So, Ricky’s the man for the job, or at least the man in possession of the job at the right time, so he’ll do for Quinny, apparently. An eighteen month contract means that if someone else comes along, he won’t cost much to pay off or demote to coach – that’s me being pessimistic about his abilities. His first four games in charge had produced decent performances, the last being Friday’s sort-of-acceptable draw. Today’s trip to Merseyside offered a chance to see what he could do against another well-organised side – and a side with the league’s worst home record.

Yesterday had seen a bit of a head-wetting session on Tyneside, with baby Curtis being the subject of our celebrations. I came away with my back having gone of on one, as the medical people would call it. Copious pills and a good lie down made a trip down the A1 possible, and a reasonably comfy seat at the back with the Sunday papers. Manchester looked the sunniest it had been since that day in early ’73 at Maine Road on the road to Wembley. At Birch services a couple of Leeds coaches pulled in, bottles and cans all over the place, and tried to hide them in the boot for the last few miles to Stockport, with the driver trying in vain to remove all evidence of said bottles and cans. All of this was a bit of a waste, as they left a bog pile of them in the car park anyway.

11:36 was the time the first perple wheelie bin was spotted, and that could only mean one thing – we were in the 2008 City of culture. Our very own smiley policeman boarded to warn us “not to get too bladdered or you’ll not get into the game. Happy days, and welcome to Liverpool.” Slightly less threatening up close than those officers outside with those nasty big sticks so popular with Merseyside lawmen, thankfully.

There being limited time, what with a two o’clock start and it being a Sunday, there was no time for our usual trip into town to sample the delights of Liverpool’s licensed hostelries, so we just strolled down to Walton Road and the first Wetherspoon’s. A decent mix of home and away fans included Burnsy the mag – he’s OK for one of them, and we had a bit of catching up to do. Several of his workmates spotted him, and, they being bluenoses (as Burnsy called them) they wondered what he was doing with a bunch of Sunderland fans. It was quite amusing to watch his expression as Liverpool rained in the goals at Sid James, giving us the chance to reduce our goals against tally compared to them. Agent Sixsmith joined us, having spent the previous day sampling the joint delights of local league football and the pubs of Southport.

Sky Sports informed us that Reid and Ferdinand would take no part in the day’s proceedings, so we assumed that Whitehead would fill in at right back with Bardsley moving to the left and Collins into the middle.

Wrong.

Fulop
Bardsley Collins Noz Richardson
Steed Deano Teemu Murphy
Cisse Jones

Well, that’s what it sort of looked like once we got moving. We were sitting low down, close to the home fans, and near enough to the pitch to smell the grass. Mr & Mrs Winks had decided that Goodison was a ground rather than a stadium, and were informing their daughter of the difference as things got underway to the sound of numerous corny football-type songs. Did Everton buy the K-Tel/Ronco Now That’s What I Call George Formby Sings Jolly Football Songs at some time and decide to play them all before every home game?

With the ever popular Rob Styles in charge, Djib managed to get the game’s first shot in, but there was nothing to it and no real danger. As Everton tried to settle, directing much of the play through Phil Lynott lookalike Fellianinini, we won free kick 35 yards out but the shot and the follow-up were both blocked. After eight minutes, what looked like an iffy free-kick (it was a long way off, and we were sitting low down) ended up in the net after Arteta got the vital touch. After a foul on Murphy by Neville, Noz headed over, then Cisse found Deano and his cross was back-headed just wide by Jones. If this is sounding a bit like it was all SAFC with a lucky breakaway goal by Everton, it’s because I’m biased. After 27 minutes, another free on the edge of our box was blocked but Arteta was there again to put away the rebound, and Cahill was allowed a free header which he uncharacteristically missed. Jones controlled and turned nicely to see his effort blocked, but too often we found ourselves with no space in which to work and ended the half two down.

Steed didn’t come back out for the second half, with Carlos taking his place. We managed a bit of pressure around the hour mark, but for much of the game it was Everton playing the football and us struggling to produce anything fluent. Edwards did come up with a good run from the centre circle into the box and saw his shot saved, but Everton came back at us every time. Bardsley was booked after a tussle with Pienaar, and when Cisse was fouled at the other end, the shot was into the wall and away. As the game wore away, Yorke and Healy replaced Cisse and Teemu, and we struggled a while as the new Lads tried to settle in. Yorke tried his best to calm things down, and it was their substitute Gosling who passed the ball into the net for their third after they passed their way in to the box.

A poor performance, reliant too often on asking Cisse to chase the ball towards the corner flag, and in which we were outworked and out-though by a fairly clever home side. Not a good first game as manager proper for Ricky, and one we need to get over quickly. Thankfully, most of the other results went our way meaning that we’re not much worse off than we were at sun-up, but another clean sheet would have been most welcome. We began fairly positively, but soon lost control of the game.

There followed the noisiest homeward debate for many months, with the “I told you so’s” and the “give him a chance” doing battle for an hour or so before the Ellis Short character evaluation began – that and the relative merits of the Yummy Yummy and Peking House Oriental eateries.

Man of the Match? Difficult to pick one, but I’d probably go for Teemu again, because he looked like he knew that he wanted to do but was frustrated at (almost) every turn because the rest of the side didn’t either due to the shape and formation baffling them, or just because they were giving an off day. Whatever the reason, we need – Ricky needs, I mean – to get it sorted as soon as possible.

Keep the faith

Sobs' Book click here...