By Chris Kirwan
August 15 2002

This was a game that finally confirmed that we were to see more expansive football under Moyes than had ever been played under Smith. If Walter had been in charge the match would have panned out as most of his performances away from Goodison did; Everton set out content for a point, concede silly goal, and the game ambles towards an inevitable defeat.And to be fair I would have settled for a point, it was David Moyes’ first away game in charge of the Blues, we had a terrible record away from home and John Gregory’s side were having a mini-revival. But the Blues decided that they were going to go out and win in style.

As I arrived in the armpit of the East Midlands I decided against the walk into Derby town centre, as there is very little there, and walked to the ground. The walk to Pride Park is very deceiving; from the Train Station it looks like an extremely short walk, but somehow the pavement keeps on going... maybe that’s just me being lazy.

As I entered Pride Park/The Riverside Stadium the place was teeming with Evertonians with “The People’s Club” banners. Moyes had already emblazoned himself on the club. Since Derby have the same ground as Middlesbrough they obviously decided to have similar supporters, equipped with illusions of self-grandeur. They were singing their usual taunt at Ferguson of “He’s fat, he’s shit, he’s never f*cking fit, Ferguson, Ferguson”. I don’t want to be one to nit-pick…. but I’m going to. Never fit: I’ll let that one go, shit: their opinion (but wrong), but how is Duncan Ferguson FAT, are they talking about the same man who is often referred to as lanky, or gangly. He might have put a few pounds on due to injury but the man’s hardly Rick Waller.

The game started scrappily, as you would expect from two sides that were struggling in the lower regions of the league, with both sides reduced to hopeful long-range efforts. Then, close to half time, Gravesen picked up a Derby clearance and swept the ball to the left where Unsworth hit an unstoppable shot low into the corner of the Derby net. It was strange to see the effect that Moyes had already had on previously under-achieving players, after a similarly terrific strike in the previous match against Fulham Unsworth was seemed to be playing like Roberto Carlos (if slightly more clumsy). Everton went into half time buoyed by the lead, while Derby’s biggest crowd of the season were largely downbeat.

In the second half the Blues carried on where they had left off. Alexandersson won a free kick on the edge of the box, and Alan Stubbs stepped up. Everybody in the crowd knew what was coming, and the Derby wall looked like they were facing the firing squad. Stubbsy took a run-up of West Indies fast bowler proportions and hammered the ball into the back of the net, nearly taking the goal into another county.

We were stunned in the away end; two goals away from home, under Smith we couldn’t even score two away to the likes of Leicester and Stoke. But the goal fest was not to end there. The Blues scented blood and were flying forward like kids in a playground, everybody wanting their name on the scoresheet, and after Gemmill and The Big Man failed to connect with a ball across the six yard box it was left to Alexandersson to convert the simplest of chances.

Us fans were in a state of shock, and so it seemed were the players as the proceeded to let Derby back into the game. Strupar struck a cracking volley into the Everton net. But this was the all-new improved Everton, if they score then we’ll just have to go and score another. It was left to The Big Man to do the honours, after good work again by Alexandersson, the ball came to Ferguson on the penalty spot and he lashed it home left footed. Who was shit now Derby?! This relaxed the away support, and started the chants of “4-1, to The People’s Club”.

These chants soon became “4-2, to The People’s Club” after a Morris goal; and then “4-3, to The People’s Club” after another Strupar effort. I say this but in all reality there was no such chanting, as we were all too terrified to do such a thing. Time was running out for Derby and Duncan was holding the ball up superbly in their half; Riggott seemed scared to go near the big Scot. However we still feared a similar fate as we had experienced at Bolton. But we shouldn’t have worried, this was Moyes’ Everton, the final whistle went and we heaved a collective sigh of relief. This was a huge result, and a giant step towards safety.

The walk back to the station didn’t seem as long as the walk there (I clearly am lazy) aided by the sight of despondent Derby fans. I proudly displayed my “Ferguson 24” shirt on the train back to my hometown of Leicester, something that must have riled the Leicester branch of Rams supporters, but if you insist on getting The Big Man angry you’ve got to be prepared to face the consequences. I talked to a fellow Blue on the train back to Leicester and we agreed that the experience of an away victory was one that we rarely experienced as Evertonians, but one where we scored 4 goals was especially sweet. We were in a state of both shock and ecstasy. As I got off the train I was stopped by a group of Leicester fans who asked what the score had been, their faces reflected the same, shocked that Everton had managed to score 4 away from home, and ecstatic that their beloved neighbours were stepping closer to the drop.

For Everton relegation was becoming increasingly unlikely, and we could sit back and enjoy the attacking football (Yes, i did just mention Everton and attacking football).