I am not writing any damned manifesto (who the fuck would read it?) but my descent into Quarantine Madness continues unabated.

We are now in simulated Season Three of the Bernard Gilkey era leading Everton Football Club.  First, we finished our usual, solid 8th. I had to spend most of my time and energy shedding the grotesque contracts of the pre-Marcel Brands era.  So, I felt good, especially given the 13-match unbeaten streak in the second half.

Of course, I started off terribly in Season Two (Everton, that) and had to figure out a way to reach my squad.  It didn’t help that Richarlison decided to become an utter cunt, leading me to not even register him for my roster.  Fuck you, play with the U23s.  Of course, I couldn’t get even a decent transfer offer, and decided to give him one more chance.  Of course, he fucked me over again, and I banished him for good.  Nonetheless, the Toffees peaked around midseason, getting lots of Europe buzz.  We hit another purple patch, marked by the low point of losing AT HOME to Litre’s 17th position Mighty Whitey.  Well, turned out that Fulham needed those points in the end to avoid the drop, and I still managed to pip Spurs for 7th on the final day.  But Wolves won the FA Cup, meaning that 7th gets no Europa place (very rare, but again…Everton, that).

Cunty McCunterson Klopp and the Redshite won the League again.  And they.  Always.  Beat.  My.  Ass.  Once I played them extremely well, at Anfield even.  But I had a man (not Richarlison for once) tossed in the first half, and eventually I couldn’t quite hang on my deserved nil-nil (h/t, tWBS).  Jesus (well, Gabriel Jesus) joined the fuckweasels in the transfer window, clarifying once and for all that there is no loving and merciful God (in sportsball matters, anyway).

At the time of this writing, I am headed into my FA Cup quarterfinal match (away to Norwich), after a bananacakes Round of Sixteen tie at Bristol City.  I led 2-nil in the 84th minute, but they equalized in the next three…and hit the post during added time.  I expected we’d have a replay at Goodison, but I forgot the new rules.  Extra Time it is!  Despite the momentum (which is tomorrow’s starting pitcher, as we all know), Andre Gomes managed a wonder strike in the 98th, then set up the dagger blow in the 113th.  The game keeps telling me how much Handsome Andre looks up to and admires me.  I’d be gay for him.  FUCK YOU, you all would.  He’s just so damned handsome and charming.

I also look pretty decent for 6th, which would be locked up if not for my getting 1 point out of the last possible 9, all against meh opposition.  Yes, that includes Simulated Bogey Side Fulham (home draw, and they’re in 17th again).  So much for my fever dreams of pipping Arsenal for 5th, though.  It will be really tough not to qualify for Simulated Europa League, but Everton always finds a way.

My squad (which I may describe in more detail) is very much how I want it.  Footy Manager is pretty realistic, so I’ve no chance to get the likes of an Mbappe.  But I have assembled the United ColoUrs of Benetton on Merseyside.  I’ve an Angolan, a dude from Mali, a Russian and two Slovakians.  One of my Brits (you have to keep a minimum, which is reality but annoying AF) is even of Indian origin.  But they’re all righteous dudes (once China finally solved a problem named Richarlison), coachable and willing to defend – but still with flair.  I am gonna be so pissed if I get fired before accomplishing sommet cool with this merry band.

Original Toffees?  Well, Pickford is still minding the nets.  He’s also my captain (Slovak right back is 2nd in command), and has performed more than admirably.  Gomes, as mentioned.  Domonic Calvert-Lewin is at 16 goals in all comps, and Mason Holgate is a boss centre half.  I have had to be very resilient in turning down offers for those two.  I did decide to sell high on Tom Davies (60m) and Lucas Digne (55m).  Fans slated me for it, even though I brought in better players for less money.  And they’ve done fuckall sense leaving.

Perhaps the best part?  Even though I had to largely bench a declining Leighton Baines in Season One (to the point he asked for a loan, I granted it and he got hurt), he accepted my offer to return as a coach (following his post-season retirement).  He’s been earning his badges ever since, and I am hopeful the game will allow me to promote him to head coach of the U23s (current one just left to take over Wycombe Wanderers).  This may be Fan Fiction 101, but it delighted this Bitter Blue.

Take care of yourselves, y’all.  Reality is overrated.