Season 2011-12 Fan Articles

Why I?m 50 times the Evertonian I was on Thursday

By Karl   Parsons  ::  16/04/2012   32 Comments (»Last) One thing I?ve been blessed with all my life has been I seem to find good mates. One thing I have lived for all my thinking life has been Everton Football Club. Those that know me will conclusively confirm those feelings towards MY football team and the fact before Friday I was blue through and though, totally EFC. So why am I 50 times the Evertonian I was on Thursday?

Here?s the reason:

To set the scene I first have to take a step back a couple of weeks.

I normally go everywhere with my son Mark. It?s my special time, father and son bonding, talking team selection and tactics; going mad together when we score; arguing together when we lose. To me very special I promise you.

Like a bolt out of the blue he said to me a couple of weeks ago he wasn?t going to the Semi?s, ?Why?? I asked. He just didn?t fancy the whole idea of it. Even though I tried unsuccessfully to talk him around by promising the riches I personally could not guarantee (it terms of the result) I reluctantly accepted his decision. I have to say I was gutted. Here was my chance to give him what he?s never experienced, the sear adulation of kicking those horrible knobheads right where it hurts. As it turned out he was proved right.

So why am I 50 times the Evertonian I was on Thursday?

Here?s why:

As his ticket was going spare immediately created an EFC fan hierarchy in my head as to who his ticket would go it. To be honest it was a simple answer, his God Father Ste, somebody who I love and adore, thus was the immediate choice. But Ste didn?t get the ticket. It turned out Mark had confessed to his Mum he wasn?t going the game before he told me. She said he said he wasn?t sure how I?d take it. She told her best mate at work who?s fella was a massive blue but ?cos of money last year did not get his season ticket renewed. She had promised the ticket to Tommy.

Now I know Tommy, he?s a boss lad. But I really only knew him from afar. We?d bump into each other home and away and he was always really pleased to see me and I always wanted more time with him.

So I had mixed emotions. Ste Mark?s God father would have killed for the ticket and we would have had an amazing time. But Tommy was to have the ticket and I thought OK, cool here?s my chance to get to know him better.

(Now before I continue this story is not all man love for Tommy, no far from it. It?s total man love for Tommy and the 11 other lads who I now class as mates of mine).

The girls swapped Tommy?s and my mobile numbers and it wasn?t long before we were making plans for the weekend. He said, ?Look Karl why don?t you come down on the mimi bus that me and my mates are arranging. We are going on Friday and I promise ya they are all proper lads? I said ?Tommy, are any of them red?? ?Not a chance pal they are all top blues? Wow, OK then I thought, dope!

So as the plan was to meet at the Rocket Friday 10am I go there with time to spare, butties, beer and tooth brush at the ready. I was the first to arrive but within two or three minutes 4 lads turned up and stood some 5 yards away, I didn?t know who they were, no colours, just bags and beer. 5 minutes later 2 more arrived and I watched each and every one of them hug each other like they were about to take battle with the Germans in the trenches. It was pretty impressive. I turned away thinking, shit I?m staring here so focused on the Rocket across the divide and regrouped mentally. Tommy then text me to say he?s on his way: 5 minutes m8.

Cool, soon be on me way I thought. Then 2 other lads arrived and the same thing happens. They go to each other with real embrace. Hugs, high 5?s and I could here encouragement like, ?We can do this lad, it?s OUR time? I watched again and thought wow they are blue, so I scanned them thinking are they Tommy?s mates? Now at this point you may be thinking it?s obvious they are his mates ya dick.You are meeting him at the Rocket at 10am and going with his lads. But my point is there where little pockets of people all over the place so I wasn?t sure what the fuck to think.

The mini bus arrives and the boys separate the beer from their bags and dive on board. Tommy hasn?t arrived so I begin to fret. That energy burst was wasted as within a minute he and 3 other lads appear from the subway. Karl these are my mates. I shake hands and we follow suit by dropping our bags in the back and grab what seats are remaining.

Tommy then openly introduces me to all the lads on board and I sheepishly tried to look hard and cool, actually I?m a bit of both but neither.

We hadn?t got to Warrington and I was on my second tin. Call it Dutch courage if you like, I thought of it as enjoyment, as the banter and laughter was electric. The topic of conversation was obvious. This was our time. You could clearly see what it meant to each and every one of them. I thought blimey these boys are even more blue than me. Were they bitter? Yes fucking right they were! Were they bigots, absolutely not!

These where lads that knew what being an Evertonian really meant: Pride, dignity, passion, faith, belief, loyalty. I could write 100?s more adjectives about them, but you get the picture.

I was impressed, well impressed. They all looked amazing too, top clothes, top shoes, top hair and proper cool. They all had only one thing on their minds and destiny meant I was going to witness it with them.

By the time we reach Birmingham we are all dying for a piss and I?ve broke the ice with a couple of funnies, which went down well with the boys. So my confidence is up. I proceed to the get as much fluid out of myself and grab the chance to talk one-on-one with a couple of the lads.

Now I?m thinking here (as I type this) do I mention all their names individually? For dignity sake I will leave that to any of them if they wanna comment here at any point.

Anyway, back to the story, I get chatting with one or two of them close up and immediately think, fuck me he?s a top lad, fuck me he?s a top lad too!

The journey continues and the banter and belief is reinstated to maximum as we progress south. At which point I become the centre of attention as one of the lads asks me openly what my thought for tomorrow were. I used it as the opportunity to position myself as the person I thought I was, blue, proud and blind to anything else. It went down really well as the nods were even coming from the PNEFC supporting driver!

I had established myself in the pack but did not for one minute take that for granted.

The toilet breaks became frequent, much to the drivers announce but that wasn?t gonna stop the fun. Everywhere was blue. The services and motorways were honestly only one colour. I did see one car with two red scarfs which allowed me the opportunity to show them what I thought of them. For the full duration of the journey I get to hear stories of past away days, remember this, remember that. Fuck I could have listened to it for a lifetime. Some very funny, some very scary!

We arrive in London and checked into the hotel Tommy?s mate had set up for us all. 3 to a room lads OK? I am assigned a room with 2 of the lads and we drop our stuff off and promptly make our way to the Kilburn boozers. The pub crawl began in earnest and the boys demonstrated what it?s like to be a scouser. Cracking funnies to barmaids you never met, shaking hands with neutral drinkers who wanted us to been those ?Cheating bastards? (their words not mine).

It was proper good to be there, one pub followed another until someone said shouldn?t we eat something? So we dive into Witherspoons and get the scran ordered. One of the lads the waitress up and down, ?Love, can I have sauce, Love can I have another folk, love can I have, can I have that? She came back for the 5th time at which point I said, ?Bet you?re glad you?re not married to him? which had some of the lads spitting their food out in laughter.

It?s around 6pm and in that time I have seen literally hundreds and hundreds of cars on roads, people in pubs and lads in the services all blue. And only one red car with two scarves, then in walks the pub a lone cockney red, in his Liverpool top and tracky bottoms, looking like he?s ready to play if called upon. Little did he know this was the wrong pub to pop into. Apart from us lads there we pockets of 5 and 6 bunches of blues all over the pub.

We were alerted to his arrival of ?red and white shite?, from a bunch of blues who had the misfortune to spot him first. I promise ya he was crucified with banter. Yeah, big up to him he took it like a man and continued drinking his pint in the corner, until Tommy wanted a picture of him as he actually was the very first red he had seen in the entire day. The red obliged reluctantly. I said fuck this I want a picture too, which was also follow by requests from the majority of our crew, to which he got very fucked off and walked out, to us pissing ourselves. Yeah, he was the brunt of our jokes and the brunt of 45 years of my frustration.

But here is another reason why I?m 50 times the Evertonian I was before Friday. He represented everything I hate about Liverpool. He had no style but more importantly he no substance. Plastic was invented for him. Labone?s comment of 20 = 1 was never more true and rang in my ears. No look he is probably happy with his lot but it reminded me how I would hate to be associated with that kind.

Day went into night by which time Kilburn was completely awash with blues. Chat turned to song and the nerves begin to kick in as the chants reminded me why I was there. The highlight being one of our boys taking the Karoke to sing, ?I guess that?s why the call us the blues, which had me singing in Elton John style as loud as possible, whilst trying my hardest not to shed a tear.

My new mates where now coming up to me and hugging me like I watched them hug each other earlier in the day. Wow fucking wee, I?m one of them now!

The rest of the night is a blur until I get us all into trouble by sparking a Cockney knobhead out for saying something that pissed me off. Getting us all booted out! I should have known better. I apologized to everyone and half the lads said, ?Are well I?m fucked anyway?. Off back to the hotel in taxis.

Day follows night and we regroup over breakfast, me being the brunt of most of the the early morning banter. I took it and laughed with them but I could sense these boys were feeling what I was feeling, pressure about today.

The way you handle pressure says a lot about you in my book. I go quiet and focused. I suddenly felt an arm come around me and pull me to one side to look my new mate square in the eyes, he said, ?Karl lad, believe mate? It was like being given the kiss of life and awake to feel its incredible benefit. A seminal moment in my time on this planet and one that I may never forget! As the morning continued I was getting more and more comments to like that one from others in my company. I think they could see I was fearful and took it in turns to reinforce the character I had tried so hard to convey in the short time of knowing them.

Comradeship that united me to these lads was now cemented in full as we made our way slowly in the traffic to Wembley. Constantly being reminded how good it was to be chosen rather they manufactured, being reminded how important it was to know, that no matter what, you and me are very fucking special.

Seeing the stark differences between us and them as we made our way to the ground was unbelievable. I?m not racist or bigoted (if you think I am that?s up to you) but fuck me just look at them and look at us. We are not from the same planet, let alone the same town park. I?m not even sure if they speak the same language as us, it?s that much of a contrast.

We arrive at the ground and retained the group integrity at all costs, even though the need for an off license was paramount. To which point the alpha males of the group reminded us all why we are here today and to make yourself known when we spit up to all 4 points of our designated seating areas. It was an impromptu group meeting that clearly made our objectives and aspirations clear. "Believe boys believe".

This is where my story ends. Because of stag night commitments all the lads knew I was not coming home with them. So each one took it in turn to shake my hand hard and say thanks for everything and good luck pal.

I, along with Tommy split ranks hoping all our dreams would come true.

You know what, they didn?t come true on the day and yeah I am still dealing with that. But to be reminded over those 24 hours just how important and amazingly privileged it is to be an Everton fan means the absolute world to me.

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