Listen carefully, and you’ll hear it. The deafening silence of a nation of wary Toffees, simmering as their fury is placated for the moment, a caustic foam being blown down, like boiling milk.
A 2-0 win over Chelsea in the FA Cup has killed the anti-Martinez groundswell temporarily, which had reached a peak after that 3-2 collapse against West Ham. Last weeks lamenting of Everton’s frailties at the back seems a little hysterical now, in light of their perfect defensive record in the Cup (four games played, no goals conceded).
Still, this run notwithstanding, it has become clear over the past three seasons that Roberto Martinez has only limited skills when it comes to organising a robust defence. That first season as Everton manager in 2013-14, when his team conceded as many goals that campaign as they have so far this term, and finished in fifth place, was an anomaly.
Everton benefited that year from a lingering Moyesian steel, a residual memory of solidity, that mixed seductively with this new Martinez attacking fluency. But it faded, and now the Toffees supporters have nail-less fingers, wracked as they are by the constant fear of defensive miscarry.
But maybe it’s just a matter of perspective. Yes, Everton should be doing better than they currently are, what with the league’s second best striker, best young English attacker, and best young English defender. But instead of bemoaning your teams weaknesses, maybe you should embrace them.
There is something wonderfully thrilling about Everton’s haphazardness; the Toffees have been involved in matches that have contained four or more goals 11 times this season. Of those 11 contests, Everton took full points in five of them. They have, on six occasions, scored two or more goals and not won. 25 per cent of their matches have more than 4.5 goals. These are, ultimately, not enjoyable matches to live through as an Evertonian, but they are exhilarating, blood-fizzing experiences that fire the heart, that confirm this sporting life as the sublime, volatile crucible it should be.
Why not wear the chaos on the sleeve, emblazon it proudly on the shirt: Everton-as-Russell-Crowe’s-Gladiator, bloodied and heaving – “Are you not entertained?” There are teams, with records comparable to Everton’s – albeit with worse players – who would kill for a taste of the sort of adrenaline the Toffees serve up as standard; West Brom and Manchester United come most immediately to mind. And, even though this style has served them badly this season, with their current ho-hum occupation of 12th place a thorough under-performance, an attack-first-defence-a-distant-second approach isn’t necessarily a losing mentality. Liverpool conceded 50 goals in their title-chasing season. This Everton team, while towards the bottom of the league in terms of average age, has a fairly young talent core: Romelu Lukaku, Ross Barkley, Deulofeu, Gerard McCarthy, Muhamed Besic and John Stones are all 25 or under. They will only improve.
Looking at some of Everton’s statistics, a pleasing symmetry emerges. Only one other team has conceded more goals than Everton (13) in the final 15 minutes of matches (Crystal Palace with 14). But then, only one team has scored more goals than Everton (13) in that same final 15 minutes (West Ham with 14). Only Swansea (11) have scored more equalising goals than Everton (10). But then, only Bournemouth (11) have conceded more equalising goals than Everton (9). They have scored as many goals as Spurs (51), and have earned just one fewer clean sheet (8), and yet are 17 points worse off. They are 22 points above bottom-placed Villa, and 22 points below first-placed Leicester City. In effect, their attacking virtues and defensive vices are cancelling each other out, almost exactly.
Perhaps a Martinez season can’t exist in any other way. In order to beat Sunderland 6-2, and Chelsea 3-1, you have to tolerate 3-2 losses to Leicester City and West Ham. Everton are, after all only six points off Southampton in seventh, with two games in hand. In every other aspect, Martinez has done a fine job, not to mention seems a very, very nice man.
His recruitment has been exceptional, with Lukaku, Deulofeu, Funes Mori and Besic all stellar talents. He held firm with near-unbearable pressure applied by Chelsea over John Stones and, to a lesser extent, Manchester United over Leighton Baines. His players seem to love him, and he them. His refreshing attitude toward cup competitions glints happily as other managers disregard them, and he has assembled the joint-second highest scoring team in the league.
So shed the grimaces and wash away the salt, Evertonians, and walk into every match with hand over thumping heart. Your manager isn’t perfect, but none are, and his shortcomings at least make for some splendid matchday entertainment.
You have an FA Cup semi-final coming up, and can still make amends in the league. We know that last-gasp defeats are hard to eat, they crumble into bitter, coarse grains in your mouths. But your life is hot-blooded opera, every moment a crescendo in major and minor keys; this, as wearying as it can be, is better than the warm, numbing embrace of boredom.
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