Everton and technical partner hummel are proud to collaborate to present My Everton, a weekly series of first-hand accounts describing the most-treasured memories of fans, players, and staff both past and present.
Got an entry? We'd love to hear it – and there are exclusive prizes for the best fan submissions, including VIP tickets to First Team matches, invitations to watch training at Finch Farm, signed merchandise and discount on hummel.net. Submit via email to firstname.lastname@example.org.
I was born in Broadgreen Hospital on 29 August 1945.
I had a grandfather and five uncles who were all Evertonians, so it's no surprise that I, too, am a Blue. We were all extremely shocked when, at the age of 70, my mother revealed she was a secret Red!
I was brought up in my father's hometown of Carlisle. I had to travel down by train to watch Everton.
On Saturday 20 April 1963, I joined my grandfather and uncles in the Park End in a crowd of 67,650. Spurs were at Goodison that day looking to win the league, but when 'The Golden Vision', Alex Young, rose at the Gwladys Street end to head home what would be the winner in the 17th minute. we knew WE were going to be the champions. The ground erupted!
There was five games left to play. We won four and drew one, finishing on 61 points, with Spurs second on 55.
I've written a poem, which captures some of Everton's history and our aspirations for the future.
Will the Mersey flow royal blue again?
Will its proud waves rise for the Everton men?
Will it swell and roll to the Goodison roar,
When it sounds anew round Bramley Moore.
Our fathers told of the days of yore,
Of Dixie Dean and his goals galore,
When his 60th strike brought the thunderous roar,
and the Mersey flowed royal blue once more.
Oh! The Merseysound of '63,
When Merseyside was the place to be,
When the Golden Vision graced the hallowed ground,
And the league championship was Goodison bound.
Will we ever see the like of the Kendall men,
When the wide river flowed royal blue again,
But the European ban left our dreams forlorn,
And our grandsons wait for another golden dawn.
By Les Barnes, Evertonian