I am reminded... it's seven years since the second-greatest moment of my life (runner-up only to my first kiss with Sarah). 

Putting a souvenir autographed ball down on the penalty spot at the Park End – both the ball and the illegal access to the Goodison pitch being gifts from the magnificent Kevin Johnson, former TW contributor and forever friend. 

Driving the pen into the net past ceremonial goalkeeper Keith Harrison, and then being chased off the pitch by a large security guy, fleeing with Pete Mills and Rob Halligan and Kev and Keith and I believe Patrick Murphy. 

A moment of transcendent joy on, I believed, my only trip to Goodison. The cancer was unstoppable, the remission temporary. Bye, guys.

A month after going home, back in the hospital, the stunning news that the new drug designed to slow the cancer a bit was, in fact, starting to actually save some lives. Mine was among the first. Now there are thousands.

At the time of that kick, however, I never would have believed I'd be around so long to remember it, or to experience so much since. 

Or... to see our beloved Everton brought so low, to such desperation year after year, to so much humiliation from the football powers that be.. 

But as gut-wrenching as our current situation may be, we can never forget that there is always hope, and there are always heroes. Dom kept us up. Douc kept us up. Maybe this year it'll be Dwight or Garner or Tark's big head. But somebody will do it.

I'm still on the top side of the grass, and Everton is still in the Premier League. We're both staying. Never doubt it.