Well with the dust settled on the Emirates visit and a shufty at the league table it's clear to see that the competition for top 5 is tight as a gnat's chuff! (if gnats even have chuffs that is, guess only a Mackem would know as they do try and romance anything with a pulse! cough cough Mr Johnson haha)
So, Everton at home the final battle of this most wonderful season in the year of our lord 2024/25. With the Might Toon Army hoisting silver for the first time in a Glaswegian males' lifetime & a remarkable 2nd half of the season run which has seen us equal all winning records previously set by fable managers of a bygone era.
We are still in the box seat to dictate the fate of our European Challenging foe.
A Win and we round out the season in 3rd spot. A Marked improvement on last season and indeed the excellent season before last, finishing 4th.
Chelsea will have to beat Forest by 2 goals more than we beat Everton to leap frog us. Villa by 14.
So We win 1-0 against the Toffees, Chelsea need 4 (we scored more goals than them so they need +1 clear) & Villa 14 to over take of 'For' record in front of the onion bag.
Our Least favourite of the turds that float down the Mersey arrive somewhat battered and bruised, with several of their 'stars' limping off injured during the Southampton win as they brought the curtain down on 133 yrs of history at Goodison Park.
It was a fine day for the Blues, they did it in style, dignity and respect. No hubcaps were stolen from the parked cars that day. An amnesty reserved for only the most auspicious of occasions.
Southampton will go down as one of the worst Prem teams ever assembled. However, Everton didn't look like a team of quality. Beto, should have had a hatrick. Whiffs of Ameobi about the lad. Big unit, team try-hard but lacking real quality.
The winger who has been a revelation for the Bitter Blues, Ndiaye, the only real shining light in a dull squad of dim yet determine 'solid professionals.'
Coleman's swan song lasted all of 18 mins. The 77 yr old Ashley Young replacing him. No legs at all down the right. Our left wing will have a field day!
Branthwaite hobbled off to be replaced by the recently exhumed corpse of the mummified Michael Keane.
Their defence has more holes in it that a piece of vintage Swiss cheese.
Up top McNeil busies himself here and there but with very little end product. Alcaraz, I don't know what he does. Is he a football player, or was he accidently signed up when dropping off an UberEats delivery when local trackied up scamp had away on his Mongoose?
The Geordie faithfull will have their assignment with the Mackem Prince. Pickford's movers will be shipping van loads of goals as the season finale reaching crescendo.
I don't how they get there... Get there they must.
Dust off ya passport and ya Euros, it's 'Pizza ai quattro formaggi' time bonny lads and lasses.
HOWAY THE TOON!



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