lot of pressure on for a good FA Cup run.

City - what's the problem?

New money - urgh

I only had half an eye on last night's match and Fulham are pretty accommodating opponents but there didn't look a lot wrong with Manchester City as they shrugged the Cottagers aside 4-1. The amount of shite they get in the papers, on the radio, the internet and, well everywhere really, just seems out of proportion. I can't actually see what they're doing wrong - and I detest new football. They're doing it at a faster rate and from further behind than Chelsea were, but what's the difference? Chelsea got stick when Roman Abramovich started lashing it about, but it never seemed this gleeful and vicious.
From what little I've seen of them this season City play some decent stuff, and the fact is they're fourth in the league, three points behind Chelsea, who they beat recently. So it's not all bad.
The game at the top level is truly fucked when that bastion of corporate cock-sucking Manchester United PL Fucking C is seen as the good guy, valiantly battling against the odds to take on the ghastliness of their cross-City neighbours. Witness the reporting of the recent Manchester derby.
As well as United's new image as the Tiny Tim of Europe, a weird sidebar to City's emergence is the re-branding of Chelsea, who seem to represent proper 'old money' now. Chelsea with their horrible nobhead supporters can win all they like but they're a div two team to me, always will be. Micky fucking Droy and that lot (did he play for them in div two? Either way they were shite.)
I'm not saying I like City, I don't, although I don't mind them, but I think the anger they generate shows the inherently conservative nature of some football supporters. Secretly they liked the 'top four' Champions League cabal with the same four clubs draining the life out of the division, leaving a succession of 'dead rubbers' for the teams above 14th once it gets to March.
Isn't it good that there's a club shaking things up a bit - that actually has the others looking over their shoulders? That can stand there, shooting round after round in to the still-twitching corpse of Liverpool, just for the hell of it? We don't have to like the idea of players getting £200k a week, but that horse has long bolted, so what's the point of whining about it? They're all shitheads and that's it. Witness the half-arsed booing/cheering of Wayne Rooney at Old Trafford on Saturday. It will be great to see United supporters crawling to a player who basically wanted to leave them, for City. For that alone City and their blunderbuss spending should be applauded.

Last night's nerd togger - language, failure and festering fridges

Floating Frank

First up a tonking for me as nerd Chelsea at the hands of nerd Manchester United. It sticks in the throat of some nerd purists for an Evertonian to play as Chelsea but sometimes it's about getting the result. That didn't work this time and I was pure shite.
My opponent asked for a rematch and like a fool I said yes - never do this if you've just got beaten because your nerd dander is too up to guarantee success and you end up fouling everything that moves while screaming even worse things at the screen. (Example: 'Fucking arse your dad up the cunt, you cunt.' And no one likes to hear that.)
This time though he went nerd Liverpool and I went nerd Everton. Torres put the wanker one up but goals either side of half time from Saha and Arteta put me ahead only for that gobshite wanker poncey little shitstain cuntbucket Torres to equalise. I declined another rematch as I had to go the shops. 
On my return and after I'd put the shopping away and cleaned the fridge out - properly this time - in an attempt to get rid of the smell which has the poor bemused appliance in its grip I had another go. Again as nerd Everton only this time some punk ass kid goes nerd Vitesse Arnhem, a team ranked a full star lower than the nerd Toffees.
Now if you're going to do this - play as a crap team - you better bring your game or prepare for the nerd beat down. Because no matter how good you (think you) are the players are that bit slower and weedier so it's mainly a matter of keeping the ball and being patient. Which I did to ease my foe aside 3-1 (Saha, Cahill, Yakubu) after Grant Lederhosen had put them one up.
The fridge still smells though. It is most perplexing.

Previously:
A right royal bumming
A grim tale
Have that Fritz
No name
It begins

Last night's nerd togger - have that Fritz!

Twinkletoes 

First up was a 1-1 draw as nerd Everton v nerd Liverpool. Notable for nought except my increasingly excessive, aggressive and, it must be said, inventive swearing as my players seemed to run slower and slower as the game ground on. Not sure if it's just that my opponents are better, having reached the giddy heights of level 14, but their players seem quicker to the ball than my lot, who stand their waiting for it - especially Yakubu. I've put Rodwell at right back to add a bit of zip but to no avail. Next up a defeat to nerd Chelsea as nerd City (City are my alternate team at the mo, or Chelsea). I got absolutely battered and the worse it got the more I'd physically move the controller in the direction I wanted to go, like it's a Nintendo Wii or an errant child on a lead. This was followed by another turn as nerd City and this time it was nerd Bayern Munich in our way. I was getting absolutely walloped so switched to a five man midfield to try and stem the tide and grind out a draw as their tippy tappy twinkletoes gobshites Robben and Frankenstein tried to dance their way through to goal.  The whole game seemed to be played in and around my area then, in the 89th minute, Lescott finds Silva who skips round his marker and makes for the byline leaving nerd defenders trailing. He whips the ball in and there arriving at the near post is Ballotelli who heads home to send the home crowd (me in my undies) wild. I may have dropped to my knees and double v-d the telly at this point.  Bayern, nine shots, eight on target. City, one shot, one on target. I declined the rematch and repaired to bed. Apropos of nowt, but I don't like having my testicles touched. Certainly not in, say, the supermarket, but also during sexual interplay. This may seem an odd thing to add here but is there ever a good time to bring it up? (Incidentally, if you can offer any help as to why the other lot are always quicker than me please do. Nerd togger, not the other thing.)