There was so much good about this, not least that wet-mouthed little fart Piers Morgan shitting the bed.

Standard Everton proceedings saw people pay actual money to send a light aircraft circling the ground trailing a banner. It should have said: FRANK LAMPARD IS A SHIT MANAGER because essentially that’s the crux of the Toffees’ present predicament.

Thankfully, Sean Dyche appears to have come in and done the basics well. He’s assessed the players at his disposal, what their strengths and weaknesses are, and sent them out with clear instructions regarding how they maximise the former and minimise the latter.

It seems easy and obvious, but it clearly can’t be as so many managers seem incapable of it.

It was interesting that Dyche said he asked the players to let him know what they think the problems are, and then asked for unity and a chance from the fans. You can imagine some of the players have said that the crowd are often on their backs and it makes games excruciating. 

Anyone with a hole in their arse knows the only way to get the supporters onside though is to get stuck in and fucking run. Which they did. They tried under Lampard too, but the way he set them up they were doomed to failure. It looked fucking lonely for players out there – strung out miles away from each other, sending out ‘come and get it’ vibes as sluggish passes across the back eventually found their way to Vitalii Mykolenko cowering in the corner. 

Dyche transformed that instantly, recalling Abdoulaye Doucoure to central midfield with Idrissa Gana Gueye and the brilliant Amadou Onana. They were compact in and out of possession and ran right over the top of the visitors. 

As expected, the crowd responded.

Because we’re a football club in Walton for fuck’s sake. Teams need to come here expecting to get kicked up the arse. 

Another change was Dwight McNeill starting the game and getting fed the ball in advanced positions where he could do what he does – find a half-yard of space and put crosses into the box. He’s been held up as a bit of an emblem of Everton’s shit recruitment, as he completely went into his shell under the last manager, but here he did everything asked of him, supplying dangerous balls for Dominic Calvert-Lewin to attack and working back tirelessly to support Mykolenko against the peripheral Bakayoko Saka.

Just outstanding.

‘Sean, Sean Dyche

He’s got a red beard and he’s a bit weird

Sean, Sean Dyche,’

Everything he’s done since he’s come in seems bang on. Apart from perhaps the dead tight jeans he had with his ‘going to Castle Street for a pint with the Smith brothers after the game’ clobber he wore when first pictured at the training ground.

Anyone can shout at the players and be a sergeant major cunt for the cameras, but that doesn’t last. You need them to believe in you, and you would, wouldn’t you? Someone as seemingly up front and straightforward as him? 

That’s what a leader is.

On some podcast he was talking about getting the sack from Burnley, and the standout detail was that they did it while Dyche was ‘working out’ in the gym in the morning. He was deffo wearing a ‘Corby Tuff Mudder 2019’ t-shirt, battered Asics running shoes and a pair of Tap Out shorts. And he never broke stride on the cross-trainer as the news was delivered.

He’s the one. We stick with him and his Ministry of Silly Walks on the sideline through thick and thin now. We have to.

There will be more difficult afternoons to come this season – success doesn’t come in straight lines – but we have now seen the blueprint for reaching safety. 

No snoods.

No hats.

No shithouses.