People don’t usually like change. Sometimes it’s necessary, sometimes it is unavoidable, and occasionally it is so wrong headed and myopic that it beggars belief. The new Everton badge, fresh from the Comic Sans addled brain of some marketing whelp, tumbles into the latter category.

For me it isn’t about the fact that our Nil Satis… motto has been removed – in fact I used to think that its removal was quite a good idea. Nor is it about the removal of the wreaths. It is because it looks terrible. It isn’t a symbol of the School of Science, of the Mersey Millionaires, of a blue family that includes Cresswell, Sagar, Lawton, Dean, Southall, Ball, Kendall, Harvey and many many others. It is a symbol of a blind, deaf and dumb administration. Blind to what a dramatic step down this badge is from past iterations. Deaf to the clamour of disgust when this badge leaked on social media. And dumb. Utterly, supremely thick. Exhibiting the kind of brain-dead decision making usually only seen in the comatose.

Some will say that there is too much furore over such a small thing as a badge. But this is the thin end of the wedge. If the club cannot listen to wave after wave of complaint crashing against this mephitic badge design, then how can we expect them to listen to us with regards to our next manager. By allowing such an atrocious badge to be associated with Everton the club suits are proving that they are a collective of King Canutes. Telling the waves and grumbles to simply turn around. Shooing criticism away or sweeping it under the carpet, rather than listening.

Everton Football Club actually had the temerity to claim that this badge was borne from an “extensive consultation process with fans”, proving that they are as adept as weaving lies as designing club crests:

Everton has introduced the next evolution of its Club Crest today.

The new, more modern, cleaner and dynamic design has been created following an extensive consultation process with fans, supporters’ groups and branding experts.

Evolution? Dynamic?

Dixie Dean and Charles Darwin are spinning in their graves like rotisserie chickens tonight.

He gave us our pride back after years in the gutter.

Tim Cahill. He bought Tim Cahill.

He got us into the top four – qualifying for the Champions League with a little fancied team. Ten teams outspent us that season.

OK, I’ll give you the Tim Cahill signing, and getting us into the top four.

And consistent top 6 finishes, outside the monied elite we are the best team in the land.

Obviously the consistent top 6 finishes! But aside from Tim Cahill, the top 4 finish, and consistent top 6 finishes, what has Moyes ever done for us?

Signed Seamus Coleman for just £60,000 – a player with blistering pace, bravery, and huge potential. At the VERY least he is now worth 100
times more than the initial transfer fee now

Our work ethic

Yeah, the Moyes teams have a great work ethic. We’ll miss that when he’s gone

And what about his ridiculously low net spend?

And turning Goodison into a fortress

Don’t forget his victory against the money drenched Man City, with Tony Hibbert playing out of position at centre half!

And his other great and cheap signings – Baines, Jagielka, Lescott, Gibson, Mirallas, Jelavić, Pienaar, Distin, Neville….

But apart from giving us our pride back, Tim Cahill, getting us into the top 4, consistent top 6 finishes, our great work ethic, his ridiculously low net spend, Fortress Goodison, beating Man City with Tony Hibbert at centre half, and his other great and cheap signings – Baines, Jagielka, Lescott, Gibson, Mirallas, Jelavić, Pienaar, Distin, Neville…WHAT HAS DAVID MOYES EVER DONE FOR US???

It’s axiomatic that in cricket, as in life, the batsman is finally and inescapably ‘out’, just as in football, managers and players are always fired or sold. As David Moyes said most managers are ushered out of the back-door, without fanfare, never to be seen again. Opportunities to properly express gratitude and thanks and achieve closure are rare indeed. Those of us who remember how that great Evertonian Alan Ball left the club well remember the emptiness of his departure, the shock of his sudden sale; no chance then to say goodbye, while his achievements were still fresh in the collective memory. Sadly it was only after his death that Goodison was able properly to show its feelings. So it was a unique experience on Sunday to be able to say ‘thank you’ to David Moyes and his apostles – Phil Neville and Tim Cahill, men who helped lead the reformation of Everton from relegation strugglers to a consistent top six side: A team capable of scoring the goal which disordered the Park End net after six minutes, the product of a complex, incisive, stylish move. The Moyes era reaching its apogee and its end in the same instant.

The recognition and thanks for what he has built, through devotion and hard work, poured down from all four sides of Goodison after the game.  A tumultuous reception. Forget the inane ramblings of a tiny minority, voices amplified by the megaphone of social media and the web. Their views have been put in context by a certain Glaswegian septuagenarian who has anointed Moyes his chosen successor at the world’s biggest club. Sad to say but those very same voices, will undoubtedly be the first to condemn the new manager, almost irrespective of outcome; unreasoning and unreasonable.

As for the match. Only two West Ham players hadn’t read the script; Jussi Jaasskelainen and the unfashionable James Collins performing heroics to keep the score respectable while their teammates lapsed easily into ‘end of season’ syndrome.  The goal which ensured that everyone stuck to their lines came after just six minutes and allowed Everton to relax into easy control. It was the personification of the way Everton’s style has developed over the last 11 years; where they used to be one-dimensional, here was flexibility, here was creativity and skill.

Phil Jagielka started the move deep in his own half, Gibson interchanged passes with Baines and Osman before Mirallas found Fellaini who ushered Baines forward. The full back left Jack Collison slaloming on his backside before returned the ball crisply to Fellaini. He flicked it on to Steven Pienaar, who in turn flicked it to Kevin Mirallas, who stroked the ball calmly home. A ten pass move culminating in a brilliant strike, the best of the season and one of the best of the Moyes era. Mirallas wrapped things up in the 60th minute, his shot looping beyond Jaaskelainen after he had been freed by the excellent Darron Gibson. Leon Osman and Pienaar also went close, while Victor Anichebe fired one glorious chance straight into Jaasskelainen’s nether regions. West Ham could not get out of their own half for much of the game, though Carroll did escape once, looping a header against the post. It was a contest in which the speed and range of Everton’s passing and movement could easily have secured a four or five goal margin.

With one game to go Everton have already accumulated their highest points total since the Premier League was formed in 1992; more even than when they won Champions League qualification in 2005. They have lost only one league home game this season – against Chelsea – a record which matches the great championship sides of 1970 and 1987. The new manager has firm foundations upon which to build: State-of-the-art training facilities at Finch Farm; a productive youth academy and scouting network; an experienced and high-value first team squad. The tricky bit will be choosing the right man.

Everton (4-2-3-1): Howard; Coleman, Jagielka©, Distin, Baines; Fellaini, Gibson; Mirallas (Oviedo 90), Osman, (Hibbert 89), Pienaar; Anichebe (Jelavic 73).

Subs Not Used: Mucha, Heitinga, Naismith, Barkley.

Booked: Mirallas.

West Ham United (4-1-4-1): Jaaskelainen; Demel, Collins, Reid, O’Brien; O’Neil (Noble 64); Collison (Joe Cole 55) Diame (Carlton Cole 46), Nolan©, Jarvis; Carroll.

Subs Not Used: Henderson, Vaz Te, Taylor, Pogatetz.

Booked: Demel, Collins.

Gate: 39,475

Ref: Phil Dowd

In the context of this game in isolation a draw was probably good enough. However in the context of Everton’s ambitions for the season it was a disappointment. An end-of-season point at Anfield would probably have been enough to confirm a comfortable top-four finish had it not been for that ludicrous last minute defeat at Carrow Road and precious points dropped at Goodison in winnable games against Newcastle, Norwich (again), Swansea and Aston Villa.  Add back (say) 10 lost points and, well, we don’t need to take it any further…..

This Merseyside derby will not live long in the memory – that there were more bookings (three) than shots on target (two) says everything. This was an end of season game writ large. Intensity was not lacking, what was missing was the freshness of thought required to produce game-changing moments. The players looked leggy, no one more so than Leighton Baines. The only Premier League player to have appeared in every minute of every game – not just of this season but last season too – he has earned the right to wear the hang-dog expression of the dog-tired. For him no squad rotation, no injuries, he really is the first name on the team sheet.

Everton’s point here was, as so often, about organisation and industry. They were well drilled with midfield and defence working efficiently to close the space around Liverpool’s danger man Coutinho. Stalemate would dictate that the Blues too would find their ace, Kevin Mirallas, trumped – perhaps a timely early warning of the sort of close scrutiny he will attract and need to overcome in his second season. But this was a day for defenders. Carragher, in his final derby before retirement, was bettered only by Phil Jagielka, who produced a colossal performance; two courageous, superbly timed blocks from Coutinho and Sturridge, were of the highest standard. England has no better out-and-out defender than him.

Sylvain Distin’s 55^th minute header was chalked out for an infringement. Referee Michael Oliver penalised Victor Anichebe for jostling with Pepe Reina but television replays showed that the big centre-forward had merely held his ground. It was a harsh decision. A few minutes earlier at the other end top drawer technique was needed from Tim Howard as he expertly smothered a Sturridge chance when left one-on-one with the striker. Not much else will linger long from this, derby number 220.

As Steven Gerrard presciently observed. “They’re a good team, difficult to beat. We haven’t had that cutting edge against the sides above us.” And it’s above Liverpool that Everton are guaranteed to finish if they can take just 2 points from their last two games.

Liverpool (4-2-3-1): Reina; Johnson, Carragher, Agger, Jose Enrique; Lucas, Gerrard©; Downing (Skrtel 79), Henderson (Borini 66), Coutinho; Sturridge

Unused subs: Jones, Assaidi, Coates, Suso, Shelvey.

Booked: Borini.

Everton (4-2-3-1): Howard; Coleman, Jagielka©, Distin, Baines; Osman, Gibson; Mirallas (Jelavic 75) Fellaini, Pienaar; Anichebe

Unused subs: Mucha, Hibbert, Heitinga, Oviedo, Naismith, Duffy.

Booked: Osman, Anichebe.

Referee: Michael Oliver

Gate: 44,991

A Partick Thistle player once took a bad knock to his head and was getting treatment, so the story goes, when the physio shouted over to manager John Lambie that the player was concussed, didn’t even know who he was and would clearly have to come off.  Lambie replied, “tell him he’s f*cking Pele and get him back on”. Sometimes it feels like Victor Anichebe is in a similar mental state to that hapless headbangee.

I remember when I first heard about Victor Anichebe. He was seemingly inseparable from fellow Royal Blue hope James Vaughan. Somehow though, Anichebe was always the junior partner and I expected less of him. Whereas James Vaughan had goalscoring weaved into his DNA, Anichebe – whilst good – seemed less exciting.

Then injuries happened.

First to Vaughan. Cruciate damage, a dislocated shoulder and all manner of bloody injuries were sustained. From a player who went into tackles like a lusty medieval jouster, perhaps it shouldn’t have come as a surprise when injuries permanently dented and eventually ended his Everton career.

Eventually Anichebe broke through the first team door in dramatic fashion. He was our black prince, a young swashbuckling force in our European campaign. His goalscoring at Metalist Kharkiv, Larissa, FC Nuremberg and SK Brann was his “Here’s Johnny!” moment.

Then big Vic got his injury.

It is St James’ Park in February, half time is looming. Slow “to me, to you” exchanges by midfield Sunday drivers are punctured by our hero tracking back, winning the ball, and dribbling forward. Kevin Nolan leaps feet first on Vic’s right shin, and the youngster writhes in pain, pulling his entire body up with his neck like a huge twisted girder. Physio Mick Rathbone says the sheer size of Anichebe’s legs is what stopped the tackle from destroying his career, later the Nigerian describes it as the most painful experience of his life. Kevin Nolan is dismissed and apologises at half time.

The game is smeared with violence, we clash like police and thieves. Ameobi rams Tim Howard and the ball into the net, Rodwell is bullied and buffeted, and Anichebe is crippled. Our Spanish laureate Arteta is injured too, although not from blunt tackling, just from an awkward fall.

Anichebe’s career has been in purgatory ever since Kevin Nolan’s studs hit his shin.

And then he slowly returned…

Stroppiness. Arguments. Moans from the stands raining down on him like hail. Confidence stripped, when he did score he still frowned. Standing there, passively aggressive, whilst his teammates surrounded him in a congratulatory swarm. He was the boy who forgot he was good.

And now…

He could be the striker that we need. Ridiculously strong and deceptively fast he’s almost unplayable (just imagine both him and Fellaini firing on all cylinders). His strength at holding the ball up with his back to goal is such that you imagine he could reverse all the way, shielding the ball right into the opposition net. There are still faint scars from the past, he still seems emotionally fragile. After he missed a good chance to put us 3-2 up at White Hart Lane, he threw himself to the floor, beating the turf with his fists, face longer than a milkman’s round. And there’s inconsistency too – turning in weaker performances at Arsenal and Sunderland. Perhaps someone needs to tell him that he’s Pele.

Interesting then, that a number of factors, happily synchronized, means that the next few months might provide a window of opportunity for a sale of Everton to be negotiated:-

Secure from relegation the club is guaranteed – as a minimum – a top 10 finish and might yet make the top 4 and qualify for the riches of the Champions League.

Everton carry debts of £46m but own a playing squad conservatively worth £100m; unlike bricks and mortar the value of the playing squad is a transitory thing and is never fully recognized in the accounts. The debt burden is of course exhaustively detailed and as at 31 May 2012 stood at £46m. Though the true value of the players isn’t recognised by the accountants it certainly would be by a potential buyer and even on a conservative reckoning it’s never been higher. Let’s say the squad is worth £100m. And if the newspapers are to be believed Everton have one player, who if sold, would raise £25m, and halve the club’s debt at a stroke.

Who knows whether David Moyes will be at the club beyond the end of this season, but he is there now and has repeatedly emphasized that if a takeover were to occur he would relish the opportunity of achieving success at Everton. He has his critics, but is in our view the single most important factor in holding Everton together in the upper reaches of the Premier League these last 10 years. Furthermore it is his activities in the transfer market which have kept the club solvent and the £100m of value we ascribe to the playing squad is largely down to him. He is, for a prospective buyer, THE key employee.

The new Premier League TV deal kicks in next season and Everton’s annual revenues will rise by at least £20m, pushing annual turnover through the £100m mark for the first time.

The lack of a modern cash generative stadium is a double-edged sword, on the one hand a new, state-of-the-art stadium is an urgent requirement and would need to be financed by a prospective acquirer. However, a new owner has all options open – new stadium, re-develop Goodison, ground share – no requirement here to buy someone else’s vision. And, as we outlined in our post of 29 December “Time to follow The Old Lady” a viable, modern new ground doesn’t need to cost the earth.

This coincidence of positives might well be fleeting and, come the summer, depleted by the loss of David Moyes and some key players, so the next 50 days, culminating with the end of season game at Stamford Bridge, could be a pivotal period for the club.

Chairman and controlling shareholder Bill Kenwright has said on many occasions that the club is for sale. We do not doubt him. The question is; how engaged and professional is the search for a buyer? Is Mr Kenwright active or passive in his pursuit of a deal? Has a prospectus been prepared and specialist investment bankers contracted to find a buyer for a fee? Or, as so often in the football world, is it just being left to a persuasive individual, supposedly ‘connected’ to deliver a nod here or a wink there?

Suddenly nothing is certain anymore. Our star player was booed off the field. Our manager seemed half hearted rather than heartbroken after we were dumped out of the cup. Since the final whistle blew, things have become even more chaotic.

Our loss lit the Royal Blue touch paper. Phil Neville yesterday belched out a truly rancid sound bite about a top 10 finish being amazing for a club like Everton. Suddenly problems are crawling out of every conceivable hole. David Moyes isn’t on the brochures sent out to advertise new season tickets. Bill Kenwright is apparently asking a ridiculous £125 million for Everton Football Club. On top of all this there’s a flock of “what ifs” flapping around. If we’d have beaten Wigan we’d be facing either Blackburn or Millwall at Wembley. If we won that we’d be facing a team concentrating on Champions League qualification – a European spot would have come gift wrapped with a cup final appearance.

We really should have seen defeat coming. Perhaps not in the brutal manner that was served up to us, but we regularly don’t push “lesser” teams hard enough. Norwich, Leeds Utd, QPR, Southampton, Reading, and Saturday’s game against Wigan were all games we should have won. Moyes’ teams often have such a strong work ethic, and we’re famed for being tough to play, all of which makes it so galling when we display such complacency. We thought Martinez would be picking a team of callow reserves, but Hubris was waiting for us around the corner. Not only did we underestimate Wigan but even when they had torn us into three, we couldn’t answer back.

Throw in a complacent streak, stir in an utter lack of motivation, and sprinkle some suicidal passing from our captain, and you have the nightmare performance. We shouldn’t blame Bill Kenwright and a lack of investment for this. We should blame the players and David Moyes. Our lame duck manager couldn’t motivate our players on Saturday, and they couldn’t muster a performance worthy of our fans. Such a fantastic season has turned sour in the space of four minutes. And still the contract is unsigned.

Former Everton and Preston physio Baz Rathbone wrote a very memorable passage in his book The Smell of Football.

When at Preston, Rathbone was tasked with working out pre season running schedules. When he went to the local park to run the route himself, a player who was an aspiring coach tagged along. The gruelling cross country run took them 20 minutes. The player suggested going the opposite direction so as to put the hilly section of the run at the beginning and make it even harder, he also insisted that they run it again. After locating the biggest hill in the park and sprinting to the top a dozen times, the player told Baz that he thought “a one minute recovery was too long and 50 seconds was enough. Guess what? Yes, we did the lot again.”

“Finally, several hours later, we slumped into the car, both knackered. I turned to this guy and said, ‘Wow, you are keen. Is that what you want to do when you finish playing – go into coaching?’”

“He looked at me and said, ‘Baz, by the time I am 45 I firmly believe I will have been manager of the season in the Premier League.’”

“It took me all my self control not to laugh in this poor deluded fellow’s face. And of course he was wrong – by the time he was 45, David Moyes had been named LMA Premier League Manager of the Season three times.”

At Everton the burning ambition behind Moyes’ blue eyes has been tempered by our meagre bank balance. If being rich is all a football club needs in its owner, then we have nothing. Moyes has had to play in the cinders whilst others dance in the Champions League. He’s also had to be shrewd with what money he does have. He has pulled from the lower divisions and even turned some of his new recruits – Lescott, Baines, Jagielka – into England internationals. It has been the trickiest part of his tenure – getting players to sign on the dotted line. Sometimes, as with Steven Pienaar leaving for Spurs – we’ve been burnt. Other times we have celebrated the fact that key players have signed vaunted contract extensions. It’s somewhat ironic that we’re now faced with David Moyes himself not signing his contract and refusing to be drawn on whether he’ll sign in the summer. There are many who think he won’t, and if journalists can see the writing on the wall then surely the players can too?

Our recent performances, so lacking in the customary Everton snarl, can be attributed in part to Moyes not signing. Many think he wants a bigger job, but would the fact that he is under contract with Everton really stop a Chelsea or Man City of this world? Some think he’ll take a bit of time away from the game, possibly working on TV as a pundit. Other see Germany as a likely destination.

It still confuses me.

If he’s undecided, I don’t want him anymore. If he wants to see how well we do in the league and cup, I don’t want him either. Moyes doesn’t have to prove himself to me – and our club shouldn’t have to prove itself to him.

I abhor the tsunami of abuse that floods social media when we lose – thousands of people parroting “F*ck off Everton” in a swirl of jerking knees. But what Moyes is doing to us now, is telling us to f*ck off. Don’t get me wrong, I admire what Moyes has done with us – I love that he is ambitious – and I will defend his playing style against myopic accusations that he is a hoof merchant until the cows come home. But it isn’t acceptable to be going into such an important part of the season with an unsigned contract.

Expectations

In many ways Moyes has been hoist with his own petard. The success that he has created has raised expectations. And when we don’t meet those raised expectations an optical illusion is created. People will be disappointed if we finish sixth. Some will even call it a failure. Sixth. In a league where even miserable alcohol drenched strugglers like QPR are flush with cash.

Nobody is perfect, and certainly not David Moyes. There are real questions to be answered over his use of substitutions, his apparent aversion to youth, and the fact that we almost never beat the big teams away from home. Add to that his track record of supposedly “ruining” strikers, as the Guardian’s Mark Tallentire points out here. Last season Nikica Jelavic treated goals like just another notch on his goalpost, now he just looks dazed and confused.

I’d happily have had Moyes as our manager for another decade, but that was before he couldn’t commit to a new contract. Everton may still be married to their manager, but it’s troubling that he isn’t wearing his wedding ring any more.

Despite the comfort of the final score-line, confidence remains paper thin amongst fans and players at Goodison. One can’t help but feel that another goal for the visitors in the last twenty minutes would have seen this frailty exposed. Like an iceberg, just below the surface lurks disaster. Fingers tend to be pointed at defenders and defending for this anxiety but for us it is the lack of goals which is to blame; against Norwich, had opportunities to extend the lead been taken the Canaries’ comeback would never have materialized. Here against Oldham, it was Osman’s strike which prevented an incipient case of the jitters turning into the full-blown version. Equally Mirallas’ adroitly taken half-volley in the fourteenth minute from Gibson’s pinpoint delivery, helped settle everyone. David Moyes had undoubtedly held Kevin Mirallas back for this game and the talented Belgian returned to the starting line-up to put Everton on course for Wembley.

In the absence of the injured Fellaini Phil Neville came in to partner Darron Gibson with Leon Osman pushed into a more advanced role. It was this enforced and unexpected change that unhinged Oldham; rather than the familiar physical challenge posed by Fellaini, Osman presented the visitors with quick feet and mobility and it was in the space just behind Jelavic that the game was won.

Nothing would help address Everton’s recent slump in form more than a return to goal-scoring form of Nikica Jelavic. Though he hasn’t hit the net in nine games, other aspects of his play had been holding up well. Here, finally and worryingly, the rest of his game looked shot too. Though his work-rate has never flagged, his assured first touch has morphed into that of a blacksmith, his pace has come down a notch, while the player who produced that most delicate of angled, headed goals at Old Trafford last season suddenly can’t head for toffee and sent one decent Coleman cross ballooning over the bar having completely miss-timed his jump. This is the most severe case of ‘second season syndrome’ seen in these parts since Alan Whittle all those years ago.

With Jelavic firing blanks and Anichebe injured, Everton’s striker options look dangerously threadbare. David Moyes has described the next fortnight as season defining so the return of the real Nikica Jelavic is required, pronto. On Saturday at Goodison against Reading would be just perfect.

EVERTON (4-2-3-1): Howard; Coleman, Distin, Jagielka, Baines; Gibson, Neville©; Mirallas (Naismith 84), Osman, Pienaar (Hitzlsperger 89); Jelavic

Subs not used: Mucha, Heitinga, Oviedo, Vellios, Duffy

OLDHAM ATHLETIC (4-4-1-1): Bouzanis; Brown (Wesolowski 76) Grounds, Mvoto, Tarkowski; Croft, Furman(c), Iwelumo (Smith 55), Obita (Simpson 55); Baxter; Barnard

Subs not used: Cisak, Millar, Winchester, Mellor

Referee: Michael Oliver

Gate: 32,688.

It’s a family affair.

Low – That’s a hard one because there’ve been more than enough. My dad took me to Wembley in 1989 when Everton lost to Liverpool in the FA Cup final. I was only eight so I took the defeat to heart, although I was aware of something more important going on in terms of the raw Hillsborough grief and unity the game represented.

 

Fiorentina away in the Uefa Cup last 16, 2008 was a miserable experience. It rained relentlessly, we were threatened by knife-wielding locals, bullied by police, herded into a perspex box as an away end, and then defeated comfortably. Next day after too much drowning of sorrows I slept in and missed my flight home.

 

Then of course there was the FA Cup final in 2009. So close, so far, so familiarly depressing.

 

High – The Wimbledon game in 1994, then Wembley 1995 and a cup. Ecstasy. Can vividly recall the split second despair when Graham Stuart hit the bar, then the overwhelming elation when Rideout nodded in the rebound.

 

Also finishing fourth in 2005 – even if it was systematically ruined shortly after.

It’s a toss-up between Neville Southall, because Everton have conceded too many goals this season leading to draws. But equally the non-stop, all-conquering goals of Dixie Dean would have turned those draws into wins and propelled us to the top like RVP has done for United in tight games.

It’s too close so sod it – I’ll go for Alan Ball. The Messi of his era.

Graeme Sharp. I’m fortunate enough to see him every weekend now but it never gets old.

It was in that 1988/89 season. My dad took me to Goodison to see a 1-0 win over Spurs. I don’t remember who scored but it was probably Sharpy or Tony Cottee.

Probably until David Moyes leaves.

The immediate reaction when considering the long-term is that it could be bleak. The likelihood is that whoever replaced him would need a significant bedding-in period and would possibly have to likely deal with a lot of key players moving on. That’d clearly hit the League performances and the club might sink into the middle/bottom tier of the Premier League.

Nobody knows with any certainty yet. There are too many question marks hanging over the concept.

Probably not. Liverpool seem to be slowly moving forward with realistic plans to redevelop Anfield.

I’ll tell you after the summer.

It can be difficult at times. Other club writers on local papers don’t support the teams they cover and that may well have its advantages.

I’ve got many but when something momentous happens I always try and take in James Lawton’s account of it.