Fans Comment
Rob Fox

Reality Bites
3 September 2004

I’ve been planning to write this article for a while.  For some reason, today I feel the need to write it, just to try to make sense for myself of why I feel the way I do right now.  I keep reminding myself that nobody has died, but I can’t shake this horrible feeling I have at the moment.

On the whole, I am a fairly sane and rational person, yet I have an unhealthy obsession with Everton Football Club that I have long since accepted is never going to go away.  I don’t know why I feel the way I do about Everton, but addictions are hard to rationalise.  I have in recent years begun to realise that not everybody I meet finds Everton as fascinating as I do, but I can’t stop myself from boring people about them all the same.

One thing I have noticed is the reaction people have to my views.  In general, I would say most people find my passion for Everton quaint.  I know that’s a strange word to use, but I honestly can’t think of a better one, as it is one often used in clichéd references as to how Americans view our country and it’s customs.  Today, people have even been sympathetic.  But they don’t understand.  Their sympathy, well intentioned as some of it is, just makes me want to hit them.  Irrational, but that’s how I feel right now.  There’s no point telling them that it’s not all about Rooney, but the concern that David Moyes may see very little of the proceeds.  Wayne Rooney may not be an Evertonian any more, but I am.

Everton is a huge part of my life, and my faith is as strong as ever.  When you are caught in hailstones you cover your head, find some resolve and wait for it to pass.  I think this is a fair of description of what us Blues have had to do in recent years.  As the hailstones have melted and turned to a flood, we have floated, bereft, clinging to any passing flotsam of hope as we await our salvation.  I am beginning to understand why people have a look of pity on their face at my deluded ramblings...

Somebody reminded me today how vehement I had been in my insistence that Rooney would not leave Everton.  In fact, everyone in my workplace, which incidentally is not in Liverpool and isn’t populated with many football fans, have been amazed at my shock that the ‘inevitable’ has happened.  When I have tried to explain that I thought he would be loyal, I have been met with the sort of expression I would expect if I said I believed in Father Christmas.  As my boss put it, in a sane and rational, fashion “I suppose he has to go where the money is. It’s his career, not a hobby.”  Oh, ok then.

Believe it or not, this article is not meant to be about Wayne Rooney, but of course it’s hard to ignore him at the moment, but I am trying very hard.  I’ve not looked at Sky Sports all day.  But this article is about Professional Footballers.  Wayne Rooney is definitely one of those.  Professional Footballers are not really like us, are they?  Well, really, deep down they are.  The problem is, most of the time we don’t want them to be.  Next time you smirk when you see some spotty teenager looking at a poster of Justin Timberlake or Rachel Stevens, remind yourself of the last time you chanted a footballer’s name.

When I was 14 years old, I desperately wanted to play for Everton.  Because I wasn’t good enough, I was stood on the terraces instead, cheering on, yes idolising, the ones who were good enough.  When Wayne Rooney was 14 he was banging in goals for the Under-17s.  When he was 14, Wayne Rooney loved Everton Football Club, just like you and me.  I never really grew up; maybe Wayne Rooney has.  I am 35 years old and I feel sick because an 18-year-old lad who has never spoken to me has betrayed me.  I hate the fact he has signed for Manchester United and, no matter how much I try to explain it, the simple reason is because I’m a Scouser and that’s how it is.  Maybe Wayne Rooney is more mature than I am; he’s been offered a better job and has made a professional decision.  I read his statement tonight on an Everton message board, and what he said seemed fairly reasonable and understandable coming from a professional footballer.

Except of course, Wayne Rooney is an ordinary lad from Croxteth, who was supposedly a rabid Blue like you and me, who now doesn’t want to play for us anymore.  Because of this fact, I hate his guts.  Maybe – if he had handled things better – I wouldn’t, but the simple fact is that an Everton supporter has gone over to the dark side.  I find that hard to come to terms with.  But the truth is, that’s my problem, not his.  I chose to put my faith in him; Wayne Rooney never made any of us any promises.  He just wasn’t who we thought he was.  He is simply a Professional Footballer.

In the absence of facts regarding his departure, a plethora of plausible ‘conspiracy theories’ have sprung up.  All of these come of course from reliable, but unnamed sources.  The pantomime has had all of the right characters; Bumbling Bill, Tricky Trevor (remember him?), Grasping Gregg, and Pied Piper Paul, with poor old Cinderooney not knowing who to trust.  The reality is it’s us who don’t know who to trust.  Don’t know why, but I keep expecting to see Alistair Campbell lurking at the edge of the shot when Bill or Paul Gregg are in view.  Gradually, people are realising that there may be more than one villain, perhaps a little bit of blame to all parties, or maybe it is simply a case of a young lad getting too big for his boots.  Then again, maybe it is just a professional making a career decision.

So what does it take to become a Professional Footballer?  There are only two necessary qualifications.  One is simply being better than most people at football; the other is being dedicated enough to make the most of your ability.  It’s that simple.  That’s what separates them from us – nothing else.  Then, if you reach the very top, you are suddenly presented with huge amounts of money and a celebrity lifestyle at your fingertips.  Unlike Camelot, football clubs don’t offer counselling to help to you to cope with your new-found wealth and status.  There are not too many 19- or 20-year-olds who wouldn’t get carried away.

There are undoubtedly plenty of people who had the ability to be professional footballers but were simply not single-minded or dedicated enough.  Maybe it’s this dedication that breeds, or at least is part of, their ruthlessness when making decisions such as leaving the club where they are idolised seemingly without thought for the supporters.

I can’t remember who said it, but I recently read a quote that summed it all up.  “Supporters demand loyalty from players, but in truth all they can reasonably expect is that people gives their all while playing for their club.”  If a player, whoever it is, decides they want to play for somebody else then that is their prerogative.  Fair enough, but I think the majority of Everton fans feel animosity towards Rooney for the way he handled things more than the fact he actually asked for a move.  The only reasons I don’t feel 100% hatred for him is that he is a young lad who has had an awful lot to cope with for his age and the nagging thought that maybe he is not 100% to blame for the situation.  Maybe Gary Speed and Andy Gray shouldn’t be wholly condemned for their actions either.  Certainly plenty of rumours have emerged to at least partly exonerate Speed from blame and maybe Andy Gray didn’t cynically use us to negotiate a better contract with Sky.  Of course it’s safer just to assume all footballers are naturally greedy and selfish, then you can’t be disappointed.

When I was 16 years old, Everton were the best team in England — probably Europe.  Our team contained only one genuinely world-class player, and he was the goalkeeper!  We were the best because the manager had found the right blend of players.  It didn’t matter that Sheedy couldn’t tackle, because van den Hauwe was a lunatic and Peter Reid did enough tackling for everybody else put together.  More importantly, we had the right blend of personalities.  We had plenty of strong characters who cared about the Club.  As in the case of Duncan Ferguson, it was a symbiotic relationship and we fed off each other.  Every player was integral, even the substitutes, and they clearly had tremendous respect for each other.  It didn’t matter that some may not have liked each other much as people, until things started going wrong of course.  Stand up Keown and Sheedy, well Keown at least — might be best if you stay where you are, Kev!  You’re still a hero to me.  It’s called class — something Sheedy has always had, even though he once played for Liverpool.

This commitment to Everton was epitomised by none more than Peter Reid, a childhood Liverpool fan.  Dave Watson, also ex-Liverpool, gave as much to Everton as the likes of Mike Lyons.  Neither of these are hated particularly by Liverpool fans, yet Robbie Fowler, a boyhood Blue, is despised by Evertonians.  Bitter Blues, eh?  Or maybe it has more to do with the way each of these players conducted themselves.  Maybe if Wayne Rooney was only average, people wouldn’t feel the way they do today.  Maybe if he had signed for Newcastle, it wouldn’t feel so bad... or maybe it would feel worse.  At least Manchester Utd are worthy of his talents in terms of profile and playing ability.  Yes, Wayne, Manchester Utd are a bigger club and have a better team.  Never forgot that this in no way makes them a better club.

More importantly, people have remembered there is more to Everton than Wayne Rooney.  In the absence of an idol on the pitch, most people are now clinging to Moyes as our beacon of hope.  Just as the hyperbole over Wayne has been way over the top from all quarters, now David Moyes is a latter day saint, showing remarkable patience, courage, resilience and honesty.  I have been a huge Moyes fan since day one, and have defended him on many occasions, but even I have been a little disturbed by the fact that many Blues who were previously sceptical of Moyes’s ability are suddenly championing him.  My reservations are not because I believe they are wrong, but that it is symptomatic of this curious Evertonian affliction that means we always need an idol, a beacon of hope to cling to.  This person, like Wayne Rooney and before him Duncan Ferguson, can do no wrong.  We then forgot that this person is human and just as likely to make mistakes as the rest of us.  We even had a dream stadium as an idol for a while.  Fortunately, in the case of David Moyes, I believe he does have the qualities to be a genuine hero, just accept he won’t get it right every time.  Nobody does.

One positive aspect of the Rooney saga is that it has killed a lot of Evertonians' romanticism stone dead... for a while at least.  If we couldn’t trust one of our own, well, who can we trust with our dreams?  Only perhaps David Moyes at present has our trust, and that is because he has earned it.  That is why he is now the focal point for everybody’s hopes.

Most people's  favourite player now is Joseph Yobo.  I believe this is not just because he is our best player, but because of the way he has conducted himself at Everton, just quietly getting on with being fantastic.  Yet I wouldn’t say he is idolised for the simple reason that we daren’t. Every Evertonian I speak to is of the same opinion.  He is far too good for the team he is in and nobody expects him to stay if we do not drastically improve.  I doubt there is an Evertonian who would not wish him all the best if he chooses to ask for a transfer at the end of the season.  Maybe if he came from Bootle people would demand more loyalty, but as he is a Nigerian.  We accept that he is a professional footballer and should be in a team appropriate to his ability.  He is only human after all.  We don’t ask him for loyalty, just commitment while he is here.  That is proof we can be realistic.

Although most of us haven’t wholly faced up to it yet, we will have to face the reality sooner or later.  Our history is of importance only to ourselves, yet it makes us what we are.  In real terms, the rich clubs are streets ahead and we are of similar status to the likes of Portsmouth and Southampton.  We don’t like it, but in football terms in 2004 it is true.  A club’s status is measured solely in terms of finances now — nothing else.

The difference between us and the clubs around us is that they are delighted with their status; we are ashamed because we are Everton.  Nil Satis Nisi Optimum.  We will never be happy until we are good enough for the likes of Wayne Rooney.  In reality we needed him to be happy in our team not just because he was an Evertonian, but because he could fulfil his ambitions with us.  The realisation is that this is clearly a long way off, and may not happen for many, many years — if ever.  Don’t forget, once the likes of Preston North End stood at the pinnacle of English football.  Their last manager was happy there, yet he still left to pursue his ambitions.

In a world where only money matters, we almost certainly need to embrace the greed and ruthlessness that drives the likes of, say, Wayne Rooney, or risk long term obscurity.  Consider this: Bill Kenwright is happy to get 25% of any excess future fee over £27M.  When Manchester Utd sold Richie Wellens to Blackpool for £50,000, they insisted that they should be entitled to 50% of any future fee.  This means that United’s greed is now hindering Blackpool from gaining much-needed revenue by selling an unsettled player.  David Gill would of course call this good business.

It’s a bitter pill to swallow, but that is the reality.  Being an Evertonian at present is a humbling experience.  We want success because we are Everton, but do we want it at any price?  The furore over the Season Ticket price hike indicates we will not succumb easily, but most accepted it in the end.  A few years ago, we were aghast at the thought of moving to Cronton; now, many Evertonians would consider sharing with Liverpool.  I have realised that most of my anger towards Wayne Rooney is because he is a symptom of our decay.  The anger is born of feelings of frustration and humiliation.

What can we really say when Manchester United fans mock us?  The truth is their club have simply done what we would have done in their position.  I read an article recently in which a Leicester fan compared the situation to when we signed Gary Lineker.  He pointed out that the people of Leicester understood Gary’s decision in going to a big club and he is still a hero to them.  The difference is they know their place, our history and tradition means we simply won’t accept that ours is anywhere other than challenging at the top.  Perhaps it is this spirit more than anything that will ensure we never go the way of other clubs who have hit on hard times.  As the song says “We will fight, fight, fight with all our might for the boys in the Royal Blue jersey.”

John Lydon once sang ‘Anger is an energy’.  Let’s make sure we channel our energy in the right directions.  In short we need to understand the position we are in and come to terms with it, then begin to really put our energy into making this Club great again.  Even though I can fully understand why people are painting graffiti as a way of expressing their hurt and anger, it is ultimately futile.  Besides, the costs of repainting Goodison’s walls will probably come out of Moyes’ transfer budget.

It is important continue to pressurise the Everton Board and demand that they remember our motto, but most importantly let’s get behind the team.  That is the one area where we can definitely make a positive contribution.  Already, the players who remain generally have a little more of our support now.  People who expressed their disgust at us signing Division 1 players are now more willing to give them a chance.  Kevin Kilbane is a firm favourite with many fans; Marcus Bent and Tim Cahill look like following him.  Maybe even Robbie Savage would be readily accepted now.  These players may be viewed merely as stepping stones, but they are the here and now.

Fans of clubs like Bolton, Fulham and Portsmouth know they will never be real contenders, so they are content to enjoy the moment.  Rather than worrying about whether Jay-Jay Okoacha will leave, most just enjoy having him while it lasts.  If we had taken that attitude with Wayne Rooney we wouldn’t feel so distraught now.

Of course, we can’t do that because we are Everton.  We are proud of what our club stands for and truly believe we are the best, maybe not the biggest, but definitely the best.  In truth, there is plenty of evidence to support this belief.  There are few who can match our genuine passion, not phoney flag waving, and few clubs have such an effect on many of those in their employ.  I take great delight in the thought that people like Peter Reid, Adrian Heath, Alan Ball, Ian Snodin, Graeme Sharp the legendary Howard Kendall, with no natural affinity to our club, all became huge life-long Evertonians.  I suppose you could add Duncan Ferguson to that list, even if I do have some reservations.  Hard to know as he never actually speaks much, except when he joined another club.  Remind you of anyone?  Harsh, perhaps, but I’m not feeling particularly generous at the moment.

Personally, I cringed last season at the Tottenham game when fans were chanting for Thierry Henry and Wayne Rooney whilst completely ignoring the players on the pitch.  Rooney, well understandable maybe, but Henry?  That’s not what Everton is to me.  I thought we had more pride in ourselves.  But maybe that’s just me.  As Evertonians we pride ourselves on being different, but truthfully we are punch drunk.  We don’t know what we are anymore.  We know what we don’t want to be.  In truth we don’t really want anything to do with what football has become.  But what choice do we have?

The only thing we can be sure about is our history.  In effect, we are dinosaurs.  I don’t know if it is intentional or if he is just like us, but Bill Kenwright has played on this fact many times.  Mention Dixie Dean and we all go misty eyed.  Unfortunately for Bill, reality has hit us over the head with a large shovel and we have all realised that bold action is needed, not words.  We need strong leadership, and yes, maybe ruthlessness, if we are to evolve into a successful 21st Century Football Club.  Whether we would truly enjoy being one is a different matter.  In a few years, maybe Wayne can tell us if pots of gold are worth selling your soul for.  Maybe he’ll come to the Stanley Park Bowl to tell us in person...

Rob Fox