Right... Everton

[Son of L8]

Okay, so here's the way it is fellas. Things have been a tiny but rubbish lately. In fact, it wouldn't be unfair to say they've been complete and utter dogshit for a while. But that doesn't matter anymore, because something big is about to happen. It's the biggest, actually, the main event, top billing, and it's a day when the last match, the form book, the season, the finals, the trophies, the "big club" rivalries, the adventures abroad, every last bit of it goes flying out the window for ninety minutes into which nothing else enters. It's the last hundred and fifteen years of Red Vs Blue compressed into two halves of football, a city and a people taking sides against itself, until the latest and the only alpha team that matters emerges.

 

And it's going to be us.

 

We might have been playing a bit pants lately, but that doesn't matter. Not on Derby Day. Every other match and result, every other performance ceases to exist from the first whistle to the last. There is no form, no stats, nothing but the world divided into Red and Blue.

 

We're going to fucking murder them.