Better late than never

Everton 2 - 0 Chelsea

How the British transport network seems to conspire against you when you dare to cross the country from one side to the other. On Friday evening, after 6 hours on a train and some difficulties finding our dubious accommodation, we arrived in Liverpool for the first time in our lives. The trip had been organised by my 17-year-old son, who used his scrupulously saved pocket money to surprise me for my 50th birthday… he's going to struggle to top that.

I was chosen in 1989 after watching the FA Cup Final at boarding school – we didn’t play football. I realised that everyone I couldn’t stand was supporting Liverpool, proving instantly that kopites are gobshites everywhere. I sat with the one dude with a blue shirt on and that was the start of my life as an Evertonian.

My son took a while, but boy, he got bitten hard when it happened. He grew up in Africa, and we lived in places where getting the internet would mean driving up a hill and balancing a laptop on a rock, so he didn’t have much to go on.

It was Richarlison who did it for him after Covid forced us into rejoining the world of TV and the internet, about the only good thing to come from that. Now he is like a mini HITC sevens podcast, with his obscure knowledge of the lower leagues and a passion for all things Blue. He is not institutionally angry yet, but I am working on it, 15 years of reading ToffeeWeb will not go to waste.

We woke the following morning early, determined to make the most of the day. Set off to the Albert Dock to have a look around then walked up to Bramley-Moore Dock along the river. How awesome to walk up past that Tobacco Warehouse area, imagining the scenes that will unfold here in days to come. Fairly wet and cold by now, we called an Uber and headed to the ground.

Asked security about the team bus, and the two guys, convinced we were Chelsea fans, told us it wasn’t a special game, so no bus, and then repeated the directions to where the Chelsea team bus would come in, just in case.

Had an early Guinness in the Winslow and walked through the surrounding area in a bit of a daze taking it in. Met two cheeky buggers in the park suggesting we were photographing the wrong stadium, thus we promptly informed a camera-laden tourist that he too was doing the same when asking for directions to Mordor, 1-1.

It was bloody freezing, so we went to the Gwladys Street entrance, where we blissfully spent an hour in the wrong seats, with fantastic views, watching the lads come out, my lad looking out in childish wonder.  A lovely chap turned up to point out our seats were actually in Row NN.

My boy, obviously crestfallen: he paid £180 for “unrestricted views” on the seemingly official resale site. Having watched a bit of Vanarama and League Two football though, we enjoy the back of the chicken shed atmosphere with the lads, and I would have sat on the roof if needed. 

Scrappy first half, Chelsea didn't look that threatening to me after those early shots, interesting how different the highlights look. I only saw one of the Pickford saves, but a great one too, I think from Palmer. How he has come on from a couple of years ago – I am starting to really like him.

The crowd was flat, the Chelsea fans making all the noise, and whilst I thought we looked okay, if understandably leggy, we didn’t look that threatening either. Then in the second half, we started to get into the groove all of a sudden, McNeil drawing an excellent save from the keeper, after the Harrison miss which finally got the crowd going. We could feel it coming.

Then Dom hits it straight at the keeper, shades of Newcastle, groans turn to a roar in an instant. A snooker shot from Doucoucré, boy has he improved his technique and movement. Absolute mayhem. My boy hugging everyone around him, face shining, undoubtedly one of the moments of the day. With Young going off, I felt a little better, he looked a bit suspect, again. 7 minutes injury time, really? 

After a couple of Mudryk runs, I thought we looked fairly in control. Mykolenko outstanding again (who knew) and our season changed the moment we brought Branthwaite in, I hope we can keep him. Great to see Onana back, hope he can bring consistency to his game.

It looked like we might just see this out at that, with Chelsea offering little, when we got the corner and it fell for Dobbin to sweep it in. It set up so nicely for him, what a great finish, could so easily have snatched at it, great slide. Nice chant for Beto at the end too, got an affinity for him and really hope he is given a chance.

We stayed on a good half an hour at the end, got to sing ourselves hoarse, then finally exited into the dark, elated. Walked down to Lime Street and hung around the Christmas Fair for a bit, but we were finished by then. I have to say, if the game, the day, had been scripted by me, I don’t think I could have got the story much better. 

We have completed the pilgrimage, hopefully the first of many to come, and for the first time in a few years, I am bonding again with the team. The Benitez and Lampard era was some of the most soul-destroying football I have ever seen, I was worried that this might continue under Dyche. How glad I am to see him prove me wrong, a superb job so far, Man of the Match.

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