Size Matters

Sigmund Freud said, “One day, in retrospect, the years of struggle will strike you as the most beautiful.” I hope in decades to come that Evertonians will know this to be true.

Freud also said that, “Being entirely honest with oneself is a good exercise”. I will take this onboard as I attempt to write about my chosen topic here: that of size. 

Depending on who you believe, Freud also had something to say about this. And I’ll admit that it’s been something of a preoccupation of mine over the years. Only in respect of Everton, you understand…

Whether those ubiquitous words about size were Freud’s or not, having used three of the man’s reported quotes already in this article, it’s incumbent upon me to acknowledge his genius and admit that he almost certainly didn’t deserve to be choked by Big Dunc’s left hand at Leicester all those years ago. 

I should start by declaring my position. For me, size has always mattered. 

And I believe, for Evertonians, it always should.

As the Friedkin deal nears its completion, and they ensure they churn out ‘iconic’ in their first statement, Evertonians thoughts will move from who they want to take over their club to what they want from a takeover.

Neville Southall, succinctly as ever, has it right: “It’s the best club in the world. We just need people to come in who match that ambition and improve the team. Since we made that decision that finishing 10th was okay, the club has gone downhill… the ambition went and it has never come back.”

Honestly, if I could send one message to Dan Friedkin, it would be this. Or maybe this (again from Neville): “We need to make sure that the ambition comes back and we actually live up to our mantra.”

There’s only one Neville Southall. 

Up until recently, I’ve been in the I’d take Moyes till the end of the season camp. But it was disheartening to hear him on The Echo’s podcast still peddling the Knife to a gunfight stuff, inferring that we are smaller than Manchester United and Liverpool and Chelsea and whoever else he could never beat. I don’t care about objective opinions here. I don’t care what a neutral might say about our relative standing in the game. The point is, on matters such as this, we need somebody in charge who is only ever subjective in their outlook. Was it David Moyes who actually made that decision that finishing 10th was okay? Quite possibly. 

Lots of Blues remember leaving Goodison during Moyes’s time, after beating Wolves or West Brom 2-0, feeling distinctly underwhelmed. Of course, it could be argued that everything that’s happened in the past decade makes a mockery of that discontentment. But I stand by it. Don’t give me Be careful what you wish for. Everton fans don’t dream of finishing 7th. Read the badge and listen to Neville Southall. 

We thought that money was the answer. We now know it isn’t. Moshiri has proved it and PSR has ratified it. So, don’t get me wrong, Mr Freidkin: we’re very grateful for your billions. But we now know better than most that there is something more important: mindset. 

You attract what you believe you deserve. And for Everton, that can never be anything but the best. 

I am 43. So, for me, in those crucial formative years of fandom, Everton’s standing in the game was evident everywhere I looked: it was played endlessly on my dad’s substantial collection of videos (kept in cases that looked like books and labelled - always in capitals - with titles like FA CUP FINAL 1984 BUILD UP AND FIRST HALF); it was written in newspaper reports that told of British record transfers and short odds at the bookies for championships; and it was explicitly referred to in conversations about Big Fives and Nil Satis Nisi Optimum. 

I felt it too. That palpable taking away of the breath that fans recall upon seeing Goodison for the first time. Never mind the matches, I was in awe at the size of the Main Stand when we pulled up on Goodison Road to go to the old shop. There was always, always a buzz.

Then, even as the team began to tread water, slipping down the table, foreshadowing future woes by sinking 2-6 on the telly at Villa, and then sinking a little bit further – leaking 5 goals at home to Norwich and QPR, before threatening a complete capsize in The Wimbledon Game, there was still an underscoring of the football club’s standing. Whether the sense of shock was being communicated by Des Lynam, Saint & Greavsie, or my grandad’s mates in the pub (red and blue), the message was clear: Everton are massive. Everton are too big for this. 

The main reason that the 3-2 against Palace was so devastating was because it was completely unaccompanied by any of the disbelief that accompanied the Wimbledon match. Comparisons between one relegation comeback and the other were understandable given the scoring but completely missed the point: it was now expected of Everton Football Club to be embroiled in relegation battles. It was – and is – the norm. 

Back to the distant past – our safe place – for a moment: during the '80s and '90s, before, during and after Joe Royle’s time (my particular happy spot), there were always conversations around the size of the club. Explicitly and implicitly, it was there everywhere you looked: it was there in huge bids for Stan Collymore, Alan Shearer and Denis Bergkapmp; it was there in Peter Johnson’s plans to install batteries of TVs in the Main Stand following a fact-finding mission to the San Siro; it was there in the staggering celebrations at Elland Road and Wembley; it was there in the signing of Andrei Kanchelskis; it was there in NEC’s advertisement - Like the other 91 clubs, we’re behind Everton.  

Yes, we know that a general malaise and chronic incompetence undermined all of this. And we suspect that a few tellys in the Main Stand wouldn’t have persuaded Denis Bergkamp to join, but that’s not the point. The required finances and expertise might not have been in the room. But once ambition left the building too, the result was inevitable. 

There have been fleeting moments since – small but special because of their rarity – during which it felt like we might just be heading back to the top: Wembley stadium after Jagielka’s penalty; Nuernberg; the eve of the 2010-11 season when Moyes made Arteta captain and gave him the Number 10; that man’s goal against Fiorentina; Christmas in Martinez’s first season. Look, there's not many, but when it happens – when Everton act big – it never feels weird. It’s not Leicester-winning-the-league weird. It’s Everton. It’s how it should be. 

Farhad Moshiri has nearly built what we hope will be Dan Firedkin’s field of dreams. And Evertonians will go there, that’s for sure. But let’s not go there in hope, let’s go with belief. 

Thoughts become things. So, Mr Friedkin, when you get this over the line, please arrive at Goodison Park – and then at Bramley-Moore Dock – ready to manifest Everton as a giant of the game. Evertonians will be patient. We are not interested in quick fixes and we appreciate better than anyone that money won’t solve everything. But we’re interested even less in taking knives to gunfights, hitting glass ceilings, or being the "best of the rest". 

Success is directly proportional to belief in ourselves. And for Everton, it’s already there: Nil Satis Nisi Optimum. 

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