Home Awayday

Everton 3 - 1 Burnley

Well, once again, not wanting to steal Paul Traill's chips, I thought I'd post about my trip for last night's game. To be fair, I suppose I can do a reverse of his fine away reports as I have to do the opposite when I make the 410-mile round-trip to Goodison Park for a home fixture.

Apologies in advance if some of this repeats what I posted on some of the match threads yesterday. I'll stay away from the football as that is more than covered by Lyndon's & Michael's reports and the associated comments as always. I said yesterday and have before, but I still don't know how you do it, Michael!

With tickets bought a couple of weeks ago but not declared to my better half, I left myself right in the proverbial dog house by only declaring with 24 hours notice that I was travelling and stopping over in Liverpool. She knows me, she'll forgive me (I think). She'll do what she always does and take the equal amount I expended out of the bank account. Expensive business, Everton. But they're worth it.

So, dogs walked at 6:30 am as always, a nod from both that we were going to win (one more optimistic than the other) and then me heading off to London with my tail between my legs as this really hadn't gone down well. From my perspective, I'm now fortunate enough to be able to go and see Everton more regularly than I have been due to my previous occupation. To my good lady, I'm apparently behaving like the child she knew when she first met me (I was actually 20). To me, I've never changed. Circular argument and discussion.

Wetherspoons, Marks & Spencers at Euston and onto the train. Totally messed up with the type of ticket I purchased, so there's another hit to the wallet. I had arranged to meet a couple of the ToffeeWeb gang at the Saddle Inn, and the plan was to check into the Atlantic Tower first to drop my daypack off but, due to some work stuff, I was a bit later than I wanted to be.

So straight to the Saddle Inn it was and the daypack was going the match with me, laptop and all. Arriving at Lime Street and, in my wisdom, I thought I'd get a train to James Street and catch a taxi. I realised that I am a spoiled London resident who just thinks you can go around tapping your phone or card everywhere to pay for stuff, but the rather robust station lady told me I had to actually buy a ticket. But got there for a swift one with Peter & Co before walking to the ground. Should have just got a taxi from Lime Street.

Now, I'm delighted and excited about our plans to move to Bramley-Moore Dock, but there's something special about Goodison Park at night under the lights. Three days off my 50th, it was as magical to me last night as it was when I was 7 years old. Once we got going, the atmosphere was electric in a way that only Goodison can deliver. We're no choir and we don't have a songbook like our red cousins or others, but on our day we are a wall of noise and sheer passion.

After the match and negotiating a few tricky Burnley fans, I opted for a nostalgic walk across Stanley Park to go to my Grandad's old local, the Arkles. There were a few blues in that red pub, but also a few red locals talking about us getting carried away and how hypocritical we are about Benitez. Whatever. I'll judge him towards the end of the season. Bitter Reds.

Eventually grabbed an Uber and made it back to the hotel for a very late check-in. Quick power nap (4 hours) then a walk across the city centre meeting some interesting characters still finishing their night out and some hard-as-nails Seagulls before catching the early train back to London.

A long and expensive 24 hours but, as always with Everton, worth every penny and every minute. Aston Villa next but, as some of you know, that fixture puts me in even more dodgy ground than defying marital "advice" and "getting down to Goodison Park". Oooohhh!

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