I Was a Teenage Woolyback

Brings back a lot of memories.

Thanks for enlightening a depressing time.

We walked to the railway station (I think closed down now) and in the pub over the road ordered two half and halves. The barmaid said, "Half a crown" and I ordered two more. Rob asked why and I said at 1/3d for half a bitter and a whiskey why worry about the train.

Some of the regular contributors on here need to take a look at what a genuinely funny story can do to lift the spirit's during this awful time.

Like you, I went to a number of away games during the mid '70s, and in particular Elland Road. As you will remember, away fans used to occupy the old 'cowshed' end (it literally looked like a cowshed with a curved metal roof).

Leeds was always a toxic place to visit... out of all the old 1st Division grounds, you were guaranteed trouble, before, during and after the match at this venue.

The West Yorkshire police didn't help, they were heavy-handed, abusive and unapproachable.

I often wonder whether Revie had something to do with contributing to the atmosphere there, or I also have a theory that 'single club' cities are very much the same, Newcastle, Blackburn, can be very much like Leeds.

Anyway, I want to wrap up with a funny story. Me and my mate 'copped off' with two girls at Butlins in Pwllheli in the summer of 1973. They come from a little village not far from you, Anglezarke.

We arranged to meet them the following week when we got home. So off we went, two scousers on the bus to darkest Chorley, can't even remember how we got to the foothills of Lancashire, but it took us ages to find the farm where one of them lived.

For the record, we loved their local accent, and I think they loved ours; anyway, it was a short-lived romance as neither me or my mate could afford a car.

For the sake of my sanity... keep writing!

Question: can a Scouser such as me (born in Smithdown Road) become a woolyback? I have lived in Warrington for 40 years!

I was called a Woolyback once at the match. Nearly smacked the guy because I still feel a Scouser, even though, for various reasons (none deliberate), I never developed a full-blown accent.

Serious question for all of you genuine Scousers. I grew up in Birkenhead at that time, a place much more like Liverpool than, say, Heswall or West Kirby, and no sheep wandering around there at all as far as I can remember. But does that matter? Am I still a "Wool"? Or are "Birkonians" an honorable exception to the rule?

I'd say that Smithdown Road is a little bit too far out to be born a proper scouser, Ray & Rob, but that's because I was born in Everton!

It actually stems from when out-of-towners (non-Scousers) worked on the docks and weren't liked as they were taking a Scouser's job.
They would have wool on their backs from carrying bales of the stuff, hence "fuckin' Woollyback".

Another Sefton General Hospital baby here! Mum and Dad lived with my Nan and Grandad in Alderson Road after I was born. They, along with me, moved to Wigan when I was about 2 and they and I have been here ever since

I can relate to the original poster's story. I was the only Everton supporter in my school years in Wigan, apart from one other lad; most of my mates were either Man Utd or Liverpool fans and, as always, they never went the game. I used Eavesways Coaches to go to the away games I went to in the 80s.

My accent varies between broad Wigan and broad Scouse, depending whereabouts I am and who I am talking to! Living and working in Wigan, I am fluent in Woolyback but, as soon as I pass the Old Yorkshire Imperial factory on the East Lancs Road, my Scouse accent returns, albeit with a touch of wool still but, as soon as I see any family in Liverpool or get to Goodison, it's full Scouse! :-D

I was also one of those who had taken the better branches up the trees in Stanley Park for the Wimbledon game! :-D

"There's a wooly over there, over there,
And he's wearing brown air wear, brown air wear,
With a three-star jumper halfway up his back,
He's a fucking woolyback, woolyback"

Does anyone else remember this version, or have I got it wrong?

"There's a woolly over there, over there,
Baggy keks 'n greasy hair, greasy hair,
With a 3-star jumper halfway up his back,
He's a fuckin' woollyback, woollyback."

Stay safe, all hail null 'n void.

I wonder on matchday what the demographic is at Goodison Park?

I grew up with quite a scouse accent but left the area at 20 to live in Nottingham, then London for 10 years. I had a few scrapes in Nottingham due to my (Wirral) accent but, once in London, learnt how to get away with a passable cockney (if spoken to at a match).

It's funny thinking that us Wools from Wirral get just as much stick around the UK for our "Scouse" origins, yet still got stick from our close neighbours in the City. I have mates in Portsmouth and they would refer to people from nearby Gosport (across the little Solent) as Turks. Gosport residents have long endured the taunt of 'Turks' and the accolade of living in 'Turk Town'...

The term 'Turk Town' seems to have its origins in an incident dating to 1850 when two Turkish ships, seeking shelter in Portsmouth Harbour during a courtesy visit, were refused permission to land sailors at Portsmouth.
They also refer to people from the Isle of Wight as "Cork heads" – this either comes from the men hired to caulk the hulls of ships, or refers to a ship that sank in the Solent from which only Isle of Wight men survived, hence the term "Caulk" (Cork) heads.

So it's the same everywhere.

I was born in Garston, brought up near Penny Lane (Plattsville Road) and moved to Wirral (Thingwall) with family at age 18. I have lived in same house in Newton (near West Kirby) for the last 44 years.

I always thought the terms "scouser" and "wacker" were one and the same but have read that the great Dixie reckoned (ref John Keith's book "Dixie Dean") that "wackers" were Birkenhead born.

Can I dispute both of your recollections of the song - specifically line 2 - which I recall as:

Turned up jeans and brown Air wear

Closer to Rob's version but not identical.

To make matters worse, when I was a student (late 70s / early 80s) a couple of Preston fans knew another version – in which line 2 was slightly different again.

These pandemic times have me thinking whether in fact we are all correct but that the song mutated – and several strains emerged from the original and spread to different parts of the ground (I used to stand in The Paddock)? Perhaps a question for Prof Chris Witty or Patrick Valence?

The mutation takes me back to when Trevor Steven scored the third goal against Bayern Munich, because I've never heard so many songs getting sung from different parts of the ground at the same time. But it didn't matter if you was a mickey or a wool, because it was all about the joy of being an Evertonian that night!

The uniform of the day was oxblood "Marten's" with "Flemings" – anyone remember Flemings? – and a denim Wrangler jacket.

In my other life as a member of Merseyside Fire Brigade, I did many enjoyable detatched duties at Wessy Road, Bank Hall, Hatton Gardens, West Derby Road, Longmoor Lane, Storrington Avenue, Canning Place, Derby Lane... Met some great blokes and had many a laugh. Never went to the Deep South, Conleach Road, Banks Road, Belle Vale, only to pick up a spare appliance or drop one off.

I'm deffo getting old though because I thought I was looking like Chochi before this lockdown, but now I'm looking like Richie Cunningham's dad!

Me mate's mam worked in the shop by "The Assie".

Fantastic article by the way, Mick. Really funny.

I remember my Ma giving me the money for a pair, I think they lasted 3 weeks before the sole fell off. I think they were stitched on???

Green flash? The opposition woulda fell about laughin'.

I'm talkin' early '70s, 72-76 maybe.

Como brogues!

Tony, I think we're talking different times, mate. I'm talking about when I was around 16-18. You'd have been 4!!! 😂

I remember buying a pair then going into Denis's on Silvester Street to get me hair cut on the way home. I forgot to pick them up when I left.

I went back about 3 hours later and they were still there – A really bad sign that. If you left a pair of brand new kecks anywhere on Scottie and they were still there after 3 seconds, let alone 3 hours, you just knew you'd bought an exceptionally crap pair of kecks.

'Honorary Scouser', I'll take that. Thanks for the proposal Derek, and for the seconding Dave. And Dave, 'Fucking Sound' is as good a compliment as any there is! Cheers mate.

As for laughing at myself, I have plenty of material to work with, (bang on Colin G I must be a 'Divvy!) and if you can't laugh at yourself I don't think you have the right to laugh at anyone else. Some parts of our Country haven't got the hang of it yet.

Steve H, Bloody Hell Anglezarke! Even I would consider them Woolybacks.

I can't claim to know the true lyrics of the Woolyback song, when it's sung at you, then your reaction tends to be 'Oh fuck, here we go again!'

The fashion crimes of the seventies were numerous, but I missed out on 'Flemings', too radical for Blackrod I guess. I did however have a pair of two-tone 'Rupert' bags, complimented by platform shoes that had palm trees embossed on the side. I went to Brian Labone's testimonial in them and my mate's dad pissed himself the whole match through!

Thanks again.

You've just woken up a part of my brain that has been lying dormant for 40+ years... Como brogues, that was the name.

I thought I was the dog's bollocks with them, me and half the population of Liverpool lads.

Available in black or brown only.

In the film The Full Monty, set in Sheffield, the Robert Carlyle character refers to ‘kegs' for trousers. That's the nearest I've ever heard anywhere. In fact it's the only thing I've heard anything vaguely similar.

I hope you continue posting and even join in a silly argument or two. You are a hell of a writer, and with your history your contributions would be highly valued. Please come play with us once in a while.

Good job he had bin bags, and one of our other mates lived opposite St George's Church. He ran up the hill and me mates dar was at the front door. "Let me in quick" he shouted, and he quickly became me mate's dar's best mate, because he said he'd never laughed so much in years!

We walk with a wiggle and...

Doing the Everton boot walk.

Anyone who remembers the song can maybe fill in the blanks.

Old timers is kicking in these days but I remember it so well now.

Loved my Crombie. Bought it from a forces apparel shop somewhere near London Road.

Was a real quality one, unlike the cheapo one's sold in fashion shops of the day.

Or was it a personal statement on your part?

Dennis the barber, a good Friary lad from Prince Edwin Street. I think he had a shop by Liverpool's ground as well.

You should go on "In the attic". They're worth a fortune now, especially the Ben Shermans.

I actually raided my dad's wardrobe for a Crombie and a trilby. Those were the days. Wish I had taken some photos.

I had a pair, and when the sun shone in the right direction, they kinda shimmered green and purple!!

I must have looked like one of those rare amazon 'birds of paradise'... I was so proud of them, 28'' waist as well at the time.

I don't know if it was the same hairdresser but there used to be a "Dennis's" in Falkland Street. He used to specialise in Perry Comos.

Before that, I used to go to Leo Cotters in Soho Street.

Leo Cotter, his first shop was in William Henry Street before he moved to Soho Street. with his son Don, he had competition in William Henry Street from Charlie Jackson's shop, Charlie used to give you a sweet when he finished, so I went there.

Further evidence of pandemic mutation in song lyrics again. The version heared from The Paddock as follows:

Line 1: Like a bow-legged chicken or a knock-kneed hen;

Line 2: Paul Tran's recollectIon accords with mine.

Lines 3 & 4: Agree with Brian.

That second line had any number of versions depending on which one of us reached it first and sang loudest – oh, and how much we'd had to drink!

There was a version involving a cat but not for publishing on here. 😷

I now firmly believe Old Timers is kicking in.

You are absolutely correct, it was Maxies but I did go to a Dennis's and now I think about it. I believe it was opposite the new Royal Infirmary.

My Dad and most of his family lived in William Henry Street and he used to take me to Leo's as a kid. I do believe he gave sweets out then too; he must have learned a trick from Charlie.

Isn't nostalgia a great thing, especially at the moment?

Street End boys we are here
Oh, oh,
Street End Boys we are here
Oh, oh
Street End Boys we are here
Shag your women, drink your beer,
Oh,, oh, oh, oh,...

That must have been some trick

I was born in Granville Road, moved out 1986, one of few blues.

What years were you there?

Thanks for the info. Yes, having lived away from the region a long time, I had completely forgotten about 'Wacker'. Wackers of the world unite!

The barber's you're talking about opposite the Royal was definitely David's. I think he might have been of Italian descent. A number of Liverpool and Everton players used to go there to get their hair cut, judging by their collection of black and white photo's in the window.

I remember asking him to cut my hair like David Johnson's... came out looking more like Quasi Modo.

youre absolutely right: it was David's. I'm confusing my Dennis's with my Maxie's and David's. Mind that woopsie on the carpet.

A lot of people outside of the area would address you as Wack.

I remember quite a few occasions people would say to me "Alright, Wack".

Is right. He also had one just off County Road too.

And Jay, you may be correct too. He did branch out a bit and, although he turned out to a fine barber, in the early days he was very much a one-trick pony. People would queue for ages for his "Perry Como".
I thought we looked super cool until a couple of school mates from Norris Green came down (coz we could get in the ale houses at 15/16) and one of them noted, "What's going on round here? Everyone's got the same fucken 'ead!"

There were alternatives. There was arl Murray who was next to the Europa, but you learned to give him a very wide berth by the time you were 11. He wasn't averse to giving you a proper slap round the head if you couldn't keep your head still. He was strictly for the arl fellas...

And there was Jack Gunion down by Dryden Street next to Vernon's. Jack walked with a heavy limp, if I remember. He was a decent barber, but he covered a massive area and was always choca, by the time you got your hair cut, you'd have been into town, got your haircut, did a bit of shopping and back again.

Denis`s apprentice, Tommy "Torbo" has cut hair on Scottie for over half a century.

Did you seriously ask the barber to cut your head like David Johnson's, Steve@85? Funny I remember being in the enclosure, and Johnson was warming up to come on as a sub, during the start of Howard Kendall's first reign.

Someone in the crowd shouted, “Make sure you have a go when you get on, Chickenhead!” Everyone started laughing and David gave a very meek "Fuck-off you'!

I was watching him on old footage the other day, scoring two for England against Argentina in the game a very young Maradona tormented the English defence, and can only say that the barber done you a favour, because Johnson definitely did have a head like a chicken!

Mine did.

Tony (95), I think you were with me when Kendall tried to sub him, the No 9 came up and he just ignored it. After a couple of minutes, the board got changed to a No 7 and Alan Irvine went off instead. I don't know what the consequences were over that.

Must be your brother... say hello!

Yes, I did. The other option was Alan Whittle who also had his picture in the window, and he had a head like a jar of 'mad worms'... my ma's saying for anyone with curly hair.

Yes, it was definitely David's, I used to go in there regularly for quite a few years. I think David was Greek, not Italian, and he was big mates with many of the players. But I only ever saw Liverpool players in there... mainly Phil Neal and Ray Clemence.

Link

We produced more boxers than farmers:

Link

And the odd footballer

Link

My first match travelling with Eavesways was Coventry in 76, when Duncan McKenzie and Bruce Rioch made their debuts in a 4-2 defeat. From then onward, I had many away trips with Eavesways, travelling home from Coventry in 77 and Wolves 78 in particular stick in my mind, freezing cold, due to the lack of glass in our coach windows.

As does the 1977 League Cup Final when, if I remember correctly, our former manager Billy Bingham, his wife and teenage daughters had the dubious pleasure of being stuck in a traffic jam behind our coach.

For all home matches at that time, a large group of us from Orrell would congregate on the Gwladys Street terrace beside the pole on the Paddock side of the main pole, the main pole being the one always occupied by the striped jumper supporter who led the singing.

I have many good memories of supporting Everton at that time, we had some great footballing teams in the late '70s and generally there was good-natured banter between ourselves and fellow supporters, but I can't help feeling a little bit of animosity was aimed in our direction whenever the Woolyback song was aired.

I remember Blue Kipper used to do a spot on Shouts from the crowd.

Always a funny slot.

Who said nostalgia isn't what it used to be..?

He said that now football needs a reset on wages and agents, and he hoped things would change in the future.

Seriously though, he was and probably is a very decent bloke but he screwed Everton over when he didn't have to.

Or maybe it was 'If only he was brave'? It was skitting a kopite I think?

The trains were operated more like buses with a conductor collecting the fares so I'd get on in Newcastle and pretend to be asleep when the conductor came around. He wouldn't wake us up.

So, on getting into Hartlepool station, I'd nip into the station bogs until the ticket collector had buggered off and then head out. But not before rooting in his ticket bin for a Newcastle to Hartlepool fare ticket.

The return journey after the match was the same but, on arrival at Newcastle, I'd hand in the ticket I'd picked up in Hartlepool.

I looked up your link to boxing and remember Pat McAteer, a good boxer fighter, and his fight against Liverpool's Billy Ellaway. I was only in my early teens and failed to bunk in that night, but stayed outside. It was a full house, a local Derby fight, which Pat won pretty easily on points.

He emigrated to America, well rated in boxing circles as was his cousin Les, who also won the British middleweight title. Les had two brothers who also boxed, Neil and Gordon. Neil became a bizzie and promoted to detective later on, stationed in Liverpool.

I also knew a good boxer and cracking fella, Eugene de Foe, he worked in Camel Lairds. I liked him a lot, very genuine and funny. So I've got to admit Birkenhead is not all bad, but don't tell Brian Williams I said that!!

I was not far away, born and bred behind the shops on Hunts Cross Avenue but got the bug and traveled for what started out as an intended few months but lasted years and repeated a few times. Age and health means I don't get back too often these days.

I also believe Pat was Uncle to Jason McAteer who played for Liverpool back in the late 90s early 2000s. A sporting family!

To Scousers, I was a woollyback... and to the woollybacks, I was a scouser.

I was a child of the mid to late '60s side and onwards and, until Uni and working abroad called in 1975, went to most games by coach, motorbike and often by hitchhiking with hardly a penny.

Interesting about the term wacker or whacker? I thought it was in common use in mid '60s Liverpool which was a great place.

You lot need to get out less.

There was a story about Jason. One day in Liverpool, resplendent in a purple leather suit, he decided to jump the queue at a checkout in a store in the city centre.

The girl at the checkout told him to wait his turn, whereupon he responded with ‘Do you know who I am?'

The girl turned to her mate at the next checkout and said, “Eh, Mary, there's a feller here who doesn't know he is”

Exit a chastened Jason.

I'm convinced it's true.

However, to digress a little, I actually met Jason McAteer on holiday in Bermuda back in 1999.

We were on the beach with my two lads who were football crazy and there on the beach, kicking a ball around, was McAteer with Teddy Sheringham and Jamie Redknapp!

Of course we steamed in and they let my lads kick around with them for a good 15 minutes or so. Needless to say, my lads, Evertonians (age 8 and 10 at the time), ran rings round them!!

To be honest, they were all very friendly and gracious and autographed a football we had and gladly let us take pictures with them. Later on that week, we were on the beach and they were all sunbathing behind us, Jamie's wife Louise was there and a grey-haired guy who I recognized but couldn't quite place immediately. Turned out it was Bruce Rioch.

As I say, they were all very friendly but I have to say Jamie Redknapp was an absolute gent, even for a Red!

What's more, I came out of it with Honorary Scouse Citizenship, and to quote Dave A, that's "Fucking Sound"!

Absolutely fascinating and often hilarious posts followed mine. I feel I have learned a fair bit of Scouse social history through them and the thread is certainly a happy one.

Many thanks again for going easy on the Wool. Good health to you all.

Mick.

Don't be mistaken,
Don't be mislead,
You're not a scouser,
You're Birkenhead!!

No matter how early you set off for an away game, either by coach or car, there was always a Sunnyways (or something like that name) on a coach, that always beat you to the coach park. They must set off the night before...

Forgive me if I am dreaming this second part, blame it on the old grey brain cells, but pretty certain there used to be a double-decker bus at some of the away games parked up.

Speaking of Eavesway, Mick, I went the League Cup tie at home to Wolves in the early 90s. We won 4-1 with Beagrie netting.

There were only about 5 coaches there when we got there, one from Flynt, the other three from the Midlands. When we approached the coach after the game, they were all the way down to the bottom of Priory Road, mostly Wolves coaches.

We were wedged in between the coaches, no way of leaving until the front coaches moved, so had to sit there with the coach being rocked, spat on, you name it – it was pure hell.

At last, we finally managed to set off but not before we were greeted at the bridge by the police station, before you get to the lights at Queens Drive, by a barrage of bricks and stones by our own fans.

To be fair, it was limited as they noticed the blue scarfs on the coach, which followed a half-hearted mimed sorry.

Those that were rocking and spitting on our coach were in for a surprise when they got to the bridge.

These days, I live a couple a miles away from you in the Chorley direction, but until my mid-twenties I lived in a village a mere 15 miles from Goodison Park.

I never thought of myself as a woollyback, probably because my wartime-evacuee mother was born ½ mile from the ground and all my maternal relatives were Evertonians.

I have always thought of Liverpool as my home city although I have never lived there, yet I have always found it surprising that Scousers have such great difficulty identifying other local accents.

Many years ago, c 1965, walking up to the ground from Kirkdale Station with some friends, as usual wearing our blue-and-white scarves, a local asked us how long our journey had taken us. He was amazed when we said “half an hour” (still steam trains in those days).

We were playing Sheffield Wednesday and he thought we were away supporters. As a proud Lancastrian and half-scouser, I wasn't impressed.

Back in the 70s and early 80s, there was always the wollyback that grated away at me, "How dare they treat me as an outsider?" when we followed the same team home and away; it was tough on us wollybacks to take.

Anyway, since then and numerous visits to a Liverpool, I have never felt a more welcoming place; it does not matter who you are, whether you go on your own, you will always find people welcoming you with open arms.

When I worked on the trains at Wigan, there was one self-obsessed Man Utd supporter, nothing but 'scouser' quips and the usual. I pulled him up and asked "Have you ever been for a night out around Liverpool?" His face turned into Cosmo small piece, a Les Dawson sketch to the younger generation.

Anyway, he agreed to go, he was blown away, could not believe how great it was. He still follows Man Utd, but now visits Liverpool most weekends and thanked me for what he now calls his 'pick me up' weekender.

I never had the slightest doubt he would like it. I never tire of visiting the City, nothing better than going in the pubs and everyone welcoming, met so many people not just at the game, but around the City as well.

Mathew Street, I am like a dog with two dicks: Flanigan's Apple, Grapes, for a while Rubber Soul but seems to have gone downhill.

There is a good one as you come out of Mathew Street at the top end near McCartney's Hotel, turn left out of Mathew Street, cross over the road then the first left side street, there's a double pub with a coach yard in between them both... for the life of me, I cannot remember the name of the pub.

Before Mathew Street, our first and last port of call is the Crown, then Yates etc.

Once this lockdown has been and gone, I will look forward once again to visiting Liverpool.

Everyone's tongues out, and I'm talking about boozers, probably because I've never been one for drinking in the house.

Your last para reminds me of my father who always said he didn't drink "Fenders'. It took more than a few years to find out "Fenders" used to be a company that delivered to your home.

I drink for the company, a laugh and the crack, and even with the sunshine we're currently receiving, I'd sooner do lockdown sober because I find it boring drinking in the house.

I had a cracking vape, it's even legal in parts of America, and although it was great for my back-pain, it was giving me a really bad chest, unfortunately!

Maybe the pubs will open in August, long after the football season is over, because if I have to listen to those fuckers celebrating forever, then I will probably end up drinking in the house!

The pub is the 'Croc' in Harrington Street. Last season, it was one of the few remaining pubs in the city centre where you could watch Everton away games 'live' on the dodgy 'streams'.

On the subject of away games, the two most prominent coach firms operating every two weeks in the 70s were 'Home James' and 'Sunniways'. Although I used to see Eavesway as well, but not sure they did many trips picking up in Liverpool?

God knows how those companies made any money because very often all the windows would be 'put through' on a regular basis at certain grounds, Man United, Leeds etc.

"The Back Entry Diddlers?" That wouldn't get past the censors now, would it?

Brian @135...

I had the same problem many times on the coaches that used to come from the Northwich area in Cheshire as, when we played Man Utd, the coaches had many United as well as Everton fans. Us Everton fans were all from Liverpool, descent but spoke more like Mancs.

Yes, it was alright going to Old Trafford and Main Road, even Leeds, without scarfs due to not having scouse accents, we got away with blending in on the way to the ground.

Anyway, after years of following Everton, he got fed up of his own supporters turning on him and started following Wigan Athletic.

Always bump into him when we go watching Everton at Wigan, but there's no chance of him ever going to Goodison again watching Everton.

My own experience of it was with the Dubliners, an Irish band. I was asked what I thought about it and I thought it was rather tasteless with maybe a hint of potato but not wanting to upset anyone said, "Yeah, quite nice." 30 seconds later, this bloody volcano took off from inside. Never had anything like it before or since, and I've tried some muck.

I can relate to a lot having, on occasion, been branded a 'Southport Wool'.

Interesting this concept doesn't appear to translate to our Scandinavian, red-supporting brethren.

Were you a guard or a driver, Colin? Just trying to picture you, mate.

We're all Evertonians, right, and what some of the more home-based fans may realise is that Evertonians with different accents may actually be from staunch Scouse-based families that had moved to other parts of the country or globe but had retained their heritage and roots.

That aside, why would we not want to encourage people from other parts of the country or globe to follow our fantastic club? That's what sets you apart from being a purely local club to one that has reach beyond.

Greg Anderson @ 15. A very good point. I've always considered Birkenhead as part of the wider City of Liverpool / Scouse community. We missed a trick in being so insular (hence the “Wool” thing), whereas Manchester stole a march with it's “Greater Manchester” approach and is now effectively the nation's second city region.

One thing that always struck me though, Greg, was the key difference between the Liverpool side & Birkenhead side of the river; the pronunciation of “o” in words like “Coke”. Birkenhead side, men pronounce it in the feminine Scouse vernacular. That is by no means meant to put this into a sexist debate, but has anyone else ever noted that?

He was very close to being right!

I remember a game, Everton v Spurs, this Spurs supporter was with his girlfriend when a big fella, a Bluenose, started giving him loads. The lad in his late teens had the sense to ignore him, but that didn't satisfy the bully, he went over and gave the Spurs fan a couple of heavy blows that put him down.

I ran over and got in front of the kid, mostly to save him from any further blows, but another fella I knew came over and said to the kid “Get up, mate, have a go at him. No-one else will join in, you'll be fighting a shithouse.” The bully gave a glare at the lad I knew but walked away without any further bother, like the shitpot he was.

The Cockney kid was a bit shook-up and I told him to walk along with me and instead of walking back to Lime Street for his train along Scotland Road. I took him along Netherfield Road and waited with him until a bus came which would drop him off outside the station.

As I said the bullies always pick their marks, and usually as part of a gang; on their own, they are useless.

Although born in Liverpool, we moved to my mum's home town, Bradford, when I was 4. (1967). My mates in the Gwladys Street call me a woollie too.

Some of those memories are shared. I saw Drew Brand play for Crewe at Bradford where I used to go as a lad because I couldn't get to Goodison. He let 5 in there as well. I met him a few years ago. He was working for the police in Cheshire.

I've not been as lucky with my sons. 2 aren't really into football. But one of them is as biased a blue as I am.

We get to as many games as we can and the state of the team, transfer rumours etc are always top topics between us.

I compare every team we see to the 85 vintage. Hopefully he, and yours will get something to really cheer about once the world gets back to normal.

There are not many players we are going to let go and get a decent transfer for, most are coming to the end of their contracts.

Most other teams in the Premier League will take stock and keep what they have; others will be selling, but not for the price before the epidemic. This is where Everton can pick up some players at a fraction of the cost before all of this.

There will also be some leeway in regards to FFP so, by the time it commences next year, we will be able to get a lot more players off our books and balance the FFP a lot more in our favour.

Add to the new ground – and believe me, with the economy the way it is, the new stadium is a cert to be accepted, to help easy the economy and jobs – everything is going in the right direction for Everton a Football Club.

All we need now is to find a vaccine and end this awful pandemic.

I wish I shared your optimism with regards to the immediate future. I honestly can't see the new ground at BMD being started this year, not at a cost of 𧺬m plus, with the future of all financial institutions in disarray at the moment.

Lenders will be re-evaluating all their previous commitments in the months ahead as the future of all major commercial developments may well be mothballed until the markets have settled down.

On the player front, and this applies to Everton as much as anyone else, we will find it incredibly difficult to move the 'high earners' on, such as Sigurdsson, Bolasie, Walcott, as any potential clubs will be simply put off by the size of their current contracts, and I don't know any player's who will move on willingly for less money.

My guess many will just sit tight for the next 12 months.

We will not make on them, but at last we can get them off our wage bill and by the summer of 2021, most will have left or at least taken off the wage bill.

It may well be next year before we can get the ground moving, but with so much money and jobs created in the area, I honestly think this will give Everton, a stronger case for the new ground.

Thanks very much for your commendably "inclusive" outlook and for the fascinating sociolinguistic detail! I hadn't realized there were male and female variants of Scouse.

More generally, I suppose I have always been puzzled by Birkenhead's very low profile in popular consciousness. It's a pretty big place that's given the world no end of Ark Royals, His Supreme Dixieness, numerous other sports heroes, legends of the arts, the very model for Central Park in NY, and somewhere for the "Ferry 'Cross the Mersey" to actually go to. But hardly anyone ever talks about it in the national press.

And even on this site, few people ever confess to being from there that I've noticed. Why, I wonder?

Not to mention Half Man Half Biscuit.

A bit related to Birkenhead. The third series of Auf Wiedersehen Pet is just replaying, the one where they dismantle the transporter bridge in Middlesbrough.

There's a funny exchange between a Liverpool villain, Micky Startup, played by Paul Angelis, and a hitman he wants to hire to kill Moxey, one of the intrepid builders.

It goes like this:

MS: "So you'll kill Moxey then?"

HM: "Listen, I'm a Tranmere Rovers supporter. I was brought up in the shadow of Everton and Liverpool. Like a poor relation. Looked down on. It caused me to have feelings of great resentment and spite."

MS: "I'll take that as Yes, then."

All done completely deadpan and very funny.

Although having spent the earlier part of my childhood away from Liverpool, both parents were scousers, so I really picked up on it and noticed it even more when we re-settled in Liverpool.

The interesting thing is, on the Birkenhead side of the river, they all use the “female” pronunciation. That's not to be discriminate to our Wirral cousins, just a random linguistic geek observation!!!!

Hopefully someone on here can back me up, or conversely tell me I'm talking utter nonsense!!