YESTERDAY'S official team sheet had Sven Goran Eriksson listed as the Blackburn Rovers manager. It could be six months or so before Eriksson relinquishes control at Sampdoria and swaps fashionable Genoa for homely Lancashire but, even so, he will be smiling this morning.
On a night which was also to emphasise the rapid decline of Everton, Blackburn won a League game away from home for the first time all season. Easy it was too.
It was a result sufficient to move them out of the Premiership's bottom three, and a performance sufficiently competent to suggest that altogether happier, more fulfilling times do lay ahead for the 1995 champions.
Everton? A third consecutive defeat drove deeper the wedge between supporters and team. Midtable anonymity beckons and a season which once held so much promise will be reduced to rubble should Swindon Town triumph in Sunday's FA Cup third round tie.
On Saturday, after a team pared back to the bone by injuries, had been felled - emphatically so - by Wimbledon, Everton had walked out of the old year to a crescendo of cat calls. The calendar had changed but precious little else.
Everton were again missing five players who would normally expect first team football. But, as their detractors will tell you, they were still able to field nine full internationals.
In truth, some of Everton's football was lovely, but at the crucial points when it really mattered, they continued to make the simple appear difficult. It is a most unfortunate habit and one which is fast eroding an obvious potential. The Merseysiders thundered forward marvellously early on, constantly enveloping the Blackburn defence and hinting at better things to come.
It all came to nothing and they were to be undone just 19 minutes in by a goal of breathtaking precision. It came from the left but that was inevitable for having isolated Hottiger as the weak link in Everton's makeshift defence, Blackburn spent the entire evening hugging that particular touchline.
Bohinen laid the ball off to Le Saux who clipped forwards to the perimeter of Everton's penalty area. Gallacher rose to flick it on, intelligently and deftly, one quick touch by Chris Sutton and it was left to Tim Sherwood to slip a low shot beyond Southall.
Constructed and executed as it was on a playing surface which did nothing to encourage or accommodate artistry, the goal was a positive delight.
As the groans of discontent began to provide a somewhat ugly backdrop, Everton sought forgiveness and redemption but, probably significantly, by way of effort - rather than guile. Their better moments were always undone by wayward or over ambitious passes. It was almost painful to watch. Sensing their opponents unease Blackburn promptly sought to extend, rather than defend, their advantage. The surprise was it took them so long to so do.
Twelve minutes of the opening half remained when the Everton back line was split wide open for a second time. Again it was a sweet, almost effortless goal.
Again it was made to look alarmingly simple. Gallacher, fed by Sherwood, slipped the ball forwards into the path of Sutton, who made much of some poor marking to steer in a low shot of no great power.
