Everton FC

Of the 1260 minutes of league football that Everton have played this year I have actually enjoyed, at most, 45 minutes of it. That is a terrible return for my investment -  to the extent that I'm starting to question my ability to support them in a logical and conventional manner. At half time during tonight's game, I actually thought to myself that I would turn the lights off in the unoccupied rooms of my house, as that tiny piece of environmental karma might just tip the balance in favour of the toffee's. This wasn't just folly either, I genuinely believed that this might have an effect.

This is what it has come to ladies and gentlemen. It's almost too much to hope at this point that Mickey might actually clear the first defender with a set-piece, that Roger might actually mark the opposing teams' right winger in a conventional manner instead of aimlessley wandering up and down the left flank, or that Phil Neville will simply stop being Phil Neville. The aformentioned 45 minutes that I enjoyed this season came during the second half of the United game a couple of months ago when it actually looked like we were trying to play attacking football, display some tenacity, and y'know score goals or something equally outrageous. Contrast that with tonight's dismal performance and the difference isn't so much day and night as it is sonar and lunar eclipse. Our main tactic against the pie-eaters seemed to be play it into feet in midfield, hold it up, get tackled and then get Yobo/Jags/Nev/Rog (delete as applicable) to just hoof it upfield, in the vain hope that Yakubu might actually make a run. With the exception of Jags and Howard, not a single Everton player can hold their head up and say they had a good game.

So fuck it, I don't care any more, I will do whatever it takes to see us perform better this season regardless of how menial and/or utterly unconnected it is. It'll be like that scene in Jurassic Park where Jeff Goldblum is explaining Chaos Theory to that bint out of Blue Velvet. Maybe if I adjust the tire pressure on my car to improve its economy, this will cause Tim Cahill to regain his ability to head the ball, if I perhaps stopped thinking bad thoughts about people I dislike, Steven Pienaar will remain fit for the rest of the season. If I stop kicking my cats in the face when they miaow for food, we'll beat Liverpool at Anfield this season. For that, I would (however reluctantly) stop kicking my cats in the face.

Reading back what I've written, I realise that I've not actually described or analysed anything of any great substance regarding tonight's performance for this match report. Hang on, maybe that's it! Its only since I've started writing this column that we've started underperforming now I think of it. Hmmm, tell you what, if we win our next game against Spurs, be prepared for many more ramblings from the edge...

If that's what it takes.