We can’t even be bothered rounding up the games from the end of the season.
Oh ok, in the very last match New Romantic-eyed Harry Kane scored the winner at Goodison for the only event of any note before the players came out to do their lap of shame. That Youtube comedy classic straightener in the car park next to Orry’s had a bigger audience than them chasing their kids around the pitch.
Since then, Roberto Martinez appears to have fulfilled a lifetime ambition by signing Tom Cleverley on a free. The England midfielder is some sort of joke figure among ‘fans of the EPL’, and regularly gets loads of stick on ‘social media’ – just say Twitter – but given that 95% of people who talk about football are monumental mouth-breathers, it’s almost certainly wise to hang fire and judge the wears-a-sovereign-on-a-chain-on-the-outside-of-his-jumper-looking former United man on what he does in a blue shirt.
Bear in mind how the majority of the Old Trafford brain trust scoffed when we signed Darron Gibson as well. Ok, they may have had the last laugh insomuch as his knees don’t seem to be able to cope with the stress of carting his Bella Emberg arse about, but the Irishman is certainly talented and far, far from the big bag of shite that they claimed.
Whether the signing ‘means something’ for one of the existing midfielders isn’t really clear. At first glance Mo Besic, the ‘tattooed Tal’, looks like he has moved further down the pecking order, although there are persistent rumours that James McCarthy is unhappy with the lack of a new deal and ‘seeking talks’. You would think that in the summer the freckle-faced scamp would be more interested in playing out on his bike until the sun goes down and stealing food from home for the charismatic but mysterious stranger who has started camping out by the reservoir. Wouldn’t you?
Elsewhere, we are just being linked with the usual ‘he’ll end up being last on the bench for West Ham’ strikers with dead vowelly names who are presently not really troubling double figures in the ‘scoring charts’ of the French League.
Oh, and that beardy, bad-inked Portuguese goon, Raul Meireles, who was distinctly bog average for both Liverpool and Chelsea. Take your pulled pork, your half-mast jeans, braces and your quarter-of-an-hour-to-make-while-I-just-want-a-pint-you-inconsiderate-twats cocktails and fucking beat it, Jim Rose Sideshow.
Finally, do people keep saying to you, because they know you go the match: ‘Ooh, what about FIFA then?’
And do you just shrug and say, ‘Makes absolutely no difference to Everton, me or my life. I always assumed they were bent as a bottle of crisps – this really comes as no revelation whatsoever. Just like whenever some new Tory shitbaggery (double G?) is exposed – it’s precisely what I assumed they were doing, for the simple reason that, well, they can’?
Stay tuned for more hot Toffee news. Actually don’t, let’s be honest, it’s liable to be absolutely fucking ages before we update this. The weather’s getting nice and there’s loads of good stuff on Netflix, why would you want to be reading shite about footy when even the players aren’t interested. They’re too busy enjoying themselves, well, if the Leicester City preseason video is anything to go by anyway.
We still think the Leicester Mercury missed a trick in pursuing the racism angle and not going for the obvious ‘FOXES SALAD TOSS SHAME’.