The Magic of Goodison

A work colleague took his seven year old son to his first ever match when we played Wigan recently. On the Monday after the game I was regaled with stories of how in awe of everything his lad was by Goodison, the look on his face when he saw the players coming out to warm up and how he didn't really notice that Wigan had scored even though he had a perfect view of it from his seat in the Upper Bullens but was fully aware that Everton had equalised. Not to mention the fact he got a little angry with his dad for leaving a couple of minutes before the end and missing our third goal. I have a feeling that this will not be Adam's only visit to Goodison, much to his dad's relief, who now feels he is a proper father now for passing his love of Everton onto his eldest son!


Listening to how excited Adam was got me to thinking about my first game at Goodison, I remember the date - 01/05/1993 (a date that I will never ever forget) and that we played Arsenal and drew 0-0, but apart from that, I have to admit that I don't remember too much else, apart from knowing this was a place that I needed to come back to (haven't really stopped going back there much since that fateful May day).


I may not remember much about my first game at the Old Lady but I do remember my cousin's first visit to Goodison and how without maybe realising it at the time, it changed his life - I took my our Marc who was then 11, to see us play Man Utd in February 1995 (he was a Man Utd fan at the time), and he'd never been to a match before. His dad worked on Saturdays so couldn't take him, though I am not sure he'd have taken him to Old Trafford even if he was able to take him the match.


Even though he was supporting the opposition that day, I remember that you could see on Marc's face how in awe of the whole occasion he was. He hardly spoke from the moment we got into Goodison, which is so not like us when we get together (even during my holy communion we got told off as he was talking during the service and making me laugh!)  As it turned out Big Duncan scored one of his classic headers and we won 1-0, much to Marc's disappointment. If Marc was quite quiet during the game, he was even quieter on the way home, as he got a lot of stick from me and my brother (all of it good natured but very deserved). Despite seeing his team losing that day he said he really enjoyed going to the match and enjoyed the atmosphere and asked if Id take him to the next Man Utd game at Goodison.


Circumstances meant I never did take him to another match and we never really saw each other as much after that, but I was told by his nan and grandad that he'd fallen out of love with Manchester United. So I thought he was just a typical glory hunter and once United started winning again (apparently he didn't like it as I gloated to him when we won the FA Cup in the same) , he'd suddenly remember that he's always been a big supporter.


Ten years later in 2005 when back at Goodison, history repeated itself and Ferguson rolled back the years and scored yet another classic header down the Gwladys Street End as we beat United 1-0, who did I find was sitting two seats away from me, just like a decade ago, but our Marc. This time not supporting Manchester United, but the mighty blues. He was as passionate about us as I was. He was now an Evertonian. He said he'd never forgotten that day back in '95 when he first experienced a football match live. Even though his team that day had lost, he remember the whole atmosphere, the noise of the fans and the way the ground erupted after the goal and the full time whistle. He knew he was never going to get the chance to experience the same level of support and passion being a United fan, so he switched his allegiance to Everton, a decision he said he'd not regretted.


The next time I saw him at the match was outside Wembley in April 2009 when once again we'd beaten his "first" team, you would never have known that he once supported United. He was singing and dancing, just like those of us who had supported Everton all our lives and he admitted that when Jags scored the winning penalty he had shed a little tear, which is exactly what I did (although it was probably more than a little tear in my case)


Maybe sometimes I take the magic of Goodison for granted as I am there week in, week out, through good times and bad, but for someone experiencing it for the first time, the old lady must still have some powers, it certainly did something to my cousin and it seems to have had a similar affect on Adam too.

The Best Little Spaniard

August 31^st is rapidly becoming a date in the calendar that I am beginning to hate  - the final day of the summer transfer window. The day usually leaves me feeling extremely frustrated as I watch players that I think would do a job for us going to other clubs. This year however, I was not so much frustrated as upset, devastated and in all honesty heartbroken. The best little Spaniard I know left our club.

Once it was all official that he was joining Arsenal, I broke down and cried, not the actions of a normal, rational 29 year old, I admit, but that is how much I loved (and probably still love) Mikel that him leaving just reduced me to tears. I was also crying over what it signified for our club but I am not discussing all that at the minute, this is about Mikel, the little Spanish magician who gave me such great pleasure and happy memories in his 6 and a half years at the club.

When he signed for us in January 2005, I was told by my cousin's Rangers supporting husband, not to hope for much from Arteta as "he didn't exactly set the SPL alight" and "he gets blown over by a slight breeze, so won't handle the rough & tough of the Premiership". Oh how wrong, was he!! The earliest memory I have of Mikel was him controlling and dictating the midfield in one the best away performances I have witnessed from us - a 3-1 win at Villa Park in February '05. He just seemed to have all the time in the world to pick the passes out and didn't seem overly phased by the "rough & tough of the Premiership" as my cousin's hubby had predicted. I think I knew there & then, off the back of that performance against Villa that this was a player who I was going to love. He cemented his place as one of my favourites when he played his part in the best night I've known at Goodison by setting up Big Dunc for that goal against Man Utd.

He became a permanent member of our squad and he still managed to entertain me with his performances, be they out wide or in the middle. He controlled the midfield in many games, he had "time" to do whatever it was he wanted to do on the pitch. I've never really seen a midfielder of ours do that and it was a joy to watch. When he had the ball, I felt relaxed as I knew he'd retain possession or pick a pass that would lead to something. He wasn't afraid of getting stuck in either, which was a side to him I wasn't expecting, but he understood what it meant to be a team player and got on with his job without ever complaining about what role he was asked to do.

Not only was he the main creative spark in our team, he chipped in with a fair share of goals too. Who can ever forget the hope he gave to us with the stunning free kick against Villarreal in the Champions League and those who were at Goodison for the Fiorentina will never forget the moment that "Goodison was shaken to it's 100 year old foundations". I will never forget the choruses of "Follow, Follow, Follow" ringing out in the cold November night air at the Easy-Credit Stadion, Nuremberg after his penalty put onto the road to a brilliant 2-0 win. Even last season, which was not his best in an Everton shirt, he still gave me two of the best memories with his equalising goal in the 93rd minute against Man Utd and his first Derby day goal.

It wasn't just the performances on the pitch that made me love Mikel so much though, it was the way he had taken the club to his heart, he had become an Evertonian, so unusual for a foreigner to do this, but Mikel had. His friendship with Tim Cahill was one of the most genuine I have ever seen. Seeing those two together before games was as funny as it was endearing. The interview with the pair of them shown before one our UEFA cup games just showed the level of their friendship.

Not many players have made me cry in my 18 years of going to the match like Mikel has. When he suffered that injury up at St James Park in 2009, I cried, as I knew instantly the seriousness of the injured and also knew that he'd probably not be quite the same Mikel when he returned. The reception he received upon his return against Birmingham was quite simply one of the best I've ever seen, all of Goodison were just so happy to have him back. I will admit, again I shed a tear or two.

Yes, his performances since the injury have not been up to those high standards of those first couple of years, but he was still Mikel, he still had the odd glimpse of Mikel magic, his two goal & overall excellent performance against Hull, man of the match showing back up at the ground where it all started to go wrong, St James' Park last season.

Now he has gone, and he is still making me cry, with the eloquent and heartfelt way he spoken about his time at Everton and the affection he has for the club and the fans. Everything he said was very genuine and sincere. An indication of what a true gentleman and all round nice guy he really is. I maybe I'm being silly to feel like this over one player, no player is bigger than the club, I know that and I understand the reasons why he was sold (doesn't mean I like them) but that is how I am, I get attached to players, I always have and I always will. I am even more gutted that I will never get the chance to meet him now, he wasn't at Finch Farm on the day I went there, I thought I'd get to see him one day, but now it won't happen.

He may well be now Arsenal's Mikel Arteta, as he was introduced on Sky Sports News prior to his interview on Friday, but to me, he will never be Arsenal's, he will always be our Mikel Arteta - the best little Spaniard Everton or I will ever know.