Mad dogs and Everton men – Lorik Cana is the perfect nutter for Toffees

The legend goes that when someone presented U.S. President Franklin D Roosevelt with the disgusting actions of a man supposedly on his side, Nicaraguan dictator Anastasio Somoza, he muttered: “He may be a sonofabitch, but he’s our sonofabitch.”

Ever since David Moyes took the reins at Everton he has been hunting for a “sonofabitch” to call our own. Over the seasons bids have been tabled for Blackburn’s Robbie Savage, Newcastle’s Emre and Joey Barton – three villains of the Premier League pantomime. Players who play like hate was their first love, who rely on the dark arts of football, literally throwing everything but the kitchen sink at a game; diving, niggling, harrying, swearing, punching, spitting and even on occasion baring their arses to the opposition. Players who use this melting pot of pugnacious and sly tools and whose skills, although present, are always cocooned in nastiness.

People might argue that Everton had a plentiful supply of them under Joe Royle, with the “dogs of war” but although we played like a WWI field unit I never detected much malice in Barry Horne, John Ebbrell or Joe Parkinson, a workmanlike and honest triumvirate, no so much unfit to lace the boots of the Kendall, Harvey, Ball trinity but who spoke utterly different football languages.

Since then, the closest most non-Evertonians feel we have come to a “sonofabitch” is Thomas Gravesen, a man who ticked every box in the lunatic midfielder requirements, a player who looked ready to literally dive for the jugular, but who was actually a trickster.

But in terms of being a psycho he was a mirage. I am so tired of people making the brain-dead move of instantly associating a man with a shaved head and the moniker “Mad Dog” with the stereotype of a tough-tackling midfielder. Gravesen was a terrible tackler; he wasn’t the least bit like Roy Keane.

Gravesen’s attempts at being the enforcer consisted of careering around the pitch following the football like a celebrity stalker on amphetamines. However, Gravesen did have sublime skills and was a lovely passer of the ball – he had the same talent as Zinedine Zidane (albeit in far less abundance) of being able to send such a perfectly weighted pass that the ball literally stopped at the intended recipient’s feet.

Grav also had the unfortunate problem of occasionally getting carried away and trying to take on the whole team, but instead of progressing towards their goal, he invariably ended up by one of their corner flags. It made me laugh when Real Madrid bought him to be their enforcer.

Giving Grav the label of a tough tackler is weak journalism. It is only because of his shaved head and wild eyes that people think he is a pseudo-Keano – that and the fact people got him confused with Lee Carsley. Even Mikel Arteta has more right to the tough-tackling moniker than Grav. The nickname “Blue-Arsed Fly” would have suited Grav far better. So where do we stand now?

Carsley is getting older and he will need to be replaced, Manuel Fernandes (if signed) would be, at worst, a drifter and, at best, a skillful manipulator – but definitely not a “sonofabitch”. Personally I have mixed feelings about a potential “sonofabitch” – they could, and probably would, destroy the much-vaunted Everton team spirit, or they could provide the final impetus for our constant push up the table. Ideally we’d have a player who is a supreme enforcer but never crosses the line into sonofabitch-dom and all the disciplinary and off-pitch problems they can bring; but those players are rare which is why players like Patrick Vieira and Roy Keane, are truly priceless.

Enter Albanian nut-bar Lorik Cana, a tough-as-nails enforcer and the captain of Marseille. It would be a stretch to sign him – he is being chased by countless “big” clubs – but with fourth place within our grasp (after Liverpool’s 3-0 drubbing against Manchester United) – we may just be able to bag the pugnacious nutter in the summer.