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Fans Comment
Big Baz


Our Day Will Come
26/05/05

This is one of the few occasions I will be appreciating the fact that my Glasgow home is some 250 miles away from Liverpool.  I’ve lived up here for over five years and this will definitely be one of those instances when I will be more than happy to be outside the broadcasting range of the likes of Granada and BBC North West.  I can’t say that I’ll be sad to miss the numerous programme changes that will probably be served up to the TV-watching Merseysiders, to depict “Rafa’s Returning Reds” and “Reds in Europe” and other irritating titles such as that, which will be aired at regular intervals.

I had sat in wide-eyed, euphoric disbelief the other night, at the humiliation that was being dished out on a worldwide stage, to each and every one of those arrogant, smug, Kopite twats in the first half of the game — and I prayed for a second half to match the first.  But you see this is Liverpool, their shit never seems to stink, and they always seem to have this sickening ability for their toast to land butter-side up.  Here I was sitting with my phone at half time trying to desperately get hold of all of my mouthy Kopite mates only to find that their mobiles were all mysteriously switched off.  20 years of Blue misery was finally being paid back to these bastards with 20 years worth of interest……there was in fact a God after all.

For the two hours that followed, I sat in a trance at the disasterous events that unfolded in front of me; it was like ‘car crash TV’ in the end — I just couldn’t take my eyes off it…..  I was completely numb like I was in some sort of vegetative state and just couldn’t quite hit the Off button on the remote.

After finally managing to get my ‘remote’ finger into action to blank the screen of the nauseating Red bile that was flooding into my living room, I sat in silence for nearly an hour in complete disbelief.  Yet again I thought, the Gods have parked there fat arses over Goodison and not only had a good empty out, but presented one of those shits that somehow manages to get right under the rim.  It sickens me (as it must nearly all Evertonians) to the pit of my stomach to see and hear all of this false media frenzy relating to the shower that they are.  All this garbage about being back where they belong and the trophy coming home make me absolutely puke!!

They have never been fully punished, individually as a club, for the actions of their own fans, not 'English' fans, during those shameful scenes in Heysel 20 years ago.  Everton, as we all know, were the main losers during that despicable night in Belgium and we are only now starting to get back on our feet after arguably our most successful side ever was dismantled following the removal of English clubs from all European competitions.  Here we were last night finally watching these bastards, who can’t even spell humility, get their comeuppance in style, only to yet again have our faces rubbed into a huge steaming pile of their non-stinking shite!

Applaud their efforts last week?  Never.  Give them any credit for such a momentous achievement?  You've gotta be bleeding kidding me.  Forgive them for the 20 years of misery that has followed the actions of their fans in Belgium?  Never, until we reach (and then surpass) the same point as we were at in 1985 before our dream team was dismantled.

Me bitter?  Damn right!!!  Proud of it?  Nah, not really...  I'm usually quite impartial with most things in life, and I do get quite embarrassed sometimes by how much hatred I have towards them, but that's what it means even to a bloke like me who is, I’m told, of reasonable intelligence.

I bumped into a Celtic-following colleague on my way into work the other morning, who asked (to my amazement) if I was pleased for my birth city and country following last night's game.  I was astonished there was still this hugely inflated misconception kicking about that we do actually want the best, not only for our beloved Blues, but in the absence of this, we wish only well for our neighbours.  He was quite taken back by the tone of my bitter response even though he fully understands the infamous relationship of Glasgow’s Old Firm.  He still believed, as do a lot of people outside of Liverpool, that we go arm in arm to the match on Derby days and regardless of the result, shake hands at the final whistle and still manage to have a pint together.

He did however come out with a piece of wisdom that I wished to share, to bring this rant to an end.  He said that I should adopt an old Irish saying that is frequently used in Celtic circles (or rather Hoops….sorry!):

Tiocfaidh ár la (pronounced Chocky Or La) which translates to “Our Day Will Come”.

This, I thought was right on the money for our current situation at Goodison, under the guidance of the Moysiah.  I firmly believe that ‘Our Day’ is starting to appear in the distance and the position that we were at in 1985 will soon disappear into the distance as we proceed into another glorious chapter in the history of historic club.

Keep the Faith; In Moyes We Trust.

Big  Baz


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