ALL eyes turn to Wednesday. All thoughts remain on Wednesday.
No-one was at all arsed about that yesterday, where they?
I mean, I thought we might get battered given the last time we played them Kloppo squared up to Pulis and allegedly threatened to eat his cap and make him a new one out of his jarg assistant’s scalp — like some kind of weird sequel to Face Off.
I can see the trailer now — Kloppo played by the James Bond Jaws fella with the mad grid, Pulis played by Barry McGuigan with a cap on and the jarg assistant played by a short-wearing weirdo.
Whenever I see assistant managers wearing shorts I always think of the time I got sent off for calling some divvy assistant manager “shit kecks”. Yes, that’s right, shit kecks. We were playing over the water in some wool factory of a place. The non-short-shit-kecks-wearing assistant manager called me a shithouse and threatened to punch my head in so I responded the way any sane-minded person would do in that situation and said:
“Shut up, you, shit kecks. Your kecks are shit. Look at the cut of your kecks, shit kecks.”
And I got sent off. Straight red after 20 minutes.
The referee thought I was talking to him, and despite my protestations that I couldn’t possibly have been talking to him as he had shorts on and that it was only a statement of fact and I was telling the truth as his kecks were shit and he couldn’t possibly send someone off for being truthful, the fucker sent me off.
By half time he had changed his tune and was telling all and sundry that he had sent me off for foul and abusive language and he was reporting me for failing to leave the field of play (that’s a separate story). If you are reading this referee, your shorts were shit as well. And so was your whistle, and your linesmen, and, if I’m honest, the kecks you changed into after the game could only really be described as shit, shit kecks.
Anyway…
With a team of little kids, a serial wrestler playing centre half and a goalie scared of the ball, it was a recipe for conceding at least five from set pieces at the Hawthorns. Credit then has to be given where it is due as, despite The Bog’s best efforts for the first goal, the Reds got off with a point, no injuries, some minutes in Hendo’s legs and a heart-warming goodbye cuddle from Kloppo on Skrtel, which brought a tear to the eye and an adrenalin-fuelled surge of relief through the veins.
All eyes turned to Wednesday, all thoughts remain on Wednesday.
It has been pretty difficult to think about anything else really, given the logistical difficulties faced in getting tickets, sorting travel, sorting money, sorting the team out in my head.
I was thinking about it earlier, running through the squad searching for people who have been through it before; who have won cups before, and I found solace in James Milner, Kolo and — somewhat surprisingly — Albie Moreno.
Albie, I had forgotten, has won this before.
The cool hand of experience will be there to lead the way; the old sage in the corner. Except then I realised that he used to play for Sevilla, has won it with Sevilla, is from Seville and all his friends and family probably support Sevilla…and I have been filled with dread ever since.
There is no way this is going to end well for Albie. He is pretty excitable at the best of times isn’t he? Pretty prone to sudden mad urges, almost Larry David-esque in his risk taking and level of puzzlement at all the fuss. Imagine that brain with the added responsibility of playing against his home-town club with everyone he knows in the ground aside from Jose Enrique and the endless possibilities for madman decision-making to rival nothing we have seen to date.
I’m going for a 30-yard screamer, a missed pen, four free kicks that hit the wall, a mental yellow card for a two-footed neck lunge and a bit of a big hook after Kloppo has nearly killed him and had to settle with bringing him off and putting Milner at left back to save him going to jail for a very long time.
I was backing myself into a corner of worry when Adam Melia text me a link to the Japanese karaoke that we are going to in Dusseldorf on Tuesday night en route to the final and I was able to remember that this whole thing, the brilliance of the second half of this season, is that this wonderful, powerful, magical manager that we have got ourselves has made this whole match-going process fun again.
What a time to be a Red.
I read on Twitter before that people are giving the manager stick because we finished eighth in the Premier League. Yes, this manager. Not the previous one, this one.
I just cannot accept this viewpoint as even being one that can be reasonably argued. What kind of misery arse goes through what we have been through this year, the nights we have experienced, the collective joy we have felt, and stands on the crest of a glorious new wave of success to moan about the fact that the sea is a little bit cold?
Fuck off and support Everton, lads. Seriously, fuck off. If this manager isn’t for you, at this very moment in time, given the impact he has had to date, then you might as well jib it and spend your time doing something that makes you happy.
If you aren’t prepared to give this manager time before opening up your keyboard to bladder out some inane criticism then you should seriously jib it. Seriously. Take a step away from your computer, lads, look down at your legs, take your kecks off and go in the garden and burn them. Send me your address and I’ll send you a pair of belters out, first class.
The club Jürgen Klopp took over was a mess. All we talked about was transfers, transfer committees, our best players leaving and everything being someone else’s fault.
The club lacked leadership, direction, and a sense of purpose. The previous manager was let down by a hierarchy more concerned with arse-covering and back-slapping than success and this, coupled with his own inadequacies, left a pretty rudderless ship.
Klopp provides a level of leadership that the club was desperate for. He is a remarkable man, a true leader in every sense, an advantaged thinker if ever there was one. He doesn’t believe in excuses, he doesn’t believe in blame, he believes in the collective, in you and I; he believes in success.
He should be treasured and supported from the bottom of our hearts because I’m fairly sure fellas like him are a pretty rare breed.
Bring on Sevilla on Wednesday, bring on Albie and his unintentionally confused state, bring on a mad trek across mainland Europe, bring on no hotel, bring on everything you can throw at us. We are Kloppo’s Reds.
Up the boss kecks Reds.
THE BEN JOHNSON GLOSSARY
– Jarg: Fake, blag, not real, not authentic.
– Grid: Face.
– Divvy: Fool, idiot, dope.
– Kecks: Trousers – not your bills, your boxies or your ballies.
– Over the water: The Wirral.
– Wool: Woollyback.
The plazzy lads have Parkgate potted shrimps .. Beat that!
Great read that.. Love it.
Bang on with the map, Angry Man. Ellesmere Port rests on a San Andreas Twitchy Line of Plassy/Wool/Welsh – but we ain’t Posh.
Are these columns your CBT for some mentalism?
I’m confused by the rules of Wool segregation. How does it work exactly? If someone was born in Liverpool but moved to London does that make them a wool? Or conversely if a Cockney moved to Liverpool and started supporting LFC does that make them sound? What if someone lives in Widnes but works in Liverpool are they a wool? Is it literally based on where they sleep at night or do they have to be born in Liverpool and live in Liverpool and work in Liverpool? But then what if someone’s parents are both Scouser’s but moved away for work reasons does the child become a first generation wool or are they like second generation sound? Are all foreign fan’s wools or is it just everyone in the UK, or is it literally just reserved for the towns bordering Liverpool? If you trace your family tree back to find several ancestors not from Liverpool does that mean you have wool blood? Is Lancashire omitted from wool status because Liverpool use to be part of Lancashire? I can’t get my head around the rules.
I wouldn’t look too much into it mate. Probably tongue in cheek but bullshit anyway. Seems to be the last bastion of stereotyping we still readily accept. Saying that, I like stereotyping people. I’ve got no issue with it. I find it funny. Not into all this ‘it’s offensive’ nonsense. It is what it is and normally for a reason. Funnily enough, a guy I was talking to just yesterday was saying Scousers are all thieves. I laughed and agreed. They’re not though.
Dunno why you think it’s confusing! Let’s take it from the top:
If someone was born in Liverpool but moved to London does that make them a wool? NO, THEY STAY SOUND, UNLESS THEY START TAKING ON COCKNEY TENDENCIES.
Or conversely if a Cockney moved to Liverpool and started supporting LFC does that make them sound? THEY MIGHT RECEIVE SOUND STATUS AFTER ABOUT 20 YEARS OR SO IF THEY MARRY IN. THEY WILL BE KNOWN AS ‘COCKNEY [NAME]’ FOREVER.
What if someone lives in Widnes but works in Liverpool are they a wool? YES.
Is it literally based on where they sleep at night or do they have to be born in Liverpool and live in Liverpool and work in Liverpool? THE SECOND BIT IS THE ONLY WAY TO 100% GUARANTEE SOUND STATUS, YES.
But then what if someone’s parents are both Scousers but moved away for work reasons does the child become a first generation wool or are they like second generation sound? COULD GO EITHER WAY, DEPENDING ON CHILD.
Are all foreign fans wools or is it just everyone in the UK, or is it literally just reserved for the towns bordering Liverpool? LAST ONE.
If you trace your family tree back to find several ancestors not from Liverpool does that mean you have wool blood? YES, I MYSELF HAVE A GREAT-GRANDMOTHER FROM BACUP AND ONE FROM WALES. I THINK THIS IS A BIT WOOL BUT, HEY, EMBRACE THE ECCENTRICITY.
Is Lancashire omitted from wool status because Liverpool used to be part of Lancashire? NO, PARTS Of LANCASHIRE ARE VERY WOOL AND SHUSH, WE DON’T LIKE TO TALK ABOUT THAT.
Any more questions, send em along and we’ll put them before the Committee for you.
Cheers la.
I think wool’s a state of mind more than anything. Robb Guttman’s a cockney, but definitely bordering on sound status. Martin Fitz is from god knows where, but seems far more sound than wool. Or maybe I’m just trying to convince myself cos I’m from Frodsham, which might just be the centre of the woolverse. Nice lights at Christmas though, and a lovely view of ICI.
Aye, there is a wool state of mind, but you’d never call a Cockney – or anyone else from a city – a wool, because its origins are from woolyback, ie living out in the country with the sheep.
It’s really meant for the outer reaches of Merseyside, especially if they’re piling on their Scouse accent. Like this story from a few years back: http://www.lep.co.uk/news/scouse-accent-spreading-towards-manchester-1-159849
Totally wool, that.
Slightly embarrassing that the guru of what a wool is doesn’t actually know what a woolyback is. The clue to it’s origin is in the term.
Your definition is more sheep shagger.
P.s what are we calling people born in Liverpool who put on or accentuate the scouse accent? You know the ones.
robin?
Woolyback = not living in the city, especially the country around the edges of Liverpool. That’s the only definition I’ve ever heard. Nothing to do with sheep shagging, more about working/living by fields.
But more recently it has changed, I’ve seen it said to someone from Bootle, which has got to be stretching it a bit!
Woolyback refers to the dockers who came to Liverpool from surrounding areas and the wool pillows to protect there backs from whatever cargo they were lifting on or off the ships.
My view of a wool is someone from outside the city, mostly but not just with a strong Lancashire accent i.e Wigan Bolton but also Widnes, St Helens Warrington where they have a bit of a “twang”.
In any case it depends on the person if there sound get us and there clobbers not too bad (Kappa trackees and the like) then its laughing they’ll still get stick for being a wool but only in “banter”( has been bastardised that word).
The other “bad” wool is gel headed has snide clobber, the same old opinion of scousers and crap tattoos.
Correct Nick.
Ha . good effort .
‘If you trace your family tree back to find several ancestors not from Liverpool does that mean you have wool blood?’
I reckon you’d be hard pushed to find many Scousers who could trace roots back to Liverpool over many generations. We’re from everywhere , especially Ireland , Lancashire and Wales though.
I come from the sound bit, but live in Germany. Can I steal this map to post on FB and show the folks here wots wot?
Fill your boots, mate! It’s just one of those things that went around the internet – no idea who first did it!
Cheers!
Surprised you didn’t mention Olsson’s fitting tribute to Skrtel’s backing off special move for our goal. Classy IMO. Like when Stoke allowed Gerrard his consolation goal this time last year.
We’ve got the most entertaining man on the face of the planet as our manager, going back to America for preseason and yet there’s been no word on the possibility of Being Liverpool 2. Disgraceful. Klopp cast as Pulis, Balotelli cast as James Beattie, chasing him all round Harvard or wherever. Someone make it happen.
Can’t wait to retcon Bogdan’s entire Liverpool existence and the idea from the club behind it once this season ends. Looking forward to that more than the final.
Funnily enough, I’ve just been reading about some of the criticism on Twitter. Makes my blood boil, though it shouldn’t because Liverpool have a higher than most proportion of fans who are complete dicks. I’m convinced of that due to our history / past 25 years. I should know and expect it by now. I’ve actually felt embarrassed for Klopp a few times. He tries his best for us all but there’s no pleasing some. Even Karl from here – never there when there’s a moan to be had.
I did the same last night via the Guardian below the line comments and stupidly went on twitter after that.
Henderson was getting dogs abuse off some lads who purport to support the club. I understand that some of our players are not of the highest quality but they are OUR players – why spend your life slagging them off on line? I just dont get it.
Meantime in real life I cant stop thinking about wednesday. Of course I want to win but if we dont I have still had a couple of cracking trips with my mates and watched the boys in Red slowly growing under Klopp – BFG!
Ha yeah, I saw some of your comments.
Are you going over on Wednesday?
Hi mate,
yes i am! You?
Got a relatively late ticket so all me mates have gone ahead. Going via Strasbourg – been checking trains frantically! Set off at 01.40 tomorrow!
ps I am a wool – Northwich/Frodsham/Runcorn with years down sarf and currently in Yorkshire!! But my heart isnt!
Yeah mate!
Think I’ll probably spend most of the day in Mulhouse. I might be able to afford to eat if I go there. Probably move into Basel late afternoon.
Drop us a message on Twitter if your plans are similar. If we’re standing 20 yards from each other in a square we can meet up for 10 mins and have a drink.
Kecks? Do you know the times I have had to write that word, due to iPhone auto correct?
Does anyone know the etymology of that word that we use for trousers?
The scots say itAT as well as troosers like.
Fucking fantastic bit of writing. Well in, mate.
Born in Liverpool (SOUND)
Dad’s family from Scotty Road (SOUND)
Work 5 minutes from Anfield (SOUND)
Live in Runcorn (WOOL), the new town mind (SLIGHTLY LESS WOOL).
The most important thing is state of mind. And I am RED.
And I’ve got my speck for the cup parade on Thursday – Or is that being WOOL?
I had the map made into a T Shirt.
I’m a wool.
Born in St Helens, raised in Lancs, live in Essex, work in London.
I wear the T shirt down here and it always raises a few eye brows.
Mind you, I had a picture of Skippy scoring at OT in 85 made into a r shirt as well.