Leeds United 1 West Ham 1

“Well hello! Good morning my old friend! Do come in; how have you been keeping? I must say you’re looking every bit as well as I remember you…lovely to have you back. Please make yourself at home…ah yes, that’s right, I’ve kept your old resting place between the ‘rose tinted sentimentality’ and ‘hang on in there, it will get better’ areas of my cerebral real estate – make yourself comfortable.”

That’s how things were playing out in my mind on Saturday morning; the beloved old friend? The pre-match buzz – absent for so long, but its re-arrival emphatic and widespread, evidence of it, everywhere. On the back of the Middlesbrough performance, Twitter timelines and message boards had played host to a thriving hotbed of optimism, belief and excitement throughout the week, a positivity that most strikingly had manifested itself in the form of ticket sales.

This season especially, it’s become increasingly easy for many to fall out of love with Leeds United; while even for much of our League One stint, a Leeds United detox diet seemed uncontemplatable, the last 12 months or so have changed views. Maybe on St. Patrick’s Day, it would seem somewhat appropriate to use the traditional Irish dish of Colcannon as a metaphor: at its most basic, a dish compromised of cabbage, mashed potatoes and onion, it serves the purpose to sustain but never to excite; the ultimate manifestation Leeds United's recruitment policy in food form - something to be consumed out of necessity, rather than pleasure?

But Colcannon is not an irredeemable dish; it can be revived, even transformed with a lavishing of cream, bacon and ham, indeed, I dare say with enough expenditure (and the serious dilution/removal of the cabbage content) it may even be worth consuming out of choice. Leeds fans can suddenly smell that bacon and so they return - like Lisa Riley to a family-size bag of Maltesers, they flocked back to LS11, seeking a long awaited dalliance with the good life! All supporters have wanted to see is a degree of ambition, some hope, something to cling on to, and under Warnock, those signs they’ve desperately sought are just beginning to emerge; tantalising them with a cheeky smile, a wink, maybe a flash of thigh…

The Nike relegation season shirts and the sky blue Diadora away tops were back out in force - though none sadly adorned with the immortal ‘Ricketts 9’ - always an accurate gauge of positivity amongst the fan base. Despite the forecasts, the sun was shining, while the curry sauce outside the ground had somehow achieved new levels of luminescence; inside the stadium even Ben Fry’s intolerable persona couldn’t undermine the mood.

And it was the atmosphere that will remain the most prevailing memory of the day. It’s been way too long since I last took my place in the Kop to survey the scene and barely see a vacant blue seat in view (the East Stand Upper is out of my sight) and the last time I can recall the pre-match rendition of ‘Leeds, Leeds, Leeds’ sang with such gusto was arguably at the Bristol Rovers game; the cacophony of noise in the opening 15 minutes, a welcome reminder of better days.

Almost inevitably the game rather betrayed the occasion; West Ham, despite having bought anything that breathes and commands a seven-figure fee since August, were rather less ambitious in their intentions on the pitch. Despite the resources afforded to him, Sam Allardyce doesn’t seem to favour the obvious ‘steamroller the league’ option, preferring rather to suffocate the life out of teams, before hoping to capitalise on his plethora of attacking talent at the other end – in layman’s terms, he’s got a team of big b**tards who are pretty handy from set pieces.

He’s a bit of an enigma is Big Sam, I must admit. He’s always tried to market himself as some sort of progressive visionary within the English game, even touting himself for the Real Madrid job, yet his teams play in a style more akin to an Aidy Boothroyd outfit, rather than a Pep Guardiola team. Then there’s that headset – take that f**king thing off Sam! It doesn’t so much make you look like one of your sophisticated continental cousins, more a fat middle-aged sales rep who desperately tries to impress bystanders by having loud Bluetooth-enabled conversations in the dining area of a Premier Inn, while contemplating whether his expense account might stretch to a full English breakfast.

Chances were few and far between throughout that first period, a fine Snoddy free-kick the closest Leeds came, until the rather harsh intervention of the referee denied him an injury time opener; a push by Becchio enough to cut short any celebration.

The second half was a continuation of the war of attrition. Although for spells the crowd remained quiet, it was a good silence, not one spawned of resignation or a worry where the next mistake was coming from, rather a genuine tension: that something was really riding on the game and Leeds could salvage it! Football matters, Leeds games always matter, but it’s been a while since one really mattered - a fixture forever just a moment away from lighting the blue touch paper…

As it happened, it didn’t even take a goal, just Paul Robinson. On the hour mark, our new left-back took it upon himself to embark on a lung-busting run forward, he even decreed to allow two Hammers players to posit themselves between him and the ball…nothing was going to stop him regardless, at least until the referee intervened. Promptly booked, he raced back to his position to roars of acclaim from the Geldard; moments later he launched himself into a tackle that nearly left Mark Noble in row K of the North East Corner, his actions igniting all four sides of the stadium into spine tingling verse – I remain convinced that the thunder on the way home was a by-product of that challenge! Shortly after, Michael Brown threw himself at Keith O’Neil, a mass fracas ensued, players jostled, the rage in Becchio’s face, a joy to behold – DIRTY LEEDS ARE BACK!!

That Luciano put Leeds in front was wholly apt, chasing the ball down to keep a corner alive then lunging himself at the ball as it cannoned off the bar, the manic celebrations, reminiscent of the Millwall play-off semi-final. Ending up on a different row of seats, staring at the roof of the Kop is always a good way to mark a goal.

It was a great pity that Collins should intervene at the end, and sickeningly ironic that it came from a corner conceded after a sliced George McCartney cross – he’s even f**king shit when he contributes something. I started the week believing we needed a minimum return of 6 points; I guess our slim play-off hopes might now be defined at The New Den… 

We’re ready for a battle.

Leeds United Movie Poster Mash-up #8

Some long overdue Tarantino...

#8 KILL BILLY

Any suggestions for future posters are welcome...

Middlesbrough 0 Leeds United 2

MICHAEL BROWN, WE HAIL THEE!!...

For cometh the hour of 2, our 'all action' midfielder provided the absolute highlight of the season, thus far; yes, you read that correctly, the very same ‘”too slow” and “past it” Michael Brown from days consigned to history, now every inch a magnificent phoenix, risen from the modest flames of a limp season, here to stick a shitload of petrol on the play-off bonfire!

The moment in question arrived with the game tailing off towards its inevitable conclusion; Danny Webber was played clean through down the left and as he surged onward in the direction of the goal, he looked infield for options and there he was…Michael Brown, suddenly bounding forward from inside his own half with all the energy and enthusiasm you’d expect of a child, zealously grasping at an opportunity to fulfil his dreams of glory in front of his proud parents as they scream passionate encouragement - a truly awe-inspiring spectacle.

Webber had time, he could see Brown; all he had to do was lay the ball into his path and that was it, Brown would smash it into the corner, pandemonium would ensue, it was written, the perfect finale, one of those little moments, to lock away and cherish, to dust off and re-live so as to remind yourself why you love Leeds United during the midst of a miserable humbling at the hands of Barnsley... 
                                                                                                                                
...Danny Webber, you b**tard!!! How could you misplace that pass? Consider yourself a tainted man; redemption is going to be hard earned after that!

My heart sunk for Brown as he raised in arms in despair, as over the last few weeks he’s come to epitomise Leeds United’s season under Warnock; a lifeless carcass only weeks ago, now totally re-energised. From a crunching tackle inside the second minute, Brown never relented, as did nobody else in a blue shirt – notwithstanding the anti-climax, it was great day, finally!!

Middlesbrough

Typically, the words ‘Middlesbrough’ and ‘great day’ are not too often muttered in conjunction with each other. In truth, even with the sun shining, presenting the town in its best light, the utter bleakness of the area is inescapable. The first signs of proximity to Middlesbrough were provided by the belching cloud of fumes visible from the A19, about 8 miles away from the ground.

Ellesmere Port

In this case, first impressions don’t mislead; the approach to the stadium dominated by a skyline of cooling towers and chemical plants, a grim panorama guaranteed to undermine any notions of civic pride, but lacking the Blade Runner-esque dystopian future world aura of Ellesmere Port. It appears that Middlesbrough even manages to be nondescript in its awfulness.

As Morrissey sang…

This is the coastal town,

That they forgot to close down,

Come Armageddon, come Armageddon, come…

The Riverside Stadium itself is probably one of the newest things in Middlesbrough; unremarkable in any way itself, yet in the context of its immediate surroundings it shines, like a diamond in a dog turd; the stadium’s gleaming white paint and its red seats in the stands, locking out the morbid horror of the chemical works that flank the approach. It is a baffling place to build a stadium; one of the few venues that attract outsiders to the town and the planners stick it there; as a tourism marketing ploy, it's comparable with opening up a vegan superstore opposite an abattoir.

Thankfully, the dubious pleasures of the outside world were cast to one side once the game got underway. Leeds starting strongly, with Brown’s thundering challenge, setting the tone; like Southampton previously, the opposition were not given a moment to settle. Whereas a few weeks ago, supporters were shouting themselves hoarse, demanding “someone f**king shut him down”, now we often had three or even four players hunting down the man in possession. On the ball the team looked very effective, the passing was good, slick and accurate, and seldom were Leeds hesitant in getting the ball forward quickly; not the aimless hoofs evident at the KC Stadium, but quick incisive passes.

By the time the opening goal arrived, there was an inevitability about it, Aidy White making up for not connecting his head with an earlier McCormack cross by looking up and laying the ball off to Snoddy to stroke the ball under the Jason Steele from 15 yards. Within 10 minutes the advantaged was doubled, Becchio finishing off a series of one-twos with McCormack (an honourable mention should also be given to Justin Hoyte) by slotting into an empty goal.

In truth, after that, Leeds never looked like surrendering the advantage. The only real moment of concern in the first half was a dangerous inswinging corner that Paul Robinson dealt with, his stooping header, diverting it from its goalward path. It formed part of a very sound debut by Robinson; I have the feeling he’s a player whose philosophy the fans will quickly warm to: if there’s a ball to be won he’ll win it, if there’s a man to be completely wiped out in the process, then that’s a just a bonus!

The second half was a similarly comfortable experience, an injury time fumble by Lonergan the closest the home side came; Barry Robson's late red card reflecting the frustration amongst the home support. In contrast Leeds remained a constant threat breaking forward, only poor decision making at times denying us a larger winning margin. Throughout the half, McCormack was a joy to watch, his movement and ability to turn defenders inside out a promising sign with the run in upon us. 

In a matter of weeks, Warnock appears to be achieving the inconceivable; Brown heralded from all quarters, Darren O’Dea’s name bellowed out in tribute, Becchio winning headers…I even went 90 minutes without swearing at Paul Connolly. As the game drew towards its conclusion, he just stood confidently in the technical, arms behind his back, while his opposite number, Tony Mowbray desperately tried to organise his side; the vociferous tribute from the stands, an affirmation of his day’s work.

Make no mistake, Warnock is on the right path and he knows it. He’s also excited by it; the final whistle celebrations were crowned by his shaken fist salute towards the travelling faithful. Only one question remains; can he achieve the improbable this season, or will we have to wait until next? Experience dictates that Leeds fans would do well to  err on the side of pessimism, but after listening to an excitable and loquacious Warnock share his post-match thoughts, nagging pangs of optimism are just starting to hit home.

Middlesbrough: Do or die…but not the end of the world

This Sunday’s clash with Middlesbrough marks something of a deviation from the norm; traditionally, fixtures at The Riverside Stadium have always appeared to have mattered more to home supporters than those in the away end. Of course in the realms modern day football, where anything other than a win can spark recriminations and a talks of a crisis amongst fans, that’s not to say Leeds fans have ever made the trip north looking for anything but a 3 point return, it’s more a reflection how clashes with the Smoggies are regarded by the opposing fan bases.

While – especially in the absence of any North East opposition at Championship level – home supporters accord Leeds with the status of traditional (and strongly disliked) ‘local’ rivals; Boro in contrast are more commonly regarded by Whites as just another side,  another fan base with a dislike of our club – when more than just a handful of away trips every season can offer very similar experiences, it’s hard to afford any particular opposition extra credence; recent experiences with Hull, Barnsley and Huddersfield always provoke the same feelings of indifference.

This time it is different though, it’s different because what happens on the pitch really matters; make no mistake, Sunday’s game represents the pivotal moment in Leeds United’s season; where victory could potentially spark a momentous play-off push and anything else, a pragmatic spell of experimentation as Warnock prepares for an August promotion assault. Some have already written off ambitions of challenging for the play-offs, I prefer to focus on the possibilities our next two games offer; a clean sheet and a win on Sunday will be enough for some to keep the faith, if that’s followed by victory in front of a buzzing Elland Road against West Ham (a team Leeds traditionally fare very well against), then anything’s still possible.

I’m personally backing Leeds to snatch the much needed victory; we remain unbeaten at The Riverside in our nine meetings there and have won the last couple, so my thoughts are based on a mixture of confidence, history and some overdue luck in front of goal. But, even if the side do fail to oblige and we find ourselves resigned to another season in the Championship with the best part of two months of the season still remaining, I shall still be walking always from The Riverside in a far more positive mind set than I had just three weeks previously.

Now seems a very appropriate time to assess the initial impact that Neil Warnock’s made at the club, especially, as has just been inferred, with a ‘make or break’ fixture on the horizon, it’s important to establish a sense of perspective should the result disappoint; secondly, having essentially managed the team for 3½ games – I’m taking the liberty of regarding his half-time involvement as the start point of his reign – there exists the perfect opportunity to compare his impact with that of Neil Redfearn’s caretaker stint.

To me, Warnock has completely changed the mood at Elland Road and he’s achieved this through a combination of positivity, a passion to succeed, common sense and an evident degree of self-confidence. The majority of Leeds fans welcomed the arrival of Warnock and I sense that many of the doubters have since changed their stance; from the off his enthusiasm and desire have shone through.

When the club announced his appointment, Warnock was supposed to stage his first interview on LUTV on the Sunday afternoon; yet he couldn’t help himself and was on Yorkshire Radio within half an hour of the final whistle at the Doncaster game. He revealed how he’d shelved plans to start on Monday as he didn’t want to risk wasting a game then went on to talk plainly about what he’d observed on the pitch and the changes he already had in mind – most of it was common sense and a lot of it seemed screamingly obvious, having been discussed long and hard on forums and twitter for months on end, yet the points made were they same ones that had been long overlooked by Simon Grayson. To hear those words reinforced the good feeling many already had about Warnock and immediately had others warming to him.

Since that evening, Warnock has continued to say and do all the right things. The decision to give Snodgrass the captaincy, a prime example – could anyone understand the logic of having a goalkeeper as captain; especially one who’d been dropped during his time at Preston after undergoing a crisis of confidence?

Most heartening though has been Warnock’s view on player recruitment. In his comments he’s dispelled fears that under his charge, the club are going to mainly trawl the loan market again, remarking that:

"…Before pre-season, you have to have people who care. With all respect to loan players, you can get some good ones. But when the chips are down and you have to put your head in then loan players, quite rightly, think about their own future, whereas, once you have signed on the dotted line permanently then you care that little bit more. That is what I look for…”

Moreover, he’s also made clear that he is not in his role to be another lapdog to Ken Bates:

“We have that relationship where I respect him and he respects me, and we’re both at an age where we want to do well. Make no mistake about that. I think we excite each other…I think he does a lot of good things and I’m not trying to creep round him by saying that. But there are times when you need to tell him what you think is right for the club and he’s got to listen.”

It is that final sentence that resonates more than anything else heard we’ve so far. As expected, in Warnock, Leeds has a manager who’s experienced enough and confident enough in himself to be able to stand up to our owner. While many fear fireworks, I welcome the initial noises emanating from Elland Road suggesting the chairman-manager relationship is likely to be more akin to a partnership than the typical master-servant dynamic that Bates was able to enjoy with the previous, inexperienced incumbents of the ‘hot seat’.

I believe it is this more than anything that has given supporters cause for optimism; as much as reaching the play-offs would be fantastic, the prospect of another transfer window in the summer like the last three we’ve suffered, with more free transfers, trialists and loanees… it’d be just too much for some to stomach. The same mistakes repeated again and again as a manager desperately tries to satisfy Premier League expectations with a mid-table ‘war chest’.

You suspect… no expect, a far more productive pre-season case with Warnock, not only because of his reputation, but also due to the canny game he’s played since he’s arrived. By building a gentleman’s agreement into his contract that allows him to walk at the end of the season, should things not work out, he’s essentially got Bates over a barrel. Admittedly, such an admission has also had the fan base concerned, but over the last week there’s been a change in tact; Warnock’s statements in the media have been very much been made with repeated references to next season, perhaps a sign that he now feels suitably assured about receiving suitable financial backing.

In fairness, Warncok has certainly earned the right to expect a little more boardroom ambition from the club. While his reputation alone dictates he should be entrusted with sufficient funds, his impact on the pitch resoundingly strengthens the argument. On paper, the statistics from his first three games rather undersell the impact he’s made: one defeat, two draws and no goals: proof positive that you can prove anything with numbers. On the pitch there has been a marked improvement; the transformation of the defence has been quite remarkable, a backline that could’ve shipped 5 or 6 against Doncaster, infiltrated only once in 270 minutes. Bearing in mind that – Lees apart – the personnel involved have been those found regularly culpable throughout the season, and in Connolly, include Warnock’s third choice option (after Bruce and Bromby) at right back, such a turnaround is testament to both the work of the coaching staff and the response of the players. The addition of Paul Robinson can only help further, providing an aggression and vocal presence that’s been sorely lacking at the back for an age.

In addition, after an almost interminable period in the doldrums, Warnock has also completely re-invigorated Luciano Becchio; after months of sulking and falling over, the Argentine is back towards his best form where he’s dominating defenders and running himself into the ground. Then there’s Michael Brown; undoubtedly a player possessing a great pedigree, but in the eyes of many, another in the long line of players at Elland Road for a final pay day…until Warnock arrived. Known inside out by his boss from his Sheffield United days, Brown suddenly looks more than capable of doing the job Grayson bought him for; the yard of pace that’d looked to have deserted him is back, the crunching tackles suddenly perfectly timed rather than representing a booking waiting to happen.

Yes, things are a long way from being perfect. The lack of goals being the last thing you might expect from a Leeds United team, though a sense of perspective is needed in this regard. While at Portsmouth and Hull, the side didn’t create a plethora of chances, there was certainly enough clear cut openings on the south coast to ensure victory on another day, and on Tuesday, it would be remiss to not acknowledge that the home side’s clean sheet was their sixth in seven games. In between there was the Southampton game – I’m sure not many would criticise our attacking play that evening.

That’s not to say the lack of goals should be totally dismissed; the forward line on Tuesday was undoubtedly a long way off resembling a cohesive unit and you sense a lot more work on the training ground – and arguably the substitution of one striker with another midfielder or specialist wide player – is required over the coming weeks.

However, to rob a cliché, all successful sides are built from the back, and although Leeds haven’t scored since Warnock officially took over reins, it’s not inconceivable that we could’ve quite easily found ourselves with 7 points from 3 games, rather than just a couple.

Only three weeks have passed since his arrival at the club and Neil Warnock has already taken a group of players that have sleepwalked through most of the season and restored a passion, belief and desire into the team. Even in defeat, the Southampton game is arguably the most positive Elland Road experience that many supporters have enjoyed in months, certainly the buzz after the game and the atmosphere throughout suggested so – Leeds fans respond above anything else to effort, and finally it was back and there for all to see. What’s more, these same players, guilty of having made error upon error defensively, have suddenly been fashioned them into a solid, organised and hard to beat unit.

I’m not expecting Sunday to be a purist’s wet dream, nor indeed a faultless showing, and that goes for the remainder of the season. Indeed, I’m sure ‘solid but unspectacular’ will be the mantra for the coming months, but, if the progress on the pitch continues and the hint of a sea change at board level manifests itself into something concrete over the summer, then this new found positivity amongst supporters will flourish… so even if that crucial victory does evade Leeds at the weekend, there are still finally reasons to be cheerful.

Leeds United Movie Poster Mash-up #7

In tribute to those who made Nick Barmby and Carlton Palmer look like sound investments...

#7 - SUPERBAD                                                                                                            

#8 Coming soon...

Any suggestions for future productions welcome; please contact me via my twitter account.

Hull City 0 Leeds United 0

This is it. This is why we all do it. Why we follow Leeds United. It’s for nights like this.

Exciting European jaunts to capitals of culture like Barcelona, Madrid, Milan and Rome may be the source of great memories, but they don’t validate a supporter’s commitment to the cause in the way that a trip to Hull does. Never mind your Elland Road membership and loyalty schemes; those Whites who venture into Hull and successfully come out the other side should immediately be afforded the highest possible degree of reverence and a badge of honour (and maybe some health checks) as life doesn’t get grimmer.

Hull is an almost unimaginably bleak place; a decaying urban sprawl, riddled with unemployment, teenage pregnancies, heroin addiction, crime and violence; in the air an unmistakable, putrid stench – a cocktail of raw fish, decay and family incest. It’s not so much a place that time forgot, rather somewhere time took one look at and thought “F**k me! Forget it…” before secreting it out of the mischievous gaze of progress. Apparently in recent times, attempts have been made to transform the city; “an extensive programme of economic reconstruction and urban renewal” was undertaken. Sadly the 2008 economic crisis hit the programme, though remnants of its achievements do remain, including a couple of partially glazed bus stops by the City Hall and an Aldi ‘8 till late local’ store in the cultural quarter.

It is not by chance that Hull became the inaugural winner of the Idler ‘Crap Towns’ prize; the place is essentially an amalgamation of everything that makes Huddersfield and Barnsley godforsaken shit holes, with dead fish thrown in on top. Not that the locals think so; happily living in their backwards enclave, they regard all ‘oustiders’ with suspicion and spend their days talking in hushed tones about a magical monochrome rainbow lying on the outskirts of their territory that is believed to lead to magical lands and untold riches – that’s the M62 to you and me.

Still, this a place where Dean Windass is regarded as a deity, rather than a damning indictment of a failing educational system and where Jimmy Bullard was a pin up… so maybe ignorance is bliss!

Arriving early in the city, we took the opportunity to sample the local delicacies and called in at a nearby chippy; the produce itself was gargantuan in scale; the price list clearly stated haddock, though after cutting through a cross section, my geological instincts immediately dated the fish back to the Triassic period – still, it was pretty good!

Then on to the ground; surprisingly for something based in Hull, the KFC Stadium is actually one of the less offensive breed of contemporary stadia, being at least a little less uniform in appearance than horrendous bowls like those in Leicester, Middlesbrough and the like. Still, that’s not accounting for the clientele it attracts - It must be bloody horrible existence for Hull supporters; so depressed are they by their long standing traditional rivalries with clubs like Scunthorpe and Grimsby, and so keen are they to try and validate claims of being a big club, that they’ve desperately tried to concoct something with us…well as the chant goes, “We’re Leeds United, we don’t give a f**k!” – deal with it and f**k off!!

Pre-match was a fairly sedate affair, the first showing of any intent from the Leeds end being the first delightful riposte of “Tigers! Tigers! Rah! Rah! Rah!” in the face local abuse. The pre-match airing of a new wave ‘tin pot anthem™’, Elvis’ ‘Can’t Help Falling in Love’, provided a further welcome opportunity for mockery. Oh and one other point of note: why do Hull appear to have a mascot who dresses as a cigarette tab end?

From an early stage it was pretty apparent that Leeds were not going to scale the heights of the weekend. For most of the first half, the home side dictated play and in one particularly troublesome 15 minute spell were creating chances at will. The formation, exciting days earlier, was suddenly baffling in a game where all Leeds’ previous weaknesses emerged as strengths and vice-versa. Lonergan had to be alert from the early stages and pulled off a number of excellent saves; Lees and O’Dea were every bit as solid as could be expected, Brown (again) stood out, as did Becchio. Suddenly the team had a spine, the problems were everywhere else.

Having four forwards on the pitch from the off was always a cause for concern and became even more so as they all wanted to play centrally. Warnock frantically barked instructions and McCormack, Webber and Snoddy held repeated conferences on the pitch to address the situation, but it was never really resolved. By the end of the half, a frustrated Becchio resorted to persistent fouling, at one stage attempting broaden the width of Jack Hobb’s philtrum via an non-invasive surgical procedure, courtesy of his left boot.

That said, Hull were hardly shy on the tackling front; Stuart Atwell perhaps reluctant to wave yellow cards as he thought all breeds of tiger were endangered species. It didn’t stop the dirty twats trying to bring about the premature extinction of the species Michaelus Brownius though. The locals in the South Stand roared their approval. It wasn’t a pretty sight; an isotropic vista of slack-jawed meat heads - many of whom had brought their husbands along in tow – grunting like the enemy front line at Helm’s Deep.

Half-time came as a relief and an opportunity to reorganise. However, the team re-emerged for the kick-off still lining up in the Warnock patented ‘4-2-FFS!’ formation; it was worry, though as the second half passed by, it was evident that the players were getting to grips with it. Other than that, there wasn’t too much to say about the second half; Leeds had plenty of the ball, but repeatedly wasted good crossing opportunities, while Clayton and Snoddy were consistently wasteful or hesitant when something rather more decisive was required – JUST HIT THE F**KING THING!!!

Width continued to be a problem, something which the introduction of Lloyd Sam did little to alleviate – seriously, what is the point in this ‘footballer’? A fella a couple of rows in front me, a fair haired Jonny Vegas type, bawled out the insult: “Sam, I can f**king move quicker than you!!” – I was inclined to believe him.  

When the full-time whistle arrived, it felt as much an act of mercy as another nail in the play-off coffin; still, we always win at Middlesbrough, don’t we?

Southampton: When a defeat feels like a victory

I wouldn’t consider myself as one of life’s great narcissists by any stretch of the imagination, but like most people, I am prone to the odd bout of inner smugness, and at the moment I’m happily dining out on a small banquet of self-congratulation in the depths of my subconscious. “What’s that waiter? Oh, the bill? Stick it on Mr Warnock’s tab, and include a little something for yourself.”

While I’m a guilty as any Leeds fan of periodically identifying apostles of false promise (Mike Grella, anyone?); I’ve not let a patchy track record to deter my absolute conviction that Warnock is the right man at the right time for Leeds United. Two weeks into his reign and I find myself tiptoeing on the fringes of insufferable git territory, rather than being a misguided bell end (again).

Yesterday’s performance against Southampton delivered everything I had expected from a Neil Warnock team – and a little more, if I’m completely honest – I was looking for an organised back four, a discernible pattern of play with clearly defined roles for those involved, and above anything else, a huge injection of passion and commitment.

As it happened, I witnessed 90 minutes of football from a team that was barely recognisable from the abject collection of individuals who trooped off the pitch at the Ricoh Arena, little over a fortnight ago. Michael Brown and then Aidy White set down early markers for the levels of effort expected, both sprinting back to hurl themselves into challenges in the opening exchanges – for a Leeds supporters, such moments should be the norm, but have been so rare in the last 12 months, that they alone were enough to fire up the sparse crowd out of what seems to have been never-ending comatose state.

The early tempo never relented throughout; Brown suddenly looking like the inspiring ‘old head’ he’d been heralded as, rather than another has been, sleepwalking through his final pay day, Clayton after months of treading water, reminding us that his displays in August and September were something we excitedly witnessed, rather than some fantastical vision lodged in our collective subconscious, and then there was Luciano…after months of sulking, he’s finally foregone his fetish for grass munching and remembered what, when he puts his mind to it, he’s bloody good at – playing the target man.

Where the team did exceed expectations was in just how cohesive and organised a unit they appeared. The transformation after only two weeks on the training ground (compromised by the international break) was startling. While by Adkin’s own admission, Southampton were a long way short of their best, there was a lot to admire in the defensive display, especially considering that due to Bromby’s injury, an early rejig was required for the second consecutive Saturday.

More impressive still was the midfield area, where in addition to Brown and Clayton’s partnership, both White and McCormack acquitted themselves well within the new system. Encouragingly, as the second half progressed, the individuals involved also adapted very well to the changes in personnel; the introduction of Webber and Sam would’ve been as likely to spark confusion as momentum a couple of weeks ago, yesterday the players adapted seamlessly, Snodgrass completing his day in the centre of midfield.

The performance of Webber himself was an unexpected bonus, certainly appearing sharper than we might’ve had reason to expect. With Becchio finally back as the fulcrum of most attacks and rejuvenated by the prospect, there are now at least elements of what fired the Whites to a top 2 position 14 months ago re-emerging… although sadly, it was also a reminder of what the team is missing.

There is no doubt that if Leeds were to perform to such a level, week in, week out, the current squad could make a very credible play-offs push over the course of a season; while I’d suggest there are at least half a dozen stronger sides in the Championship, there is always scope for a well organised, hardworking outfit to sneak a top 6 finish.

However, the club don’t have a full season to play with, only 12 games, and they don’t just have to compete with better teams, they have to outperform all of them – many by a significant degree! From those remaining games, realistically 9 wins are probably needed to secure a play-off berth and many of those fixtures are against the Championship’s stronger sides. If there’s one thing the game illustrated it’s that while commitment and organisation can take you a long way, there are other crucial factors: luck (which you can do little about) and quality that invariably come into play. In situations such as Leeds’ a combination of all four are needed, in abundance.

Southampton are a case in point; they have excellent players in all areas, including the bench – Billy Sharp or Billy Paynter? – and on the basis of the opening day drubbing at St. Mary’s they remain the best footballing side I’ve seen in the division. Today they didn’t show up, but the those assets essential in any successful side remained evident: they defended like their lives depended on it, they enjoyed the luck, and when the opportunity presented itself, they had in Rickie Lambert, the quality to ensure that they capitalised on it.

While nothing can be taken away from Kelvin Davis’ sensational performance, it’s still a concern that on a day when the side couldn’t have possibly given more, Leeds despite coming up against a top side having an ‘off day’ were still unable to score. Yes, luck deserted us, but there were times when, as Warnock alluded, only poor finishing could be blamed. In the closing stages as more and more men were committed further forward, we also found ourselves relying on Connolly and Pugh to deliver from wide positions only to be repeatedly disappointed, and unsurprised, in equal measure. Would Southampton have been so profligate?

At the back too, as churlish as it seems to criticise, both Bromby and especially O’Dea lost concentration and their man on the one occasion they were most needed. While every defender is prone to such lapses, the best are rarely culpable, too many Leeds defenders are regularly found out.

Warnock couldn’t have done more inside 14 days to deliver his side of the bargain and the players couldn’t have responded more admirably. The ovation afforded both at half-time and the final whistle a deserved and striking reflection of the supporters’ recognition of the fact. It’s not often that such a large proportion of the crowd have left Elland Road buzzing on the back of a defeat, but for the first time in a long time, it felt like we were watching a Leeds United side. Warnock’s post-match comments that such a performance represented the least expected, music to the ears.

I can only wish Southampton the best; I hope they do go up – while Nigel Adkin’s men essentially mugged Leeds today, and while their usual classy, flowing brand of football was scarcely evident, their grit and spirit, if nothing else, was to be admired. They also exemplify the fundamental importance of backing the manager to bring in good quality players and build a squad.

I’ve not given up on the play-offs just yet, nor I’m sure – despite his protestations – has Neil Warnock. With the current side though, even if they continue to run through brick walls, I fear we’re going to inevitably come up short. So many games in a division so competitive are decided by the finest of margins, often luck, but also regularly by individual moments of brilliance, whether in the form of a goal preventing tackle, a goal creating assist or a goal scoring finish. Does Leeds United possess individuals capable of such acts? Yes. Do we possess enough of them? I don’t think so, nor evidently does Warnock.

A fortnight into Warnock’s reign and so many things have already changed for the better and the positivity on the terraces stands in stark contrast to the atmosphere that prevailed only 2 home games previously. The one area that has thus far remained a depressing constant has been the failure of the club to attract – the unattached Danny Webber, aside – any of the new manager’s transfer targets. Listening to Warnock’s guarded comments about his long term future, you rather suspect he remains as sceptical about Bates and Harvey as the supporters.

Yet again it’s over to the owner and his lap dog. Just for once, don’t let everyone down, eh?