“All this tippy tappy stuff is all a load of bollocks sometimes. Get the ball in the oppositions box as quickly as you can with quality.” – Sam Allardyce
“I know what our fans expect. They expect results but not only results. I want our fans to be proud when they see our team on the pitch” – Marco Silva
The Close Season. A time to relax, close our eyes, lay our heads on the cool porcelain, and flush the vomit away. A time to allow our stomach to settle. And today, a time to raise our head from said toilet bowl and allow a little smile.
Allardyce sacked. Along with Shakespeare, Lee, and Margetson. CEO Robert Elstone is also gone, and has been replaced by the highly thought of Denise Barrett-Baxendale. Steve Walsh, our Director of Football, is not anymore. Marcel Brands has come in, and is saying all the right things. Positivity tempered with reason.
And now… Marco Silva in. Our latest manager. Our latest crucial, must-not-fail appointment.
He’ll definitely make us look better, that’s for sure. All those sniffy critics, telling us what we should be happy with after a cursory glance at the table and 5 mins of Everton highlights every other week can pipe down. This season has been terrible, I gave up coming up with new ways to describe the clammy lifeless football that was presented to us Evertonians every week.
Estoril fan here. Be excited! You got a hungry and very talented young coach. Best football display I've ever seen at my club. You'll love. Marco is also a fantastic person. C'mon you blues! 💙 #COYB #EFC
— André Ferreira (@_andrecferreira) May 31, 2018
It was nauseating having to defend the fact (and it is a fact – the type that should be chiselled in stone, carefully written in constitutions, and tattooed on foreheads) that Sam Allardyce is not made for Everton.
Of course “neutrals” think we should be happy with this tripe. They don’t see 90minutes, they just watch highlights, or worse still glance at the table, and instantly see us amongst the comfy Sunday mid table drivers.
Live this every day though, and it becomes unbearable. Players loaned and scattered across Europe like defeated Jedi. The rest hiding in plain sight on the pitch. Tosun cut adrift like a phantom limb. Theo smiling, but really wondering what the hell he’s got himself into. Bolasie’s freeform breakdancing on the pitch. And Allardyce at the helm. You won’t get relegated, but you won’t have any fun either. Is that the extent of our aims?
It wasn’t fun viewing.
Goodbye cloven hoofball. Hello something else.
Time to stop driving the porcelain bus and let Marco take the wheel.