So from 2002, we had David Moyes for 10 years, developing the cosy ‘Plucky little Everton’ mentality, possibly without realising.
Drilled into our heads that a 0-0 was a point gained, never two lost.
Losing 1-0 to the ‘big’ teams was expected, so don’t get too down about it!
Transfer business was scarce, but often brilliant. Quality over quantity. For the old Everton anyway.
We became attached to cult heroes; Hibbo, the Stracq, Ossie, to name a few.
Now don’t get me wrong, becoming attached to cult heroes is never a bad thing, but it summed up the mentality of the time. As long as we give 100%, we’re happy.
Nowadays, we’re more cynical, probably for the better. Everton deserves quality and 100%, that should be a given. You don’t pick either or. It became clear over time that we had become comfortable in our position, not really feeling like ambition at the time, ’cause who could be bothered renewing passports for a European tour. Too much effort. We were all happy enough getting top half and being comfortable, wondering what our next big money, £500,000 signing would be. More of the Tim Cahill’s less of the Gibson’s please.
The mentality was not hostile, not by any means, it was rather gratifying knowing that going to Goodison on a Saturday would most likely result in getting at least a point. But over time, even that became a chore as droning football could often overshadow even the gloomiest of November afternoons. Well equipped as ever, Moyes in his thick coat often proved to suit the mood of the football on show.
Toward the latter of Moyes’ reign, granted, we did pick up and attack positively, which was not harmed by the addition of Kevin Mirallas. While prone to temper tantrums, the man’s talent is among the elite. On his day, he makes the day’s headlines.
However, not to focus on one man, we all began to look to the future with Moyes, and how he seemed to be adapting in his role. We finally thought we had our man up top with Jelavic, but after his barnstorming first half-season, where he had the Midas touch, he promptly disappeared down the yellow-brick road. Strange term for us Evertonians that, ”Attacking”, isn’t it.
It can bring back memories of those days back in the early seventies, or it can give us wartime-esque flashbacks of Kone’s attempt of an overhead kick. Fifty-fifty. A luxury commodity in the Moyes era in his mentality of ”Defence means a point”. But my God, when we attacked, on those nights at Goodison vs. City and the like, we were bloody good.
Anyway, as quick as the man appeared, Moyes moved on to pastures anew down the road at Manchester United. A tenure which was shaky at best, possibly reminding us of that quote by the man himself. Not everything is good away from Everton. As a matter of fact, it’s a bit dull.
So we got our Catalan sweetheart in Bobby brown shoes. Well, until by the mid third season there were a few more colourful names being thrown around the Gwladys. Enough about that for now.
That first season wasn’t half great. We had Moyes’ rigid structure, his legacy, left with Jags at the back and his new little protégé, John Stones.
We had a free flowing, firm tackling midfield in Barry and McCarthy. And that front three of Ross, Rom and Kev.
They were alright like. We ended that season with our record points total, but alas, in true Everton fashion, we finished 5th. If we equalled those points last season, we’re second.
Anyway, spilt milk and all.
That season, we had Bobby’s silver tongue poeticising to us that we were class. We could have anyone on our day, and this showed in that run of Arsenal and United away. We were so positive, bouncing to the ground on Saturday’s and bouncing back afterwards. Nil Satis Nisi Optimum. We’re good enough to beat anyone. Why can’t we go up to Old Trafford and smash them? The hope of this, sad as it is, dwindled a bit after time as results began to falter.
A toxic atmosphere and mindset began to emerge, as protests became common on Saturdays. We weren’t going in the right direction at all, and nothing out of Martinez’s mouth could fool us.
A complete revamp was needed. Bobby made us dream, but we woke up a bit earlier than we wanted to. Where was the snooze button for a bit longer? Anyway, up we got, and Bobby was gone. That’s life.
So as the Euro’s dragged on, so did a certain Southampton manager’s holiday. Little (Or by this point, a lot) did we know that Ronald Koeman was already geared up in royal blue. The legendary centre back, coming to Everton. Not quite Per Krøldrup, but he wasn’t bad. And as RK was announced as the new boss, a lingering cloud over Goodison seemed to lift.
A hardline manager, who had been everywhere and won it all twice was at the helm, and he promised glory. Backed by our own pocket billionaire, we’re on our way back.
Sooner than eight days into Koeman’s tenure, we had our new board member, Sasha, telling Lukaku’s mouthpiece of an agent to get in line, and the boss had been on a tour of Goodison, providing us with a gallery on Twitter, and providing Southampton fans to shed a tear over their now shattered God complex.
Moyes gave us 10 years of comfortable stability, Bobby allowed us to dream again. Koeman can take us above and beyond. God knows where we’re headed, but I’m here for the ride. Ronald has made a plea; ‘Stick behind me’ he says, to us. So why not?
All together, now.
