📆 𝒟ℴ𝓌𝓃 𝒯𝒽ℯ 𝒴ℯ𝒶𝓇𝓈 🔵
🗓️ 7th January 2012
A group of Everton fans voice their frustration with Bill Kenwright over the running of the club outside Goodison Park, prior to a 3rd round FA Cup tie against Tamworth.
When Duncan Ferguson got home from Everton’s game at Watford in January 2001, it was around one in the morning and he was still too full of adrenaline to sleep.
His wife Janine had gone upstairs.
Their daughter Evie was six months old and asleep in bed.
Ferguson stayed on the sofa in his tracksuit bottoms, waiting for himself to calm down after the game.
Ferguson had heard a noise somewhere in the house, but had not thought much of it.
When he heard it again, he stood up and saw two shadows moving through the conservatory.
They were trying to leave with some champagne, a picture and a collection of CDs.
Ferguson went straight after them.
One of the men escaped immediately.
The other stayed and tried to fight him.
Ferguson knocked him to the floor and kept hitting him until Janine came downstairs and saw what was happening.
“Stop it, Duncan, stop it!”
“You’re going to kill him!”
Ferguson looked down and realised there was blood everywhere.
Only now, the anger had gone and he thought the man was dead.
He rolled him onto his side, cleared the blood from his mouth and tried to bring him round.
“Are you all right, son?”
There was no response.
Janine stood nearby asking what she should do.
“Will I phone the police or an ambulance?”
“Both.”
The police arrived first.
One of the officers took a look at Ferguson and the man lying on the floor.
“What have you done, Dunc?”
“Jesus, go and clean yourself up.”
The paramedics managed to revive the burglar before taking him to hospital, where he remained for three days.
By the morning, Walter Smith already knew something had happened.
Ferguson phoned him at eight o’clock.
“Boss, I’ve had some trouble.”
“Yes, I know.”
“You’re ringing me early in the morning.”
“Boss, a burglar broke into my place last night.”
Smith only had one question.
“How bad is he?”
The two men were eventually caught and jailed for 15 months.
The judge told the court that Ferguson may have given the impression of being a hard man, but the break-in had left him shaken because his wife and young daughter had been upstairs.
Janine no longer felt safe in the house, so the family moved to Formby.
Two years later, another burglar broke into their new home.
Once again, the champagne was being taken.
This time, the man came at Ferguson with a vodka bottle.
Ferguson ducked and caught him with a right hand.
The burglar went down and Ferguson returned upstairs.
“You’ll never guess what’s just happened.”
Janine knew immediately.
“You have caught somebody again.”
“Yes, and I’ve left him to crawl away.”
Janine told him to go back outside and check because the man might die.
He had only managed to crawl a few feet.
Ferguson called the police and an ambulance again.
The burglar spent two days in hospital with a broken jaw and three missing teeth.
“Everyone has a right to protect their home and their family.”
“Any intruder deserves what they get.”
#football
Bin dipping, murderers and scroungers shouts again. And this vermin wonders why the streets of the Republic, Scotland and Wales erupt at any English setback. We’re supposed to be English and we’ve been on the end of a fraction of what they have but it’s insufferable and draining.
I’d love to hear from folk older than me how highly Suarez ranks among footballers to play for Liverpool in their lifetime.
Not him as a Liverpool player, but as a footballer who happens to play for Liverpool if you get me.
No doubt Mo and VVD are better Liverpool players because of the longevity and achievements…
But Suarez is the best footballer we’ve had in my life. In terms of talent, skill, ability he’s top.
Gerrard aside, how far do you have to go back before a player tops Suarez’s level?