To turn to the Premiership, the right words are almost as hard to find as the back of the net. As I left White Hart Lane last Saturday, I heard one Tottenham supporter rebuking his teenaged son for shouting "you're going down" to a bunch of gloomy Everton fans climbing aboard a supporters' club coach. "You were wrong to say that," he said, and my heart leapt in gratitude. Here was a man of sensitivity and wisdom, who plainly recognised that Everton were a better team than bottom place suggested. "They know that already, son," he added, "without you telling them." He was wrong. Moyes is, unequivocally, the man to get us out of this mess, and I don't know any Evertonians who have resigned themselves to the unthinkable.
Relegation is never settled by Hallowe'en, nor are championships won, despite the fact that some publicity-hungry bookmakers have already paid out on Chelsea. On which subject, the champions visit Goodison Park tomorrow, a reminder that 27 years is a long time in football I was there in April 1978 when Everton hammered Chelsea 6-0. Bob Latchford scored two that day, becoming the first player that season to score 30 League goals, which won him a £10,000 prize from the Daily Express. Goodison celebrated as if we had won the League, FA Cup and European Cup treble, not least because it was something we had that all-conquering Liverpool didn't So in other respects, 27 years is not such a long time. As for tomorrow's match, even the most optimistic Evertonian knows that a 6-0 thumping can only go one way But I'm going to have a bet on a 1-0 home win Self-delusion doesn't always mean that you've got it wrong Who I like this week...
Cheryl Ladd, the former Charlie's Angels actress, who has written a book called Token Chick - A Woman's Guide To Golfing With The Boys. In it, Miss Ladd (pictured) has devoted a chapter to a 57-year-old recovering alcoholic called Jimmy Kelly, a caddie at Gleneagles in Perthshire, whom she met 14 years ago. The idea of a Hollywood blonde knocking about with a raddled Scotsman by the name of Jimmy is beguiling enough (she once bet him £5 that he couldn't go a full 18 holes without swearing, and he made it only to the second tee), but she also recognises the traditional gifts of old-school caddies, who are so often the only people able to puncture the gigantic egos of film stars and captains of industry. And who I don't Politicians who claim devotion to a particular football club to win credibility with the electorate. Tony Blair was quickly rumbled as not being quite the Newcastle United aficionado that he made himself out to be, and I'm told that, with Heart of Midlothian riding high at the top of the Scottish Premier League, there are Hearts fans positively tumbling out of the closet both in the Scottish Parliament and at Westminster - including Charlie Falconer, the Lord Chancellor. At least the Labour former junior minister Baron Foulkes of Cumnock can claim to be a real Jambo: he's chairman of the club, and was spotted in an overexcited state at the recent Rangers game conducting the crowd in song from the front row of the Tynecastle directors' box.
