Wolves 0 Everton 0

The final home fixture in this catastrophic season perfectly befitted the occasion, neatly summing up our miserable campaign inside 90 minutes of painfully dull football.

A bright start, a brief flicker of promise before ultimately descending into complete farce.

Blocked out

If that second half is what TC defines as ‘progress’, I’ll pass thanks.

With our attack completely blunted for the last half an hour, the only thing missing was the customary defensive brainwave to hand the opposition the points they seemed to so desperately crave.

Credit to the back four and indeed the team for that. They defended manfully from the start and made sure that a good Everton side were made to work for their chances.

Elokobi got the biggest cheer of the day, bouncing on to replace the stricken Christophe Berra and capping a fine cameo with a beautifully executed bicycle kick.

Lovely stuff George.

But when the highlight of an afternoon’s football is two drunkards lolloping onto the pitch with a paper cutout of the FA Cup and the South Bank pretending we scored a goal, you know something isn’t quite right.

And as has so often been the case, the quality of the chants emanating from behind the goal was in no way matched by the quality out on the pitch.

Without the forward thrust of Matt Jarvis at their disposal, this Wolves team just appear clueless about how to forge any sort of opening.

Henry and Edwards huffed and puffed in the center of midfield but neither have the vision or technique to open the gates.

The same can be said of the effervescent Stephen Hunt, who showed trademark tenacity but offered little to the game as an attacking force – save for scooping over a rare Wolves chance after an even rarer passing move.

Michael Kightly was also muted. Every time he had the ball he seemed to determined to scamper inside rather than attacking the line, always running into traffic and losing possession. Much more should be expected of him.

Fletcher and Doyle, starved of any real service were dominated by Jagielka on the odd occasion the ball did squirm into the Everton half. You’ll never convince me that they have or ever will forge a fruitful partnership.

In the last two games we’ve seen the major predicament that faces this group of players.

They can either play as they did against Swansea, creating chances but leaving themselves wide open at the back or, as they did yesterday, sit in and make life difficult for the opposition without offering anything going forward.

And as we know, in order to win football matches, you have to strike a balance between attack and defence, which is something that’s currently beyond TC and Wolves as a team.

Surely this much is obvious to our chairman? Or maybe not.

The fans crave decisive leadership and the sense that someone upstairs in our club realises these most fundamental of issues.

Instead, we were rewarded for a season of loyal support with a half-baked lap of honour and silence from the top brass.

Like I say, a befitting conclusion.

Wolves Vs Everton Preview

David Moyes has done another fantastic job for Everton this season.

Hamstrung by the club’s finances and their ‘sell to buy’ requirements, he’s once again juggled his resources, shuffled the pack and has the Toffees sitting just below the big hitters.

1-0 up at Goodison, only to lose it at the death

He just makes it look so easy too.

Organisation and discipline coupled with astute dealings in the transfer windows and voila! Top half guaranteed.

Nikica Jelavic is the latest bargain-buy, pinched from Rangers in January and already pinging them in left, right and center. He’s got 10 already.

Yakubu, Beckford, Saha and Arteta have all been moved on to balance the books, but that doesn’t seem to have prevented their customary upwards surge in the second-half of the season.

They’re unbeaten in their last 7 Premier League matches, dispatching Fulham 4-0 and taking a point at the Britannia in their most recent outings.

You worry for Wolves against any side that set out their stall and stay organised for 90 minutes. We just have an unwelcome propensity for self-implosion.

The Team

TC went 442 at Swansea last weekend and will probably do the same again. Unless we picked up any injuries I don’t know about, it will likely be the same eleven. I’d like to see an open game, for the sake of entertainment, so I’d go with that team:

De vries, Foley, Stearman, Berra, Ward, Henry, Edwards, Kightly, Jarvis, Doyle, Fletcher

If we do send that team out, I’m fairly certain we’ll concede, so as was the case against Swansea, we’ll need to score a few ourselves to be competitive.

Should the likes of Doyle, Fletcher and Jarvis impress, it wouldn’t surprise me to see any of them in an Everton shirt next season. I think they’re all players who could fit the criteria Moyes would be looking at.

Prediction League

Quite remarkably, nobody went for 4-4 against Swansea. However, 5 people did predict a draw.

So well done to me, Morph, Super Kev Doyle, robin and The Wanderer. Each of us take a point.

I’m hoping for a big performance to sign-off a catastrophic season of home-form and Everton are definitely due a defeat.

So against all logic and everything I’ve written above, I’ll go for a hopeful 3-1 Wolves.

If you’re at Molineux Sunday, have a great time and get behind the lads. I’m hoping we’ll get some words from our chairman after the game, which I think is the least we deserve.

Up The Wolves.

Everton 2 Wolves 1

Just like many young boys growing up in the mid-1980s, the sight of Howard Kendall’s all conquering Everton side was enough to make me realise how special the game of football was.

The thrill of staying up late to watch Sportsnight with Dad and the giddy excitement at the spectacle thereafter convinced me that the Beautiful Game was the one for me.

Thank God I wasn’t born a few years ago instead.

Because the team Dad diverted me towards in 1987 created its customary brand of wretched anti-football that does more to drive neutrals away from the game and take up tiddlywinks instead.

Savour it folks. Our ONLY shot on target

No shots on target (bar the penalty), no possession, no pace, no aspiration, no progression and no player within 40 yards of Kevin Doyle at any time.

And all this at the home of the club that first got me hooked.

We are the complete antithesis of those Canon League conquerors of yesteryear, let alone Graham Turner’s heroes of division three.

It was no wonder my two mates were spending more time checking their fantasy football teams than grimace at our pre-planned attempt to pervert the course of football.

Partly because they were bored out of their skulls and partly because all of their chosen players would never ever be playing at Goodison Park on November 19.

Not in a Wolves shirt at least.

It’s no wonder our (wonderfully voiced) fans can lay claim to the most self deprecating song in the whole of football, heard only two or three times a season when we actually take the lead away from home.

“We’re winning away, we’re winning away. How s**t must you be, we’re winning away.”

Doubtless they will be called numpties and mindless idiots by Mick McCarthy in the greatest irony of all.

If this is football Mick, you can have it.

If I wasn’t so desperately sad right now, I’d summon up some bile to throw at you.

It wasn’t the wasted £35 that has saddened me. It wasn’t even the defeat itself or the subsequent baiting by my Everton supporting mate thereafter.

It was the unashamed creation of a spectacle that bears no relation to the game I first fell in love with that really hurt, featuring none of its bewitching, spellbinding characteristics.

Where the good teams have skill, we have sweat. Where Norwich and Swansea have aspiration, we have pragmatism.

And where every other side have a chain of passes, we have a kick-off to Hennessey and a lump downfield to a striker who can’t win headers.

The game itself featured 11 Wolves players giving their absolute all to the cause, looking committed and hungry from the off.

For that, they will not receive any criticism from me. Certainly not Ward for his phenomenal block on the line, or Berra for an amazing last gasp tackle on Drenthe in the first half.

We took the lead through a needless Fellaini trip on Edwards and proceeded to squander possession with the reckless abandon of a pub team.

So what happened next? We work even harder to try to get the ball back and our tiring bodies give way to weary minds.

The agonising inevitability is bad enough. The reputation we have now garnered with yet another set of disbelieving fans just rubs the salt in.

“Thank God we only play these lot once at home this season,” said one pained Everton fan.

The pleasure was all ours.