Getting so much money from Sky - all £10.4M of it - despite finishing with the lowest points total in your then 125-year history was a great blessing in disguise.  It meant we then didn't have to sell our assets.

Unfortunately, despite the Chairman's greatest efforts, we lost our then greatest asset (second to Moyes) — even though he was under contract for two more seasons.  Ah well, he wanted to go so fair's fair.  The Chairman secured the greatest ever transfer fee in the history of this Club of ours.  Fact.  Top man!

We then have no time to spend the £3.47 so into the season we went, on a wing and a prayer.  And whatever little else we could muster.

Day One: OUCH!  Well and truly stuffed by the Champions.  This is gonna be a long and hard season.

Day Two:  Trailing to an early goal at Palace, who knew then what lay ahead, eh?  Two goals from Thomas Gravesen and another from Marcus Bent allayed the fears, albeit temporarily.  I do believe Mr Moyes remained favourite with the bookies at this time to become the first manager relieved of his duty...

And then, well, we kinda went on a funny sort of run. Rooney was sold and we just kept on winning games. Average type of performance at home to West Brom saw young Osman state his case with a brace.  From somewhere, Everton had actually won two of the first three games.

An early kick off at Old Trafford saw Everton not rounding up the wagons and praying for mercy at the hand of those bastards who'd taken our Wayne.  No Sir, Everton — or what remained — rose to the challenge and gave as good as they took.  It may have ended 0-0 but we knew who'd earned the moral victory.  A day of days early into the season.

Everton being Everton — well, only we could have a player who scores a winning away goal and gets sent off for showing his belly button!  Tim Cahill at Man City, the ground where we died last season, the final nail in the Everton coffin.  Someone forgot to bury us as this time around it was an entirely different story.  Fuck me..... is that a smile on Evertonian faces I see?

Marcus Bent put paid to big spending Middlesbrough on a sunny September Sunday and we even won a penalty shoot out the following week down at Bristol City in the League Cup.  Everton winning penalty shoot-outs???  Strange days indeed...

Tim Cahill carried on pretending to be Gary Speed by popping up in the opponents box to head home winning goals for Everton.  We were now third in the League!  The Chairman went on 5Live to confirm the arrival of £30M in January, "for the manager".  Excellent!!!  That and the Rooney money.  And Phil Green's credit line if needed?  Oh yes!

Of course it was too good to be true.  Moyes was supposed to be unemployed at this stage and Everton were supposed to be down in the relegation zone where we belong. Tottenham came along and did what Tottenham do best.  Beating us.  As they always do.  C'est la vie.

Leon Osman reminded us all that Tim Cahill wasn't alone in turning one point into three, as he popped in a late winner against Southampton at Goodison.  Still third and loving every minute of it.

Everton on TV?  Oh fuck..... we all know what this means!  Away to Norwich early meant away fans had to travel at ungodly hours.  Didn't matter how tired they were on the return journey as three goals scored beats two conceded and Everton had won away from home AGAIN!  Icing on the cake?  Some arl crock by the name of Ferguson managed to ease his body onto the pitch to rescue a game that was in the balance.

And so it went on and on and on.  We were enjoying the ride, suffering the odd setback along the way.  The Fortress money was due shortly so we knew we'd have that to fall back on should we actually need it.  By the time we faced Liverpool in the first Merseyside derby of the season we were miles ahead of them. Unbelievable when you consider the supposed strengths of both clubs.  The stats may show a lone Lee Carsley strike separating both sides at the end of 90 minutes but did that result speak volumes for us.  And them, I suppose. Party time.  Almost safe from relegation, Easter eggs at the ready — and it not yet Christmas.  And second for 24 hours.  Some G14 clubs began to get sweaty at the thoughts of this Moyes-led Everton nonsense continuing.

Enter Madrid.  G14 club in need of a Lee Carsley type holding player.  They went home with Gravesen.  But suffer we did.  Our results dipped, our form disappeared.  Liverpool and other also rans scented a second bite of the cherry.  The Fortress remained overseas.  Moyes remained relatively penniless and we didn't avail of the chance to pull further ahead.

We went to Tottenham.  Tottenham did what Tottenham do best.  Beating us.  As they always do.  C'est la vie.

For the rest of January and indeed February we struggled.  We looked tired and running on empty.  And yet the spirit remained.  The body willing but the legs fucked.  Game over Everton?  Not so!  On a days of days (again), at Villa Park where we only win FA Cup semi-finals, we enjoyed, not endured, a wonderful 90 minutes laughing at O'Leary's Villa.  Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful — I say it thrice — as we smashed Villa and announced to all around us that there's life yet in Everton.  Oh yes!

Three defeats in a row posed serious questions of Everton's dreams of grandeur in Europe but a timely 4-0 trouncing of Palace simply epitomised what this dogged collection of players we have wearing Royal Blue shirts are all about this season.  They dug that result out of nowhere, keeping the pack at bay.

Breathing space.

And then came Manchester United.  Says it all, I suppose, the desperation of our rivals from across Stanley Park that the team they despise most, from Manchester, were suddenly the team they wanted to see doing them a favour.  No Siree...

Oh what a night!  Not quite a night of Bayern Munich proportions but one to savour till death do us part nonetheless.  Magic.  If only you could bottle the feeling.  Duncan, that crock, did the business again.  Oh how he had loved the big stage years ago, and against the Mancs.  Twas like old times indeed.  Fourth and fighting fit, new legs in the side!

And then he did it again.  Just when you feared Everton would do what Everton do best — letting you down.  Up appeared himself again, the arl crock by the name of Ferguson, with such a precious late leveller against Birmingham.  May only have been a point but that point ensured Liverpool could not catch us with a win at Palace.  We should've known better: Liverpool on their domestic travels this season have been pretty dreadful.

Four games left and we're standing on the edge of achieving something quite monumental by our own very poor standards of recent times.  We may get no trophies for the achievements of the team and manager this season but who gives a fuck?  Our pride has been well and truly restored.

So many kids have, probably for the first time in their lives, seen and enjoyed a season like never before.  To see the smiles on the kids' faces..... you simply can't buy that.

And tonight, as it's confirmed, well......I'm stuck for words and fuck the arl arses and begrudgers...... I've a tear in me eye reading those words "EVERTON ARE IN EUROPE!"

I am so so so proud of my Club tonight.  Thank you.

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

I feel a celebratory bottle opening is now in order.

Enjoy yours.

Happy Birthday David Moyes.