Lonely Planet Magazine

Sent this to the Lonely Planet Magazine after they labelled Anfield a 'cathedral' and Goodison Park a 'shed' in their city mini-guide section

Sir, I read your magazine with interest each month and so was particularly excited to see my own city, Liverpool, featured in your mini-guides this month.

Alas you saw fit to label stoop to gaining lazy, easy laughs at the expense of Goodison Park, home of Everton FC. I presume this stems from a lack of editorial judgement on your part and a mischevious streak on the part of your correspondant Richard Vaughan. For the record Goodison Park is one of the few old style British football grounds hosting top flight football, whilst other grounds opt for concrete and steel and modern razzamataz Goodison still retains a traditional feel.

It's worth noting that Everton remain locally owned whilst other club have been taken over by foreign billionaires. We mightn't have huge budgets, corporate investment or McDonalds in the corner of the stadium (like the "cathedral" your piece recomends visiting) but the club has, in fact, been the only antidote the big money cartel dominating the game in recent years...much more in keeping, I'd say, with the Lonely Planet ethos.....still at least your readers will be able to fuel up on Big Macs when they visit.

Regards

Stuart Brandwood

Hooray for Hollinwood

Got to love this sort of anonymous mischief. Hats off to whoever has done it



A recreation of the iconic Hollywood sign, which nestles in the Californian hills, has appeared on a grass verge by the side of the M60 - in Hollinwood.

No-one has yet claimed responsibility for the sign, which at 3ft (0.9m) high is dwarfed by its famous cousin.

An Oldham Council spokesman said it was "definitely not a council initiative".

The sign, 4.5 miles (7.2km) away from Manchester, appeared on Monday by the side of the eastbound carriageway of the motorway between junctions 21 and 22.

News of its appearance is spreading and local ward councillor Keith Pendlebury was set to visit the new attraction on Tuesday.

But he admitted he was also in the dark about the origin of the wooden lettering.

"There was a scheme proposed to put an iconic piece of art at the Hollinwood roundabout - but I don't think this is it," he told BBC News.

Lescott makes a formal transfer request

So we got from this

Joleon Lescott was cheered every time he touched the ball as Everton beat Malaga 2-1 in a pre-season friendly at Goodison Park.

The defender, who has told the club he wants to leave, could have expected a tough night, but his name received the loudest applause before the game.

The 26-year-old played the full 90 minutes and left the field with the Gwladys Street fans singing his name.

to this

Everton have turned down a transfer request from Joleon Lescott, who is being targeted by Manchester City. The Goodison Park outfit have knocked back bids of £15m and £18m from City for the centre-half.

"I have always said that we are not selling any players and that has not changed," Toffees boss David Moyes told the club's website. Lescott, 26, is currently on international duty with England ahead of a friendly against the Netherlands.

But he played in a friendly for Everton in a 2-1 win over Malaga last Friday and was cheered throughout by the Merseyside club's fans. But, if the supporters were trying to urge Lescott to stay, their attempts appear to have fallen on deaf ears as he has put his desire to leave the club in writing.

So he plays in a game and is cheered at every turn (despite him informing the manager he wanted to leave) then scuttles off on international duty and whilst away makes a formal transfer request. You can only assume that he's one cold-hearted, mercenary, coward. Until today I wouldn't have bought that for a second...totally out of character.

He'll get huge amounts of cash at City and will no doubt be desperately looking forward to participating in their 2nd round Carling Cup tie. Ah well that's modern footy for you eh.

Bassong's ban...earliest St Totteringham's day ever?

So Spurs beat liverpool with a banned Bassong in the side, liverpool quite rightly cry foul, Tottenham relegated (or let off scot-free if the West Ham "media-darling London club" precedent is followed). Could be interesting though.

Sebastien Bassong is set to make his debut for Tottenham against Liverpool on Sunday despite appearing to serve only one game of a two-match ban.

Bassong, 23, was sent off for Newcastle at the end of last season and missed their final match of the campaign.

Spurs say he has completed his ban by missing Newcastle's match against West Brom on Saturday, even though he signed for the Londoners before that match.

Tottenham insist the ban continued to apply to Newcastle games.

"Sebastien Bassong will be available for selection for our Premier League season opener against Liverpool on Sunday," read a Spurs statement.

"Given he served the first game of his ban against Aston Villa on the final day of the previous campaign as a Newcastle player, it meant the suspension continued to apply to Newcastle games.

"It was therefore satisfied when his former club visited West Brom on the opening day of the Championship season on Saturday."

How can Tottenham possibly say he's available...he was a Spurs player, you buy a banned player he's banned for his next game. No doubt that slimy crook Redknapp will be on the news feigning shocked righteous indignation as usual.

Sunshine on Leith - Hibernian

This is brilliant



My heart was broken, my heart was broken
Sorrow Sorrow Sorrow Sorrow
My heart was broken, my heart was broken

You saw it, You claimed it
You touched it, You saved it

My tears are drying, my tears are drying
Thankyou Thankyou Thankyou Thankyou
My tears are drying, my tears are drying

Your beauty and kindness
Made tears clear my blindness

While I'm worth my room on this earth
I will be with you
While the Chief, puts Sunshine On Leith
I'll thank him for his work
And your birth and my birth.

My heart was broken, my heart was broken
Sorrow Sorrow Sorrow Sorrow
My heart was broken, my heart was broken

While I'm worth my room on this earth
I will be with you
While the Chief, puts Sunshine On Leith
I'll thank him for his work
And your birth and my birth.

Argentinian league postponed due to debt

Wow, how massive is this...a whole country's top flight getting mothballed due to debt :

The start of the football season in Argentina has been delayed indefinitely because many of the clubs involved are heavily in debt. The season had been due to kick off on 14 August, but the Argentine Football Association (AFA) said some clubs did not have enough money to pay players.

AFA President Julio Grondona said the situation was "very difficult". Last week, clubs in the second division had the start of their season postponed for similar reasons.

"The executive committee of the AFA resolved unanimously tonight that the championships in all categories should not start on the scheduled dates," said a statement posted on the AFA website late on Tuesday.

The organisation said it was continuing to look for "a substantive solution" to the financial problems facing the clubs and that their decision "will not affect intelligent and dignified meetings to seek a solution satisfactory to both parties".

Unbelievable really...show's you much danger there is of football eating itself alive

Cheatball, diveball etc etc

As regular readers know we here at GarstonTowers love rugby union only marginally less than footy.

We are however regularly faced with a fair bit of lazy snobbery for rugby fans (almost as bad as the inverted snobbery rugby fans get from the footy types). Cheatball, diveball etc etc. Heard it plenty of times....what's happened with this Harlequins fake blood-replacement affair is one of the worst examples of cheating I can remember in sport. To have a blood pellet in store for just such an 'emergency' is absolutely shameless.

What is just as pathetic is thar the authorities have decided not to take action against Dean Richards the coach...or the physio who administered the fake blood....rather just a fine for the club and a banfor the player.

Head burying of the highest order.

Stephen Fry on cricket

Stephen Fry making a speech about cricket :

Thank you ladies and gentlemen, thank you very much indeed. It is an honour to stand before so many cricketing heroes from England and from Australia and at this, my favourite time of year. The time when that magical summer sound comes to our ears and gladdens our old hearts, the welcome sound of leather on Graham Swann.

I have been asked to say a few words - well more than a few. “You’ve twenty minutes to fill,” I was firmly told by the organisers. 20 minutes. Not sure how I’ll use all that time up. Perhaps in about ten minutes or so Andrew Strauss would be kind enough to send on a a physio, that should kill a bit of time.

Now, many of you will be wondering by what right I presume to stand and speak in front of this assembly of all that is high and fine and grand and noble and talented in the world of cricket, and to speak too in this very temple of all that is historic, majestic and ever so slightly preposterous and silly in that world? I certainly can’t lay claim to any great cricketing achievements. I can’t bat, I can’t field, I bowl off the wrong foot. That sounds like a euphemism for something else, doesn’t it? “They say he bowls off the wrong foot, know what I mean? He enters stage left. Let me put it this way, he poles from the Cambridge end of the punt.” Actually as a matter of fact, although it is true in every sense that I have always bowled off the wrong foot. I have decided, since Sunday, to go into the heterosexual breeding business. My first three sons will be called Collingwood Fry, Anderson Fry and Monty Fry. That’s if their mother can ever get them out, of course. But back to the original question you so intelligently, if rhetorically, asked. If I can’t play, what can I do? I can umpire, I suppose, after a fashion. A fashion that went out years ago around the time of those two peerless umpires, perhaps some of you are old enough to remember them, Jack Crapp and Arthur Fagg. I remember them. I remember them every morning, as a matter of fact: Crapp and Fagg. Though now, sadly, the law says we can no longer do it in public places. And I believe that may even apply to smoking too. Anyway. We were on the subject of why I’m speaking to you. I don’t play. I’m not even a cricketing commentator, journalist or writer. I suppose the only right I have to be amongst you, the cricketing élite, might derive from my being said to represent, here in the Long Room, all those who have spent their lives loving the game at a safe distance from the square. It is love for the game that brings me here.

In the forty-five years that I have followed cricket, I have seen it threatened from all sides by the horrors of modern life. The game has been an old-fashioned blushing maiden laid siege by coarse and vulgar suitors. A courtship pattern of defence, acceptance, capitulation and finally absorption has followed. When I started watching, A. R. Lewis played for and captained England as an amateur. The game could never recover surely, from being forced, against the will of many of those who ran this place, being forced to become solely a professional sport? I am just old enough to remember too the Basil D’Oliveira affair in all its unsavoury nastiness: the filth of racism and international politics was beginning to stain the pure white of the flannels. The one-day-game appeared, shyly at first. The balance of bat and ball, essential for cricket to make any sense as a sporting spectacle, became threatened, everyone agreed, by the covering of wickets which would privilege batsman, and then that necessary equipoise was threatened the other way by the arrival of extreme pace and the pitiless bouncer. The look and style of cricketers was apparently forever compromised by helmets and elastic waisted trouserings hideous to behold. Cane and canvas pads were replaced by wipe clean nylon fastened by Velcro. Kerry Packer arrived and sowed his own blend of discord. The continuing rise and mutation of one day cricket caused panic from Windermere to Woking as white balls and coloured pyjamas threatened the sanity of Telegraph readers everywhere. Rogue South African tours caused alarm and frenzy. Pitch invasions marked an end of the days when schoolboys could lie on their tummies by the boundary-rope filling in a green scoring book, until they got bored which they inevitably did, all except the speccy swatty ones who were laughed at and are now running the world. The rest of us were too busy asking the man in the Public Announcement tent to put out a message for our lost friends Ivor Harden, Hugh Janus, Seymour Cox and Mike Hunt. One turbulent decade began with John Snow getting barracked and bombarded with tinnies and ended with batsmen getting bounced and sledged. Cameras and microphones got closer and closer to the action to overhear the insults and demystify the bowling actions. The art of spin had disappeared, for ever, some believed. Cricketers wives wrote books about the overseas tours. Reverse swing seemed to arrive out of nowhere : “Not only does he bowl off the wrong foot. They say he swings it the other way.” Ball tampering became a matter of dinner party chat from Keswick to Canterbury . Clever 3-D images were painted on the grass round about the long stop area advertising power generation companies no one had ever heard of. Advertising was not only to be seen on the grass, but on the clothes, Vodafone and Castlemaine were stitched bigger and brighter on the shirts than the three lions and the wallabies and that mysterious silver feather that Kiwis seem so unaccountably fond of.

The county game was rent asunder into leagues and divisions that no one really understands; the politics and governance of cricket, with its contracts and coaches, its bloated fixture lists and auctions of broadcasting rights caused hand-wringing too, though many would rather it were neck-wringing.

Meanwhile, drugs, drinking binges, embarrassing text messages and other scandals continued to erupt like acne on a teenager.

South Africa returned to the fold as other countries entered the club of test playing nations. Kenya, Zimbabwe and Bangladesh.

Two of those speccy boys who used to score at the sidelines got their revenge, their names were Mr Lewis and Mr Duckworth.

To the dictionary of acronyms and initials were added ODI, T-20 and IPL. Power plays and baseball style pinch-hitters were swept in. The old lady of cricket was getting a right duffing up.

Yet, amazingly, none of these changes, professionalism, the covered wickets, helmets, day-night games, confirmed the dire prognostications of those who believed each one might hammer a stump into cricket’s fragile heart. For this same period of my cricket watching life saw some of the greatest matches in the game’s history. The 1981 and 2005 Ashes series, the Tied Test; a new aggression and boldness of stroke play that no one could disapprove of. Scoring rates went up and great batsmen emerged: Lara, Tendulkar and Ponting amongst many others. And miraculously, to keep the game balanced, Warne and Murali showed that far from being dead, spin bowling was supremely alive; even providing a new ball in the form of the doozra. Huge crowds and rising popularity in fresh territories confirmed cricket’s health. Levels of fitness and standards of fielding rocketed. And all the while, the game’s greatest expression, the 5 Day Test Match, led the way, providing the greatest entertainment, the most excitement and the deepest commitment from the players. All those mournful predictions had come to nothing. The greatest of games had triumphed again.

But now, now, in the age of the internet, just as the great, great players of the past ten years have one by one started to play their farewell matches and leave the field for ever, hideous new forces have been at work. The newly emerged South Africa became mired in scandal, intrigue and misery as the new disease of spread-betting lived up to its name and spread, spread like cholera through a slum. Grotesque emails from professional umpires hit the headlines; allegations of systematic cheating and match-fixing have become commonplace, a dismal and lamentably organised Shop Window for international cricket, its 2007 World Cup seemed to lay the game low: an incomprehensible and dreadful tragedy in the death of Bob Woolmer its ghastly and unforgettable legacy. As if that weren’t enough we were more recently treated to the embarrassing spectacle of cricket’s governors cosying up to a Texan fraudster with a helicopter and a bigger mouth than wallet.

A new kind of bitterness has entered some quarters of the game as ex-players become commentators, columnists and journalists and begin to turn on their erstwhile teammates, dispraising the current players, pouring scorn on their technique and deprecating their tactical nous. We have video of course and can see that these pundits know what they were talking about: historical archive reveals that Boycott, Botham, Gower, Atherton, Willis, and Hussein were never out playing a false shot, never shuffled across, never missed a captaincy trick, never dropped a catch, never posted a fielder in the wrong place and never bowled off line or off length in the entire course of their careers.

The benefits and the drawbacks of broadcast technology bewilder us. Hotspots and Hawkeye, referrals and replays, umpires have never been more pressured and exposed and greater more seismically structural questions have never been asked about the meaning and spirit of the game. The rewards are greater, the stakes are higher, the price of failure more public and humiliating.

So a hundred years on from cricket’s Golden Age of C. B. Fry here is another Fry, searching for a way to toast a game that appears to have become … well, toast.

We could choose to believe that and retreat into memories of an apparently innocent and gilded past. We could wash our hands of it all, or we could choose to continue to believe in the game. Not necessarily in its administrators, nor even its players, though most of them in all divisions of the game are proud and gifted. We could choose to have faith in cricket. I for one do truly believe that the game itself, as first played by shepherds in the south of England, the game that spread to every corner of the world, the supreme bat and ball competition, the greatest game ever devised, will continue to provide unimagined pleasures, that true drama will once more come centre stage, booting into the wings the tragedy and farce we have witnessed over the past decade in particular. There will be new scandals of course: that you can depend upon. Undreamt of debacles, imbroglios, furores, brouhahas, crimes, rows, walk-outs and embarrassments are waiting around the corner, quietly slipping the horseshoe into the boxing-glove and preparing to give the goddess Cricketina a sock in the jaw. But new geniuses, new historic last ball climaxes, new unimaginable heights of athletic, tactical and aesthetic pleasure await us too. It is up to the players to believe in the game and the cricketing administrators to believe in the players. But most of all it is up to us to keep the faith and be unashamed, be proud of our love of cricket. Here, in the very place that is so often called cricket’s Mecca, cathedral and temple, is the place for us all to pledge that faith. I do so happily as I raise a glass in toast, on behalf of cricket lovers everywhere to Andrew Strauss in his Benefit Year and his wonderful Team, to Ricky Ponting and his fine tourists and to cricket itself. For, to misappropriate Benjamin Franklin, Cricket is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy. So then: raise your glasses, to Strauss, England, Australia and cricket.

Apollo 11 online 40 years on

There can only be one song to commemorate the 40th anniversary of the Apollo 11 landing



Saturn V by the Inspiral Carpets

There is tonnes of good stuff on the net for this. There's a relive Apollo 11 twitter feed and a flash based website at www.wechoosethemoon.org. Great fun.

"...and a planet full of people raises it's hands".

"We choose to go to the moon. We choose to go to the moon... (interrupted by applause) we choose to go to the moon in this decade and do the other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard, because that goal will serve to organize and measure the best of our energies and skills, because that challenge is one that we are willing to accept, one we are unwilling to postpone, and one which we intend to win, and the others, too.

It is for these reasons that I regard the decision last year to shift our efforts in space from low to high gear as among the most important decisions that will be made during my incumbency in the office of the Presidency.

In the last 24 hours we have seen facilities now being created for the greatest and most complex exploration in man's history. We have felt the ground shake and the air shattered by the testing of a Saturn C-1 booster rocket, many times as powerful as the Atlas which launched John Glenn, generating power equivalent to 10 thousand automobiles with their accelerators on the floor. We have seen the site where five F-1 rocket engines, each one as powerful as all eight engines of the Saturn combined, will be clustered together to make the advanced Saturn missile, assembled in a new building to be built at Cape Canaveral as tall as a 48 story structure, as wide as a city block, and as long as two lengths of this field.

Within these last 19 months at least 45 satellites have circled the earth. Some 40 of them were made in the United States of America and they were far more sophisticated and supplied far more knowledge to the people of the world than those of the Soviet Union.

The Mariner spacecraft... (interrupted by applause) the Mariner spacecraft now on its way to Venus is the most intricate instrument in the history of space science. The accuracy of that shot is comparable to firing a missile from Cape Canaveral and dropping it in this stadium between the 40-yard lines.

Transit satellites are helping our ships at sea to steer a safer course. Tiros satellites have given us unprecedented warnings of hurricanes and storms, and will do the same for forest fires and icebergs.

We have had our failures, but so have others, even if they do not admit them. And they may be less public.

To be sure,... (interrupted by applause) to be sure, we are behind, and will be behind for some time in manned flight. But we do not intend to stay behind, and in this decade, we shall make up and move ahead.

The growth of our science and education will be enriched by new knowledge of our universe and environment, by new techniques of learning and mapping and observation, by new tools and computers for industry, medicine, the home as well as the school. Technical institutions, such as Rice, will reap the harvest of these gains."

Amazing to think of the amazing adventure those people went on all those years ago. Great to see the Endeavour launching yesterday too (Primarily 'cause it's the one with the best name).

Jo Whiley is a vapid sycophant and the British Lions were robbed

So what did we learn over the last week....well for one thing Stephen Pienaar and Tim Howard are both ace but ultimately miss out on honours due to not being in the 'elite' teams.

We also learnt that when touring the southern hemisphere teams from up here will always be the victims of dodgy referees. They were brilliant on Saturday and deserved so much more than going down 2-0. They have really shown a lot of pride & togetherness during this tour. Qualities that were missing during the New Zealand tour. But for a few key moments they could easily be 2-0 up. Hopefully whatever happens in the final test it'll prove that The Lions will always have their place in world rugby because both tests so far have been superb games.

....and we also learnt that the BBC are only interested in presenters who will earnestly look into a camera and proclaim that what they are seeing is just brilliant/fantastic/amazing etc etc etc. Primary amongst this is their Vapid-Sycophant-in-chief Jo Whiley but her cohorts (and possibly clones) Edith Bowman and Zane Lowe are almost as bad. I am, of course talking about their Glastonbury coverage, Blur were good last night...their slow songs were spot on but all the up-tempo songs were just that little bit too snatched and fast. Probably understandable nerves.

One thing I did notice this year was that the flags are just getting ridiculous...paying all that cash to look at a stage obscured by a forest of national flags, footy flags, CND flags and a huge banner with "I love sausage" written on it. Shame on the two flag carrying Evertonians who were seen at a Ting-Tings gig!

We also learnt that The Ting-Tings are still garbage...shame on the two Evertonian flag wavers in the audience.

BBC Licence fee to be split up

Do I not get a say in this?

BBC Licence fee could be shared

I don't really want my money going to pay for ITV or Channel4...quite frankly their crap. The BBC is ace. If the sponsors and advertisers aren't enough to keep Coronation Street in the production values it is accustomed to then tough luck.

If I am going to pay for anything I want it to be the sort of high quality stuff that only the BBC can produce. If we are talking about sharing it out how about giving ITV Jonathon Ross' share, that's it.

Leave the BBC alone, it's one of the best things about the country.

Is this your new replica kit? (What were Spurs thinking?) 15 June 2009 - 13:18 | Sport.co.uk

Is this your new replica kit? (What were Spurs thinking?) 15 June 2009 - 13:18 | Sport.co.uk

New football kits for this season. I don't particularly like the new Everton home shirt (the away kits looks like it'll be nice but isn't pictured here).

The new Blackburn and Bolton shirts are much worse than ours.

City's is surprisingly classic given that Umbro were forever messing with our shirts when they made them.

Wow, It's just not cricket...actually it is

I'm sure there was a fair few MCC members scowling yesterday but ultimately yesterday was just a cricket carnival.

Even the most cynical of England fans would doff their caps to the Indian fans, fanatical doesn't even begin to cover it. As the Australian will attest our "Barmy Army" are no slouches either so it made for an amazingly vibrant evening. If they fail the old Tory "cricket test" then who cares.

With 153 runs under our belt I thought England were at least 20 short but in the end it was an absolutely enthralling finish.

So chuffed England won, this tournament is really catching fire now, England have an extremely difficult job on their hands later today but after yesterday anything is possible. Hope some of those Indian cricket fans will revert to plan b and support us now.

Phew!

Well after the debacle against the Netherlands it was relieving to see England step up and deal with a very tricky match against Pakistan so professionally.

The loss to the Dutch was utterly shocking but Twenty20 can be like that 'cause the game can get away from you so quickly. Against Pakistan that never really looked like happening. It would have been pretty shocking to go out of the tournament after just two days so I'm very glad we won.

England's footy players dealt with an arduous trip out to central Asia pretty professionally too with a fairly comfortable 4-0 win (once we'd settled down) and finally the Lions continued their winning ways although they were given a scare against the Ceetahs as they almost blew a 20 point lead.

Also great to see Roger Federer complete his career grand slam because he really is one of the greatest.

and that's that

Bit gutted about the FA Cup Final still but at the end of the day it was a great day to be an Evertonian whatever the result. Chelsea fans, individually, were mainly sound but collectively they seemed an odd bunch (Singing versions "Poor Scouser Tommy" and some weird Bouncey bouncey song). It was only this weekend that's made me realise how unpopular Chelsea are, everyone we met, Arsenal, liverpool, United, Blackburn, West Ham, Brentford seemed to be going out of their way to wish us luck again The Pensioners which was nice.

Ultimately the only thing that threw the Evertonians off kilter was Saha's early goal...it was very much "Okay, what do we do now" (We had a brilliant angle for Saha's goal...the delirium after he scored was breathtaking.

In the end we we met Triumph and Disaster and treated those two impostors just the same and that's all you can ask.

Will write more about the match when the dust settles (Haven't even read the program yet). It has been a great old season...if even my lucky conkers couldn't conjure up a win then nothing could.

Thanks to everyone, blue or otherwise, who's helped make this such great season.

What Everton means to people

With the FA Cup Final looming The Echo have done this survey about what Everton means to it's fans.

Everton FC fans' survey shows depths of passion and pride.

I like this, they made the following Word cloud out of the answers :

Congratulations David Moyes. Manager of the Year again

Well done Davey...LMA Manager of the year again. 3rd time in 7 years. Personally I'd have given it to Roy Hodgson this year but who am I to argue

Everton's David Moyes has been named as the League Managers' Association's manager of the year for the third time.

The Scot, who guided the Toffees to fifth in the Premier League as well as the FA Cup final, has twice previously won the award in 2003 and 2005.

Manchester United boss Sir Alex Ferguson won the LMA Special Merit Award for his success this season.

Son Darren, Peterborough boss, won the League One title and Wolves boss Mick McCarthy took the Championship prize.

Brentford's Andy Scott was named as the League Two manager of the year after guiding the west London club to promotion.

Moyes's third win means he has achieved a feat even compatriot Ferguson has yet to achieve.

We're on the march with Moysie's army...We're all going to Wem-ber-lee

So, The People's Club has come through for us. The wife has got a ticket and so have a lot of the people in the supporters clubs. Some people are still disgruntled and there are some anomalies for example half season ticket holders with 3 extra games get a ticket whilst non-season ticket holders who've been to every game having to go into a ballot.

In truth whilst the allocation is so small there is always going to be problems like this. I genuinely believe that no club our size could have done it any better (the club even gave nothing to it's own shareholders unless they met the season ticket plus extra games criteria).

Rumours abound that the club managed to liberate a load of tickets from a touting network and re-distributed them to supporters clubs and season ticket holders.

Anyway, the fact is that we are on the march. We're all going to Wembley...win or lose Everton have done their fans proud this season.

the final countdown

Still massively busy at work so not so much blogging at the moment, Love the UEFA Cup Final tonight. Odd to watch a game where you are complete neutral. I could tell I was neutral because I was willing Shaktar, the better side, to score and as soon as they did I really wanted Bremen to equalise.

The last day of the season this Sunday and Everton have little to play for so it's time to relax, hope for not injuries and watch the relegation battle unfold...and thank God for every season that Everton aren't involved in it.

After that....the small matter of the FA Cup final. If Hibbert plays he scores the winner.

and that is that (almost)

Everton's end of term party was pretty routine really,

Everyone had stayed in the pubs to watch the end of the Utd v Arsenal game so getting into Goodison was fairly tricky. West Ham threatened to spoil the day by scoring a 30 yard screamer which was applauded by the Everton fans such was the quality of the strike (although Howard's reading of the drive and positioning was possibly suspect.

From there is was all about Everton, once West Ham were down to 10 men and we'd scored the penalty we took control (apart from two lightning West Ham breaks coming after sustained spells of Everton pressure).

So 3-1 and we wave the boys off to Wembley....looks like The People's Club have came up trumps for it's season ticket holders by stripping tickets off supporters clubs and shareholders. Fingers crossed