We want it all and we want it now

A couple of years ago, one of the footy mags ran an article, jokily imagining what the letters of football clubs' names might stand for. All the obvious big-name teams were there, of course. Then there was Tranmere. "Transformed Region And May Now Effectively Replace Everton."

If things at Goodison have been ever so slightly disappointing this season, you only have to remember how recently that sort of Emlyn-scale nonsense was being muttered to realize how bad things were, and how much better they have become under Big Joe.

But, us Everton fans, we don't want much. Just everything, at home and abroad, three years running, playing football that has the Ajax coaching staff weeping into their Heinekens with envy. Until we get that, we'll never really be happy.

So what are we complaining about at the moment? The transfer record, for a start. Last summer, having won the Cup, hopes could not have been higher. Season ticket sales had trebled in two years. The fans were ready to pack Goodison every week. And chairman Peter Johnson, it was widely reported, had given Royle pounds 15m to put the world's best in a blue shirt.

Then the Kanchelskis affair threw a bucket of cold Mancunian water over everything. While other big clubs were parading exotic new superstars every week, blue blood slowly turned to ice at the thought that we might end up with nobody. It was all sorted out, of course, but too late to affect our nervous start in the Premiership and dismal, short-lived effort in Europe.

Meanwhile, it became clear the pounds 15m included the fees already spent on Funkin' Duncan (usually unavailable but good) and Earl Barrett (always unavailable and no good). In other words, after Andrei and Endsleigh League big-lad-at-the-back Craig Short, there was actually no money. So with the team half-built, that was the end of the transfer trail.

For a while things looked gloomy. In darker moments, it was hard not to look across the park and wonder how two Evertonians, Fowler and McManaman, had been plucked from our very bosom to lead a red-nose renaissance. While Liverpool had looked round the corner for a young Blue who could score goals with his eyes shut, we had preferred to go to Belgium to spend pounds 3m on a Nigerian who, skilful and likeable though he was, sometimes played whole games like that.

Now, after a good run, the outlook is a lot more cheerful. Kanchelskis is a joy, while a fit (for a while) Ferguson is easily the most terrifying Scottish maurauder English defences have faced since Mel Gibson. Perhaps even more welcome is the home-produced talent arriving in the team. Grant is easing in, O'Connor has looked good, and waiting to explode in a year or two is the 17-year-old Michael Branch, the `Electric Blue', a striker said to make Fowler look like Brett Angell.

So, all Joe has to do now is use some of his new Umbro money to kit us out with the men we need. Who? Well, if I were manager I know what I'd do. I'd call Alan Ball, tell him how as a small boy I asked God to bless him every night for five-and-a-bit years, and then ask him to sell me Georgi Kinkladze for any money he likes.

Joe probably has other plans. But he knows the kind of players Goodison adores, and those it doesn't. So Royle will make the right moves, you can be sure. If he does, next season could be vintage - and the true meaning of Everton may be revealed at last. `Entertainment Vehicle Extraordinary, Roaring Towards Our Nirvana.' Didn't you know?