Diary of a Bluenose in Salt Lake City 2009

Well, 2009 was to be the same for Everton as it was in 2007 - Salt Lake City, Utah, that is. Last time here we were not exactly overwhelmed by the "night life", but the saving grace was that we got to see Everton again - and in an extremely close-up way, not normally possible for the average fan. 

We arrived from drought hit Houston on Saturday and booked into our hotel in downtown Salt Lake to much milder daytime heat and cooler evenings. Still in the 90's, but the humidity was missing, thankfully, making life much more comfortable and relaxing. We'd already done the normal sightseeing around the city, so headed off to Park City in the mountains 30 odd miles to the east of SLC.

Wow, wow, wow and wow - Park City was amazingly beautiful, attractive, restauranty, pubby - and the advertising of the Everton match appeared on every lamp-post on Main Street and its surrounding areas!

Boy, did this place make us feel at home! Seeing the Everton crest everywhere made us so proud. Wearing my Everton shirt, I was amazed at the amount of positive comments and awareness of the locals here towards our Blue boys. But hang on, we were supposed to be playing 30 miles away in Salt Lake - how come there was nothing on show whatsoever there?

OK - so now we ask ourselves one or two pertinent questions on the drive back to our hotel downtown... 

a) SLC: hotel prices double on Monday, boring city surroundings, low-key nightlife; or 

b) PC: more substantial hotel but cheaper rates, gorgeous surroundings, numerous restaurants and bars - and Everton will train here daily? 

NO COMPETITION - Monday came, cue rapid check-out of hotel - moved from 4,000 feet to 7,000 feet above sea level - worrying, ahem, if would be able to cope with the shortness of breath in the higher altitudes! Now we were comfortable, settled and go on walkabouts around the town centre, excellent breakfast brunch - even sat next to a bear! Don't ask... 

In the afternoon we drove around the corner from our hotel to Quinn's Junction (great name for it, that is) where we waited to see if the Everton boys would turn up for training... and yes, they did - this is what we came here for. 

We knew it was Everton on the pitch some 400 yds away. You guessed correctly - Fellaini's hair was the give away, even from that distance! 



Moysie was his usual self - deep in thought. 



Was it, 

"Who the hell can I buy to strengthen this squad?"

"Wish Joleon would hurry up and decide!" 

One or two problems appeared to be obvious to those watching, namely that Pienaar, Osman and Baines seemed to be carrying injuries as they trained alone with Basil whilst the remainder of the boys kicked a ball or two...



However, the ice buckets became extremely popular with the lads... bbrrrrrrrrr, are our guys masochists or what? "Peanut" found a new set of "cool" American wheels, Bainsey did an impersonation  of how "garbage" Carragher was and even Ossie managed to get his leg over too! 

Jo appeared to be the star attraction for the Mexican and Latino fans surrounding the pitch. He didn't disappoint, loads of photos and autographs - the locals lapped this up. A few of them were asking me who the players were - I gave them a run down on each and every one. I was impressed with their awareness of Tim Cahill, Phil Neville and Tim Howard for obvious reasons but then when they talked of Steven Pienaar's exploits in the Gold Cup in South Africa and that he was their favourite - well, that one impressed me even more.



Their questions about the young lads -  Jack Rodwell, Jose Baxter and James Wallace, also warmed me to their knowledge. They were expressing excitement over their ball control and composure. These Mexican supporters may have been young, but their knowledge of Everton's players and EPL football in general took me aback. This trip was making me feel as though Everton were becoming much more popular with real football followers in America and further afield.

The autograph session at the end was brilliant. Although I am getting close to 60, I felt I was back in the 60's drooling over my heroes again... eternal youth, eh, or just a silly old, sad, sentimental git? One thing I can say is that these Everton players and coaching staff behaved impeccably in these spotlight situations - there are no "big star" attitudes and you sense the enjoyment they take from being away from the UK and providing the locals and the North American-based Everton fans with a sense of awe. 



The next day at 6am, I stood outside the closed clubhouse of the Park City public course, only to be told - for the 3rd day in a row - that there was a local club tournament scheduled! Sod it, couldn't be bothered waiting until 11am when I "might" get a round. I drove 15 miles towards SLC and checked in at the Mountain Dell G.C. and wasn't disappointed! The scenery was brilliant, as were the greens. Played a twosome with a local retiree, Gordon, and had a great time as we were perfectly matched. He aimed to the right and drew it into the centre of the fairway; I aimed left and faded it next to him. 



Anyone watching would have giggled at how close we were to each other every time! I won't tell you what we scored though, but I will admit that it takes a lot of balls to play this game - excuse the pun! 

And so to the afternoon sightseeing for Park City, this time the Olympic Village built for the 2002 Winter Games. Two years ago, having made it one of my sightseeing trips, I reported that the Gold, Silver and Bronze medals from those games all came from the Kennecott Copper Mine which was a short distance west of SLC (have a look on Google Earth - it's the largest open cast mine in the world - impressive in depth and size, and dozens of massive dumper trucks with 12ft diameter tyres at an annual cost of $26,000 per tyre!!!). 

Whilst at the Olympic Village, we were lucky enough to catch some kind of International Dry Bob Sled competition taking place, with speeds over the track averaging 66mph. The sleds clattered and screeched over the concrete from the top of the run to the bottom, helluva noisy, but dangerously impressive. I dread to think of the consequences of overshooting the bend. 

We also managed to catch the Aussie freestyle ski-jump team training in the pool below their jumps. Maybe I should have worn the Cahill shirt on this occasion, I might have been invited to their "après-ski" party, knowing what the Aussies are like for celebrating anything! 

Went back to the hotel via the Park City GC and came across a group of Evertonians who had waited there for the tee-time I couldn't be bothered with. Guess what? Yep, sure enough, Moysie and his group were just behind these lads. Had I been patient enough to wait, I could have witnessed them relaxing on the golf course away from the heavy high-altitude training sessions... bloody typical of my luck. 



There is only so much that a life-long Blue can sightsee when his team is around so, at long last, Wednesday, the day of the match. Early morning breakfast, hurried for some obscure reason. No matter what the situation, that child in you still takes over. 

Off to Quinn's Junction at the rush, hoping and praying for another chance to capture yet another training session. This time we scored on all counts and the session was tactics to be played later that evening. Not wanting to give away too much (in case Fergie, Beneathus or Arse get too much out of my descriptions!), these were the defending set-ups for various types of corners, near and far free kicks and where the midfielders would stand ready to pounce on a short clearance - fascinating stuff - and Moysies voiced instructions clear and precise for all except Fellaini,  who had to swap with Jo Lescott on more than one occasion in order to be more aware of his surroundings (yep, that situation worried me too - I would suggest strongly that big Mo needs to learn English a lot, lot faster).



The usual "piggy-in-the-middle" sessions for control and one-touch passing also took place. This appears to be an excellent method for quick passing, something Jo and Oz seem to be extremely good at, including being the "piggy" at blocking the pass. It also appeared to be enjoyable to all involved - neat one-touches and hilarious tackling, feet and bodies everywhere.

 

At the end of the session, yet again, the fans had the opportunity to talk to the players and staff. As they trailed back to the coach, the fans were allowed to be there without police barriers - nice touch, Everton.

Chris Woods with the Yak. I don't know what he's been eating during his time off, but Yak certainly looks a lot leaner than in previous years. Hope it comes off for him after that horrifying Achilles injury and that he gets back to what he used to do best. Feed the Yak? 



Tim Cahill, Phil Neville - again, spending the time in a relaxed mode chatting away to the fervent autograph hunters. Nothing too much for them as the photo calls and autographs were handled with ease, and this on a match day. This time the 58 year old had grown up! I kept my pen in my pocket and listened to the chat instead... brilliant. 

I got immense pleasure talking to Basil. Super-fit, that guy, for his age and so, so pleasant to everyone he talked to. Ultimate professional, and a good left foot, from one of the shots he had - well done, Baz. He had, yet again, spent most of the session with Steven Peinaar - my hero looked for certain that he wouldn't play that night - neither would Peanut! 



Last on the bus - the man himself, Moysie. I wished him every bit of luck for the coming season and asked him if the U.S. Tour had been enjoyable. He replied that they had enjoyed every minute of it as they do each year and that the facilities were second to none. My reply - "So you'll be coming back next year, then, David?" to which Moysie gave me a smile, then chuckled and replied "You never know, do you?"

I was on cloud nine by this stage - the man is awe-inspiring and the words "with dignity" could well have been invented just for him. His team of coaches and players mirror everything about him - serious about what they do, yet humble enough to take time to chat with "idiotic fans" who want to be part of them. 

On the drive back to our hotel I was so chuffed and felt calmly confident about the coming season. Despite the lack of signings, the ongoing lack of finance, and the "is he, isn't he?" Lescott saga, I just got a feeling that our Manager knows exactly where he's going with Everton and that he will continue to improve his team pushing further onwards and upwards, without the so-called media-hyped "super-stars". Believe me, from these training sessions, these guys are the genuine "super-stars" with their feet kept firmly on the ground by their inspirational leader.

And so to the evening of the match.... 

About three hours before the match, we took in the increasing atmosphere of the Rio Tinto Stadium and "sussed out" the surrounding facilities, before arriving outside Squatters Pub in downtown SLC. The old familiar voice of John Lally from Denver screamed at us before we'd even closed the car doors; we realised then that the night would not be a quiet one! Hugs all round. 



Ten tables worth of Everton shirts in the beer garden, all ages - and flags bearing the Everton crest along with cities from the U.S. and local Merseyside districts. Scouse accents, American accents - even a Watford supporter wearing our shirt for the day with the Kansas City boys! Davin and Kristine, who we had previously met at the match in Denver last year, had travelled from Boston - you know, it never ceases to amaze me the lengths that we fans go to for any match experience - maybe not as seriously travelled as Dr David France in his hay-days, but then, I still consider him the ultimate Everton Fan - I'd love to meet him some day - what a guy. 

Having caught up on all the gossip with all the past "U.S. friendly-match" fans, we introduced ourselves to those new fans and threw down the usual bar meal of burger and chips along with a couple of shandies (yep, I'm boring when I have to drive - but sensible too!), the time shot by. John and his dad Frank had just flown in from Denver and had booked a hotel near the ground. Having seen the poor parking facilities earlier that evening, I told them that it would make sense to give them a lift and park the hire car in their hotel car park. We swerved around the rush-hour traffic with a constant barrage of abuse from the pair of them in back and managed to eventually find their hotel. Check-in, a quick change of shirt and they were back with us walking to the stadium. 

Lots of friendly faces, hundreds of different coloured football shirts from all over North and Latin America and, of course, the usual "mutants" wearing their "Sky 4 rags" trying to impress on everyone how brilliant it was to follow a successful team and wondering why the hell we supported a team like Everton! Oh, ye of little faith - and if you know yer history... say no more. 

By now, you will have soaked in all of the match reports, so I won't bore you any more with all of those details. I'll leave you with a few more of the pictures from the one night of the year that us far away fans dream of...

Me and Cathie (Houston) Davin and Kristine (Boston)

  

John Lally (Denver) and dad, Frank Lally (Huyton)

Super-Tim

On a final note that not even the media caught on with, so I consider this an EXCLUSIVE... This is a picture of Moysie the next morning at 10am beside the training pitch. Notice anything unusual about it? 



Believe it or not, the Everton coaching staff and team arrived fully kitted out for their post-match workout only to see that an under-17 girls match was in full flow on their training pitch. Of course, Moysie was straight onto the phone while the team embarrassingly slinked off, stumbling over the fence surrounding the pitch and tumbling down the slope into the nearest building that held a gymnasium. The girls match finished about 20 minutes later. 

Hey, it wouldn't be our dearly beloved Everton if everything went the way we wanted it to, now would it?  Would we have it any other way? As I said earlier, no "super-stars" attitude, we are for real!  

- Submitted by Gerry Quinn, Houston, Texas