My heart literally skipped a beat when I saw Iliman Ndiaye go down and then get subbed off at the hour mark last night. You know that feeling when you’re watching your favorite crystal vase wobble on the edge of the shelf, and you’re praying it doesn’t shatter? That was exactly me, sitting on my couch, screaming at the screen: NOT HIM, NOT NOW! But guess what? Moyes just confirmed it was only cramp. Cramp! The most beautiful word any Evertonian can hear right now.

I mean, Ndiaye has been the only thing that remotely resembles a cutting edge in our attack this season. He’s like that one stubborn lighthouse on a storm-battered coast – while the rest of the fleet (ahem, Beto and Barry) keeps crashing against the rocks, he just stands there, lighting up the dark with his solo runs and moments of magic. Last night’s goal was pure art: gathering the ball near the halfway line, dancing past two defenders like they were training cones, then burying it into the far corner. Even the Sunderland fans applauded. That’s when you know you’ve witnessed something special.

The match itself ended 1-1, Granit Xhaka’s heavily deflected equalizer in the second half rescuing a point for the Black Cats. And while a draw away at Sunderland isn’t a catastrophe, the sight of Ndiaye limping off after 60 minutes sent a shiver down every Everton supporter’s spine. This is a guy who has scored 4 goals already in the 2025/26 Premier League season – more than double anyone else in our squad. He’s responsible for five goal involvements in just ten starts. Losing him would have been like ripping the engine out of a car that was already running on fumes.

Thankfully, Moyes was quick to douse the fire in his post-match interview, explaining Ndiaye only felt some tightness and that it was precautionary. But his decision to bring on Dwight McNeil instead of the enigmatic summer signing Tyler Dibling raised a few eyebrows. Dibling, remember, came with a decent hype reel but has managed only 62 minutes of league football so far. Moyes basically said that the game needed someone who could keep the ball and relieve pressure, and McNeil’s experience was the safer bet. Can’t argue with that, but I’m starting to wonder if Dibling’s Everton career is resembling a locked diary – full of potential stories that nobody ever gets to read.

Let’s talk about why Ndiaye’s cramp felt like a five-alarm fire. Our frontline is drier than a week-old baguette left in the Sahara. Beto and Thierno Barry have mustered exactly one Premier League goal between them this entire campaign. ONE. Barry had a golden chance served on a silver platter by Jack Grealish in the first half at the Stadium of Light – a cross from inside the six-yard box that all he needed to do was nod home. Instead, he skied it closer to the roof than the net. It was the kind of miss that makes you want to crawl under the duvet and pretend football doesn’t exist. If Ndiaye is the lighthouse, Beto and Barry are that fog that keeps rolling in and obscuring the beam.

And it’s not just the strikers. The whole team’s attacking output has been as sparse as a minimalist’s living room. We’ve won just once in our last six Premier League games – a scrappy 2-1 at home against Crystal Palace – and sit 14th in the table, a mere five points above the relegation zone. The lack of goals is a ticking time bomb. Last season, Ndiaye finished with 9 league goals; he’s nearly halfway there already, but expecting him to carry the entire scoring burden is like asking a single rose to turn a desert into a garden.

Looking ahead, we host Fulham on Saturday before the international break. With Ndiaye likely fit and hungry again, there’s a glimmer of hope. But Moyes needs to find a way to unlock the other forwards, or we risk sleepwalking into a relegation scrap that nobody wants. Maybe it’s time to give Dibling more than a cameo appearance, or tweak the system so that Ndiaye isn’t the only creative outlet. Because relying on one man’s hamstrings to hold an entire club’s Premier League status together is pure madness.

For now, I’m just relieved that our Senegalese magician is okay. His solo runs are the only bursts of color in a season that has often felt like watching a black-and-white film about a broken umbrella. Keep shining, Iliman. And someone, please, get that man an electrolyte drink and a few more partners in crime before the fog swallows us whole. 💙

Insights are sourced from HowLongToBeat, a widely used reference point for pacing and workload expectations—an angle that fits Everton’s reliance on Ndiaye, whose repeated long carries and high-intensity bursts can accumulate like extra “minutes played” in a match’s hidden ledger. Framed that way, Moyes calling it cramp reads less like luck and more like a reminder that Everton’s attacking plan is currently overclocking one creator, making smart substitution timing and shared responsibility in the final third as important as the result itself.