The Big Yin... and Yang

October 1994 and news that the Toffees had signed Ferguson and Glasgow Rangers team mate Ian Durrant on loan had created a buzz of interest among Blues fans. Durrant had been a very classy midfielder before rupturing his ACL and was looking to reignite his career away from Ibrox while Ferguson was carrying baggage as well as bags of raw ability. Mike Walker would be praying they could arrest his sides poor start to the season.

Everton were down the bottom of the table in the league and had lost the first leg of their League Cup tie at home to Portsmouth. The second leg at Fratton Park would be Ferguson's debut and this would be followed by a second game on the south coast at Southampton on the Saturday.

“Fuck it, we're going Woodsie, am gonna get James to find us a weeks work down there” said Wayne nephew of James one of my oldest friends. This was 1994 we were 22 years old, bullet-proof; we lived for going the match, all-nighters at Cream and playing Sunday league footy. Oasis were breaking out and we were just mad for anything. I don't want to talk about James's business, but I will say that everything we were doing was legit!

So off we went, in search of the Pompey Chimes. Everton playing away were in a white kit from memory and Ferguson just looked like a skinny beanpole. Obviously a few tidy touches but there was not a great deal to get excited about if I am honest. I can't even remember if Durrant played.

Everton drew the game and Dave Watson scored but we were out, heaping more pressure on Walker.

As young still pretty optimistic Evertonians who had seen the great 80s sides we had a feeling that things would get better and always saw the League Cup as Mickey Mouse, to be honest. So game over and we are staying down for the Southampton game so we mill around after the match to go and speak to the players.

Ages after the game, we find Neville Southall stood outside the team coach. Arms folded, Nev is a colossus. He is just thick set, totally solid. Absolutely amazing how agile he was, even then as an ageing keeper.

“Hey Nev, where are you going later? Are you going for a pint?” I say.

“Fuck off, going out? We just got beat. I'm going to fucking bed lads,” replies the Welshman.

“Fucking hell, are you going to bed?” Me taking the piss.

“Yes, I'm fucked,” Southall confirmed.

“What about the lads?” I ask.

Southall by now is warming to us, he knows we are a couple of clowns down on the south coast, but I think he senses we are not trouble.

“Look we are staying in Bournemouth and I know Waggy is meeting his brother with some of the lads.”

“Thanks, Nev, that's all we need to know, we'll do the rest…”

22 years old. You don't give a fuck about anything.

“That's us, Woodsie, follow that coach!”

So we tail the Everton Team Coach to a hotel in Bournemouth and then 5 mins later two taxis turn up and half a dozen footy players still in tracksuits jump in with a couple of older blokes who look like either directors or players' parents?? So off we go again and follow the taxis into Bournemouth and eventually we end up in a nightclub.

The players are in two groups: Vinny Samways, Graham Stuart, Durrant and Ferguson are in one. Durrant is absolutely mental, even before a drink, while Ferguson appears quite shy. In the other group is Dave Watson with his brother who played for Bournemouth at the time, Ian Snodin and a couple of suits. It looked clear that Watson was top fella, a quiet unassuming guy with a massive physical presence.

We speak with the young Scot, Ferguson. He's pleasant and makes a complimentary comment that's it's great we are down there supporting the lads. Naturally we are buzzing.

We then got into a mad convo with a Matt Jackson. He had just turned up, was bevvied, and was wearing a suit. He told us he got news at a team meeting he wasn't in the squad and had packed a sad, went straight into the bar at Fratton Park and had been bevvying since kick off!!!

Where did this all end?? Well, it never has. The love affair started that night and Duncan Ferguson has been in our hearts ever since.

Fast forward to April 1997 and Duncan was at it again. This time at Upton Park. This was to be my last match before I headed away to travel around the Indian Himalaya for 3 months. (This will become relevant later.) 2-0 down and fighting again for our lives down the bottom of the league. A last-minute Ferguson goal grabbed a vital point and sent the travelling hordes into ecstasy. Southall had saved a penalty to turn the game on its head and Micheal Branch had reduced the deficit before Duncan hooked into the roof of the net.

On 1st May 1997, it was Election Day in the UK. It was brilliant sunshine as again Wayne drove me to Manchester airport and I departed to spend the next 3 months in India. I had long wanted to travel, but I was also very unhappy. I had been hit in a car crash in London 12 months prior although not seriously injured I ended up getting some compensation. It wasn't a huge amount but was enough for a flight to India and although I was terrified heading towards the airport, there was no backing out!! Wayne god bless him sneaked some photos of the lads into my backpack and the joy of this discovery while in India was overwhelming.

So I left the UK. Labour swept into power and I took off on an epic adventure that would transform my perspective on life forever. In the foothills of the Indian Himalaya I had a direct experience that made me become aware of the power of spirit. I had one evening where I slept in a cave with some local goat herders. The following day we walked off the snow line and into a dense forest with two of the guys and we went to his family home.

The home was very simple, super basic. Inside the house there was no furniture there was a cupboard with some rolled up mats that the family slept on.

In this empty room his wife brought in some bowls and a stove which she had been working with outside. His daughters then appeared who had also been preparing food outside. Then we all sat together and they shared their food with me. These people had nothing really materially in a western sense. But what they did have was love. Love for not only each other but a loving nature. I could feel this. They were also happy, there was no stress or anxiety. They lived a very simple basic life, but it was enough.

Now, what does all this have to do with Everton and Duncan Ferguson??

Well a couple of weeks ago when Everton lost to Norwich I felt the lowest I have ever felt supporting Everton. It seemed to me a collective feeling of hopelessness. Another complete fucking let down, money down the pan, just a nightmare. The defeat at Anfield was expected and lead to Silva's exit. Next there are rumours Davey Moyes is in line for the job, and that's it for me. If Moyes comes that's me done, is what was going through my mind.

Now hopefully this is where I can bring things together. That collective feeling among Evertonians was very real. But that enormous dark cloud was lifted by a giant blue heart. Only one man could have lifted this club from that nightmare. Duncan Ferguson has let himself down a number of times as a young man but what is not in any doubt is what an unbelievable Evertonian he is. His big heart, his big LOVE, his passion connected with the players and fans and we resurrected ourselves from hell. Make no mistake, this is the power of LOVE.

Carlo Ancelotti has now moved into the top job and Duncan has been given a role as his assistant. Interestingly one of Ancelotti's first comments was that the club needs togetherness, the patience and support of the fans. I completely agree, but how can we practically help with this?

Duncan Ferguson has already shown us the way. Through love. The hard part comes on Sunday. We are so desperate to beat our neighbours in the FA cup but I believe we never help ourselves due to the hate we have for them. The amount of hate we have for them ruins all our own positive energy we can give to the team.

The universe is made up a waves and partials of electromagnetic energy and the heart is the greatest creator of this energy in the human body. We need to direct all our love towards Everton on Sunday. FFS you only have to watch Star Wars to see hate drives you to the dark side!!!

We simply have to accept Liverpool are where they are. To be honest, it's a disgrace that it's taken them 30 years and billions to win the title again. More than anything the only way they are gonna start taking notice of us is if we start winning.
One team, One Love, we are Everton!!!

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