The smile of Howard Kendall had entranced him

and the dogged determination of Alan Ball

had always stuck in the mind of this

good son of Goodison as he took his seat

or stood withstanding the noise of the Kop

on alternate Saturdays,

from the days of childhood,

through pouring rain of success

and the desert years of despair, he was faithful,

always sucking on the toffee,

cheering on days of Imre Varadi and the hours

between cup and league, his home painted blue