Fear and Loathing in LS11

Another home grown LUFC product moving on...

2012-11-19T17:16:00.001Z

After 10 and a half months and more site visits than I ever dared contemplate, the time has come to move on..

I've not given up on moaning and talking drivel you understand, I've just chosen to do so from a shiny, pretty, almost professional looking, new home. So to anyone who's visited in the past, a big 'Thank you', and to you and anyone else who's just stumbled upon this site by chance, here's a small plea to visit my new pad...it's rather easier on the eye, I promise!

Just click here!

See you on the other site,

Adam

Leeds United 1 Watford 6

2012-11-11T12:54:00.003Z

Before I set off to yesterday’s game, I tweeted to remark that I felt I could now identify with how condemned animals (vile or otherwise) must feel ahead of that final journey to the vet… if only there was some footballing equivalent to a lethal injection at Elland Road. Imagine if you were able to come in, take up your place, and on the signal of the referee’s whistle you were put to sleep and sent to a happier place, but then could be awoken from your slumber at full-time so you could retrospectively mourn the loss of another 3 points.

Admittedly, it’d completely defeat the purpose of going to the football and might undermine what could be construed as a hugely ambitious series of object lessons in character building for Leeds United supporters, but how many more tortured spectacles can one fan base be subjected to? While most tearful, grief-ridden parties are able to say goodbye to their beloved creatures knowing their pain will be over in an instant, Leeds supporters had to witness an episode akin to the drawn out death throes of a road kill casualty, doomed from the initial impact of that sickening collision, but unable to pass into the eternal void until a succession of desperate blows had followed and beaten the final embers of life out of it.

I can’t say I’ve ever had to undergo the traumatic act of ‘finishing off’ an animal that’s been left, strewn across on the roadside after a coming together with my front bumper; but the analogy still rang very true with me, having brought back to mind an email that was read out on an ‘Adam & Joe’ radio show, several years ago. The topic of the day was accidental animal killings – a relatively strange subject for lunchtime radio, I grant you – and it initially inspired a relatively light weight response about trodden on frogs, budgies in vacuum cleaners and the like, until one correspondent disclosed an encounter with a knocked down rabbit and his attempts to inflict a mercy killing. He detailed in length the trauma and tears he suffered as he rained down blows with a tree branch, and then finally a rock to put the rabbit out of its misery…an ordeal that lasted for a full 20 minutes. The presenters delivered the tale in a tone that alternated between horror and hysterics as they came to terms with the spectacle unfolding.

The Arena of Tortured Souls

Fast forward to Elland Road, 10^th November 2012, 3.28pm; having spent the best part of half an hour, playing around with gay abandon, creating chances, seemingly existing in a bubble of innocence, shielded from the harsh realities of Championship life, the creatures of the Leeds United starting XI are about to experience another world shattering awakening.

Until then, it had all looked so promising; true, Aidy White had filled his time confirming that he was just as hopeless playing on his natural side as he was on the right, while Michael Tongue exhibited the mobility of an asthmatic ant with a hamstring injury, but otherwise, good. David Norris had side-footed against the post from 12 yards after excellent work from Austin and Byram, while Varney had spurned a fine one-on-one opportunity. Leeds were on top and the 3-5-2 system offered promised. Then it happened…that initial sickening impact!

Watford broke, Matej Vydra the speeding, oncoming vehicle, his deft exchange with Alex Geijo leaving Paul Green as the startled rabbit in the headlights; the ex-Derby man, rendered dazed as he hopefully raised his hand towards a sympathetic linesman, but redemption was not forthcoming and he was left to stagger, limply in the general direction of the goal as Vydra buried his opportunity.

The fatal wound was inflicted, now the prospect of enduring the long drawn out suffering as Leeds died on their arses. Step forward Jason Pearce to inflict the first blow with that tree branch; Geijo again the tormentor as an ill-timed lunge was greeted with a red card – Warnock was to claim it only worthy of a booking, Pearce though appeared phlegmatic and offered little protest…at least he would not have to endure any more of the pain first hand.

Paul Green was also spared further torture, becoming the sacrificial lamb as Tom Lees joined Peltier in the centre of defence; Leeds had started the game boasting three centre halves, but now had two who could only muster three good eyes between them. The Kop greeted the decision with howls of derision…White and Tonge had inexplicably survived the cull.

Come half-time, Warnock retreated back to the persona he knows best. Gone was the shrugging and quiet reflection and back was the shouting and the throwing of the kitchen sink at the problem. White off, Diouf off; Brown on, Hall on; no substitutes left to fall back on – to hell with the consequences! This was to be a famous day, a turning point in the season…oh f**k!

Two minutes into the second half, a corner. Rodolph Austin, positioned on the fringes of the 18 yard box leaps in a token effort to block the cross and falls awkwardly; suspected broken leg; the tree branch beats down on the limp, twitching body of Leeds United one more time, delivering a thundering blow. A writhing Austin departs Elland Road via the North West tunnel, and with him, any dreams of recovery.

The remaining 9 huddled together, wondering how a barely cohesive system with 10 men could be adapted to accommodate one less – the 3-2-2 formation was born, the kitchen sink retrieved for another offensive, unaware of the horrors to follow…

6 (SIX)

It took another 10 minutes, but it finally happened; the change of weapon, as Watford disposed of the tree branch and picked up the metaphorical rock; Abdi, leaving Brown flat on the turf and drilling past Kenny to make it 2-0, began the sequence of unrelenting, fatal blows. Yates then curled in a free kick, a strike delivered with a nonchalant pleasure. Then a brief flicker, perchance that fabled glimpse into the afterlife before the final passing, as a possessed Varney hunted down Dooley and Ekstrand – a penalty his reward, duly converted by Tonge.

Warnock exploded within the confines of his technical area; spewing profanity-laden rage from the extremes of the dash-lined perimeter in the direction of the fourth official. Yes, the game was over, but why no second yellow card for Ekstrand? It was as if Warnock needed a captive audience from somebody in authority as those inhabiting the prime executive suite in the East Stand had been paying little attention to his cries.

Within 3 minutes, Vydra left Warnock wondering why he’d bothered, tearing through a patchwork backline to chip over Kenny to make it 4-1; the last rites were being delivered, the lifeless carcass of Leeds United was ready to be committed to the ground: ashes to ashes, dust to dust. But still the blows continued. The referee showed no mercy, deciding that putting everyone through a further 10 minutes of added time was absolutely necessary. Murray obliged the official’s twisted desires with aplomb, sweeping home from 25 yards – the quality of Watford’s finishing was more akin to the Champions League than the Championship…it’s like everyone, to a man, was lining up to dance on the newly dug cemetery plot. Then Troy Deeney (yes, Troy Deeney) thundered home in the closing seconds to confirm as much; his knee slide a fitting playground style celebration for the playground scoreline.

N11: 2.55PM - This used to be the home of the hardcore...

During the post-mortem, the ever likeable Gianfranco Zola couldn’t help but sympathise with Leeds, speaking of how bad fortune had so served to undermine any hopes of a result. Supporters were even made wait up until almost 1am to re-live the whole sorry spectacle on the Football League Show. It wasn’t long ago that a Leeds humiliation such as this would be headline news for all the gloaters…even they seem to have got bored of it all now. The Leeds fans certainly are – ask any of the 18,000 or so who had the stomach for it…

Lamentable Leeds lacking leaders at all levels

2012-11-07T21:14:00.001Z

Last weekend, I devoted some time to debating whether to buy a ticket for the forthcoming cup tie with Chelsea; I’d avoided the previous two rounds having made a conscious, principled decision to boycott the games – I’m very much in the “No more dough to Monaco” camp; I’ve not spent a penny on food and drink at Elland Road in over 2 years, and don’t intend to do so again until Ken Bates has left the club. Having bought a ‘United for Life’ season ticket back in the days of Krasner, the League Cup provided me with my first opportunity this season, to draw a line in the sand over attending home matches; a chance to register an individual protest that would actually hit Bates in the pocket.

Shrewsbury and Oxford, I chose to go to; the takeover was still in the days when “imminent” seemed to mean “imminent”, but come the Everton game, my patience was at an end. In truth, it could’ve been a harder decision to make; after all, the League Cup fails to inspire much excitement and the live television coverage ensured I missed little, other than the prospect of standing in a half-empty stadium. Southampton was a harder call, I had no alternative way of watching the game, but then again, the opportunity to watch a club we played last year, fielding their reserve side hardly promised an enthralling spectacle.

But now Chelsea…

In truth, it’s not a game I would ever fancy our current side to win, but still…Chelsea. An 8 year hiatus from the Premier League has served to ensure that such clashes that reignite deep-seated, traditional rivalries are few and far between, so the opportunity just to sample the pre-match buzz again was starting to do battle with recently established principles. That was, until last night at Turf Moor.

Goal waiting to happen...

Under any other regime, I’d have already secured my quarter-final ticket, I would’ve also snapped up my seat for the two previous rounds – no thought would’ve been required; just another unconditional act of devotion towards my club. If you’re a supporter, you back, you follow and you invest in your club, regardless of the fixture. However, what the Burnley game reinforced in no uncertain terms is the fact that Leeds United no longer resembles a football club.

Football clubs are sporting institutions. By definition, such bodies are both formed due to, and are sustained by, a passion to compete, a desire to achieve the absolute maximum possible, a continued quest for self-improvement and progression within their field, and ultimately the glory that comes with it. Those at the top, who dare to dream, inspire others to do so – to follow by investing heavily, emotionally and financially, into shared, collective ambitions.

Under Ken Bates, such synonymous traits have long since been cast out from the Elland Road philosophy. Leeds United is no longer about football; its primary function now is to provide a mouthpiece, a soapbox, an audience for a man whose outdated bile, few would otherwise choose to listen to. Football has long since been relegated to a side show; a means to an end, a necessary evil that must be sustained at the lowest possible cost, in order to keep one man’s ego and public profile intact.

The tragic fact of the matter is that attitudes have become ingrained; Peter Lorimer has long since opted for his 50 pieces of silver over any loyalties to those who paid to watch him, but the spectacle of hearing Eddie Gray prostituting himself out for a pay packet, gets sadder with every passing week; a man who is part of the fabric of the club, forsaking the old mantra of “Side before self every time” in favour of his bank balance. You wonder how Billy would feel. The likes of Gray should be revered, not reviled, but it’s nigh on impossible to defend his stoic defence of his employer when even Thom Kirwin has gone out on a limb to criticise the club. From top to bottom, at every level, Leeds United screams “balance sheet” and not football club.

And now finally, that attitude has crossed the final frontier – the Leeds away end; while too many home games to mention in recent years have been anaesthetising affairs, away trips have always provided for infinitely better match day experiences. Even when on the pitch, the team get a pasting, there’s always the comfort of being part of a boisterous Leeds army to provide some solace from the day. That was far from the case last night; in fact, there was barely a whimper throughout.

Despite the ludicrous nature of the never-ending takeover saga; that supporters can see our prospects of a successful season receding with every wasted, passing day and regardless of the fact that both the club and GFH appear to view the fan base with utter indifference, there was barely an utterance of dissent last night; a couple of short lived bursts of “Bates Out!” was as expressive as the crowd got.

Some who preach the need to support the team to the point of excluding any hint of protest may rejoice, I was rather more concerned; people should be livid with the situation, desperate to vent their fury, but last night it really just appeared that nobody cared any more – those in attendance still remain passionate about the club, but no longer have a cause to fight for or to believe in; if Leeds won, nobody was kidding themselves about a promotion charge, while defeat would be just confirmation of what everyone suspects – that Leeds are a club going nowhere. As in the boardroom, affairs on the pitch have become almost incidental. But even the news the masses have longed for may offer little solace. If Bates goes …so what? Do GFH inspire hope? Not at the moment.

In many respects, this feels like the lowest period in our 93 year history. There’s no belief in those at the top, in the heroes of yesteryear, in the players of today, or the guardians of tomorrow. But while the buck ultimately stops with the owner, the club is currently lacking leaders at all levels.

On the pitch there are seldom few who are showing themselves as being fit for the fight; take out Kenny, Pearce, Peltier and Byram from the line-up at Turf Moor and there was nothing left. There are many players who are simply not good enough for a mediocre Championship side, let alone Leeds United. There are others coasting along, content in the knowledge that their place in the team is under no serious challenge, while others exhibit the body language of men who bought into a vision, into promises of a bright, post-Bates future, only to discover it to be a sham.

In short, the team, rather like the fans, remain committed but just don’t have a cause to galvanise them. Like us, they’ve been patiently awaiting the big name reinforcements since July and the assembly of a promotion challenging squad, and like us, they’re beginning to wonder if another season is going to be frittered away.

While Neil Warnock must feel sickened to the core by the whole affair, it is now time for him to step up to the plate. Football sides are very much a reflection of their manager’s personality and philosophy, and Warnock has always been painted as a fighter; the man in the tracksuit, shouting and bawling from the touchline at his players, officials and anyone else who’ll listen. Warnock immediately won fans over back in February with his straight talking, no nonsense approach – it almost felt like he was one of us. In recent weeks, his reactions to most poor results and questions of possible signings have involved much philosophical sighing and shrugging of shoulders… while it’s possible to emphasise with his takeover fatigue, such responses no longer reflect what we as supporters want to hear. Simon Grayson ultimately allowed himself to become part of the problem at Elland Road by toeing the line, accepting repeated failures to honour promises; his vastly experienced successor has no such excuses

Talk is (very) cheap, at the moment...

Now is when Warnock should be fighting his corner, demanding some degree of backing – if this takeover is so incredibly close, WHY can’t funds be released to secure loanees? The team and the supporters need some impetus and belief, and while those at the top continue to be so spectacularly negligent to these ends, that doesn’t excuse our manager.

Warnock may also choose to consider some of his selections and tactical choices. While broken promises over ‘marquee signings’ have undoubtedly left him a long way short in terms of the quality and strength in depth he was seeking, there are still players being inexplicably afforded chance after chance, while others are simply not being offered the opportunity in their preferred positions. The continued involvement of Danny Pugh sends out all sorts of wrong messages about the standards players have to meet in order gain selection. In midfield, Michael Tonge, despite barely having played a game at Stoke in 4 years is an automatic selection, while Michael Brown, offered reduced terms to reflect his status as a fringe player is back as a regular starter.

Although out of position, Aidy White has proven himself a complete waste of space – being Leeds born and fast, doesn’t make him a great player; the ability to pass, shoot, cross or beat players would certainly help though. More pressingly, what White’s right-sided midfield role also does is deny the team its best wide attacking outlet, by pushing Byram to right-back, which in turn has often resulted in Peltier on the left. To those more educated in tactics there may be method behind the madness – I can’t see it.

The result of the tinkering, the lack of competition, the shrugging of shoulders is what was seen at Burnley – Leeds have certainly been dominated more, but have rarely been quite so awful to watch. Long diagonal punts and little else was offered from an attacking perspective and the inability of the midfield to keep the ball, confounding and depressing in equal measure. People have questioned whether the defence this season is actually any better than before…I’d urge them to consider how long Leeds spend without the ball and reconsider their statement.

Just before half-time, I received a text message from a friend – it was like a Godsend, as it ultimately offered me a distraction for the remainder of the evening; I took the opportunity and found far more to interest me in those light hearted exchanges than any of those I’d paid £30 to see. It really shouldn’t be like this…

So while Bates, Haigh and Patel continue to undermine our latest campaign with their pathetic posturing and attention seeking, and should be the targets of any ire, it all comes down to Warnock in the meantime to drag matters back on track; he still enjoys an exalted status as a man of the fans, but if he wants to continue to do so it’s time he did right by us, by his players, and by himself. Performances are his domain, if he wants his players to put up a fight and for the supporters to stand up and be counted then he needs to do so too.

It’s high time that Bates and GFH were brought to account our boss; for pressure to be applied. It may cause more yet more anger and acrimony, but surely anything…anything, has to be preferable to the apathy of the present?

Leeds United 0 Birmingham City 1

2012-10-28T12:16:00.004Z

The Imp of the Perverse; we all possess one; that metaphorical demon that hovers by your shoulder, whispering words of temptation into your ear in an effort to entice you into performing acts that you know to be wrong. It’s a concept that was popularised by Edgar Allan Poe and that transcends all mediums of modern storytelling. It’s that little voice in your head that might urge you to jump when looking over the side of the skyscraper, or poke your hand into the workings of some heavy industrial machinery…or buy another ticket for a Leeds United game.

While fundamentally a literary construct, used to define such irrational temptation, this demonic inner voice is often afforded visual form; most commonly it appears as the classic, red, pitchfork wielding devil, often waging ideological warfare with an opposing angel who’s busy chewing off the subject’s other ear. But the Imp can also take on a human appearance, take the case of Eminem doing battle with a principled Dr. Dre’s physical embodiment of Stan’s “muthaf**king conscience”, back in the time when he was still relevant.

Please, please, please...oh, pretty please!

This week, step forward Lee Peltier, commandeered by the LUFC hierarchy to become the club’s own Imp. ‘Pelts’ put his name to a letter addressed and emailed to members, pleading for their attendance at the Birmingham game; a desperate measure by the commercial department made in the face of tumbling attendances to stem to the exodus. Only 17,484 had passed through the turnstiles at Charlton, further affirmation that the promises of so many not to return while Bates remains were not merely empty threats.

Few heeded the captain’s words as a paltry 22,152 (barely 20,000 of which were home supporters) turned up yesterday. I was amongst them, but as a 20-year season ticket holder I had no dilemma to ponder as my money had been long invested/squandered many years ago. My personal Imp had been banging on to me about buying tickets for the upcoming Southampton game on Tuesday - a principled stance about refusing to endorse Bates’ tenure through any further cup ticket purchases had seen me resist to this point…after yesterday it appears that even my Imp has sacked off selling the spectacle of watching Leeds United as a hopeless cause.

Tickets for Southampton are still available...

Elland Road is supposed to be a place where you can lose yourself, win, lose or draw, for 90 minutes; where life’s other troubles are forgotten about and superseded by joy, despair, outrage and countless other emotions. Standing in N11 for the Birmingham game was an anaesthetising experience, even the biting autumn chill didn’t register; the more depressing and niggling troubles of everyday existence that ought to be sidelined, became a refuge in which to retreat, just as a way to escape the grim realities of the football – sadly, this is becoming the norm.

On the post-match phone-in, Eddie Gray spoke of the abysmal atmosphere in the stands and the need for the crowd and the team to inspire each other. Predictably for a Yorkshire Radio phone-in, the main issue was sidestepped. While fingers can be pointed at the performance of the team and tactics of Neil Warnock, the main problem does reside in the stands, not the Kop though, but in the shiny new executive boxes to the East.

Apathy exists at Elland Road before a ball is kicked not because of Warnock, nor the players’ efforts, but because Leeds fans have nothing to buy into, nothing to believe in. Nobody believes the current side are capable of challenging at the top end of the Championship and the prospect of a takeover, that back in August would’ve sparked street parties, seems likely now to predominantly inspire relief over Bates’ departure, above any tangible excitement about the club’s future. Back in August, a new regime would doubtless have added 10,000 to the next home gate – you wonder now whether 25,000 gate to herald any ‘new dawn; would be out of reach.

The conduct of David Haigh’s since his intentions became public has done little to inspire; his bold promises of missed deadlines, crass public statements, his willingness to trample over LUST for his own purposes, his need to create and engage an audience of sycophantic slags on twitter that hang on his every word, despite the fact he never offers them anything of substance…oh and the complete secrecy regarding funding – Leeds fans have suffered nearly 8 years of bullshit David, you’ll have to forgive the growing scepticism.

Back to the pitch though, where all our pre-occupations should be, but where so little is happening to keep us pre-occupied. That Neil Warnock stated following the defeat that he was less upset than he was after the Charlton performance is a clear pointer to where the club stands. The “two or three” players “badly needed” since August remain so, and with the confidence gone, the team have little quality to fall back on as a get-out in tight games.

The return of Danny Pugh, like some footballing bogeyman that just won’t die is a damning indictment of Leeds’ strength in depth, as is Warnock’s perceived need to persist with jaded Rodolph Austin who at the moment looks more suited to playing behind Clyde Wijnhard in the Masters side, rather than the Championship.

Whether Warnock has currently better options open to him in the middle is debateable, but some of his other tactical decisions are rather more open to question. If Lee Peltier was a regular at right-back for (a far stronger) Leicester last season, why is he not playing there now? Having finally vacated the left-back slot he was back in the centre of defence, and was hopeless. Moreover, to allow the switch, the more solid Tom Lees moved to right back – for a player who looks horrified every time he’s expected to run with the ball, it’s ploy that continues to baffle.

Peltier, typically on the backfoot

Moving on to the midfield, the ghosts of last season linger, the pedestrian triumvirate of Austin, Tonge and Norris, nullified by a Birmingham side that passed and ran through them, at times, almost unopposed; while Becchio, up front, again an cut an anonymous figure. While 11^thposition in the league is not an utter disaster, you do wonder where the team would be, were it not for the emergence of Byram and the arrival of Diouf.

Inevitably, it was those latter two who combined for United’s one moment of quality in the game, the latter unable to direct a fantastic diagonal cross towards the bottom corner, allowing the keeper the chance to save. Shortly afterwards, the visitors delivered the killer blow; a quick ball out of defence by Murphy, a smart dummy by King that flummoxed Pearce and then an incisive 30 yard strike by Leroy Lita. Nobody closed him down, Pearce choosing to point at the unmarked Burke down the left, rather than throwing himself towards the ball, while the reliably anencephalous Pugh backed away from a position in which he could influence matters to his more comfortable retreat of ‘no man’s land’. Much as in the stands, nobody chose took responsibility on the pitch… defeat usually follows.

Resigned handshake

In response, Leeds offered very little; the keeper was barely troubled and a rusty looking Ryan Hall had little time to affect matters in his brief cameo. Upon leaving it was hard not reflect upon the fact that over in Greater Manchester, Dominic Poleon had made it two goals and two assists in four starts for Bury – it seems even Kevin Blackwell is capable of getting one up on Leeds United these days.

Sheffield Wednesday 1 Leeds United 1

2012-10-20T20:43:00.002+01:00

Having endured 5 interminable months mired in a malaise of takeover speculation, Leeds United supporters have long been craving for the day when the club would finally move to make a bold public statement on the back of a matter that would dominate the national football news. That actually happened last night, and how we wish it hadn’t. Rather than bringing tidings of a potentially exciting future under new owners, the club instead were very quickly moving to condemn the actions of one idiotic thug who just 30 minutes previously had brought shame to Leeds United and the game as a whole.

It is with this low life, with whom we must start, for as much as I loathe to afford him any more attention than absolutely necessary, it is utterly inescapable that it was his despicable, cowardly intervention that pushed the evening from the bounds of a depressing, unpleasant spectacle and into the national spotlight. I can only hope that when he is brought to justice, he receives the harshest permissible punishment; this must include a prison sentence and hopefully (assuming anyone would employ him) the loss of his employment. A football banning order will immediately mentioned as a matter of course, and a lifetime sentence should obviously be the verdict, but ultimately such impositions are futile and almost impossible to make work in practice.

Indeed, it seems the individual is already subject to one such order. This revelation, along with his identity had already been published and had spread like wild fire across twitter by the time I was leaving the stadium. This was very much a pro-active move by Leeds United supporters and the wider footballing public – it is important that the few key positives from the evening are not overlooked.

Just how much coverage will be given to the incident in the press, and what the ultimate responses of the relevant authorities to the matter will be will become clear over the coming days and weeks, and while a part of me can’t help but wonder, that because it’s Leeds United, the issue may be afforded more serious treatment than it might be otherwise, I for once would quite happily tolerate my club becoming the whipping boys again, if we can finally get this issue addressed.

On the pitch assaults are a deeply concerning trend in modern football; as a Leeds fan I’ve twice witnessed Leeds players becoming the victims of such callous acts; Shane Lowry was punched during a pitch invasion that followed the final whistle at a JPT Northern Final tie in Carlisle in 2010 and 9 months previously, Casper Ankergren was confronted by two Millwall fans during the first leg of the play-off semi-final at the New Den. Most recently, former Leeds player, Alan Smith was also set upon by several Huddersfield Town fans at the end of another play-off tie. After initial uproar (to varying degrees), little in the way of serious action followed – hopefully last night will mark the moment where the line is drawn and a very strong message to all is sent out.

Last night was not just about that one incident, there are many parties that should be ashamed and made to account for their actions; sections amongst both sets of supporters are plainly culpable, but arguably even more damaging was the conduct of those placed in the roles of greater responsibility, both at Sheffield Wednesday and in the media.

While nothing will or could ever excuse, or in any way justify the behaviour of the low life at the centre of proceedings, there is little doubt that the chants from a section of the North Stand about the deaths of Kevin Speight and Christopher Loftus completely turned the mood in the Leeds end in an instant; a relatively flat, resigned atmosphere giving way to fury and outrage. Although hearing such chants is sadly by no means a rarity, to be confronted by hundreds of people joining in was rather more so, the fact that it was Wednesday fans – who are regarded quite favourably by most Leeds fans in comparison to those from other Yorkshire clubs – only appeared to add to the shock, and at that stage a number of supporters lost their heads and as those in the North Stand responded, bottles and coins rained back and forth. While it’s a sad fact that distasteful chants will almost inevitably continue amongst some less desirable elements in such a tribal sport, lines have to be drawn somewhere and mocking the dead is way beyond any line. Throwing missiles is a similarly unforgivable; I had a friend stood by the corner flag who like most, was at Hillsborough with the sole purpose of enjoying the game, not to be struck in the face with a coin – I dare she is one of far too many victims on both sides.

Following those exchanges, it was plain to all in the Leeds end that any equaliser would inevitably be celebrated with exaggerated gusto, including an inevitable pitch invasion by a small number of idiots. With temperatures boiling over, the stewards that typically travel with the supporters would have been well placed to advise the Hillsborough staff to prepare for such a possibility…they couldn’t as Sheffield Wednesday had advised them their services would not be required. That’s not to say the incident would not have still occurred, but I might question whether a man capable of such a cowardly act might’ve been so bold had he not been afforded a degree of ‘safety in numbers’ by the other dozen or so idiots who ran onto the playing service.

Doubtless, many home supporters will refer to role the distasteful and libellous chants against Dave Jones in the first half played in souring the mood, while Leeds fans would then question why it’s acceptable for the continuous barracking of Neil Warnock and the singing of songs about Paddy Kenny’s wife – the fact is, there are no moral victories to be had by any fan on either side who engaged in any such chants. Just because Neil Warnock is able to laugh off the abuse he receives, doesn’t make it any more acceptable. The plain fact in this regard is that it takes two to tango and blame should be apportioned at both sides for creating the atmosphere that prevailed; the greatest condemnation however, should remain for that one individual and he alone.

Of course, individual interpretations of the amount of blame that should to be apportioned to each group of supporters are as subjective as they are futile, and will doubtless vary according to where people were sat and their individual team loyalties, however my main motivation for committing my thoughts are to do with concerns elsewhere; namely the conduct of Dave Jones and the role of Sky TV.

When asked about Leeds United supporters, Jones said “They’re all vile animals, all of them”; it may have been a statement been made in the midst of emotion, but it was also deliberate and considered, and undisputedly so, as when the Sky interviewer asked him to qualify a previous remark that he was tarring all Leeds fans with the same brush, he confirmed as much. He also made an incredibly poorly judged remark that attempted to frame the abuse from the stands he received as a having parallels with racism.

This latter remark is troubling on a number of levels; firstly to hijack what is currently another huge issue in football in an effort to employ it as some form of point scoring device in what has become a long running personal agenda, born out of a number of such exchanges (ever tried just dismissing it, Dave?) is pretty reprehensible; secondly, to describe the actions of a group of supporters as akin to racists following his other statements almost redefines the essence of hypocrisy – to be clear, my understanding of racism, or indeed any other form of ‘ism’ whether sexism, ageism, fascism or whatever else involves employing negative, hateful and harmful comments and attitudes towards people, designed to label, undermine or persecute them, based purely on their membership to a particular group, regardless of how accurately these views reflect any truth…going back to his sweeping generalisation about Leeds supporters all being vile animals, I’d suggest he has some explaining to do.

Short of issuing an apology and a retraction, having had time to reflect, Jones should be on an FA charge. While the incidents during the game will see to it that the next clash is deemed as high risk, for one of the managers to make comments that will clearly fan the flames and incite even more ill-feeling is grossly irresponsible. Had a player made such remarks, his words would undoubtedly be condemned publicly by his manager (albeit with a caveat that his reaction was “understandable”) and subjected to ‘in house’ discipline, at least. Who will Dave Jones answer to? This is a man in an esteemed job at a highly respected club and as such, should conduct himself in an appropriate manner; a right of reply should never be denied, but a measured, dignified response that reflects his position should be expected, rather than Neanderthal ramblings that place him at the same level as his detractors.

Jones is far from alone in receiving questionable abuse from supporters; he need only look to his counterpart on the right last night for proof of that. While Neil Warnock is a phlegmatic soul and a completely different personality, lessons can be learned from his ability to find perspective in the face of abuse. There are also countless footballers who have suffered similar (and in some cases, worse) than he, and yet almost every single one of them, despite their relative level of immaturity have dealt with it in a far more laudable manner; as much as I dislike many of the senior England players, none of them have reacted to criticism in quite such an incendiary way. I’ve seen many Manchester United players subjected to all conceivable insults at Elland Road, but none have reacted like Jones; on the other side of things, like Jones, Lee Bowyer was cleared in his trial, but still hammered every single week by opposing fans, even he never flinched, merely satisfying himself with a hand to the ear whenever he scored – if even Bowyer can show so much resolve, surely Jones should be capable?

The fact is, such a critique has a purpose; like most Leeds fans, I find Sheffield Wednesday fans to be arguably the most amenable amongst our Yorkshire rivals, but even they have a hardcore of ‘fans’ with a hatred of Leeds that often seems to surpass their love of the Owls come match days; I spent an hour or so in a local pub, and while I emphasise there was never any hint of trouble (us Leeds fans went incognito), every song was anti-Leeds, rather than pro-Wednesday. Jones’ comments can only help increase that demographic, validating everything they believe about the club 30 miles up the road.

The final criticism needs to be levelled at Sky TV; while it was hard to disagree with anything said in the commentary box or studio said in relation to the conduct of supporters last night, the company’s ability to dictate every aspect of the football calendar at a whim really demands to be called into question. While Sheffield Wednesday versus Leeds typically hasn’t attracted the proportion of morons that some other derbies have, the wisdom of re-scheduling the game for a Friday night remains questionable in the extreme. In a month’s time, Leeds visit Huddersfield...again on a Friday evening – every season, Saturday fixtures have been brought forward to lunchtime kick-offs at police advice, which in my experiences has been a very sound move. So why do Sky seemingly even have to power to veto police decisions these days?

In some ways I guess I’m not wholly free of guilt myself; I revel in the universal hatred of my club throughout Yorkshire. Even when at our lowest ebb, the thought of other supporters celebrating our every setback at least reassures you of Leeds United’s continued relevance. As sickening as conceding the opening goal was last night, the pathetic sight of men in their 40s making a beeline from their seats in the South Stand to gloat, was still amusing…and to be honest, I don’t want to lose that. It’s what makes following Leeds United unique and our fanatical devotion to the club so incomprehensible to others. But with that comes a tightrope, a thin line that was crossed last night. Mocking “We all hate Leeds Scum” chants has proved to be by far the most effective way of diffusing the ire of confrontational fans in many stadiums, but ‘Istanbul’ chants will understandably always be something incredibly difficult to show restraint in the face of. Playing the ‘bigger man’ isn’t easy, but it’s every fan’s responsibility (on both sides) to do so. If nothing else, at least after last night football should be one step (or banned supporter) closer to achieving that.

Oh, and by the way, we drew 1-1. Cracking goal too by Tonge…what a shame it was lost in the fall-out!

Leeds United 1 Barnsley 0

2012-10-07T09:20:00.001+01:00

Leeds United teams don’t do derby games; that’s been a general rule of thumb at Elland Road for longer than anyone cares to remember. For years now, too many such fixtures have conformed to an all too familiar and depressing template, where the Whites come face to face with a club and a following that care passionately about playing us, in stark contrast to our utter indifference towards them.

While it’s reassuring as a Leeds fan to be regularly reminded of the hatred we continue to generate amongst Yorkshire’s lesser lights, regardless of our status; it has become a real problem on match days. While Simon Grayson achieved much during his tenure, motivating his starting XI against the likes of Huddersfield, Hull City and Sheffield United wasn’t really his forte...then there’s Barnsley.

Becchio scores, Leeds lead, Hill flips...

On the basis of the last couple of seasons, I’ve come to look forward to a clash with Barnsley with the same sort of relish I’d expect ahead of an encounter with a proctologist; consecutive hidings at Oakwell and surrendered home points – the default sensation come the full-time whistle in such clashes has been “utterly p***ed off”.

Then there’s Keith Hill, a man not so much sporting a chip on his shoulder, rather a full sack of King Edwards; again in the build-up to the game, he was sniping away, warning of gamesmanship on Saturday, calling for strong refereeing and the like. It must still eat away at the balding, Bolton born cockalorum that he was never considered for the Leeds post ahead of Warnock, having made a play for it back in December when he suggested how much better the club would’ve been faring had he been in charge. Hill didn’t get the job though (thank God!) and with Warnock now at the helm, the suspicion prior to kick-off was that the halcyon days of regular triumphs for the Matalan Mourinho and his contemporaries would finally be at an end.

Self-appointed football martyr

That was the theory, albeit the logic looked worryingly flawed during the opening 20 minutes as Barnsley started strongly and the established derby pattern bedded in. Leeds struggled to cope; Austin and Tonge seemed unsure about their roles, neither of them pushing forward to support the strikers with any real conviction, but both abdicating defensive responsibilities. Having twice failed to prevent Kevin Davies from scoring at the Reebok, Austin now stood motionless as Jacob Mellis broke into the box after only 4 minutes, only to steer wide when it seemed easier to score.

Stephen Dawson and David Perkins (again) were running the show as the visitors stroked the ball around as they pleased; on 7 minutes Barnsley were almost through again, only a clumsy challenge-cum-air shot from Jason Pearce was sufficient to halt progress – it was ugly, it was desperate, and matters had to be addressed.

Hope is currently a fragile concept at Leeds and the sparsely populated East Stand – a monument to the consequences placing greed above ambition – served as a reminder of the underlying unrest that lurks around the club. Yet, as productive as the self-imposed exiles of the masses may be in nudging Bates towards the exit, it is also a shame that the players currently wearing the shirt are denied this support, as if nothing else, they are unequivocally committed to the cause, and will ultimately give any side a game...and today all it took was a change of system.

Leeds adapted to a 3-5-2 formation; Peltier moved towards the middle to become the left-sided centre back of three, while Aidy White dropped back from the midfield to play at wing-back. Suddenly the home side had much more of a solid look about them; Leeds had more bodies in the middle of the pitch, where previously they had been overrun and the problems caused by Tonge’s tendency to repeatedly drift infield from the left, exposing Peltier in the process, were addressed. As such, the game became a far more even affair, albeit with the exception of one superb Diouf cross headed over by Becchio, the threat offered by Leeds was relatively minor.

9th of the season

That Leeds took the lead was quite a surprise then, even if the source was rather less so; while Stephen Foster’s decision to end Lee Petier’s run from deep with a body check that bordered on an assault was undeniably a foul, whether it took place inside the 18 yard box was another issue entirely. Becchio appeared duly unconcerned about the validity of the decision as he dinked in from 12 yards. By his own admittance, Neil Warnock didn’t watch the penalty being taken, which seemed a shame, as doubtless the sight of our Argentine forward getting bollocked by our manager for trying to be “flash” while still celebrating the goal, would’ve made for a priceless spectacle.

"Costs less than Berbatov..."

It was a bitter pill for Barnsley to swallow and things got a little too much for Keith Hill shortly afterwards. Today’s dismal referee of choice, Darren Deadman, having harshly booked Becchio on the back of cries from Barnsley fans, then immediately found himself also playing up to the home fans who demanded retribution following a nondescript Craig Davies challenge – Hill responded by attempting to start a stand-up row with an entire section of the West Stand.

Come the second half, Leeds began to look a little more comfortable, helped by increasing familiarity with the new system and the early introduction of David Norris for a sluggish Tonge. Chances were few however, and the majority went to Barnsley; the best of the half went to Marlon Harewood, who with the goal at his mercy, side-footed back in the direction of Paddy Kenny, who was able to fling himself at the ball and save at full stretch.

Diouf: staging his one-man forward's show

As Barnsley became more desperate and Michael Brown (not for the first time) was christened a w**ker by the away support, Jason Pearce (not for the first time) found using his body as the last line of defence to be a wholly effective tactic. As time ticked by, Leeds found themselves increasingly reliant on Diouf as a sole attacking outlet who obliged magnificently; the Senegalese striker’s use of the ball, his ability to retain it and where possible, bring others into play was an object lesson to all those around him and a reminder of what it’s like to have a top class experienced player at Elland Road...and it’s been a while! As Diouf jogged over to take a corner he’d just won in the dying minutes, those in the Kop and the North East Corner rose as one to acclaim him and he responded in kind – the unlikeliest of love affairs is in full bloom!

Barnsley were still afforded one more gilt-edged opportunity, but could only muster a weak header after Austin again lost his man at a set piece; this time though, mercifully, it wasn’t costly. So come the final whistle, the players and Warnock were able to celebrate and reflect upon a terrific fortnight for the club that has brought a cup victory over Everton and 10 points from 12, all in the midst of an injury crisis! Warnock left the pitch all smiles; in contrast a sulking Keith Hill made for the tunnel stony faced, left to curse a combination of bad fortune and the referee. If looks could kill, Darren would be a dead man.

Default clenched fist mode...

In the post-match interviews, Warnock claimed not to have a clear view of the penalty incident, stating that he would need to see a replay before passing judgement; Hill was in no mood to play the diplomat however, openly lamenting the decision…while skirting over the inability of his forwards. He did try to remain measured and typically noble in his criticism though, saying: “I better be careful, I’m not a rich man…I’m rich in values, but not with cash”.

Barnsley fans surely shouldn’t fear a relegation battle while under the stewardship of such a self-important, righteous leader and will doubtless take comfort from his unrepentant parting shot: "I don't hide. I'm Keith Hill; 6 foot 1, 16 stone, was 13 stone. I don't hide! - Kevin Blackwell, you may just have a soul mate!

Maybe derbies are gonna be a whole lot more fun this season...?

Bolton Wanderers 2 Leeds United 2

2012-10-03T18:32:00.003+01:00

When the Reebok Stadium was opened back in 1997, in many ways it provided a blueprint for the future of English football stadia development; its striking design, whilst clearly influenced by the nearby McAlpine Stadium in Huddersfield, was set at a more ambitious level; its specification reflecting more of an M&S level of standards, as opposed to Matalan. The lucrative, big name stadium naming rights and the vast commercial and development that surrounds it – both at the time, relatively novel concepts to these shores – now form an integral part of many a new scheme.

Planet Reebok

It was fitting then, that 15 years on from its opening, the Reebok and its surroundings is still able to bring to mind futuristic visions. The approach to the ground last night immediately inspired thoughts of the dystopian, post-nuclear modernity of 2019 Los Angeles, as depicted in Blade Runner. The incessant, torrential rain from above and the hazy precipitous mist rising up from ground level; the garish glare from a seemingly endless vista of brightly illuminated signs, an offensive, commercial, multi-sensory attack on the senses, courtesy of a roll call of multi-national food, leisure and retail chains…maybe Middlebrook Retail Park in Horwich is even closer to what Philip K. Dick had in mind than anything even Sir Ridley Scott could muster?

KFC on the doorstep... as not all progress is lamentable

The reference to Blade Runner is not made idly, as the central premise of the film regards the humanity or otherwise of Harrison Ford’s character, Rick Deckard. In the opening weeks to the season, it could’ve also conceivably formed the cornerstone of a debate over Rodolph Austin; despite the rigours of a hugely demanding schedule, the energy levels of our Jamaican have never appeared to waver; returning late from the US to face Nottingham Forest, a jaded performance was expected, yet as injury time approached, he was still there, embarking on a lung busting run from the half-way line, just to win a precious thrown-in; Everton then surely, a step too far? No! Somehow he was even more immense. Bristol City? No problems; Warnock didn’t even consider the need to give him a breather at 3-1…and this is all before we consider his superhuman shooting ability.

So is Rodolph actually a machine? Is he some kind of android or replicant being, a perfect athletic prototype, masquerading as a mere mortal with a penchant for kicking footballs and footballers really hard? Well, tonight finally put paid to the conspiracy theories, he is human…and he ain’t too clever at tracking runners from set pieces. Handed responsibility for nullifying the Kevin Davies threat, Austin twice lost his man (like tears in the rain) and ultimately because of it, Leeds lost the opportunity to claim an unlikely 3 points.

In truth, although fingers had to be pointed at Austin, Bolton’s opener had an air of inevitability about it almost from kick-off; the home side had started at a strong tempo and not for the first time, having matched Leeds for effort, the opposition’s superiority in the midfield became painfully apparent; Rodolph looked on bemused as Bolton passed around him and spread the ball about quickly, stretching Leeds at will; with Tonge slow to get into the game and Michael Brown under the constant threat of admonishment by referee, Phil Dowd, who was seemingly on a mission to nullify Brown as a participant in the match, it was unsurprising that the home side gained the ascendancy.

Most decisions made by the officials varied between the baffling and the petty, and almost all favoured Owen Coyle’s team; they did little to help the cause, and brought chants of “Cheat!” from the away end and a rather more choice selection of words from Warnock in the technical area, but when the key Leeds tactic for the half appeared to be to “hit f**king Becchio!” whenever in possession, it was hard to look beyond lack of ideas in the team as the root cause of the difficulties.

The opening goal took 14 minutes to arrive; Davies’ header being greeted by a coordinated celebration (akin to something from a Disney movie) in the ‘Bolton corner’ as ‘Just Can’t Get Enough’ boomed from the PA – I wonder if Dick anticipated that particular nightmarish development in sporting arenas?

Dream on Hughton...

Bolton continued to dominate after the goal and Phil Dowd continued his policy of obliging the home side with a string of free-kicks; Kevin Davies and he appeared to be on almost uncomfortably good terms, to the extent I feared at one stage, a second Davies goal would’ve been honoured with full-on fellatio in the centre circle. As it was, Leeds (somehow) scored the next goal, and fittingly, the Whites’ only potent attacking outlet during the half was there to head in Diouf’s free kick. While Sam Byram’s continued brilliance will no doubt attract suitors come January, rest assured at least, that he’s already too good for Norwich!

Becchio...

Within minutes of the second half starting, Byram was as it again, floored in full flow by Stephen Warnock. It didn’t seem the most convincing penalty shout, but Sam has noticeably developed his ability to win fouls – maybe another plus of Diouf’s presence? Becchio strode up to the spot and sent Bogdan the wrong way…2-1! The Argentine savoured the opportunity to celebrate in front of over 4,000 Leeds fans and much badge grabbing, shouting and head nodding ensued.

...2-1!!!

The quick fire goals knocked Bolton out of their stride and they struggled to create in open play after that, offering a threat almost exclusively from set plays; for Leeds, Diouf put in a fantastic shift, some of his hold-up play and close control, sublime. Sadly though, Leeds were to give away one needless corner too many and Davies – a man who sports a plot of forehead real estate, large enough to build a farmstead for a Playmobil family – was never going to squander the opportunity to square the scoreline, via his cranium.

Bugger...

After the equaliser, Leeds looked content to close out the game, yet in the dying moments of injury time, a slick passing move afforded Diouf space 25 yards out; his curling effort clipped the face of the crossbar - a perfect finale to the evening denied by the woodwork, though it would’ve been very harsh on Bolton.

Leeds fans were quick to forgive Diouf his inaccuracy, the Senegalese striker reciprocating adoring applause, before blowing kisses to the masses. Warnock was also quick to forgive Austin; shouldering the blame himself for the goals…Rodolph is human after all!

So, a very unlikely 3 points thrown away in the likeliest of circumstances, but still good point nonetheless!

Leeds United: The 7 Final Itch

2012-09-30T10:49:00.002+01:00

For those who buy into the concept of karma, the takeover drama that has dominated our thoughts for over 100 days can only end with a successful resolution; a handover of power that with it, will bring ambitious, altruistic owners with a commitment to success on the pitch and a desire to embrace and engage, rather than alienate the supporters off it. Having suffered Ken Bates for over 7 and a-half years, it follows that a period of contentment and success is now due to redress the karmic imbalance. Surely?

Well, that’s the theory, and for my own sanity, I’m going with it…well, maybe – in truth, karma is probably a load of old bollocks. After all, we are talking about a game in which an (alleged) racist, disabled parking spot stealing adulterer (etc.) is still lauded as the man who should be leading the national team; where the most graceless leader of men in Western society presides over a team of perennial winners, and where Danny Pugh is still able to gain steady employment.

But, if just for once, the footballing Gods drop a payload of good fortune onto the green fields of LS11, then maybe, just maybe, we can finally stop bemoaning our cursed luck at boardroom level and go back to what we do best and return to lamenting what goes on for the 90 minutes each Saturday (and the odd Tuesday, Wednesday…and Monday, Friday, Sunday – cheers Sky!) on the pitch; it’s high time that the referees, The FA, the opposition – hell, anyone else but Ken f**king Bates lie at the root of our problems at any given time.

With that in mind, I’m going to start the ball rolling early and ask the question: “When the hell is Leeds United next going to win a major final?” I consider this a good place to start as – victims of mental scarring from the Ken Bates, apart - those who’ve shared in the common experience of witnessing nothing but misery and heartache on these occasions is surely amongst the largest demographics amongst our support.

How many readers hold treasured memories of the magical 1989/90 promotion season and the remarkable title triumph that followed only 2 years later? Show of hands? Ah yes, lots of you – wasn’t it just the best? Okay, now the rest of you; how many of you have at least some recollection of the brief, short-lived, glorious promise of the O’Leary era? Excellent! Squandered promise, but great while it lasted all the same, eh? Right, now who remembers a glorious day out watching the Whites triumph at a final? Ermmm…

It’s been 39 long years since Leeds last triumphed in a final of any sort of description which means that the few people who can answer yes to that last question – I’m not flattering myself that I’m writing to a wide audience here – are quite possibly same people who are just starting to take notice of Michael Parkinson as he tries to sell them Sun Life Assurance policies; they may have even pondered whether to take Argos vouchers or a pocket camcorder as their free welcome gift. Yes, it’s been that long!

39 years and 7 finals and nothing to show for it, nothing but countless generations of Leeds fans, ruthlessly conditioned into expecting failure on days where above all others, winning is everything; and through all those finals there is one common theme, that our every turn has undermined the quest for glory – conspiracy.

That save

Over the four decades it’s only the nature of the conspiracy that has changed; back where it started, at Wembley in 1973, it was the innocent spectacle of one man colluding with fate to have the game of his life in denying the Whites glory; “plucky” Second Division ‘no hopers’ Sunderland, came to Wembley, saw fit to score a goal then camped in the defensive third of the field while Jim Montgomery spent the 90 minutes looking like a goalkeeper plucked from ‘Pro-Evolution Soccer’ rather than streets of his own town. His double save from Cherry and Lorimer still has the ability to taunt today.

The Cup Winners Cup Final, held 11 days in Thessalaniki, was a whole different ball game however; Leeds, in their only ever appearance in the competition faced up to Italian giants AC Milan… and the referee. To describe the refereeing performance that night as “questionable” would be akin to terming Hitler’s foreign policy as “dubious”; before the game, Johnny Giles revealed he heard whispers over lunch that the team “couldn’t win” the game, no matter what they did. As it turned it, they did everything…and they didn’t win; having gone behind in the 4^th minute to a goal scored direct from a free-kick (an indirect free-kick having been awarded), Leeds would go on to be denied three clear-cut penalties and two more “borderline” claims.

Before the acrimony...

The locals responded to the performance of local official Christos Michas by chanting “Shame! Shame!” from the terraces and come full-time, so incensed were they, that Milan’s lap of honour had to be curtailed as a barrage of missiles rained down onto the players. In contrast, the Leeds team were afforded a standing ovation. The referee was subsequently investigated by his own FA on suspicion that he’d taken bribes from the Italians, while UEFA swiftly banned him from officiating at any future international club fixtures. Despite the fall-out, UEFA refused Leeds’ request for a replay and opted to sweep matters under the carpet; the ill feeling however still remains, with Yorkshire & Humberside MEP Robert Corbett as recently as 2009 lobbying UEFA with a 15,000 name petition for the trophy to be retrospectively awarded to the club.

1975 most famously of all somehow threw up an uncannily similar scenario, albeit this time it was two rather than three penalties, inexplicably denied, albeit to that tally you could add a long-range Peter Lorimer goal, also famously chalked off. At the centre of the whole affair this time, two men; the referee again (this time, Frenchman Michel Kitabdjian) and Franz Beckenbauer, the former overlooking the latter’s penalty box indiscretions, and then paying heed to his desperate prostestations for an offside flag – seemingly it was only those two and the linesman in the entire stadium that picked out Billy Bremner as positioned illegally as Leeds celebrated the opener.

(not a) Penalty!!

With Leeds still shaken, Bayern struck two quick goals; the game was gone and in the stands, heads were lost as seats were ripped out and hurled onto the pitch. At the full-time whistle, Beckenbauer was moved to say “In the end we were the winners, but we were very, very lucky!” It was the end for Revie’s old guard and remains Leeds’ last European final, it was also Kitabjian’s final appointment. Defeat in the Mestalla Stadium cruelly denied David O’Leary’s side the chance to exact revenge 26 years later, although karma has seen to it that Bayern are still paying the penance for that evening against other English clubs; Scum’s 1999 triumph and Chelsea’s recent victory, the least sweet tasting retribution possible? If karma isn’t a load of bollocks, then it sure it some sick, twisted son of a bitch!

Mercifully, I’m too young to have had to live through the injustices of the 1970’s, my heartbreaks like many others’ are confined to these shores; while the conspiracy line still holds true, it’s been rather a case of our own players conspiring against themselves by performing like ***** (feel free to insert your swear word of choice) that has undermined most subsequent finals.

The only exception to this rule was back in 1987, in the dark, dilapidated surroundings of St. Andrews on a Friday night; the first ever play-off final had gone to a replay and this godforsaken shithole in the West Midlands was where the destiny of an epic season was to lie. It was the last time that a Leeds team actually ‘turned up’ for a final and when 9 minutes into extra time, John Sheridan struck the most considered, measured and sublime of free kicks into the top right hand corner, a 5 year exile top flight looked over; 16,000 Leeds supporters rejoiced as he manically raced towards the main stand and punched the air.

The class of '86-87

That could’ve been it, it should’ve been it; even the Karma Fairy seemed to have her eye on this one – as uncharitable as it seems in retrospect, even the loss of Brendan Ormsby just before half-time to a cruciate injury appeared like some form a divine retribution for a young boy, still smarting from the moment he cost my club an FA Cup Final appearance just 6 and a half weeks previously. Nobody reckoned on mediocre centre back with a mere 4 goals to his name in a over 200 games; who would? 113 minutes on the clock, Leeds only 7 minutes away from a return to the promised pastures of Division One…117 minutes on the clock and suddenly Peter bloody Shirtliff is on a hat-trick. Screw you Karma Fairy!

The indescribable agony of ’87 is as good as it’s got over the last quarter century; our next final set the template for what we’ve now become depressingly accustomed to. That was in 1996 and the Coca-Cola Cup final against Aston Villa, Wembley playing host to possibly the most depressing showcase game experience of the lot.

Quite how the team got to Wembley in the first place was somewhat of a mystery; performances had been universally awful for months and without the kindest of semi-final draws, pairing Leeds with Second Division Birmingham City, the cup run (stagger) would most likely have ended at that stage. I don’t recall anyone travelling down to the capital with any degree of optimism. Howard Wilkinson had the aura of a dead man walking, patience was wearing thin, and Tomas Brolin, brought to the club in sea of hyperbole and flash bulbs had been inexplicably outcast to the fringes.

Humbled

Many thought the game represented the ideal stage for Tom, but not Howard who left him in the bench to accommodate teen winger Andy Gray. Ironically Gray was the only positive from a shambolic showing as Leeds were battered 3-0. Anarchy ruled in the stands as chants of “Super Tomas Brolin” rang out from the Leeds end, but by the time Wilko relented it was already too late and tragically, the man who 4 years previously had delivered the title ran a gauntlet of boos as he departed down the tunnel at full-time; Bill Fotherby, well aware of his manager’s work behind the scenes stood loyal, but with supporters denied the same full picture, his departure seemed inevitable from that moment; a 4-0 home drubbing by Scum in September – capped ironically by a penalty from another maverick talent he wasn’t able to handle, in Eric Cantona – proved the final straw.

The drubbing at the hands of Watford at the Millennium Stadium was every bit as scripted. Despite presiding over one of the most mind-numbingly awful seasons of football ever seen at Elland Road, Kevin Blackwell had somehow guided Leeds to the final. He had many doubters and their every fear was realised upon hearing the team news – Kilgallon moved to left back and an untested 4-5-1 formation. A tortuous 90 minutes ensued and for the only time in my life I left the game early; as the board went up to signal injury time, I took that as my prompt to leave, so little there seemed to be worth acknowledging from that XI.

Abject

Doncaster…well, you get the picture! The only difference this time was the existence of a true belief that Leeds would finally triumph; having started the season with -15 points and overcome such a mountainous penalty, along with the loss of Gus Poyet and the presence of Dennis Wise and Dave Bassett, it seemed McAllister’s men simply had to deliver the fairy tale ending, especially after the drama in Carlisle. An estimated 57,000 Leeds supporters had managed to acquire tickets by whatever means possible to witness finale, while tens of thousands more were denied as Doncaster suspended their general sale at the Keepmoat.

And for what? Another abject performance, where not a single player, bar the outstanding Ankergren turned up – 1-0 may have flattered the team, but that was of little consolation in the queues at the tube station as fans congregated, a mass of broken men, James Hayter’s 48^th minute winner and John Ryan’s shit eating grin, the only two images burned on their retinas.

Flying in the face of fairy tails and logic!

So will this seemingly endless stretch of misery ever end? In my dreams it will do, and it will happen next May at a packed Wembley Stadium against Cardiff City. Automatic promotion? Pfft, you can stick that, I demand drama! As things stand, it seems inconceivable that we can finish in the top six without a takeover, but if a bidder can shift Bates, then surely anything’s possible – even winning a final!

To others such a denouement may seem fantastical, but then again I have just spent over 2000 words pondering the existence of fairies…

Leeds United 2 Nottingham Forest 1

2012-09-23T12:57:00.001+01:00

Come 4.57pm yesterday afternoon, the Leeds players left the Elland Road pitch elated, Neil Warnock was f**king thrilled, and around 22,000 of those in the crowd were of a similar mind. It’s important to remember these things at a time when matters on the pitch almost appear to be a mere sideshow, a support bill, for the epic TOMA soap opera that rumbles on, seemingly indifferent to the needs on the team.

Everything we need from the touchline...

Victory was worth celebrating; although it came against a club, the likes of which Leeds United should expect to regularly beat at home, it was achieved against a team we had little right to expect victory against. While 11^th position in the Championship is, and should always remain, a long way off an acceptable state of affairs, it’s a credit to Neil Warnock that we even occupy such a modest place within the league hierarchy; 6 of the 7 sides we’ve faced so far have boasted superior (some, vastly so) line-ups in terms of quality than Leeds can muster, it’s only the determination and discipline installed into the side that has been sufficient to see us get to where we are at this stage. Although the manager has come to resemble a broken record, stating after every game that “the players gave everything” – it is not said without justification.

Alas, as much as the back-biters and snipers may have you believe otherwise; as much as the fabulist tweets of Duncan Castles may lead those willing to believe them, into cul-de-sacs of mis-truths; as much as it would be nice, just for once to forget about it, the only undeniable truth of the here and now is there is no avoiding takeover talk, simply as, it is that and that alone that continues to hamper the progress of this football club.

"Look into my eyes..."

Mercifully, it appears that even Bates is getting fed up of the whole affair, or at least the increasing agitation it’s bringing him, so he finally chose to break his silence before the game. Under his stewardship Bates has ‘educated’ the supporters into believing the process of reviving the club to be a process of “slow arousal” leading to eventual orgasmic fulfilment; this, on the surface at least represented the polar opposite as the trailing tweets from Yorkshire Radio and LUTV staff, hinting at something major, stirred the online community quickly to the brink of climax, only then to be left flaccid by a barely coherent monologue that merely represented a progress report.

It was a classic Bates performance, the usual splenetic ramblings against LUST, and more recent enemies, twitter and Phil Hay. There was also the priceless revelation that part of the delays in talks could be attributed to it just “being too hot in the Gulf” during the summer to negotiate. Little in the way of new information was brought to light, but at least it was now afforded the rubber stamp of officialdom, and the fact that Bates himself chose to go public, suggests admittance on his part that the sale will now go ahead.

Four of the key players from the bidding team

Whatever way it was viewed, it represented a positive development, a fact reflected by the pre-match mood inside the stadium; the meek rendition of ‘Leeds, Leeds, Leeds’ that has become commonplace, giving way to a far more impassioned diapason chorus from the Kop; the buzz, so reliant in recent times on performance, in place for kick-off.

All that was missing was a decent musical accompaniment for the players’ entrance – what the anonymous piece currently in use does to stir the emotions is beyond me. While ‘Eye of the Tiger’ is clearly quite dated, it evokes memories of when a trip Elland Road represented every visiting player’s worst nightmare, a time where every player and every fan would be “at it” from the first minute to the last; it’s a piece indelibly connected with our last promotion campaign and perfectly dovetails with the abrasive personality of our current manager. Ironically, for a man obsessed with hotels, Elland Road has been the most hospitable of places for teams for the most part of Bates’ reign. Perhaps such a retrograde move may just be a small step in the right direction?

Becchio...1-0! (Again)

Regardless, the players mood matched those in the stands from the off as they dominated the first half. Becchio and Diouf caused a shambolic Forest backline no end of problems and the patchwork Leeds midfield somehow wrestled control of the game. As such, Becchio’s 14^th minute opener was no surprise, perhaps only his method was, finally scoring by the way of the boot, rather than his head, seizing on a loose ball following good wide play from Diouf.

At that stage Leeds were rampant, on 25 minutes they doubled the advantage, this time Becchio’s hesitancy when presented with a clear sight on goal benefitted debutant Dominic Poleon who raced onto the loose ball to lash home from 16 yards and Elland Road was treated to the sight of a delirious teenager racing to the bench, as if to say “F**king hell! Look what I’ve done, boss!!” – Warnock responded with applause then a warning that a bollocking would be imminent if he didn’t get his head straight. It was a glorious moment, but an isolated highlight however from Poleon, who on the basis of the rest of the game still looks some way off being a genuine option over 90 minutes.

Teenage dreams...

Shortly afterwards, Becchio had a chance to add a third in front of a boisterous South Stand, but side-footed over from 6 yards. It was an awful miss and could’ve killed off Forest at a stroke, as it was it provided the lifeline the visitors needed ahead of the second half.

After the break, Forest came out a revitalised outfit; the introduction of Lansbury and McGugan changed the game as the Leeds midfield four, comprising two 19 year-olds (one a striker on debut), the rusty Michael Tonge and Austin, became the weak link many had feared. The visitors started to dictate play, and perhaps unsurprisingly for a side who have Camp at the back and Cox up front, proved rather more effective as an attacking unit. That said, most of their most threatening moments came from corners and throw-ins, including the goal, where Paddy Kenny came for a ball he just wasn’t able to see in the glare of the sun.

Warnock made changes, substituting the injured Peltier and the struggling Poleon; it was just a shame it had to be with Aidy White and Luke Varney, the former of whom appears a lot better without the ball than with it, and the latter who just resembles a startled deer, every time the strange white spherical object arrives in close proximity. Forest continued to press and Kenny twice over redeemed himself with superb saves from McGugan’s curling effort and Cox’s close range lob.

Under the cosh

When Andy D’Urso decreed that an inexplicable 6 minutes added time were justified, it was easy to fear the worst; then something quite remarkable happened… Leeds suddenly adopted the hitherto unseen appearance of a team confident in their ability to see out a game, spending the majority of the closing stages collecting throw-ins and corners in the Forest half. Diouf especially, who’d been exemplary throughout along with Byram, played a key role. That said, the man really at the heart of matters was (again) Austin; his lung bursting run in the 90^th minute from his own half to the corner flag was a joy to behold; a man who should be in no physical state to jog, somehow sprinting beyond all, then still possessing the strength to nonchalantly push away any defender who dare try and dispossess him – eventually as a third opponent moved in, he settled for a throw-in by the corner flag and the ground rose as one to acclaim him. Our beloved Jamaican had set the “No surrender” tone for the closing minutes and the team as one, followed.

When the final whistle blew, a jubilant Warnock hugged Austin as if he was his son, then ushered his other charges in all directions to acknowledge the support; it’s been a long time since the club has had a manager who’s so in tune with the supporters. We can only hope that very soon we’ll have a man blessed with similar qualities applauding with approval from the chairman’s seat in the East Stand, and with it, ataraxia can replace the acrimony, and once again, the football is all that everyone is talking about.

Leeds United 2 Hull City 3

2012-09-19T19:48:00.000+01:00

Ashdown, Kisnorbo, Pugh, Brown, Gray, Thompson, Poleon

These are the players that made up Leeds United’s bench ahead of Tuesday night’s league game with Hull City; if anything should bring home the current state of this football club, maybe it is a glance at this list of names. While Jamie Ashdown appears on first impressions to be a very sound back-up goalkeeper, concerns have to be raised about the quality of outfield options; even during the darkest times of the League One era, I’m not convinced that the club ever fielded a bench as weak as the one Neil Warnock had to muster for this game.

Pretty clear message

I would have to confess my first reaction upon discovering who the substitutes were, was to work through the outfield players and conclude the following: too old (and injury savaged), hopeless, too old, too old, too young and too young; Ken Bates’ rhetoric – and that of those who follow his lead on club station, Yorkshire Radio – about the manager possessing a strong, competitive squad, both in terms of numbers and quality, exposed as an utter fallacy. While some may wish to make a case for Poleon being deserving of a run in the side, the truth is, teams that challenge for titles, automatic promotion spots and even just play-off places do not typically find themselves relying on a completely untried teenagers.

As it is, Neil Warnock is already finding himself leaning heavily on another young prospect, who like Poleon, was not even on the fringes of the first team squad at the end of last season. In Sam Byram, it appears that the club have unearthed a new gem from the Academy, his fearless and enthusiastic performances have so far been one of the highlights of the season; but rather than being nurtured and eased into first team life – the new boy looked after the experienced pros, it already seems that this young lad is having a huge amount of responsibility placed upon his shoulders.

Instead of being allowed a degree of freedom, Byram along with Rodolph Austin has suddenly found himself as one of the key men in the engine room. With the wholly ineffective Luke Varney (and at times, the almost equally ineffective Aidy White) on the left, and now the desperately off the pace Michael Tonge (1 Premier League start in 4 seasons at Stoke) completing the midfield quartet, the side find themselves relying on an 18 year-old and a new to the English game, Jamaican who Warnock would ideally like to rest following his international commitments.

With that in mind it is no wonder that Leeds are currently struggling; while the results show on the surface that every league game has been tight, with every victory and defeat being by the odd goal, in truth only exceptional goalkeeping displays by Paddy Kenny in Cardiff and Blackpool glossed over the huge dichotomy in class that was evident on both occasions. While the opening day victory over Wolves offered encouragement, it was achieved against a side that took over an hour to get into gear, and as much as supporters were left to bemoan the referee’s role in denying Leeds a maximum return against Blackburn, in truth, it was a game that the visitors should really have killed stone dead before El Hadji Diouf provided the Whites with a foothold in matters.

And we have to settle for Luke Varney...

Last weekend, Craig Bellamy left the bench to set Cardiff on the way to victory, then minutes later, Neil Warnock saw his “Number 1 summer target”, Nicky Maynard, win the penalty that condemned his side to defeat. Blackburn had given a debut to £8m Jordan Rhodes the Saturday before; Blackpool were able to field Tom Ince and then bring Matt Phillips off the bench to turn victory from the jaws of defeat at Bloomfield Road…Warnock is expected to compete with a budget (now completed exhausted) that has allowed him to set his aspirations no higher than Andy Gray and Luke Varney.

The fact is, Leeds United are a club going nowhere, its fan base left with nothing more to do than to pray for the moment that they can once again start to go somewhere. What is clear is that will not happen without a change of regime: new owners with a new philosophy of putting football first and wholly willing to back their vision with financial muscle. Even as things stand, Leeds United should be a much more competitive outfit, but an inhibitive wage structure and player budget, put in place so as to prioritise building projects, serves to ensure they cannot even now hope to compete for the cream of the emergency loan market.

Add to this equation, the losses to injury of Paul Green and David Norris from the midfield, the experienced Adam Drury at left-back and most crucially, the confirmed absence of Ross McCormack for up to 2 months and Leeds suddenly have the look of a bottom 6 outfit.

Still though the chairman chooses to preach to those naïve enough to swallow his increasingly inconsistent and nonsensical programme notes, his problem now however, is that he finds himself writing sermons to an increasingly small congregation of believers. Too many times has Ken Bates cried wolf, too often has he insisted that his is the way and then emphatically failed to deliver.

Independent thinking

The pre-match protest outside the East Stand by the same “morons” Bates is at pains to dismiss, week upon week as being of no concern to him was essentially just another simple reiteration of discontentment amongst what is (contrary to opinion) a largely articulate and well informed hardcore; while the ingeniously placed LUST advertisement on the lamp post outside the executive entrance, merely another PR masterstroke by an organisation that offers to supporters, the accountability and communication, never afforded from those running the club. Such actions are nothing new, albeit the clustering of supporters in the South Stand for the game displayed a more organised element of independent protest, somewhat necessitated by the anguish of nearly four months of playing the takeover waiting game.

None of these actions are likely to have concerned Bates more than they might normally do so, however, what may do was the verdict of the wider fan base, reflected in the attendance. Barely 12 months on from the last Elland Road encounter with Hull – which was incidentally another early season Tuesday night game, played against a similar backdrop of discontent of acrimony following a pitiful summer of investment in the playing staff – the gate had dropped from 22,363 to 19,750; a fall of over 2,600. Bearing in mind that the Hull City fans travelled in greater numbers this time and the fact that this season’s game was deemed ‘Category B’, meaning that adult tickets were in general, £5 cheaper, this represents a continuing trend of support sharply falling away – even allowing for more player sales (and who’s already wondering whether Lees, Byram or McCormack will still be here in February, should Bates remain?); it seems Bates can do little to sustain his tenure with income dwindling so drastically and future season ticket sales mortgaged against the cost of the East Stand redevelopment work. Surely an end is in sight?

In the meantime, the action on the pitch continues to accurately reflect the lack of ambition shown off it. True to work ethic that Neil Warnock has installed, the side started quickly against the Tigers, dominating the opening 20 minutes and took a well-deserved lead from the penalty spot; Becchio stroking home following a trip on Diouf. But, as things tend to go at times like these, one mistake was all that was needed to let the opposition back in, the hugely ineffectual Tonge tamely rolling the ball left from the edge of his own area, rather than taking the no nonsense option of launching it upfield or into the stand, allowing the rather more impressive Hull loanee, Elmohamady (55 starts in 2 years at the Stadium of Light) to run on to the loose ball and smash it home from 20 yards. From that moment, Hull were in the ascendancy; Leeds, having created a number of problems by getting the ball forward quickly to Diouf and Becchio, who’d been afforded the luxury of staying up front due to Steve Bruce’s decision to opt to play three centre backs, suddenly found themselves chasing shadows; Austin and Byram, essentially carrying Varney and Tonge were never in with a chance against a 5-man midfield. Six minutes on and Tom Lees lost Faye, free header, 2-1.

2-1

For the second consecutive home game, Leeds were there for the taking, but rather like Blackburn, the visitors seemed to lack the killer instinct to press on and finish off their opponents. While Blackburn had fallen apart following Diouf’s goal, Hull simply set the height of their ambitions at holding up the game at every opportunity, taking the sting out of any token momentum Leeds could muster – there wasn’t much.

Once behind, Leeds in general lacked creativity, players who could pick passes and a sense of positivity, only Diouf could oblige on all three counts, Austin and Byram on the latter. Most troubling was the complete and utter lack of pace in all areas of the pitch; indeed Aidy White, the only starting player renown for pace appears so incapable of using it to any constructive purpose, he may as well not have it.

Nothing emphasised the deficiency more than the introduction of Dominic Poleon just after the hour mark; his first two contributions were to run at players, and the team, suddenly afforded a new dimension picked up the tempo. Sadly it didn’t last as 15 minutes from time a corner for the home side turned into a break for the visitors, Leeds were hopelessly stretched at the back and Koren was able to steal in unmarked at the back post, rounding off the sort of fleet footed attack Leeds are just incapable of, to tuck in the third and seal the points.

Andy Gray grabbed a late second for Leeds as the referee’s assistant was preparing to deliver the news of there being 5 minutes stoppage time; that brought a brief surge of excitement but never looked like being the pre-cursor for a dramatic equaliser.

On paper, 3-2 looks like a narrow defeat, but nobody was fooled. Unless the club comes under new ownership very soon, a repeat of last season where the team effectively found itself anchored in mid-table with nothing to play for by March may yet prove to be more aspirational than we dare contemplate.

Leeds United 3 Blackburn Rovers 3

2012-09-02T12:53:00.002+01:00

“As one door closes, another opens”, so they say – it’s a pity the same doesn’t apply for windows; Neil Warnock could certainly be forgiven for thinking so as he woke this morning to reflect on another afternoon that defied all logic at Elland Road.

Deprived of the marquee signings he’d tailored his summer recruitment campaign around, and not "holding his breath" over any incoming loanees, Warnock currently presides over a team that has the battling qualities of potential title winners, but a squad that possesses the quality and depth of mid-table strugglers. Ambitions for an entire campaign hamstrung at board level by one individual, incapable of either running the club sustainably enough to support his manager or predisposed to put any of his own money in, yet seemingly unwilling to let others do so.

Bates' latest spin on the takeover...

Of course, Ken Bates was busy spinning a different tale; his own solipsistic take on matters in the programme proving not only a complete contradiction of everything that’s previously been stated about the takeover, but also an astonishing exemplar of hypocrisy of the highest order. Dear old Ken suddenly needs to feel assured the ‘investors’ can provide proof of funds; he wants to know who they are, whether they are ‘fit and proper persons’; he’s suddenly curious about their business plan and their reasons for investing in the club.

...it seems to be rather at odds with the official club statement, doesn't it?

This rather flies in the face of the official club statement on the website – a place we are constantly reminded, provides solid facts about the club – that revealed back in June that a period of exclusivity had been granted to the bidders after discussions had left the club “very comfortable they had the financial resources to support the club” and satisfied that “they will no issues satisfying the Football League’s Owners and Directors test”… something really doesn’t tally up in Bates’ rationale, now does it?

In truth it was quite amusing to see our chairman try and paint himself as a man of integrity, whose main interest was to ensure he left a positive legacy; how he’d absolutely refuse to hand any controlling interest over to a party until he was completely satisfied with their credentials. I can only imagine all those years he’d spent happily representing owners he claimed to know nothing about have been forgotten since he bought the club back off them.

Still, there seems to be plenty of supporters out there, only too willing to swallow the latest shovel load of horse shit that Bates is dishing out, especially with two ex-players from the greatest ever Leeds side seemingly only too willing to validate it all. While Peter Lorimer already stands several miles beyond the boundaries of redemption for selling his soul for a fistful of Euros; Eddie Gray now appears to be emerging from the shadows of the club’s premier Gaberlunzie, religiously reiterating the propaganda in the face of all logic – please stop it Eddie, you’re so much better than that.

A rather paltry 24,000 at Elland Road - a reflection on the board rather than the manager

Insanity off the pitch was reflected in the madness on it, come 3pm. The huge ovation afforded to Paul Robinson as he made his way towards the goal in front of the Kop, a reminder of what the club used to be and could be again; the reciprocated applause and ‘Leeds salute’ an acknowledgement of a special time in his career and a deep-rooted love for the place. Meanwhile, up by the centre circle stood Jordan Rhodes, his presence, openly mocking any claims that Leeds will ever be any kind of force, even at this modest level under the current regime.

For 35 minutes the harsh reality of the situation was plain for all to see; Leeds struggled to stay in the game. The decision to pair Diouf with Peltier down the right hand side, ruthlessly exposed as the former, charged with tracking Markus Olsson failed to do so twice; the first time Olsson charged unopposed into the area to drill the ball home, on the second occasion he set up Gomes to sweep home and double the advantage.

Chasing shadows

At that stage it was painful to watch; the Kop stood forlornly as one, like a collection of parents, watching their young charges playing a big game against another school, looking on in despair as the kids from the other place with their privileged backgrounds and Adidas Predator boots cruelly exposed the shortcomings of those beloved to them, all while the referee laughed, smiled and obliged the tormentors as they toyed with the beleaguered Whites.

But then two things changed and with it, so did the game; with the near lifeless carcass of Leeds United almost pleading for a mercy killing, Blackburn decided to drop back rather than strike a decisive blow, while in the absence of anything more constructive, Leeds adopted a new tactic of pummelling high balls in and around the 6 yard box at high speed.

Success was almost instant; after a couple of close calls, Norris' Saturn-bound punt had Becchio and Diouf bearing down on Robinson upon its eventual return to Earth; the ball was fumbled and eventually, several toe pokes later, Diouf put Leeds back in it – it was an eyesore of a goal, but ANYTHING would do at that stage. From that point, Blackburn crumbled; minutes later only Robinson’s fingertips denied Diouf a second as the visitors clung on for the interval in a game that should’ve been over.

Bang! 2-2

The pattern continued in the second half; as a spectacle it resembled today's Leeds United taking on last season’s XI, so lamentable was Blackburn’s defending. A simple long ball wasn’t dealt with and McCormack hammered in a shot that swerved passed Robinson to put Leeds level, then shortly after, another deep cross caused panic and Becchio’s header somehow evaded the keeper – 3-2: cue pandemonium.

That should've been it; Blackburn were in pieces and cries of "Kean out!" rang out from the Kop more audibly than from they did from the West Stand, it would’ve been it too had Pearce’s header been allowed to stand – few people could understand why it didn’t. It wasn’t of over course, not while Neil Swarbrick had a role to play; I was still bawling expletives from the back of the Kop over his ludicrous decision to award a free-kick against Tom Lees following Morten Gamst Pedersen’s pushing, as Ruben Rochina back-heeled in from the resultant corner with 7 minutes remaining.

Tom Lees: faultless throughout, regardless of what the ref may claim...

It was the worst and most costly of a multitude of mystifying decisions made by a referee who spent the entire game trotting around the pitch like a Brylcream smothered show pony and a last gasp opportunity squandered by Diouf in the dying moments ensured he wasn’t to be spared the wrath of Warnock; come the final whistle, rather than walk towards the Kop to applaud the home support, Neil waited, and waited, and waited some more, until the official, surrounded by a bevy of minders made his way towards the tunnel. Fingers were pointed vigorously…

Warnock later branded that final decision as “embarrassing”; even that seemed fairly charitable, though maybe the referee was merely trying to fit in with the spirit of another perplexing day. At 3.35pm the home support were desperately looking at a damage limitation exercise; by 5pm many were fuming at being denied a win.

Logic has long since departed LS11.

Leeds United 3 Oxford United 0

2012-08-29T16:47:00.000+01:00

The League Cup is a competition that holds little interest for me; it’s always been very much to the FA Cup what the UEFA Cup used to be the European Cup and is now even more so to the Champions League: a poor a distant relation. It seems to me at least, that the League Cup – or to be correct, the Capital One Cup – exists these days for a single purpose; as a viable option in the pursuit of silverware for the Premier League ‘never will be’ brigade; a route glory for a Stoke City (actually, scrub them, they were turned over by Swindon), Fulham (oh hang on!), ermm… it really does seem like nobody gives a shit about the Coca-Cola…? Carling…? Oh yeah, Capital One Cup.

Actually no, I take that back. There’s always Liverpool, a club that appears to assemble teams of such astonishing mediocrity, that the practically annual salvation provided by a fortunate Wembley win in this competition just about sustains the belief on Merseyside that the club remain a big player, come every August that follows.

The magic of the (Capital One) cup

Fair to say then, the pilgrimage to Elland Road was not undertaken with an overwhelming sense of excitement and anticipation of what was to follow. Year upon year of standing in a two-thirds empty Elland Road, barely engaged in a football match that the whole world – playing and management staff included – appear indifferent to and regularly concludes with a depressing defeat is enough to stifle even modest expectations.

With this in mind and the thought of lining Bates’ trousers with another £12 for the pleasure of standing witness to it all, looming heavy in the mind, there had to be to something worthwhile to be had at the end of it; something that allowed the trip home to be made untinged by self-loathing for pissing more money into the despot’s deposit box for little or nothing in return – Sam Byram, I salute you!!

Transfer deadline: Friday - 11pm

With 33 minutes on the clock, young Sam received the ball with his back to goal and spun on the spot, before nudging the ball between two approaching defenders, nipping between the pair, and then from an angle, chipping the goalkeeper from around 12 yards. It was a wonderful goal and instant payback for a lot of the intolerable shit that this competition has served up over the years. Such was the quality of the goal, had it come from Rooney or Van Persie in a Champions League tie, you’d imagine that Gary Neville gone way beyond the point of “GOOOOOOOOAAAAAAALLLLL!!” and to the moment of total abandonment as he reached the absolute point of a shuddering, ground shaking climax, showering a profusely hyper and sweaty Alan Parry with so much celebratory seed that his co-commentator resembled a painter’s radio.

Yes, it was a special goal – especially for a lad primarily considered a right-back, and prior to Preston, not even involved in the first team squad. The buzz was such that those who were there rushed home at the final whistle to relive the moment, while those who'd only heard of it were already there, posited in front of Sky Sports News. It was never shown; in fact, as it turned out, Sky didn’t even bother to send a camera to Elland Road. Sky Sports: “Because Every Goal Matters” – MY ARSE!!

The only real shame was that such a goal should arrive on a Tuesday night in a League Cup tie against lower league opposition, as having an empty South Stand as a backdrop did Byram’s effort rather a disservice. Still, at least Sam was in good company, as 6 minutes prior Rodolph Austin also notched his first for the club against the same backdrop. Another fine effort it was too; the Beast drilling in from 25 yards, the exact direction of shot seemingly immaterial to the man as he struck home, safe in the knowledge that the keeper was merely an object placed to help deflect the ball towards its inevitable destination. A joyous celebration ensued as a leap from Rodolph, and a spontaneous rendition of “Rodolph Austin’s having a party, bring your Rizlas and Bob Marley” of sufficient voracity on the Geldard to ensure its widespread adoption as chant of choice, marked the moment.

Bring your Rizlas and Bob Marley...

The lead flattered a Leeds side that had struggled to get to grips with confident looking visitors, but from that point onwards, it was pretty straightforward stuff and shortly after Byram’s contribution, Diouf could have killed the tie dead, but his shot was beaten away.

The second period continued in the same vein as the first had ended as Leeds dominated; Austin, freed to break forward more often due to the presence of Brown almost scored with an outrageous bending effort from 35 yards that clipped the bar – some players shoot on sight, Rodolph appears to oblige upon command, seemingly letting rip whenever the cry goes up from the stands. Then as tradition on the evening dictated, it was Byram’s turn again, this time he also failed to oblige with a finish, fiercely volleying Drury’s cross wide from 8 yards.

Second half pressure

A third goal did arrive on 73 minutes as a second sighting of a smiling Tom Lees was logged in the space of 7 days, an angled header into the bottom corner putting a seal on the victory. Even the begrudging acknowledgement of El Hadji Diouf’s superb cross from the right couldn’t diminish the significance of such an event.

So all in all, not a bad night; certainly far better than anticipated both in terms of result and performance – all that and one very special moment via the right boot of Sam Byram. The feelings of self-loathing and naivety could be set aside and put on hold for another journey home… although that couldn’t be said of one particularly heroic caller to the Yorkshire Radio post-match phone-in. Having opened with the classic fawning praise of Eddie Gray gambit to place the hosts at complacent ease, the man in question then proceeded to brand Bates corrupt, declare the squad weak and label the radio station ‘Propaganda FM’ – Eddie floundered, ummed and ahhed, then mumbled his default line about the game being “all about opinions” before his co-host finally rescued him by cutting off the incognito dissident.

As Tuesday night showed, twice over, sometimes you’ve just gotta be there…

#Pen4Ken: My letter

2012-08-24T20:08:00.003+01:00

In recognition of the ingenious new campaign to alert our chairman of discord at his continued reign at Elland Road (and of the letter being almost impossible read from a photograph), here is my contribution to the #Pen4Ken campaign...

24^th August 2012

Dearest Ken,

I hope this letter finds you in rude health and with your appetite for despotism undimmed by the passing of another pre-season.

Please find enclosed with this letter, a pen for your personal use; something I always regard as invaluable to have to hand, in order to fulfil trivial day-to-day obligations, such as completing the Daily Star crossword, or signing documentation to confirm the completion of multi-million pound takeover deals.

You should also find within, a colouring pencil for Mr Ben Fry; a small gift that should help to keep him entertained as he fills the hours, waiting for your next Yorkshire Radio interview. I would very much appreciate it if you could pass it onto Ben with my regards; I did ponder sending it separately, but I think both you and I recognise the folly of needlessly extravagant expenditure.

Before I go further, I feel I must apologise for the quality of pen that I offer you; there was a very fine selection of high quality, sought after writing implements available in the marketplace yesterday, but being that people typically don’t do their business this early the week, I thought I’d leave my purchase until stationery suppliers were making less outlandish demands. Sadly, it appears that the more naïve members of the letter writing community have given in to the exorbitant prices being quoted, leaving very little to choose from.

Please however accept my assurances that the pen in question, regardless of its age, appearance and the lack of interest expressed in it by other shoppers is still more than capable of doing the job it has been selected for. The owner of the stationers in question has also offered me guarantees about its suitability for purpose – needless to say, if this proves not to be the case, please inform me of your dissatisfaction and I will gladly alert the wider fan base to that person’s betrayal by publishing the address of his establishment on my blog and discretely urging readers to harass both him and other members of his immediate family.

Rather like those morons, dissidents and sickpots, I am writing to urge you to sell your stake in Leeds United FC and perhaps find another group of supporters to alienate. Rest assured, this doesn’t represent a damning judgement on my part of the job you are doing, but like some of the investors who you’ve spoken with in the past, I find myself intimidated when visiting Elland Road these days; some of the men in the Revie Stand have even taken to using swear words in reference to you – I can only imagine how discouraged potential bidders feel when they hear repeated pleas for new owners.

It would also seem the insignificant Trust organisation that you speak of appear to be gaining greater influence too; can you believe that they would now have some people believe sources other than the official website, match programme and Yorkshire Radio for the truth on all things Leeds United? Whatever next?

As much as it pains me to say it, I fear the end is nigh, so I can only hope you choose to leave before these undesirables try and taint the magnificent job you have done. If I can ever do anything in return to repay you for the last 7 years, by offering yourself a similarly, wholly substandard service over a seemingly endless period of time, at an exorbitant price, then please don’t hesitate to contact me. I shall be only too happy to oblige.

Here’s hoping this letter and the other contents reach you safely. I hear that local postal delivery office in Beeston has been employing a lot of immigrants of late, so you can never be sure what sure what they might decide to pocket for themselves. Can you believe we – well not you, obviously – pay taxes to cover their benefits? No, me neither?

Yours sincerely,

Adam. x

Blackpool 2 Leeds United 1

2012-08-22T18:54:00.003+01:00

The final Tuesday in July was a good day; I was in Cornwall for Leeds United’s pre-season tour; the previous evening the Whites had kicked-off their itinerary with a comfortable 6-0 victory against Tavistock; it wasn’t a great game, and at times it was a bit of a struggle, but it was early in pre-season so there was little reason for concern. Before that game, Leeds had confirmed the signing of four more players, while Robert Snodgrass was one of the first squad members to disembark the coach at Langsford Park, calming fears of a move away from the club. With the takeover seemingly imminent and the prospect of ‘marquee’ signings, the future was finally looking positive.

I spent that evening in Newquay; sat out with a couple of ice-cold pints of Cornish Rattler cider – hugely recommended, by the way – basking in the baking heat, under unblemished blue skies, drinking in everything around me as well as the contents of the glass afore me; the golden sands, the rocks, the stunning clear blue waters as they stretched out towards the horizon and the pale callipygian girls, pink from a day’s beach activities, who paddled in them; the sounds of the waves gently lapping against the shore, the faint waft of fish and chips… an idyllic experience.

Blackpool: Not quite Newquay

Four weeks on and now we’re here in Blackpool and the exciting new future we’ve been waiting to embrace at Elland Road still hasn’t arrived, nor have any major signings (bar the completion of Austin’s move), while Snodgrass has enrolled in the ex-player’s pension scheme over in East Anglia; the frustration, anguish and unanswered questions all remain; all that is different now are the surroundings.

Blackpool is hardly Newquay, and while the weather’s fair, the sands seem that little bit darker, the sea a bit grimmer, those glorious bikini-clad English roses have made way obese women in ill-fitting t-shirts and leggings, while any sounds from the sea are drowned out by the dual carriageway that separates the pub from the beach and the distinctive smell of cod and haddock, lost in a melange of kebab, pizza, ‘Southern fried’ chicken, donuts and candy floss aromas – back to reality!

Point? Yes please!

They say a week in football is a long time; well the past 28 days of following Leeds United’s off the pitch activities have seemed like an eternity…and wholly unproductive to boot. The trip to Bloomfield Road at least offered fans the best possible barometer with which to measure on the pitch progress; with the end of season trip to Cardiff being United’s only away game since our last visit to the seaside; there could’ve barely be a more effective gauge of Warnock’s pre-season work.

In truth, there couldn't have been a sterner test at such an early stage; while Ian Holloway’s side aren’t amongst the bookies’ frontrunners for an automatic promotion slot, the side have been together for some time now and few changes had been made during the summer. Moreover, the pace and movement that typifies their style of play is exactly the what Leeds currently lack.

Ok, maybe a win...

Logic dictated that a draw would’ve represented a fine result; a victory only likely as the product of a ‘smash and grab’ job, built on a heroic defensive rear guard action, and for a while, it all seemed possible. Having dealt with early Blackpool pressure, Leeds took the lead; Tom Lees powering home a Ross McCormack corner – suddenly a huge result seemed possible; even Tom was moved to smile. So, to the tick sheet for the classic away performance:

Weather early storm – TICK

Score (set play desired method) – TICK

So far so good, and now on to coping with the home side’s response… and Leeds did, just about, making it to the interval ahead.

Now was the time to address the issues; while Leeds led, they only did so on the back of number of fine Paddy Kenny saves and the performances of Peltier, Pearce and Lees. Everywhere else the home side were comprehensively outperforming their opponents. The ball didn’t stick when it was hit forward to the front men, while the midfield, seemingly running about dazed in a ‘no man’s land’, were completely peripheral to proceedings. Matters on the pitch had to be addressed, but they weren’t and eventually it cost us.

The most sickening aspect of conceding the equaliser was the manner in which it came; just as supporters were wondering whether sheer good luck and determination at the back would prove to be enough, Luke Varney undid 75 minutes of toiling in an instant. Having failed to prevent the ball running out of play for a throw-in, he inexplicably stopped it from rolling away; Stephen Crainey took advantage, galloping into the void of empty space vacated by the out of position forward, playing a one-two to bypass an exposed Sam Byram, before squaring to Nouha Dicko to equalise.

Game over...

The winner was as inevitable as it was swift in its arrival; substitute Matt Phillips, stroking home after a Byram slip let Tom Ince storm to the by-line unopposed. Seconds earlier Warnock had sent on Danny Pugh for a woeful Aidy White, his introduction almost seemed a valedictory acknowledgement that the game was gone, even at 1-1. In truth, I would've been able to empathise with such logic.

Come the final whistle, there were few positives to be had; perhaps the most philosophical view was that at least we got away with only a 2-1; even allowing for the crossbar’s intervention, Leeds were only a ‘Rachubka’ away from shipping 5 goals again, and it wouldn’t have flattered the home side. On reflection, the game did at least affirm the belief that we now do have the makings of a very solid backline; Peltier has been especially impressive in his short time at the club.

We can all hope...

The problems lie with all the questions that were posed beforehand, those that the game was hopefully going to provide some reassurance about – it didn’t. Blackpool’s pace, fluidity and speed of movement not only exemplified everything the Leeds side currently lacks, but also ruthlessly exposed the new look midfield. While Warnock was especially critical of the front four in his post-match interview, and in fairness Becchio and McCormack didn’t hold the ball up effectively, those playing behind them, to a man, were abysmal. Norris was anonymous; Austin, so effective on Saturday was reduced to chasing shadows throughout; Varney’s only contribution of note was his role in the equaliser, while Aidy White contributed absolutely nothing going forward; though very effective on the run, White seems incapable of beating an opponent from a standing start, his passing too was woeful.

Warnock himself should not escape examination either; his tactics were baffling. With the Leeds team already struggling with width, where was the sense in having White start the game on the right of midfield, especially when it necessitated Peltier also playing on his unfavoured side of the pitch to accommodate the move? With Tom Ince’s attacking prowess likely to be a key factor, the decision seemed all the more mystifying, especially with Adam Drury sitting idly on the bench. And where was Michael Brown? With the midfield so embarrassingly over-run and Austin really struggling, surely somebody with his experience was needed out there in the middle?

So not the best night out…rather like 90% of recent Tuesdays on the road with Leeds United; yes we can defend, but not necessarily yet as a unit, while as an attacking force, we’re a long way short of the mark. There’s now only 9 days remaining of the transfer window remaining and one only man standing between the club and a concerted push for promotion that the arrival of two or three big money, pacy, creative players can herald.

Seems like we’ve been here before…

Leeds United 1 Wolverhampton Wanderers 0

2012-08-19T12:55:00.005+01:00

"O Middle Eastern bidder, Middle Eastern bidder, wherefore art thou Middle Eastern bidder?”

By the hours of mid-morning, rumours were abound of an appearance by Leeds United’s very own Romeo Montague at Elland Road; the elusive, secretive figure(s) at the heart of a summer of TOMA-related torture, finally stepping out from the shadows of anonymity to reveal himself/themselves to an already love struck public; the man/men who would be at the forefront of a revolution marking our transformation from a failing, ‘small time’ property developing business back into competitive, ‘big time’ football club.

Weak at the knees yet?

Any dreams of the hero(s) of the piece, parachuting down from the skies, landing on the centre spot to sign the papers just ahead of kick-off were to be cruelly denied; but we’ve learned to harbour modest expectations at Elland Road these days – a decade of abject misery does that to people. However, it seems he (as it turned out, it was just one) was here, and if the photographs and the scientifically groundless work of the WACCOE facial recognition team are anything to go by, the man in question was a certain Sheikh Sauod Bin Adbulrahman Al Thani: sports fanatic, vice-president of the Qatari Olympics bid and member of the family that bankrolled the successful World Cup bid and are worth a cool $85bn – “Dare to dream” indeed.

In a sudden, perverse reversal of roles, the Leeds support found themselves cast into the role of Romeo; gazing up at very their own Miss Capulet as their suitor looked out from their elevated East Stand executive box balcony vantage point. It mattered not to those below that this new love of theirs wasn’t a beautiful brunette, with pale silken skin and wispy hair that daintily danced on the breeze, for marriage into the Al Thani family also brought with it the promise of eternal happiness and riches…

It's been too long...

And so it began, a new courtship; the Leeds fans on their best, vociferous, supportive behaviour as they tried to consummate a bond between a Yorkshire footballing dynasty and one from a distant land, while a diminutive fella sporting stubble and shades exchanged niceties with Ken and Susannah. But are we finally close to the line? Is the altar in sight? Well Andy Couzens claims the deal will go through in the next 24-48 hours - and who are we to doubt someone who played a handful of games for us in the mid-90s? - so that’d mean we’re now entering the fabled “Two and forty hours” period ahead of the resolution of the tale… let’s just hope we avoid the unpalatable spectacle of thousands of grief stricken supporters plunging daggers into their midriff.

Anyway...avert your longing stares from the stands and on to the pitch as suddenly a game was about to intrude upon the centre stage and a new league season kick-off; the buzz in the stadium a stark contrast to the mood as a defeat to Leicester brought the last campaign to a close. The first starting XI of the campaign featured 8 debutants, 7 of whom were summer signings – testament to the exhaustive work carried out in by Neil Warnock since April 28^th. Finally (give or take a marquee signing or three) the man in charge was able to field something approaching a team formed in his own image; players that will compete for every ball, that won’t go missing during games…now bring on the pace and flair!

From the first whistle, everything promised was delivered in a lively opening half; Leeds started at a tempo and didn’t relent. At the back Pearce and Peltier, starting only their second game as a defensive partnership, keeping Doyle and Ebanks-Blake very quiet throughout the 45 minutes, while 18 year-old Sam Byram, after a shaky opening, slowly started to dominate Ryan Jarvis. In the midfield, Austin, Norris, Green and Varney worked relentlessly as Leeds gained the upper hand, and yet, it was down to the remaining three players to deliver the defining moment of the game.

'Defining moment'

Collecting the ball in his own area, Paddy Kenny struck a glorious long pass straight to the feet of Ross McCormack – a ball of such quality that Adam Clayton would’ve still been dining out at Nando’s on the strength of it, come next Spring – who in turn killed the ball dead with a single touch, before striding down the left and delivering a perfect low cross for Becchio who provided a stooping heading and diving celebration reminiscent of the Millwall play-off tie – 18 minutes in, 1-0!

It was just reward for a United side that had already gone close moments before through McCormack and earlier in a goalmouth scramble that produced blocks aplenty, the ovation at half-time suggested that few home fans had any complaints.

A rare late Leeds corner

The second half was a rather different affair; initially it was more even, but as the Leeds midfield started to feel the effects of the hard running they’d put in, Wolves wrestled the initiative and spent the final 25 minutes very much in the ascendancy. While the undeniable work ethic running through the new line-up is once again creating a Leeds side that fans can identify with, the issue of a quality will ultimately define our season.

As the visitors dominated and gaps inevitably started to appear, the team became their own worst enemy; while Wolves patiently kept hold of the ball, looking for openings, Leeds consistently wasted possession when it was presented to them, looking for long passes that weren’t there to be made – as much as it pains to admit it, there was only Diouf who effectively kept hold of the ball in the closing stages. When Leeds were awarded a corner in the 82^ndminute, Becchio gestured to a member of the crowd to keep hold of the ball for a few seconds… that summed up the balance of play at the time.

Man, beast, cult hero...

But United held on and collected what could represent as huge 3 points, against what on paper is arguably the strongest side in the league. Peltier embraced the captain’s role while the outstanding Pearce played like one regardless. In Byram we have a potential star, while in Austin we seemingly already have another; the way he deposed Kevin Doyle of the ball in stoppage time, then while still being held, slid tackled Doumbia to win a throw-in was a joy to behold.

So all in all, a very positive start to the new season; it makes you wonder just what Warnock might achieve if our ‘Juliet’ gets his arse in gear and these two star-crossed lovers can be as one...

Norwich City: Nobody Cares, We Don't Like That!

2012-08-15T16:11:00.000+01:00

Norwich City Football Club – you’ve heard of them, yes? That’s right, those guys who play in yellow and green somewhere due east of Peterborough! You care passionately about it; investing time and emotion into following its fortunes from afar don’t you?... What do you mean, no? NO?! NO?!?! I'm not having that; it's just crazy talk!!

Ugh!

Well, at least that’s what our East Anglian friends would have you believe, having spent the past 12 months or so desperately trying to validate their status as followers of a big and important footballing institution. The recruitment of Bradley Johnson, Jonny Howson and most recently, Robert Snodgrass to the ranks, have sparked a cycle of gloating exercises that have almost bordered on hysteria: “You are our feeder club!” have been the cries of supporters, seemingly hell bent on convincing themselves that promotion to the Premier League undermines all logic and asserts Norwich City as some sort of football monolith, casting its imperious shadow over little Leeds.

The 'Yellow Army at the KC Stadium, just days after the club
boasted of taking a following of 600 to Milton Keynes

It matters not that Bradley Johnson was out of contract; it matters not that the current regime couldn’t wait to push Howson - soon to be a free agent - out of the door for any significant transfer fee, nor the fact that Snodgrass’ patience finally run out dictated his exit. It matters not that Premier League football, greater exposure and huge wage rises, rather than the cache of the club dictated their choice, nor did it register that Jason Pearce, untainted by the ‘life under Bates’ experience, chose a move to Elland Road over one to East Anglia.

Pay rise, shop window, no Ken Bates - no brainer

In common with us all, Norwich City supporters like to believe their club matters, and for whatever reason, they also seem to really want to matter in the eyes of Leeds United fans. They want… no they haveto feel special – they want to believe that every goal they score is soundtracked by the resentful gnashing of teeth back in Yorkshire. They need not waste their time.

Untainted by Bates experience...

I admit, I’ve not been completely immune to the inflammatory tweets and message board posturing; and yes, Norwich City do occupy a slightly more prominent place in my thoughts these days; no longer regarded as an inoffensive, even pleasant irrelevance, but more an innocuous irritation these days – but rivals? Hmm… file alongside Huddersfield and Barnsley.

The actions of Norwich City supporters are symptomatic of those with a “small club mentality”, resentful of having to occupy a lower strata within the historical football aristocracy. Perhaps still seething over the perceived “media obsession” with Leeds during the League One promotion campaign – a point alluded to more than once by Paul Lambert who claimed their title barely registered a mention, comparative to our final day victory over Bristol Rovers – the East Anglians have taken every opportunity since to re-position themselves in football’s pecking order.

It’s an inarguable truth that Norwich currently enjoy a more elevated status; a position perversely distorted by the obscene finances of the Premier League, that in the blink of a summer, transform a club’s ability to compete. But status by definition is a transient mode of existence; a temporary thing dictated purely by performance and results – if we were to claim that Norwich City is a huge club on the basis of their membership of the top division, do we afford the likes of Wigan Athletic, QPR, Reading and Fulham similar reverence?

Full house, big game atmosphere...

Standing is something else entirely. To supporters (putting local rivalries and one-off ‘crunch games’ aside) it’s a club’s standing that matters; that dictates the anticipation they afford to any given game. Who outside Ipswich ever gets excited about Norwich rolling into town? Maybe the odd Colchester fan…and let’s be fair, deep down, that must hurt.

As a League One side, would the draw of Norwich City be sufficient to sell out FA Cup ties at Old Trafford and White Hart Lane inside hours, or at the Emirates the following season as Leeds did? Was that based on the quality of team we could field or our league position? No, it was simply because we are Leeds United. Ultimately, while all clubs can enjoy temporary periods of relative success, it is not what primarily defines their standing; that’s tradition, support, potential and mentality. It’s why a meeting with Nottingham Forest will always excite far more than a clash with Wigan, why I’ll always take a game at Hillsborough over one at the Madejski Stadium and a clash with Wolves rather than Fulham.

Of course, that’s not to say that I wouldn’t rather play Norwich than Wigan, Reading or Fulham, just that I wouldn’t get the sort of buzz that’s synonymous with a visit from the likes of Scum, Chelsea, Arsenal, Newcastle and Liverpool. Many supporters, across the country still get fired up by the prospect of a game against Leeds, regardless of our status – whether they care to admit it or not, it’s wholly evident in the stands – and that is the crux of the matter. The larger footballing public remain indifferent towards Norwich and bar another Sheikh Mansour arriving on the scene will continue to be so. Even when not rated, Leeds will always remain hated, perversely something that is coveted by many.

Regardless, Norwich City’s fans fight the good fight to convince themselves otherwise, labouring under some hopelessly insular misconception that the rest of the football is in the wrong. Even on a wider level, city chiefs are currently considering a new approach to marketing the place to tourists and investors, adopting the slogan: “England’s Other City” – another “Hey look at us, we’re significant!” cry if I ever heard one.

Big(ger) time Charlie

Whether they care to admit it or not, life is as good as it’s ever likely to get at Carrow Road. Should Howson and Snodgrass blossom, they will move on – that is Norwich’s place in the scheme of things; ask Paul Lambert, now comfortable in a new job…and also reportedly an applicant for the Leeds vacancy back in February. For all their mocking, they remain a feeder club, and not just for the very elite within the league, but the second tier of clubs: the Newcastles, the Sunderlands, the Villas; their lot at the highest level is ultimately to survive, rather than thrive.

The blueprint is unmistakeable – while the fan base is decent even at Premier League level, it is no more than that, and any club that openly boasts about taking an away following of between 500 and 600 to a friendly clearly holds limited aspirations. Then there’s the goal music – F**KING GOAL MUSIC!! If there’s anything that defines a club’s standing, it’s goal music! While a dislike for Manchester United will always remain deeply ingrained and their sickening drive to milk the corporate cash cow, particularly distasteful, I can never foresee the day that they start marking every goal with a blast of Bellini’s ‘Samba De Janeiro’ (surely the worst of all goal music), ditto for all the other giants of the English game.

Nothing screams 'tinpot club' more than goal music...well, apart from this!

While we’re on music as well, reference has to be made to ‘On the Ball City’; apparently the oldest of all football songs, and one the club has claimed as its own. Notwithstanding the fact it was penned for a team of teachers before being adopted some years later; one look at the lyrics begs the question, “Who the hell would want to be seen dead singing it?”:

Kick off, throw in, have a little scrimmage,

Keep it low, a splendid rush, bravo, win or die,

On the ball, City, never mind the danger,

Steady on, now’s your chance,

Hurrah! We’ve scored a goal!

City! City! City!

Oh, and what the hell is a scrimmage, by the way?!?

Other aspects of the club’s history offer little else to impress. Norwich City are a club that list such footballing luminaries as Nigel Worthington, Efan Ekoku, John Newsome and Darren Kenton in their ‘Hall of Fame’; they’ve even set aside a place for Delia Smith – now I know that Leeds fans have tolerated enough from our own publicity seeking gobshite of a chairman, but openly celebrating his contribution…? There is a limit!

Efan Ekoku - Norwich City legend!

A look at the honours list does show two League Cup triumphs, although it should be noted that the first came in 1962 against a 4^thDivision Rochdale team in a two-legged affair, watched by an aggregate crowd of under 31,000… it’s fair to say, the competition really wasn’t ‘all that’ in the early days. By 1985, the re-christened Milk Cup was a different kettle of fish, albeit it took an own goal and a Clive Walker penalty miss to ensure a 1-0 triumph over Sunderland – both sides were subsequently relegated.

What by popular consensus remains “the pinnacle of Norwich City’s history” is the 2^nd round UEFA Cup defeat of Bayern Munich in 1993… yes, you did read it right: 2^nd ROUND! Just to provide some prospective, the high flying Canaries were able to give a debut to Ade Akinbiyi in the return tie.

Ah-ha!!

So there we have it; a club from a city more popularly feted for its mustard, a turkey farmer with a speech impediment at the centre of an avian flu outbreak and a pedestrianisation scheme immortalised by Alan Partridge, than its football team.

Enjoy the Premier League ride Norwich City; while I can’t deny I’ll have a little laugh to myself if it all ends in May, just don’t expect me to care less either way.

Leeds United 4 Shrewsbury Town 0

2012-08-12T11:52:00.003+01:00

Having endured an outrageously extrapolated summer recess, a tortuous 15 weeks made all the more unbearable by the takeover saga, here it was at last; a chance, if just for 90 minutes, to do what we do best, to put aside concerns about the long-term future of Leeds United and concentrate on finding more immediate ‘on the pitch’ concerns to despair over.

18,000+ for a Capital One cup tie...makes you wonder how many would turn up if Bates went!

Working under the financial constraints that continue to shackle every manager under the Bates regime, Neil Warnock appears to have accomplished some sterling work in the transfer market during the summer. His planning so far has been faultless; his first signing was the defensive lynchpin the team have do desperately lacked since Kisnorbo ruptured his Achilles over 2 years ago, and in Drury and Peltier has added a degree of ‘know how’ and class… words very rarely uttered in dispatches about Darren O’Dea and Alex Bruce.

Behind those we now have Paddy Kenny, proclaimed by Warnock himself as his most important signing – it would be hard to disagree: after watching over a long procession of keepers, all of whom were ticking time bombs, accidents waiting to happen – none more so than last season’s pair – to have an able AND confident last line of defence is the most novel and welcome change of the lot.

In the midfield a flurry of inexpensive, unspectacular new faces initially padded out the squad; not names to excite, but competitive, reliable and hardworking; the very antithesis of Clayton and Pugh. More recently, David Norris was brought on board to add a little attacking intent, then along came Rodolph… add Luke Varney and suddenly we no longer have a team of pushovers.

"Tentative" opening..

So we’re now solid and competitive (oh, and rid of Andy O’Brien), we now just need match-winners…ah, bugger! Sadly this is where the manager’s plans have fallen down – through no fault of his own, it must be added – players who win games by scoring goals, creating them for others, who excite: these players cost money, serious money… yes, even in excess of the £500,000 we forked out on Danny Pugh! While defensive solidity and a competitive streak are a pre-requisite for any Championship side with designs on promotion, class wins games; while it’s not inconceivable that a collection of unremarkable grafters could scrape a play-off berth, candidates for top 2 slots have pace, creativity and goals in their line-ups. We have McCormack and little else.

This shouldn’t have been an issue; having sorted out the defensive side of things, having built a competitive midfield unit, Warnock should’ve been spending the last few friendlies integrating the marquee signings he’d planned his summer around. Snodgrass is gone, yes, but one pacy forward (Maynard? Beckford? Cox?), a similarly quick wide player on the right, and because I’m greedy, an exciting young attacking midfielder to revel in the freedom afforded by Rodolph’s anchor role, then suddenly the squad would be looking very good… it’d be almost as if we’d replaced everything that our woeful contract negotiations track record has forced us to sacrifice over the last 12 months.

But we haven’t, and nobody seems to know whether Warnock will ever have the chance to do so; so here we find ourselves, the first competitive home game, and there he is, warming up on the pitch – El Hadji Diouf! Sadly now it seems that needs must and if Leeds want to recruit a forward with a degree of pedigree, this is once more, what we’ve been reduced to.

1-0

So here we are again, it’s not even kick-off and Elland Road is divided; the need for more firepower is clear, but few supporters would’ve elected to recruit a man who’d most likely rank below a vivisectionist in a ‘Humanitarian of the Year’ poll. It’s not the best omen to kick-off a season with.

Mercifully, every other aspect of the afternoon was more positive. While Diouf’s inclusion on the subs bench predictably drew very audible booing, the absence of Pugh, Connolly and Paynter had me somersaulting inside. Tom Lees was absent, but that allowed Sam Byram – impressive at Deepdale – a start (he impressed again), indeed amongst the first XI there were 8 debutants; while most felt such a drastic turnover of players was needed, I’m sure many doubted it would be achieved.

On the terraces, the mood was mixed; very positive towards the players, but tinged with the desire to express anger at the ongoing events at boardroom level. ‘Bates Out!’ chants were regular throughout, along with a fresh ‘Shoes off! Bates out!’ variation; while Paddy Kenny’s new ode quickly attainted cult status…sadly “Sausages and Burgers at Warnock’s house” has yet to make the transition from the pre-season tour.

On the pitch, a slow start allowed Shrewsbury a couple of early chances and afforded Kenny the opportunity to prove his worth; Leeds on the other hand were sparked to life by the opening goal; Becchio slotting in from 6 yards after Austin’s long range effort reached him via the keeper’s fumble and the defenders stray leg – try telling Rodolph it wasn’t his assist. The advantage was doubled within 6 minutes, the assist McCormack’s, the goal, Varney’s after more charitable defensive work.

Sign him up, sign him up...

The second half was fairly comfortable and put beyond doubt mid-way through as Norris struck home Varney’s knock-down, then McCormack hit home a penalty on 70 minutes; his little signing gesture celebration in front of the Kop, hopefully a hint of positive forthcoming news. The four goal cushion was the signal for changes, including Diouf; his introduction receiving the expected mixed response – a word of advice though, if you do insist on abusing Diouf, then do so from the safety of the stands, he looks like he’s been doing some serious weights this summer!

Grit your teeth...

In his 15 minutes Diouf showed some nice touches, but a lot of rustiness too, barely ever threatening to go past a defender, although off the pitch, when warming up and at the final whistle, his efforts to appease by repeatedly applauding the Kop were evident; chin up El Hadji, Barry George had few friends at ER until he revealed his LUFC affinity…

Burton Albion 0 Leeds United 1

2012-08-08T19:04:00.003+01:00

“We can’t see a thing! We can’t see a thiii-iiing! We’re Leeds United; we can’t see a thing!”

That new addition to the LUFC arsenal of away day ditties rang out from the terrace at about 8.15pm last night, as the vertically poised element of the Leeds following passed collective observation on the difficulty on watching a football game while partially sighted, due to the trivial matter of the star that sustains life on Earth making its daily passage below the horizon.

The Sun and Bates - common ground?

Not ones to ponder the awe of nature or contemplate the relative futility of our comparative existences, the next move by some were to condemn; “The Sun’s a c**t! And so is Bates!”... well, I suppose a 50% hit rate isn’t all that bad – ask Billy Paynter. The more astute observations followed; the predominant theme being that the Sun may have inadvertently done us all a passing favour – they had a point. Last night wasn’t great.

'Bates Out!' at The Beech

As seems standard, the away following justified something rather better; around 2,000 Leeds supporters in a crowd of 3,127 was enough to ensure that the preceding record of outnumbering the home support at every ground was maintained. Most of those who travelled seemingly headed towards The Beech prior to the game; the 20-30 man queues at the door to get inside to the bar suggested so. It was also a pre-match location for the faithful ‘Bates Out’ banner that now appears to be gaining a celebrity status of its own; several people posing for photographs, basking in its reflective – if slightly soiled and stained - revolutionary glow.

The stadium like its surroundings is a strange juxtaposition of the old and new; the traditional and modern; heritage and ambition. Built in 2005, it shining outer modernity stands in stark contrast to the adjacent, dilapidated Pirelli plant that bequeathed it its name and inside the theme continues; while the club is (thankfully) another notch on the Pukka Pies outlet roster, for those rallying against the corporate face of football ground catering, there is reason to rejoice – faggots are on the menu…yes, you did read that correctly; while the stadium is very much 21^stcentury, the menu is at least in part, rooted somewhere between the wars.

Deep in the heart of 'Anvil Country'?

Move on to the terrace though and an even greater divergence; gaze to the left and there’s an impressive stand-long, row of corporate boxes, but gaze straight ahead, just to the right of goal and there it is, a hoarding that reads ‘Anvil Hire Ltd’ – what is this?! Is there really a market for hiring anvils in contemporary Britain? I can’t recall seeing anvils being given prominent listing space in the Jewson catalogue. What do these people do for a living? Are the suburban dwellings around the stadium just a façade and beyond the immediate surroundings, Burton is a medieval settlement…I probably gave this a little too much thought, but as I say, the game wasn’t all that great.

But there were positives to be taken; particularly in terms of possession; in the opening half hour, Burton probably had the sum total of about a minute in the Leeds defensive third; Varney's close-range strike deserved on those grounds, if no other; indeed over the course of the night, Burton only really stretched Paddy Kenny a couple of times. There was also a small matter of a couple of debuts to consider and while Lee Peltier settled in with a degree of ease against modest opposition, albeit without showing much of his attacking menace, this was always going to be Rodolph’s night.

A rare attack instigated near the touchline

Mercifully Rodolph didn’t disappoint – hey, he probably considers such a concept alongside failure and Maroon 5 as an unfamiliar and very unwelcome bedfellow. His first notable touch was a cushioned pass that travelled at light speed into the advertising hoarding; we hadn’t exalted him on grounds of subtlety! However, the most enduring memory of his first start arrived shortly before the interval, as already grounded, he somehow conspired to make a raking challenge on an unsuspecting Burton player – his opponent stood and looked down, bewildered, as the referee employed the tried and trusted pre-season ‘have a quiet word, when a booking might otherwise be in order’ approach, the Leeds fans cheered… a legend was born.

That said, to only discuss our new Jamaican Juggernaut’s physicality would sell his first appearance a little short; he looked immediately comfortable in his new surroundings and very much up with the pace of the game; his passing was decent and in stark contrast to the archetypal Leeds player, he was composed when on the ball… and he saw plenty of it. I don’t know whether to put that down to the amount of ground he covered, the positions he took, or just a general fawning air of deference that obliged that ball to constantly gravitate towards him. In truth, I think it was most likely a case of the ‘New Cool Kid at School Syndrome’, where a new achingly popular boy (bonus points for previously residing abroad) arrives and everyone falls over themselves to find favour with him. “Santa’s number 1” indeed!

Number 4 is f**king shit! Number 4 is f**king shit!...Number 21 is f**king shit! (repeat to fade)

David Norris on the other hand seems to be suffering as a new kid on the block; he knows he has a position somewhere between midfield and attack, he just isn’t quite sure where yet – nor is anyone else. Mind you, he lacks Rodolph’s ‘aura of awesomeness’ and he’s come from down south, and from an impoverished background… it’s gonna be a harder transition. In fact it’s going be very tough up top, full stop. While Ross really must stay, he hasn’t the pace of say…a Max, and can’t beat people like him or Snoddy, dragging people out of position and making space for others, making runs from midfield like… you get the idea!

Sadly at the moment, going forward, Leeds possess the creativity and invention of a Money Supermarket commercial; until the arrival of a wide player and striker makes Neil feel “epic!”, scoring the goals needed to win games may be this season’s big problem.

Preston North End 1 Leeds United 3

2012-08-05T12:09:00.002+01:00

Back at last, after 15 long weeks; the archetypal Leeds United away experience!

As utterly glorious as the week-long tour of Cornwall and Devon was, there was something altogether more familiar and comforting about visiting Preston. The sunshine, hospitality and novelty of the South West giving way to the cramped trains, designated ‘Leeds pubs’, designated ‘home pubs’ assuming ‘Leeds pub’ status, bemused onlookers, glory hunting Chelsea and Scum fans in replica shirts caught unawares while out shopping (where else would they be?) and the odd nervous looking policeman – we’re straight back in the provincial city swing of things!

Add The Assembly, Preston to venues welcoming the banner...

Despite affording visiting supporters the biggest and most central pub in Preston, The Assembly, the police’s best laid plans were still shot to pieces by not adhering to the first commandment of the LUFC travelling faithful:

“Thou shalt congregate at the largest Wetherspoon’s Inn to be found in the settlement playing host to thine team’s clash” (Book of Away Days – 2:1)

Predictably then, many headed to The Greyfriar just over the road, much to the dismay of many who’d already congregated there: Preston fans, shoppers looking for a relaxing drink and meal, those police positioned outside who thought they were getting an easy afternoon’s overtime and the bar staff, who were no doubt having to offer apologies to innocent customers, suddenly affronted by beer showers and songs eulogising about a League One striker’s legendary penis.

Still, the police were able to execute their plans of clearing the city centre seamlessly by offering the lure of a free coach service to the ground…and yes, I did mean coach – we’re talking air conditioning and all mod cons here – with the full police escort service; passing through red lights, traffic held back in both directions to provide a clear route straight to Deepdale… It seemed wholly over the top and unnecessary, but at the same time there was something extremely gratifying to be drawn from the disdainful looks on local faces as we passed by.

...and the away end at PNE.

Onwards to the kick-off where thankfully the degree of familiarity withered somewhat as the team took to the pitch. Although Leeds kicked off the game with six faces familiar from the last campaign, the presence of Drury on the bench, Peltier in the stands, Rodolph somewhere between LS11 and Kingston and the promise of a couple of big name arrivals to follow, the chronically needed reconstruction of the squad has progressed far more efficiently than most had dared to expect. With Brown already afforded ‘protected species’ status by Warnock and Kisnorbo’s appearance sadly resembling more a charitable act than another step in his rehabilitation, it would seem that only McCormack, Becchio, Lees and White look regular starters from last season’s rag bag collection of inept professionals… arguably only a Snodgrass short of the ideal case scenario?

Problems still remain with the squad; a team that starts pre-season a Howson, a Gradel, a Snodgrass and a Paynter (ok, let’s scrap the last fella) down on last August with only Luke Varney to fill the void, are always likely to struggle to retain the attacking fluidity of 12 months ago and the opening half hour stood testament to that.

"Paddy Kenny's having a party..."

That said, on the plus side, there is suddenly a spine to the side; contrast that to last season, when that axis of awfulness, Clayton and Pugh, tentatively sauntered around the midfield battlegrounds of the Championship, carefully avoiding any sort of conflict that may lead to getting any of those troublesome grass stains on their immaculately clean kits. The opposition may suddenly discover that the simplest form of attack no longer just entails running straight down the middle of the pitch. Finally we appear to be moving toward a situation where the default defensive mode isn’t “stretched”.

In the 31^st minute Tom Lees woke the travelling thousands from the slumber – induced by the lack of action and significant alcohol consumption – that was starting to kick in, controlling Luke Varney's nod-down in the penalty area and volleying past Stuckmann. It was the signal for a lively end to a half that had been notable to that point, mainly for Paddy Kisnorbo’s half hour run-out (I wouldn’t expect to see many more) and a solid showing by the new Paddy in town, heralded by the emphatic embedding of “Paddy Kenny’s having a party, bring your vodka and your Charlie!” into the 2012/23 campaign songbook.

Deepdale: home to League One football and Billy Paynter's only goal on the road for LUFC - Grim!

In common with the other pre-season games thus far, Leeds started the second half slowly and for a short while at least, memories of last season came flooding back; not least when Preston squared matters, then even more so when the dark, if none too intimidating spectre of Danny Pugh appeared on the touchline. True to form, our utility man (footballing code for ‘shit’) inspired a first outburst of profanity within 30 seconds of his arrival, making an apologetic attempt at stopping a Preston winger on the run.

The 'Danny Pugh effect'

For a few minutes, I did wonder what the hell I was doing here, spending a Saturday afternoon at great expense in the Billy Paynter End at Deepdale, watching a friendly game involving Danny Pugh, while back in the real world, the nation was indulging in a mass orgy of sporting celebration, bathing in the golden shower of medals Team GB were spouting forth from the East End of London – the whole spectacle was enough to induce one younger lad into an almost comatose state of apathy… alcohol may have been a contributing factor, but to suit my petty agenda, I’m still laying it at the feet of Pugh!

Full time, and a moment for Paddy Kenny to ponder the fact that the away following was triple that managed by the Blades at the same stadium for a play-off semi-final...

Mercifully, following the pre-season template, Leeds picked up again as the half wore on and on 66 minutes Sam Byram smashed home from a corner to restore the advantage. Then on 80 minutes, for the second time in 12 days, it happened; Aidy White delivered from a position of promise, drilling the ball beyond the goalkeeper’s despairing dive into the bottom corner.

Come 4.50pm, all was well with the world.

Bring on August 18^th…

110 Days of Torture in Review: The Cornwall Tour Diary

2012-07-30T19:19:00.003+01:00

Like any manager who’s spent a long time in the game, Neil Warnock has his own tried and trusted methods of working: coaching staff, scouts, players and carefully laid plans that he religiously puts his faith in as integral parts of his quest for success on the pitch. From the outset, a tour of Cornwall and Devon sounded like the best of ideas, both as a key early stage in pre-season preparations for the players and as an inspired destination of choice for a massive influx of Leeds fans, keen to satiate their needs for meaningful football action, sunshine and excessive alcohol consumption.

Thankfully, and rather unlike Danny Webber, Warnock’s conviction in his beliefs paid off gloriously as a week of pouring over TOMA rumours and scratching around for news on signings gave way to hugely memorable – at least, as far as drunkenness permitted – 7 days of fun in the sun, football and way too much Cornish Rattler…

So in a break from the relentless stream of cynicism, I present: ‘110 Days of Torture – The Cornwall Tour Diary’…

Sunday 22^nd July

My best laid plans for an early start are rather shot to pieces by failing to set the alarm and waking at 8.30am with the packing to start. A frantic operation of collating clothes, gathering key bits of information for the trip, like where I was driving to, and trying to piece together the whereabouts of certain bits of camping equipment then took place to the soundtrack of the ‘Leeds United’s Greatest Hits’ album… even in the midst of blind panic, I couldn’t escape the notion of just how awful a song ‘Football in a Yorkshire Rose’ is.

By 10.15 it was finally time to leave: Tent – CHECK! Clothes – CHECK! Tickets – OH FUCK!... back to the house – CHECK! Ready to go? Ah, wait… ‘Bates Out’ banner – CHECK! Parcel shelf Smurf – CHECK! Time to hit the road…

The journey down to Bristol was a pleasant affair, even the evil menace of the A42/M42 failed to slow progress. Refueled on junk food and E-number loaded carbonated drinks, I returned to the car at 2pm ready for the final stretch… Hmmm, final stretch; from an initial fleeting glance at an atlas, you’d swear that Bodmin was just down the road from Bristol, so on goes the satnav – estimated time of arrival – 16.45! There it was in all its LCD clarity, 2 hours and 45 minutes - Jesus Christ! Just add me to the list of hopelessly deluded Northerners with huge misconceptions about the proximity of Bristol to the heart of the West Country.

I finally arrived at 16.30 (to hell with the satnav and its draconian compliance with speed limits) and having set up camp, set about exploring the locality. The evening rather embedded my philosophy for sightseeing; rather than diligently research online, rely on blindly choosing destinations from a map or through twitter recommendations – very well it worked too!

Charlestown was the closest place to St Austell I could find and not a bad little introduction to tiny coastal villages; it also boasted the Rashleigh Arms – the first of many recommended watering holes. It was also the place where I first consummated my love for Cornish Rattler pear cider. I’m not typically a man who goes for the pear variety of cider, but wanting to literally drink in the local culture, I only had the option of that or the ‘cloudy’ variety – as I tend to go by the mantra of “If it’s not transparent, avoid it”, it was the only choice to make.

The second port of call was the twitter nominated fishing town of Mevagissey; another stunning late evening destination and inspiration for my idea to torment the housebound hordes who’d chosen to work rather than visit the South West for the week. The jealously laced reaction to the tweeted snaps ensured that I wasn’t going to relent for the remainder of the week.

Monday 23^rd July

With the game not kicking off until 7pm and the need to drive necessitating that I stayed away from the pub for most of the day, a trip to Newquay beckoned. After being conditioned to resorts on the East Coast throughout childhood, it’s hard not to be a little overwhelmed by the Cornish coastline, especially the sea itself. The waters in this part of the world were something only really spied in Bounty commercials back in the 80s.

Newquay appears to have a dual identity, by day it serves the families and surfers, by evening, going on the appearance of the main town, it transforms into something akin to Magaluf. No wonder coffin dodgers appeared to be a little thin on the ground.

Come mid-afternoon it was time for the trek to Tavistock and one of the few undesirable aspects of the week – cyclists. Cyclists! F**king cyclists?! I’m not usually adverse to the pursuit, but what sort of sub-breed decrees it to be a great idea to spend an entire holiday cycling the narrow roads of Cornwall? Coastal paths, yes; I can understand coastal paths or any designated Sustran’s routes. But what sort of sadist gets pleasure from nearly killing themselves, embarking on a steep hill climb in the blistering heat, while a half-mile tailback of traffic, led by an increasingly irate 4x4 driver crawl behind them, awaiting for a passing opportunities? I’d personally like to ban caravanners from all minor roads during daytime hours…now there’s another for the list!

Tavistock itself was a welcome breath of footballing fresh air. First of all, on arrival I was guided by a chatty steward to the parking spots at the local primary school…oh and that’s free parking by the way! I was then directed to the ground where the clubhouse was serving beer and a barbecue had been laid on – I could get used to this!

The ground (it feels wrong to use the word ‘stadium’ in respect to homes of Tavistock or Bodmin) was as welcoming as expected. The beer was cold and the barbecue…well, that turned out to be a burger van, but let’s not split hairs, okay? Within minutes, Warnock had arrived, family in tow, revealing in part his motivations for choosing Cornwall as the tour destination. As he stopped to chat with supporters, sign autographs and pose for photos, the team bus pulled in and drew the crowds away. Was he on it?

As it was, Snoddy did disembark. Photographic proof of his presence was tweeted, the timelines went mental as the news spread and all was good with the world. As I returned towards the bar I encountered Leah and Liam for the first time; long term twitter associates and part of the match day crew who’d pay host to the drunken antics for the three upcoming fixtures.

While the most lasting first impressions of people are usually through constructed through their words, actions, personalities or maybe looks, Liam’s was in the form of his stomach – an object lesson in why sun tan lotion should be employed. His appearance of his stomach online caused quite a stir, even prompting one twitterbot to warn him of the very real dangers of him having contracted skin cancer...much to his concern. It was certainly a talking point and there was plenty of time to discuss it as the icredibly misguided decision to employ three bar staff was hopelessly exposed. “It wasn't like this for QPR!” claimed the barmaid…it wouldn’t the last time we’d hear that during the week.

For the opening half hour, the game was a dire encounter, the kind where either something special or a mistake would be needed to break the deadlock. As it was, something almost inconceivable sparked the game into life; Aidy White ran on to a throughball, kept his composure and calmly slotted the ball past the goalkeeper – a real “I was there” moment!

That moment was the spark for the Whites to dominate the remainder of the match. Paul Green’s tap-in effectively killed the game as a contest on the stroke of half-time and as Tavistock tired, Leeds started to the rack up the goals; a very sharp looking Dominic Poelon scoring a superb fifth, moments ahead of slipping Zac Thompson through for a sixth in the remaining moments.

Tuesday 24^th July

Open training session at Duchy College this morning. However, before that there was a small request to fulfil in Bodmin involving the ever present ‘Bates Out’ banner and the away dug-out… very worthwhile opportunity, I’d say!

Onwards to Duchy College; now I’m sure nobody was expecting something akin to Thorp Arch, but then again, discovering that a field within a field constituted the facility, was still something of a eye-opener. The arrival of the team coach is always a fascinating exercise, acting somewhat as a gauge to the popularity of individuals amongst the playing squad. It was noticeable that Danny Pugh, one of the first off the coach was able to make a totally clean getaway, straight down to the training pitch. You had to feel for poor Billy too; he looked up, more in hope than expectation on the off-chance that some kindly soul would call him over with a request for a photo or signature…but no luck. Off he trudged away, shoulders hunched.

One man who didn’t struggle was therobbierogers.com, he couldn’t possibly, for in Liam, he had his own superfan/stalker lying in wait, just hoping for that one cherished moment with his hero. He had come prepared: he was donning his own custom designed Robbie Rogers t-shirt and was now ready to reveal himself as the man who can’t let a tweet from the American master of metrosexuality pass without comment…

Remember the saying, “Be careful what you wish for”? Well, Liam got his wish, he finally spoke (he may have even slyly touched) his hero, revealing his devotion and his t-shirt, ready for the prized autograph – Robbie’s reaction? “Oh no!”

Seeing a man crushed is a discomforting spectacle.

The training session had been underway for 10 minutes before the call went out for Snoddy. He was still signing autographs on what must’ve been the most awkward of walks, knowing what was imminent.

Still, he wasn’t the last to show; Warnock again arriving with the family, cooly sauntering down during the warming up exercises, donning shades, resembling an aging Terminator on a Saga holiday.

Following some stretching, light jogging and passing exercises came the main event, the goals moved inwards for a game of 7-a-side as three teams alternated for the entertainment of the 400 or so spectators, who were sat around on the grass. Warnock officiated, passing on a mixture of praise and constructive feedback. “Don’t watch his eyes, Paddy!” he screamed as Snoddy came out on top in a 1-on-1 – his final goal in club colours.

After the exertions of watching others run about, the afternoon was all about exploration; while Carlyon Bay seemed to be a case of way too many steps for a beach blighted by way too much building work; the newly adopted strategy of relying on blind punts and twitter recommendations continued to pay dividends.

Fowey, was another fantastically picturesque harbour town offering a huge bay, a beautiful secluded beach and a castle… suddenly Whitby wasn’t seeming all that unique! Following a few hours there, it was onwards to Looe; the quickest way there was via the car ferry – a 60 second trip across about a 200m stretch of water for £3.50! That’s like nearly 6p per second…pah, Whitby does have a bridge at least!

That said, so does Looe, another stunning harbour town – yes, there are a lot of them! – a place also noticeable for its beach, a statue of a beloved seal by the name of Nelson (a regular visitor to the harbour for many years) and one rock that I was particularly fond of to the west of the bay...

I was so content sitting upon it, surrounded by the sea, drinking in the view, the disappearance of the rocks ahead rather passed me by as a sign that the tide was coming in; the journey back to dry land was rather hazardous.

Wednesday 25^th July

Bodmin beckons; a long day of drinking! Time for another quick trip out first though; this morning Port Isaac: a tiny fishing village on the west coast and location for TV show, Doc Martin (apparently). It didn’t disappoint, albeit the regular stream of middle-aged couples in sensible walking shoes, each politely inquiring if I knew where Martin Clunes’ house was got a little tiring.

Having time to spare, I did intend to spend half an hour exploring the adjacent Port Gaverne, but a message informing me of Snoddy’s departure to Norfolk for talks changed all that. When a bar offering free wi-fi is yards away, suddenly the folly of holidaymaking is cast into perspective. It’s not how I ever pictured receiving such gutting news; I fully expected to find out one day while at work, or more probably see it suddenly appear on that ‘Sky Sports Breaking News’ banner on SSN – I grown to hate that banner; like a yellow conveyer belt, intent on delivering endless misery to Leeds fans, ‘breaking’ endless misery at that. Ah well, back to Bodmin – at least the ‘Bates Out’ banner will be in vogue!

The banner was to prove very much a welcome decoration, that is except with Wetherspoon’s big wigs; having arrived early afternoon to secure a prominent fence position, one of the junior members of staff was instructed to come out and request its removal – apparently at the behest of Head Office, who'd noticed it through the medium of the all-seeing security cameras. It was like being a part of the dystopian world foretold in George Orwell’s ‘1984’ – seems that he didn’t reckon on Bodmin being 28 years behind the curve.

Needless to say, as the alcohol consumption rose, the venue became ever livelier; a new request not to drink on the grass as it contravened the licence was met with a chant of “We’ll drink on the grass, we’ll drink on the grass, f**k you Wetherspoon’s, we’ll drink on the grass”, more football specific collection of takeover chants followed, including “Sheikhs in! Bates Out!” and “Oh, Sheiky, Sheiky, Sheiky”… to the tune of the ‘Hokey Cokey’… Eventually, cider fuelled bravado led to increasingly provocative posing with the ‘Bates Out’ banner in front of the security cameras before it eventually returned to the fence – nobody complained.

Asking for recollections of the match would be a fairly pointless request of a man who told those asking back at the campsite the following morning that the game had finished 2-0 (as opposed to 4-0); though hazy memories do remain of getting a prime position behind goal for the ‘Bates Out’ banner and Robbie Rogers’ refusal to pose with it.

A spot in front of the fence but behind the goal also became the perfect place from which to launch the “Andy’s going grey” chant, and for one of the party, a certain Matty Powell, to score a goal during the game, relieving the Bodmin keeper of the ball as he lined up a goal kick.

The post-pub journey home was certainly interesting. A seemingly short walk into town left a degree of misplaced confidence, fuelled rather by excessive alcohol consumption, about making the return also on foot. I would say walking 4 miles on predominantly unlit 60 mph ‘A’ roads at 11.30 is quite an experience, but compared to the final mile on tiny country lanes in thick mist, that was nothing.

Thursday 26^th July

The one football free day, so time to hit the road and six destinations to do in 12 hours! First up Penzance, a bit like every seaside town used to be like in the 1980s (minus the raw sewage on the beaches back then), but with lots of pirate stuff.

To immerse myself in the history of the place I thought it only fair to call at one of the genuine pirate pubs; very authentic it was too, very convincing decor…shame about the Dirty Dancing soundtrack on the jukebox.

Next to Porthcurno, a tiny place that’s essentially a handful of buildings, a couple of beaches…oh, and an open air theatre, carved into the cliffs!

The beaches are quite possibly the best in the country and the theatre so stunning I even found myself wanting to stay longer through a production of ‘Romeo & Juliet’, even if a ginger bloke in a polo shirt who resembled Ron Weasley was playing the male lead.

Land’s End was what it said on the tin…the land kinda ended. It was noticeable, the scenery aside for seemingly concentrating every bit of tackiness I’d witnessed in Cornwall, compressed into the area of the courtyard. Sennen sat just a mile’s walk along the coastal path, offering a huge beach and ice cream to die for.

North then to St Ives…you know the score by now – stunning harbour, fabulous beaches... oh and lots of seals in the harbour too!

The evening finished with a dash further north to catch the sunset at Perranporth (another twitter tip) and a drink at a bar offering the best sea view of all (and there’s been some competition); the Waterhole on the beach.

I’m not sure there’s a better drinking experience to be found anywhere on these shores.

Friday 27^th July

Farewell Cornwall, hello Devon, good afternoon Torquay.

It’s hard to develop an accurate impression of a seaside town when 90% of conscious time there is spent either in the pub or at the football, though it did strike me as a place where a variety of folk visit to holiday and where the elderly move to die.

There were certainly plenty of elderly around the harbour area where the latest Wetherspoon’s to play host to LUFC was positioned. As the fans chanted down from the balcony, ridiculing a Liverpool fan, an old dear in front of me was heard to say to her husband, “Look at them lot! Football hooligans; wankers the lot of them”… bless the older generation! It does appear that the coffin dodgers in Torquay are quite anarchic though as one shopmobility scooter riding Scum supporter proved, riding back and forth, air horn in hand, below the Leeds fans in an attempt to goad them. Eventually the beer showered down on him, but he still came back for more. Only when the police stepped in to caution him for driving the wrong way up the dual-carriageway did he relent. Apparently, according to one officer, he’s a local eccentric and “a pain in the arse!”

Sheikhs were again in attendance as the songs rang out across the seafront, “Paddy Kenny’s having a party, bring your vodka and your charlie” seemingly another newly established favourite.

As with everywhere else, the police were very friendly, one copper even helping to take down the ‘Bates Out’ banner on the bridge, while another helped Jo to put it up by the corner flag at Plainmoor.

The fans were in particularly good voice in the stadium – they had to be as they accounted for roughly three-quarters of the crowd – and after two fine strikes by Ross put Leeds in the driving seat, found the best way of keeping themselves entertained was chanting at each other in the adjacent stands. “Your support is f**king shit”, “Who the f**king hell are you?”, “2-0 and you still don’t sing” and the like finally giving way to a succession of Mexican waves that eventually took in the whole stadium.

During a more even second half, focus shifted to the famously touted barbecue at the manager’s house. “We’re having a party at Warnock’s house” was followed by a succession of chants that embraced an entire menu including, sausages and burgers, jelly and ice cream, Yorkshire puddings and so on; the chant then progressed to a sleepover, prostitutes… this could be the new “We all love Leeds”!

The remainder of the evening was spent at the other harbour side Wetherspoon’s (the one that doesn’t suddenly employ a dress code at dusk) watching the Olympics opening ceremony; it was a truly remarkable production, although you always felt that the sight of Ben Fry in a Macron jacket could’ve somehow taken it up another level.

Saturday 28^th July

A time for a full English and a walk around Torquay to reflect/sober up ahead of the drive home.

In honesty it was a fantastic trip, one I’d happily take every summer. Off the pitch, the police, the stewards and the pubs (bar the Nazis at Wetherspoon’s Head Office) have all been superb while the support have taken every opportunity to make them seen and heard, all WITHOUT pissing off anyone in the process – result!

As for what I’ve learned about the players? Well probably not as much as I may have done sober, but Ashdown looks a very solid back-up keeper (though be aware, so did Rachubka at this stage), Paul Green has fared better than expected, Michael Brown is actually playing well, Aidy White can actually do something with the ball other than run with it, while Dominic Poleon put in some very decent cameos.

Off the pitch, only one piece of advice – remember the sun cream kids!!

110 Days of Torture in Review: Week 12

2012-07-22T09:08:00.000+01:00

Finally football is back to distract the masses from the all-consuming TOMA fever that's been common in every little corner of the planet that is forever Leeds. That’s not to say that all takeover talk has ceased; TOMA is after all, the thread that NEVER sleeps; the impending arrival of the 50,000^thpost and 3,500,000^th stand testament to that – you notice I didn’t use the word ‘imminent’ then? I thought it insensitive to do so in the current climate where its repeated use is driving us all to despair… oh, but wait; I have mentioned now in making a point that I won’t mention it! Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!!!

As per usual, despite the conjecture, little in the way of new, ground breaking information has emerged from the depths of that ever growing malaise of intelligent second guessing, tantalising hints from more learned individuals and the remaining 99% of bollocks contained with. That said, as always, there are highlights to be had if you delve deeply enough; this week’s being a three-page long diversion discussing the emotional impact of dog’s death…

Admit it, we've all had the same dream...

Anyway, back to the football, as the more I think about TOMA, the more I doubt myself and the more I torture my mind with visions that Bates has come up with yet another elaborate ruse to keep hold of the seat of power in LS11…

Monday 16^th July

Adam Drury eases the PR burden shouldered by Jason Pearce and Tom Lees by trotting out a few token clichés about the toughness of pre-season training, remarkably finding that there’s a ‘feelgood factor’ around Thorp Arch where the “great set of lads” he’s getting to know are “absolutely buzzing” about the new season in prospect – delivered like a true pro Adam, delivered like a true pro…

Plainmoor: Temporary home to 2000 Leeds fans...and not a single one more!

While uncertainty continues to surround the club, it’s reassuring to know that the official site is trying its upmost to relieve the tension with the odd humorous story; today they report an update regarding the Torquay game, stating that new arrangements have been put in place for visiting supporters. The changes have been made as a result of the decision to release 500 extra tickets to Leeds fans after the original allocation of 1500 tickets sold out “incredibly quickly”.

The piece starts…

“Torquay are expecting over 2000 Leeds fans for the pre-season game at Plainmoor on Friday, July 27^th and ticketing arrangements have been adjusted to meet the requirements of both Torquay and Leeds supporters”

Yes, I think we can all rest assured that no Leeds supporters exist who will have bought tickets in the Torquay end, or will turn up on the evening trying to do so… The fools, the naïve fools!

Tuesday 17^th July

The club confirm the departure of Andy Lonergan to Bolton Wanderers. Lonners hopes to challenge for the number 1 shirt at the Reebok Stadium and make it his own; we can only hope that for the sake of our promotion prospects, he succeeds. Neil Warnock confirms that the move leaves Paul Rachubka as the only experienced back-up at the club…and is even quicker to confirm that he’ll be looking to get in alternative experienced back-up.

Huddersfield Town up the ante in the race for Lee Peltier by offering Leicester a deal thought to be potentially worth £650,000, the sort of fee unheard of in these parts since the days that Kevin Nicholls roamed the land.

With a face like that he might just fit in at Carrow Road...

A far bigger story concerns a fresh bid from Norwich City to lure Robert Snodgrass to Carrow Road; the offer is quickly dismissed but a second offer would seem inevitable. The biggest question concerns whether Paul Lambert will also enter the race, now he’s at Aston Villa; the prospect of a two-way battle is an intriguing one. It has all the hallmarks of a child custody case, rather like ‘Kramer vs Kramer’, for those familiar with the 80s Oscar winning film. On one side, there’s the motherly Paul Lambert, he’s always been there for his beloved Leeds players, always keeping an eye on them and making them feel special, and now he wants to be the sole guardian of little Snoddy. On the other side stands Chris Hughton, the stereotypical absent father, who suddenly, after spending his days relentlessly pursuing career progression, has devoted a bit of time to ‘Wee Bob’ (in my mind, he’s given him a pet name) and found himself smitten; he’s even taught him to make what is just the best French toast…and now he can’t face life without him either.

In the film, the mother wins, but then realises in the end, that the child’s home is now with his dad – make of that, what you will…

Wednesday 18^th July

The club proudly announce that UAP TradeLocks are to be the new sponsors of the South Stand. Amidst all the corporate spiel in the official announcement, it is revealed that:

“UAP TradeLocks is a UK based company with an unsurpassable reputation for product quality and innovation. The company prides itself on providing quality products at quality prices”

Doesn't quite have the same cache as The Lurpak Stand!

Credit to Shaun Harvey for sealing the deal – I’ve no idea where he began to find any common ground during negotiations.

Another quality arrival at Elland Road promises to be Rodolph Austin. In the YEP, ex-United star and team mate of Rodolph, Eirik Bakke adds to the hype, suggesting:

“He will suit Leeds perfectly. Leeds fans want players who give their all every match and he does that. He’s never injured and he is a very good player… As a player, he has pace and is a really strong tackler. He does a lot of the DIRTY work…”

Ok, stop right there Eirik! You had me at ‘dirty’ Eirik, you had me at ‘dirty’…

Thursday 19^th July

The YEP report that SK Brann expect to resolve the future of future Leeds cult hero, footballer of the year and statue commemorated superman, Rodolph Austin to be resolved by the weekend. Monday week is tentatively pencilled in for a Bank Holiday in Beeston.

En route to pick up his Nobel Prize...

Back in TOMA territory, a potentially significant development is uncovered on WACCOE as Leeds United register a new company, Leeds United Vision. On further investigation it is found that just prior to the formation of Leeds United Vision, Leeds United TV was also registered with Company House. The implications of the move are unclear, though many speculate that the moves have made to smooth over the final stages of the acquisition process, potentially destroying my dreams that the Chuckle Brothers were going to take over the running of LUTV.

Friday 20^th July

The latest “nailed on” takeover announcement passes with no more than a collective sigh and shrug of the shoulders, but thankfully there are numerous other titbits to feed from today. The big news is that Aidy White has had an about turn and will be signing a new 3 year deal at the club… with an improved offer for Snodgrass on the table from Norwich, the more cynical Leeds fans half expect stories of a late withdrawal from tonight’s game at Throstle Nest with a rather convenient ‘strain’ injury to follow – I don’t know what’s up with us!

A Snodgrass deprived Leeds team triumph 5-2 in a game of two teams; the first XI storming to a 3-0 half-time lead, the youth team/rejects XI sharing 4 goals in the second period. A slightly more detailed account can be found here.

Good news too for those who insist on having a replica shirt that’s a complete reproduction of the first team kit as a new batch of shirts arrive in the club shop, adorned with our secondary sponsor’s name. Any Leeds fans who’ve been desperate to have the word ‘iLuv’ plastered over your bottoms – time to fill your boots… just be careful that’s the only thing you have filled.

Serving the cheapest beer in town from noon - be prepared!

More details are also made available about Monday’s friendly with Tavistock. The clubhouse will be open from midday and will be selling drinks and pasties from then; confounding lazy stereotypes about locals being insular, burgers, hotdogs and chips will also be available from 2pm. The revelation that the clubhouse offers pool, darts and a TV sets the venue some way above Billy’s Bar, whilst the statement that it sells the cheapest beer in town can only be asking for trouble.

Saturday 21^st July

Aidy White confirms his future is with Leeds by signing a new 3 year contract. Neil Warnock reveals that in the end, the ‘pull’ of Leeds United was the decisive factor in Aidy’s decision; whether the ‘push’ of Derby County played some role in making his mind up in another matter entirely.

Don't pass the Duchy...

Back to the imminent…oh bollocks, sorry, upcoming tour of Cornwall, and the club confirm that the open day for Leeds fans to come and watch a training session will take place on the Tuesday. The venue is question is Duchy College, Stoke Climsland. It is highly recommended that supporters program the address into their sat navs, otherwise they may drive along, blissfully unaware as they pass the Duchy on the left hand side – seriously, what other blog can offer you Musical Youth based puns?!

Sunday 22^nd July

I have no idea if anything of significance has happened today as I’m writing this entry from the distant past (Saturday evening, with the aid of wine); it’s a necessary act as by the time I tweet the link to this I’ll be on route to Bodmin. If you catch this mid-morning, chances are I might be in the Waitrose at Hopwood Park Services, hoping to track down another bag of those beef and horseradish flavour savoury mix, party snack type thingies, if it’s around lunchtime then maybe I’ll be at the Michael Wood Services KFC…anyway, you get the general idea!

Recommended!

With that in mind, I should warn you that next week’s review takes a mildly radical departure towards the tried and trusted ‘tour diary’ format. I can only promise that superfluous junk food references will be kept to an absolute minimum!

Farsley 2 Leeds United 5

2012-07-21T14:02:00.002+01:00

Why is it that everything about Leeds United is seemingly anchored in the notion of “slow arousal”? When Bates first penned this immortal phrase in his programme notes in reference to the rebuilding process at Elland Road, it was reluctantly accepted that under his reign, this represented the best case scenario supporters could hope for. Then suddenly, back in May, a ray of light – TOMA!...

Suddenly Leeds fans the world over, cast aside thoughts of painfully slow progress (if we were lucky) and were ready to jump straight from the initial metaphorical cock teasing stage to the moment of full on release, ready to shower the rest of the footballing world with the sticky residue of hope, joy and glory… except it hasn’t happened. Having suffered over 7 years of almost unbroken footballing flaccidity under Ken, we’re now heading towards our ninth week of a painfully extended takeover foreplay period, as we STILL wait on news of his departure – even f**king Sting, employing all his yoga skills, would struggle to keep his pecker up for this long.

This used to be all fields, you know...

So thank God for the return of the actual football to provide a little light relief; hell, I was even feeling quite well disposed toward the prospect of seeing Danny Pugh again last night, even if it was only because he was guaranteed to provide me with an alternative focus for frustration and despair.

It was fitting that the pre-season campaign should start against Farsley, a club with which I’m sure Bates can wholly identify; they too lived the dream, reaching for the stars in the dizzy heights of the Blue Square Conference, before crashing, burning, liquidising and then resurrecting themselves in the Northern Counties East League Premier Division; they too have sold off training pitches for residential developments and possess a large corrugated hall/sports centre that masquerades as conferencing venue; there are even whispers of a “One Team, One Village” season ticket campaign…now if only they had any space to build a Travelodge.

Ahead of the game, spirits were good, helped no end by the freak dry weather and the short queues at the bar in the sports hall; being charged less than £3 for a pint at a Leeds game was certainly a novel experience too, as was watching one worse for wear fan, attempting to have a piss in the communal shower area in the changing rooms.

Pre-game

In the build-up to kick-off, Farsley kindly obliged the visiting support with a selection of tunes from the ‘Leeds United’s Greatest Hits’ album, albeit come 7.45pm the home team appeared a little less welcoming, intent rather on kicking the shit out of anything that moved in a Leeds shirt. The aggression for the most part, only lasted for the opening few minutes – it seems that’s another thing Farsley and Leeds have in common.

During the 'on top but not doing an awful lot' period of the game

As the game settled down, Leeds took a grip of the proceedings and comfortably controlled matters, though had little to show for it, other than a number of Calverley-bound long range efforts on goal. The initial impressions of the new signings were good; Kenny in truth had nothing to do, while Pearce and Crainie were also relatively untroubled. I did like the look of Crainie though, even if it was just because he bore a slight resemblance to a caveman, a bit like a better groomed Olaf Mellberg, if you will. In the middle of the park, Paul Green confounded expectations by looking relatively composed and offering a threat going forward, while up front, Andy Gray capped a decent opening half hour by sparking a sudden goal rush.

SCORE!!

Gray’s first came on 31 minutes as he ran onto McCormack’s slide-rule pass to loop the ball over the keeper from 14 yards. Ross then nodded back a deep Tom Lees cross moments later for Gray to head home a second, then on 36 McCormack again was involved (anyone would think he had a point to prove), his clipped ball found Michael Brown, who picked out therobbierogers.com who nodded in from close range – SCORE!! It was seminal evening for the American who was rocking the pirate look with a degree joie de vivre; not only did he score, he survived an entire half on the pitch and left without the aid of any medical staff.

This season's 'must have' pirate look

It was also a good night for Tom Lees who in his right-back role appears to have re-discovered an ability to cross the ball that was last in evidence, last August. Aidy White celebrated his realisation that no club is going to pay £10k+ a week for a Forrest Gump clone with another stint on the right side of midfield, and although he again offered little in the way of product in the final third, at least his pace did attract one lunge that sparked a chant “Same old Farsley, always cheating!”- Irony isn’t dead.

The queues for beer were rather longer in the sports hall during the interval and for a passing moment at least, a degree of tension was tangible as the pumps ran dry… cue the arrival of a local hero, appearing from the fire door, stage right, with box upon box of cans, looted from the nearby Asda store; cheers rightfully acknowledged his arrival.

Farsley Sports Centre/Pavilion

The second half held rather less interest than the first in truth, in fact Warnock chose to bugger off minutes after the team talk, leaving Ronnie Jepson to overlook a second eleven that were a mish-mash of youngsters and some senior players who most supporters were hoping had departed by now. That said, those who persevered were rewarded with another goal from Billy (let’s just gloss over the misses) that came sandwiched between a weakly defended Farsley effort from a corner and a rather better 25 yard second for the opposition; sadly for Farsley’s Ryan Watson, in the closing moments, Sanchez Payne found himself channelling the spirit of Fabian Delph, cutting in from the touchline and unleashing an unstoppable long range effort of his own into the bottom corner – upstaged!

So one encouraging work-out down and now onwards to Cornwall: will the torment of the takeover continue to drag on during our time in the South West? We can only hope it doesn’t, but for however long it does, the sentiments will remain the same…and courtesy of Mr ‘We Beat The Scum 1-0’s’ now infamous banner, the message will be there for all to see in Tavistock, Bodmin and Torquay.

Cornwall bound...keep your eyes peeled!

I cannot help but think that I maybe should’ve removed it from my window before falling asleep last night…then again, maybe I’m not the only sickpot in the cul-de-sac? Heck! Let those neighbours talk!

110 Days of Torture in Review: Week 11

2012-07-15T15:03:00.000+01:00

TOMA fatigue has set in; with 45000 posts and over 3.1 million views, even the hardiest participants on WACCOE’s longest ever thread have found their shift gazing towards the actual football. All credible sources are staying silent while every other party who inspired belief among the masses have now been dismissed as attention seeking honorary members of ‘Club ITK Bullshitters’. If we thought life under Bates with no glimmer of escape was tough, it seems now that it’s the hope that really kills you.

Courtesy of I R Leeds from WACCOE

Still, this is the week that pre-season got underway, when football’s greatest love affair has been rekindled and a Norway based Jamaican who nobody had heard of before Friday has been accredited with LUFC legend status, so hopes are rekindled...

Roll on Farsley Celtic!!

Monday 9^th July

It’s the week when pre-season is upon us and ahead of preparations kicking-off on Wednesday, Neil Warnock offers some thoughts to the official website. The boss has high expectations of his troops and reveals that some have already returned ahead of the 11^th July start date. As for the rest of the players; he has no undue concerns regarding their levels of professionalism:

“Lads look after themselves nowadays and so they should. It’s a different ball game to what it what it used to be. We’ll look to have a good week’s training before we start with the game at Farsley”

Who ate all the hotdogs?...

The comments go some way towards putting to bed the rumour that the hotdog man who’s been pedalling takeover rumours on twitter was using Billy Paynter as his source. Meanwhile, the announcement that the ticket office will be closed on Friday for a systems upgrade inevitably leads to a new wave of TOMA conspiracy theories...

Tuesday 10^th July

Away from the madness of the present, time is taken to pay tribute to the man who made Leeds United what it is; on what would’ve been Don Revie’s 85^th birthday, the official site pays the ultimate tribute it can, by publishing a piece completely free of factual inaccuracies and grammatical errors... a humbling epitaph indeed.

Gone but not forgotten...

Another applaudable announcement is that of a freeze on matchday ticket prices at Elland Road, ensuring that admission will be pegged at ‘wholly excessive’ as opposed to ‘exorbitant in the extreme’ levels for the coming 10 months. The seeming generosity of the board in making this gesture is immediately undermined by the announcement that the season opener, the lunchtime televised fixture Wolves will be a Category A game.

Away from Elland Road, Alan Smith agrees to join MK Dons on a 2 year deal, ensuring that after countless transfer windows spanning many years, LUFC supporting keyboard warriors the world over, will have to find another player to come to virtual fisticuffs over... it’s been emotional.

Wednesday 11^th July

Finally, it’s back! Pre-season training commences; the first sign of the impending new campaign is upon us, a chance to sample that initial tingle of excitement as supporters are presented with an opportunity to see the players, both new signings and old favourites, back on the training pitches of Thorp Arch. New kits, new start, new season, new hope... this is what we’ve been waiting for!

Imagine then the scenes across the four corners of the globe when those first, hotly anticipated photos are posted on the website...

Still here...

... and the first shot is of Paul Connolly and Danny Pugh! Reality check, anyone? Still, there are also shots of new signings, Jason Pearce and Adam Drury to at least satiate the hunger for something positive to cling on to.

Rather adding fuel to the optimism bonfire is the announcement of Paddy Kenny’s arrival at Elland Road. Neil Warnock acknowledges that Kenny’s arrival was one of the worst kept secrets in football, saying:

“I don’t think you can keep secrets at Elland Road. Somebody knows everything”

Does TOMA not ring a bell, Neil?

Regardless, Warnock’s joy at securing Kenny’s signature is indisputable and he proclaims the signing of the keeper to be “the most important I’ll make while I’m at Leeds United” – Danny Webber is understood to be distraught.

Warnock added that the club were continuing to “look all over the place” as part of the recruitment drive; a tearful Glynn Williams is thought to be locked in a dark room, scouring ‘Football Manager 2012’ database for talent, day and night.

Forever...

For his part, Paddy is equally delighted to seal his move to Elland Road. His arrival marks a new chapter in one of football’s most enduring love stories: following on from Bury, Sheffield United and QPR, Leeds United represents the fourth club that Warnock has brought to Kenny to; the pair seemingly inseperable - an all too rare, loving, father and son dynamic, existing in an otherwise sadly, sentimentality starved business, the essence of which was beautifully distilled into imagery by howsonisnow.com...

For his part, Paddy says all the right things, ticking off every cliché that any footballer joining a new club should adhere to; truly a text book performance by our new ‘Number 1’.

Full marks, Paddy!

It’s a day where exciting news just doesn’t relent as the club also reveals a major overhaul for LUTV; promises are made of a whole raft of new and exciting content, this includes more clips, interviews and behind the scenes footage. Of more concern is the axing of the daily ‘We Are Leeds’ show – what is to become of Ben Fry?!

Another new feature to enhance the matchday experience is the new ‘tunnel cam’; whether this new innovation is purely an initiative by the club, or rather a collaboration with West Yorkshire police, with a keen eye on El Hadji Diouf’s next visit is unclear.

It is also announced that Billy’s Bar and Howard’s Restaurant will be closed over the weekend due to an “external event”. The event in question is the annual Jehovah’s Witnesses’ convention – it seems that even Ken Bates’ businesses can be disrupted by ‘Acts of God’.

Thursday 12^th July

Neil Warnock confirms that Andy Gray has joined the club on a two week trial, though is quick to dismiss notions that his presence will automatically pave the way for a move. Talking further about the personnel currently at Thorp Arch, a rag tag collection of first teamers, squad players, those transfer listed, youth teamers and trialists; he labels them a “strange mix”... shorthand doubtless, for there being a lot of shit still hanging around.

Customary ageing trialist

He also mentions the departure of Adam Clayton to Huddersfield, intimating that the ‘occasional action’ midfielder had secured the contract he wanted at the Gapharm; that’ll be one that doesn’t truly recognise his ability to influence games then...

Most disturbing revelation of the week is that the new home and away shirts are also going to be available in ‘Bodyfit’ sizes. It’s notable that the ‘Bodyfit’ shirts are priced £5 higher for adult sizes; doubtless a small tax levied especially against those posers who want to make fellow Leeds fans feel inadequate by finding a new vehicle through which to flaunt their gym toned torsos. Thankfully it will equally serve to penalise those who overdose on the pies but are curious enough afflict those around them by trying out the new option. For once, I can only praise LUFC’s mercenary approach... though maybe a £20 premium next season, eh?

Friday 13^th July

Although not one governed by superstition, today sees a number of stories break that suggest that today’s date has exerted a strange influence over goings on...

Exhibit A

At the LUFC v West Yorkshire Police court case, Shaun Harvey contests the requirement of the club to pay what he considers excessive policing costs, citing the economic benefits the club brings to the local economy. Added to the earlier contention that the risk levels attached to many Leeds games are ridiculously exaggerated, there is a real possibility that our CEO’s final act in charge may be to talk a degree of sense...hell, we might even win a court case!

Exhibit B

Harry Kewell is voted by an esteemed panel of 15,000 judges as the greatest Australian footballer of all time; plucked from a shortlist that didn’t even feature Jacob Burns or Shane Candsell-Sheriff, the crocked morality vacuum who’s spent the last few years of his career underwhelming spectators in Turkey and Australia with his talent, somehow beat Mark Viduka to the title. It is thought that the judges are also planning to afford Peter Sutcliffe the title of ‘Greatest Living Yorkshireman’.

Exhibit C

One of the videos Nayls should be digging out...

Richard Naylor returns to the club to gain experience as a coach; he’ll be doing for it Redders as part of the youth set-up; it’s unfortunate that those under his tutelage are probably too young to remember his days as a solid defender. Best dig out the League One era videos...

Exhibit D

Leeds table a bid for a player that is met with universal approval; the player in question is Jamaican international, Rodolph Austin, a defensive midfielder, built like several adjoining brick shithouses, and possessing tackle reminiscent of David Batty. YouTube clips (the scouting tool of choice for Leeds fans these days) and a cluster of rave reviews from Scandanavian Whites elevates Rodolph to cult status within hours; by Friday evening, the local Brann newspaper website is running a story about #RodolphAustinfacts – a derivative of #Brownfacts which in turn was shamelessly based on #ChuckNorrisfacts – trending on twitter.

He's Leeds, he just don't know he is...

Out of contract in December and as a result, currently available for transfer at a price rumoured to be in the region of £350,000, Rodolph seems too good to be true. While the current regime and Ipswich Town still exist, that may yet prove to be the case.

#prayforRodolph

Elsewhere, after another TOMA speculation frenzy, Neil Warnock appears on Sky Sports News and reveals exactly what could be realistically expected about the takeover – absolutely nothing. Predictably the textbook playing down of the situation is still enough to push some of the more extreme victims of TOMA fever towards the Prozac.

Offering rather more excitement is serial twitter bullshitter, @RyzinhoUK who assures all Leeds fans that the takeover would definitely be confirmed by 9pm, otherwise he’d be deleting his account – he had every right to be confident as THREE separate sources had confirmed as much...nobody else has even managed to secure one!

Bullshitters beware!

Predictably, come 9pm nothing had happened and @RyzinhoUK remains, albeit many of his followers don’t, while those that stick around, mainly do so to articulate their ‘disappointment’ at his bullshit... some of it isn’t pretty! The tweeter in question has since deleted his entire history of takeover tweets – another idiot who may have just learned a valuable lesson.

Saturday 14^th July

The YEP confirm (several days late) that one of the trialists at Thorp Arch is Martin Crainie, now a free agent having declined a new contract at Coventry City. Those who’ve seen him speak very highly of him, some even suggest he’s a better player than previously mooted Sky Blues target, Richard Keogh. Others however remain haunted by the last occasion that someone spoke the words “Crainie”, “Leeds United” and “left back” in the same sentence.

FOTC? Maybe not...

Bolton remain favourites to land Andy Lonergan for a price tag believed to be around the £200,000 mark, although rival clubs are also reported to be in the mix. Here’s hoping there’s another Championship club is actually willing to offer him the ‘Number 1’ shirt.

Sunday 15^th July

A report on The Mail on Sunday website suggests that Leeds are preparing a £3m bid for Craig MacKail-Smith. No sources are mentioned, no quotes provided, nor no heed is paid to Neil Warnock’s remarks about being thrifty with his transfer budget...I’m guessing it’s a no-goer.

110 Days of Torture in Review: Week 10

2012-07-08T14:52:00.002+01:00

And so a TOMA detox has begun – partial you understand, I have to be realistic here – after weeks of investing a wholly unhealthy proportion of time into twitter and WACCOE gossip and hanging off every word typed or uttered by Gary Cooper, like some profound teachings of Buddha, I’ve resolved to kick the rumour mill’s answer to a crystal meth habit and focus on enjoying the summer… well, at least until next ‘nailed on’ story of substance.

The only problem now is that I don’t remember my life without TOMA; how did I survive the summer months in the past? With the Euros gone I now have no football distractions, nor can I point to the novel presence of a massive fiery star some 150,000,000km away, to justify an existence of lounging about in the garden, moving only to periodically turn down the volume of the sound deck when the neighbours come out and I’m listening to some tune laden with ‘effing and jeffing’.

I’m finding myself reduced to being stuck indoors, in a mode of self-congratulation for side-lining the obsession that’s been keeping me indoors for the first place. Today I’ll be pinning my hopes that Lewis Hamilton will find God and after a chinwag, be given rights to channel the genius of Ayrton Senna’s abilities for driving in wet conditions; then to follow, I’ll be investing my hopes and passion into supporting a Scottish charisma vacuum, who appears to hold a thinly veiled disdain for the English, as he aims to triumph in a minority sport that holds little interest for me, 50 weeks a year – FML!

Still, at least my ‘Lord of the Rings’ metaphor for the takeover is holding true; we are deep into the final chapter… I’d just forgotten the film had so many f**king false endings! - I knew I should’ve gone with Star Wars, the celebrations on Endor were far more hip as well; the Ewoks may have been an annoying race whose introduction heralded a dip from which Star Wars saga would never recover, but those furry little bastards sure knew how to throw a party!

Monday 2^nd July

On the first of several quiet news days, LUFC resort to again announcing the capture of Paul Green and Adam Drury, although in fairness, this time it’s official: they’re contractually obliged to be professionally courteous to Ben Fry.

This is your life now, lads...

Another plug also for the 2012/13 season tickets as the club assures supporters that buying a season ticket is the only way to “guarantee your seat for what we hope will be an exciting campaign”. If that statement of intent is not enough to lure in potential customers, the club also reveal a new benefit for season ticket holders; the entitlement to purchase 3 online match tickets for other people (non-season ticket holders) with a £5 discount… it really does pay to commit, doesn’t it?

Tuesday 3^rd July

The Crown Prosecution Services announce that some 5 months after the incident, they do not intend to press any charges following the Elland Road tunnel scuffle at the end of the Doncaster game. A spokesman for the CPS revealed that the organisation were pleased to swiftly draw a line under the matter and would now be focusing all their on the cases of a man accused of littering during the poll tax riots, and a woman allegedly caught burning her bra at the Greenham Common protests in the early 1980s.

It’s also announced that the furthest flung away trip off the season, to the AMEX Community Stadium, has been rescheduled to the least convenient night of the week for the second year running at the whim of Sky: Brighton vs. Leeds United, Friday night – tempted?

Doesn't know when to pass, when to shoot, where he's heading...

Meanwhile, Neil Warnock reveals he doesn’t even know whether Aidy White will be returning for pre-season training:

“Presumably, he’ll tell me what’s going off when he comes back for pre-season training on the 11^th. Under the legal terms, I don’t suppose he has to train with us if he’s got fixed up, with him being under 24. But I think the lad will want to anyhow.”

It kinda puts our frustration about the takeover into perspective when the manager is even having to speculate whether he’ll see one of his players or not.

Wednesday 4^th July

Coventry City’s Richard Keogh is the latest name to be linked with a move to Elland Road; like another rumoured defensive target, Nottingham Forest’s Luke Chambers, Keogh was voted the Sky Blues’ ‘Player of the Year’; with new club mouthpiece and Pompey ‘Player of the Year’ Jason Pearce already on board, it would seem difficult to question Neil Warnock’s judgement on defensive recruits.

Disturbing resemblance to Andy Hughes, or is that just me?

It is reported that Coventry would look to recoup in the region of £1m if they were forced to sell… imagine that, Leeds United paying a seven figure sum! It has happened before kids – ask your granddad! Maybe Elland Road is finally becoming a desirable destination again? Well for mediocre journeymen at least as the YEP reports that another long rumoured target, Portsmouth’s Luke Varney has his heart set on a ‘dream move’ to Elland Road. Championship rivals be afraid... be very afraid.

Thursday 5^th July

The official site reveals that both Paddy Kisnorbo – possibly by now striking an uncanny resemblance to Robocop or the Bionic Man – and therobbierogers.com will both feature for Leeds in pre-season, albeit at not the same level of the others. Davide Somma is expected to return to training next month with a late September/early October return mooted. Dates! We have dates here! Has Ben Parker really patented the “days not weeks” sound bite and has now added it to his CV to impress potential employers with?

More positive news on the player speculation front as the YEP reports that a deal to bring Lee Peltier to the club is now imminent; a potential deal that's almost positive enough to force a reluctant smile and a philosophical, agreeable nod from most supporters. Simon Cox is also being linked…now steady on, that signing would actually border on the exciting! Are we actually ready for that?!

Leeds United 2012/14... oh, sorry! Wrong kit!

Even more exciting though is the sudden announcement of the brand new LUFC 2012/14 away (or if you prefer, the recycled Napoli 2011/12 home) shirt. The official site is all bluster as it excitedly spurts forth all the sales patter. Apparently:

The new kit, which has been designed by Macron in conjunction with the club (and Napoli) combines technology with classic Italian style and presents the new ‘azzurro’ steel colour (blue).

The shirt was created integrating a range of different fabrics; the main body is complemented by navy blue flanks in a mesh fabric that define the profile of the shirt and allow maximum breathability. The neck comes in ribknit with under collar contrasting fabric and the year the club was founded, 1919, embroidered on the back.

Mercifully, for those wanting the low down in layman's terms, Tom Lees enthused:

“The away one’s really nice, really nice colour an’ that; hmm… it’s nice, I really like it! I’m looking forward to wearing the away shirt especially, they're nice, really nice shirts…”

A beaming Tom Lees!...kinda

Causing almost a big a stir as the shirt itself was one publicity shot from the photo shoot of a smiling Tom Lees; granted it wasn’t a naturalistic smile, indeed it seemed pained, forced in the extreme, that of a man attempting to put on a brave face while the world around him has collapsed. I’d expect a similar grin from Adam Clayton when he meets the press at the Galpharm.

Much more disturbing however was the subsequent disclosure of further photographs taken on that day, by LUTV’s James Varley on his twitter timeline. One shot in particular sent a shudder of apprehension down the spine; a photograph of a statuesque Lees being filmed by a cameraman – it had an unnerving Lynchian undercurrent to it; far more Twin Peaks than Thorp Arch. It haunted my thoughts as I retired to bed that night, infiltrating my subconscious and burning into my mind a disturbing vision…

Thwarted mobile and iPad users - click here

I can't help but fantasise now that future LUFC transfer negotiations will be conducted in a manner akin to those exchanges in the 'Red Room'; Ben Fry, crouching as best he might to inhabit the role of The Man From Another Place, while Shaun Harvey dons a wig in an effort to convince the potential signing that he's the reincarnation of a savagely murdered girl they used to know.

For those either too young or culturally unaware to have immersed themselves in Twin Peaks, I make no apologies; it is a shortcoming you need to address, though rest assured, prior knowledge probably doesn’t add an overwhelming sense of clarity to what you may have just witnessed in the video above.

Friday 6^th July

After weeks of mourning the club’s inability to keep hold of Adam Clayton, the early morning announcement of a move to Huddersfield moves to at least assure some of those fans in question that he was (for 75% of games) a waste of space after all. Doubtless struggling to deal with the heartbreak of witnessing indignant, departing, Leeds tweeters decimating his followers list in a mass exodus, Clayton will have at least been heartened by the words of his new/old boss, Simon Grayson:

“He’s a player I admired when he was at Carlisle and Manchester City and we’re delighted to have secured his services to this football club. I think it shows our intent in the level of players we want to sign”

Guess the Dog Botherers are serious about trying to stay out of the bottom three…

Daily commuting times - always a factor in selecting a job

Clayton’s motives for the move may at the outset seem a little more puzzling, although maybe by looking beyond football considerations and at the wider picture, everything slots into place, as one look at Google Maps might suggest.

Saturday 7^th July

On the slowest of news days, the highlight of the YEP’s Leeds United coverage is Brendan Ormsby’s column where he reveals his least favourite football shirts of all time; predictably the 1970s chocolate brown Coventry City away kit is selected as Brendan’s biggest fashion ‘no no’; expect tips on interior design next week, specifically why contrasting walls are still in vogue and why powder blue is the new eggshell.

Terry Yorath's darkest hour

Away from the more respected channels and into the world of the great unwashed, uninformed and frankly moronic, the dissidents of The Square Ball head down to the bright lights of London for the FSF ‘Fanzine of the Year Awards’, hoping to retain their title. Ultimately, on those grounds the evening proves to be a disappointment, but the budget lavished out on rail tickets, a family room at a budget hotel and alcohol is not all put to waste as ex-White, Michael Gray is befriended (or practically raped in the case of Moscowhite) by the team and his telephone number secured… I’m assuming for interviewing purposes, although the team sounded quite smitten in a pretty gay way.

Sunday 8^th July

More fall-out from the FSF trip as it’s revealed that predictably, Moscowhite was identified as the first to hit the wall; mercifully photographic evidence was provided. Oddy did eventually return to the hotel, having disappeared, seduced by the bright lights and a short-lived, sexually charged, one way twitter relationship with a man whose twitter name closely approximates that of Dan, who himself was sadly deprived of Oddy's spooning services in the interim.

Let's see you reference that in LOL's 'The Square Ball Week', Moscowhite!

Oh and as for Leeds United? No news again. On WACCOE the main source of excitement derided over the weekend has been from members posting on the page of the thread that corresponds to their year of birth as it's reached - on the last visit they'd entered the 1980s - it really is that quiet... actually, scratch that, I've just had a new interesting text, quoting an announcement date, quoting a "very solid source".

Bollocks, I didn't even make it through the weekend! Back to the TOMA speculation rollercoaster it is...

110 Days of Torture in Review: Week 9

2012-07-01T14:51:00.002+01:00

It is here; July is upon us, the time when the most learned spirits of the twitter DM world foretold of the coming of our saviours - men of wealth, armed with gold, frankincense and the fabled war chest. The new LUFC financial year is upon us, the new working week in the Arabic world is upon us, Neil Warnock is due back in Leeds after a mini-break in Mablethorpe – the time has come…or maybe if not it will come tomorrow, or…

First pic of the new owner?

Actually no! Please God (or should that be Allah?) can it end inside the next 24 hours? This takeover saga has already claimed too many casualties; too many good people have seen their social lives dissipate, their sleep patterns destroyed, their sanity pushed to the limits by the seemingly never-ending speculation. And moreover, when it does end, what will become of the most serious victims; addicts suddenly deprived of their fix of the emotional rollercoaster, somehow having to re-assimilate into society?

Whether the symptoms are hangovers, nervous exhaustion or anxiety linked to withdrawal symptoms, will the announcement when it finally arrives, spark a wave of absenteeism in the work place… is TOMA fever going to become an accredited medical condition?

For the sake of everyone this has to end, and it has to end now; mercifully the learned spirits appear to have been very much in tune with events at Elland Road and even the YEP have thrown every single egg into the Middle Eastern takeover basket. Everyone agrees that it’s happening, everyone agrees that it’s “imminent”, but imminent is non-specific, just somebody, give us all a date and time already!!

To borrow the title of one of The Smiths’ finest songs…”HOW SOON IS NOW?”

Monday 25^th June

The Leeds United week begins in historic style as the Olympic torch passes by Elland Road on Monday morning. There was relief all around as the designated torch bearer, Paula Punnett, arrived with her beaming smile on her face, as opposed to a chav in a white shell suit, holding aloft a cheap cigarette lighter.

Scrap metal passes through Beeston without being stolen

In an attempt to satisfy demand, the club announce they’ve secured a further 500 tickets for the pre-season friendly in Torquay…the decision to schedule the game on a Friday night, during high season is looking forever more misguided.

The YEP reveals that Neil Warnock is taking one final holiday before the hard slog of the pre-season preparations begin in earnest. But as the manager revealed, he won’t be completely getting away from it all:

“We need to push on from here and in the week or 10 days leading up to July 11^th, I’ll be looking to get quite a number of deals done. I’m getting away for a short break but, to be honest, the hard work never stops. I couldn’t be working harder on all this…

…Oi, waiter! Where’s that beer I ordered? Dos San Miguels, gracias! Oh and remember, I want Heinz ketchup with my fish fingers and chips!”

A doctored picture is worth a thousand words

Elsewhere, once exciting football talent-cum-mercenary-cum-morality vacuum, Harry Kewell reveals that he’s looking to move back to England after spending last season pushing himself/feathering his retirement fund in the competitive environment of the Australian A-League. Having previously claimed his move to Galatasary was in part a conscious attempt to “build bridges” between Leeds United and arguably the most despicable football club in European football, expect the next port of call on his saintly mission to take in Cardiff or Bermondsey…

Tuesday 26^th June

Following weeks of frenzied speculation and allegedly, a little pressure from LUST, the club finally release a fresh statement, announcing that they’ve granted a ‘potential investor’ an exclusivity period in which to carry out a period of due diligence. They also add that they foresaw no problems with either that, or the Football League’s criteria for fit and proper persons. On the surface, the statement only confirms for certain that a minimum of 30% of the club is being bought…but to everyone else, reading between the lines, IT’S A TAKEOVER!!!!

Overly vague statement #2

Gary Cooper from the Supporter’s Trust confirms as much again in a Radio Leeds interview, and yet in comparison to the celebrations sparked by the initial statement, reaction is a little more muted this time, certainly on WACCOE. It can only be the ‘Bates effect’; after nearly 7 and a half long years of abuse at the hands of the owner, Leeds fans are finally being exposed to the glorious hope of sunlight, but all of a sudden they're getting just a little bit cagey.

The saviour... as a metaphor

I see it rather like an episode of ‘Animal Hospital’; the abused Leeds fan, a malnourished dog, the saintly bidder, offering us rescue from a life of misery and appalling abuse, taking the guise of Rolf Harris. Although the beaming sun and the promise of a new, better, happier existence has clearly come into view and the Leeds fans' eyes have now adjusted and re-focused, their minds are still trying to get to grips with the concept of liberation; currently we find ourselves at the delousing stage, as LUST and the media move rid us all of our infestation of insecurities. The metaphorical maximum strength Bob Martin’s shampoo has been applied, and now we’re just one rinse away from taking our first tentative steps into a joyous new world…

Elsewhere, the Sky TV conspiracy to deprive Leeds fans of Saturday afternoon football begins in earnest with the season opener against Wolves being moved forward to a 12.45pm kick-off, while no doubt South Yorkshire Police will have been thrilled that the Leeds invasion of Owlerton has now been re-scheduled for a Friday night.

Wednesday 27^th June

As the almost foreign concept of hope and optimism continues to sweep across supporters in a tidal wave, the club move to make the opening pre-season game at Farsley Celtic, an all-ticket affair. A £1 booking fee and advance ticket at least buys supporters time for an extra pint on Town Street before the game.

It all starts here...

The club announce a new partnership with Levy restaurants for catering at Elland Road. The organisation are revealed to be a chain of the sport and leisure division of the Compass Group; in turn they are part of the wider AEG group – speculation immediately hots up again that it’s the Americans buying the club. I offer up the suggestion on twitter that even Harvey wouldn’t be stupid enough to publicise the agreement if there was a chance it’d compromise the confidentiality of the ‘investors’… needless to say, the responses I received, rather differed on the point.

The YEP reports that Crystal Palace are set to join Huddersfield and Bristol City in the race to sign Ross McCormack – am I missing something here? I thought he’d just had a good season?

Thursday 28^th June

Another sign that the takeover is all but done as Leeds announce another commercial deal; suddenly the club is getting an ‘Official Global Hotel Partner’, yes you read that right, no longer Bewley’s with their chain of 6 hotels across England and Ireland, now we’re bed partners with the Intercontinental Group who have Holiday Inns all over the shop… including the likes of Bahrain, Qatar, North America, France etc. etc…

#prayforamove

As the YEP reports the deal to secure the services of Lee Peltier is almost sealed, the news is not so good for Paul Connolly as it’s revealed that the previous incumbent of the right-back slot at Elland Road is facing surgery on his hernia. The YEP describes the development as a blow for Connolly as interest in him is likely to remain tentative while he works his way back to full fitness. Most rational readers recoil in shock that there is anything approaching tentative interest in him in the first place.

Friday 29^th June

After teasing Leeds fans with tweets suggesting some serious developments at Elland Road, Adam Pope delivers the news that the takeover is all but done and although there are no clues to when an announcement will be made, it would seem that one is imminent. Back on the show again is LUST’s Gary Cooper who essentially confirms that all the rumours of Middle East bidders are true and when asked about the implications for the club he replied… now get this, read it back, say it back and savour it:

“I do know that this gives all Leeds United fans the opportunity to… dare to dream”

The YEP were quick to follow suit, suddenly even they were confidently stating as fact that it was a takeover, it was Middle East money and it was happening very soon. Predictably Peter Lorimer was excited, but rather more at pains how Ken Bates’ hard work in re-establishing Leeds United as a well-run club has made this all possible… After all, where would we be without the plummeting gates, loss making businesses, the £4m lost in court cases and the £5m of season ticket money mortgaged against the cost of rebuilding a stand where half of the executive boxes sit unused? Promoted maybe?

Merry Christmas, from all at Nottingham Forest... twats!

The latest swathe of fixtures change at the whim of Sky TV and the police are announced. There’s the standard early kick-off for the Dog Botherer’s game, moved no doubt to ensure that all the young offenders could get back home before the security tag curfew kicks in. Derby and Forest follow suit, the prospect of another early Boxing Day start, an absolute joy!

On a more positive note, less than 100 tickets remain now for the Torquay game – in the Leeds end, that is… it’s gonna an interesting night!

I spent my Friday at opening night of The Stone Roses comeback concert and for those not comfortable with simply relying on the media and LUST to satisfy their needs to be reassured about the new era at Leeds, then how about I throw omens into the mix too?

Reni: Ahead of the curve again

After years in the music wilderness, The Roses officially announced their return to the big time today; just as – unofficially at least – Leeds United may have done; the band were at their very peak around 1989 and 1990, accumulating in a mass celebration at Spike Island in May… I seem to recall that coincided with a rather special time at Elland Road too; oh and if anybody wants to write these omens off, just take a look at what Reni, the catalyst for the band’s demise and at the forefront of their resurrection was sporting as head gear…

Case closed m’laud!

Saturday 30^th June

A quiet news day on the LUFC front, although it seems now that Nottingham Forest are on the verge of completing their takeover. Was it really only a few weeks ago that Leeds fans were working themselves into a frenzy about being owned by a fridge magnate?

Mr Chairman...

It’s possible that Fawaz Al-Hasawi will be good for Forest, although having witnessed his twitter campaign over the past month, I’d suggest they were welcome to him; a break from such ego driven self-publicists at Elland would be a most welcome prospect – maybe the Al-Hasawi may be interested in a loss making radio station?

Sunday 1^st July

It’s 12.50pm, it’s a business day in the Middle East, they’re several hours in front of the UK and there’s absolutely nothing new to speak of.

F**k me! It’s gotta happen Monday then, it’s just gotta…