Fans Comment
Alan Noon

We're cursed I tell you... we're cursed!
31 December 2005

Maybe Goodison is built on an ancient Indian burial ground? Maybe someone smashed a mirror (several hundred times)? Or maybe we just have bad feng shui?

Whatever it is I realized the curse of Everton when I was just 8 years old. It wasn’t my choice to be an Evertonian, it was handed down from father to son. It was back in 1975, Everton were putting together a decent side under Billy Bingham and had qualified for the old Uefa Cup. We were playing AC Milan; we drew 0-0 at Goodison and back in Milan a 1-1 draw would have gotten us through. Milan went ahead and as Everton pressured to get the equalizer a blatant penalty decision was instead awarded to a free kick. All the photographs in the papers proved the Everton player was tripped in the area, I realized the curse was there, we we’re once again robbed and out of Europe.

Move forward to 1977: after a run of bad results, Bingham was replaced by Gordon Lee (surely ranking as one of the dourest Everton managers). Well, we beat Bolton in the semi-final of the old League Cup and off to Wembley we trotted. After a boring 0-0 draw against Villa and several replays, once again, the curse struck: we lost..

Who can forget the debacle at Maine Road that same year? As I mentioned, the curse is always the worst when you least expect it. 2-2 and surely, no it can’t be… yes! A goal from Brian Hamilton to finally topple Liverpool and finally restore glory to the Blues! Oh crap, Mr Thomas disallows it, for what? Well, we’ll never know, but it was obvious the curse was still there.

Several FA Cup semi-finals failed to lift the curse. Who can forget the 1980 West Ham semi-final? At 0-0 in the replay, we moved into extra time. I was listening to it on the radio and suddenly West Ham scored thanks to a Roger Kenyon own goal. I cried and turned off the radio assuming (quite rightly) that the curse would not be lifted.

But I was forced by my Dad to watch the game on Sportsnight to see if I could spot my older brother who was at the game. Well, knock me down with a feather, up pops big Bob Latchford and scores an incredible header to tie things at 1-1! My turning off of the radio had been premature – I went ballistic assuming we would now restore our glory and lift the dreaded curse.

However, the curse is always at its cruelest when you least expect it. I think it was Frank Lampard senior who then scored the winner for the Hammers; it was only his ever goal or some other bizarre record. Anyway, we were out again.

Then came the Milk Cup in 1984, a young Blues side that looked as if it was going to go somewhere. I went to Wembley with hope in my heart for once. No, I wasn’t one of the people that started shouting ‘Merseyside, Merseyside’ after that blatant hand ball from Scotland’s number 1 Alan Hanson who denied Everton a penalty and sure victory. I knew we wouldn't lift the curse, and again I cried after the replay at Maine Road when we got battered.

You’re probably reading this and thinking "yeah, but what about the 80’s with Kendall?". Well, that was the curse at it’s worst. Yes, we had success but look what happened. We were all set to dominate European football when Liverpool got out their voodoo dolls and wrecked our chances by getting us banned from Europe — what the hell did we ever do to deserve that?

W’re cursed; it’s as simple as that. A few dubious managers later and a little (very little) bit of success and we find the curse at it’s most rampant. We haven’t been great this season but we’ve not had our share of luck have we? Look at the Villarreal away game — why was Big Dunc’s goal disallowed? Look at the derby, why is it that Liverpool always get the goal that shouldn’t of been and the Blues don’t? Why do they get their players kept on the pitch for outrageous fouls (Gerard on Naysmith a few years before) and we get ours sent off for the daftest of challenges?

So, don’t worry fellow blues: bad luck — that's all it is. Until we find the lucky rabbit's foot, the four-leaf clover, or build our ground within the parameters of a feng shui master, then we will always be cursed. It’s not Moyes's fault, it isn’t Kenwright’s fault, it’s just the way it is.

Next time we play, don’t walk on the cracks on the pavement, put your left shoe on before your right one, bring out the lucky rabbit’s foot on the key-ring chain, try to cross a black cat's path (or is that bad luck?) and make sure you wear your lucky number 7 shirt... and maybe, just maybe, we’ll lift the curse that plagues us.

Alan Noon

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