This is Leeds United (Part 2)

(Continued from Part 1)


“The boys from the Don Revie era are deities too. I’ll tell you this for nothing: Eddie Gray needs a statue, if not two. The club would have named their training ground after Bielsa had the Argentinian not blanked the offer from them to do so. His squad had the passion Leeds die for: innovative and brave in their style of play, capable of Premier League promotion after 16 hard years in the EFL, dedicated and ambitious in raising their individual ceilings. Pablo Hernandez had his best displays in his twilight years. I’m taking that goal at Swansea City with me. Bielsa made giants out of men, a confirmed alchemist. There have been better Leeds teams over the years, no doubt, but I wonder if any generated so much romance.


Bielsa took Leeds back to the Premier League at last in 2020 as EFL champions. Most of the Bielsa era broke an established truth about Leeds: that they are condemned to live on the brink of crisis. The supporters seem to view their club in two ways. Firstly, to envisage their vast potential being realised. But secondly, to assume that something, or someone, will inevitably appear to stop that happening.

If unwanted records are there to be broken — the most play-off final defeats in history, for instance — Leeds will break them. They might look from the outside like a fanbase resistant to all criticism of their club but get on the inside and there cannot be a crowd who are more self-deprecating or better at gallows humour. Unveil a terrible club crest and they’ll consign it to the shredder in a matter of hours. Bluff, and they’ll call it. Tell them Red Bull won’t ever be buying their club and they’ll hold you to that promise, ruthlessly.

Transfer-wise, no amount of news is too much for them on Twitter. In addition, Leeds’ army on there will regularly ask you to get amorous with them (have I mentioned I’m 43 but look 60?). Or to post pictures of your wife. Or roundly tell you to go forth and multiply. It’s all good fun and joking aside, the crowd have been very good to me over the years — a Buckfast-toting, Trainspotting-GIF-posting Scot who had no affiliation with Leeds whatsoever before I first wrote about them. File this in the category of life experiences I didn’t foresee.

I’d be tempted to call them my second club if I didn’t know that Leeds aren’t remotely interested in being anyone’s second club — less still being popular with neutrals. The image that sticks in my head is of the city’s long-since deceased International Pool swimming centre, a building which had ‘Welcome to Leeds’ daubed on one end of it. Years later, someone used spray paint to add ‘Now F**k Off. Thank You’ (without the asterisks), which is basically it, in a nutshell.

The club will be different if and when Elland Road gets its upgrade; that’s not to say better or worse, but definitely different. No ground, so raw and battle-scarred, has ever suited a team more.

One final thing I’ve learned: I’ve never been much of a lucky charm for Leeds.

My first competitive game writing about them, in 2006, was a Championship play-off final defeat. My last competitive game writing about them, 17 days ago, was a Championship play-off final defeat. When I left the Yorkshire Evening Post for The Athletic in 2019, I promised that promotion would inevitably follow, which it did. So me standing aside means the title next season. Take that to the bank.

On my way out of the YEP, as it’s known, I wrote something which has followed me around since: “An astonishing number of people despise Leeds United, or what Leeds United stand for. But this club was never made for them."

I think that holds true, even if the reasons are slightly intangible. Those who follow Leeds would probably sum it up like this: if you know, you know. And if you don’t get it, you don’t matter.

Stick to that mantra. And keep living the dream."

……….

Well said Phil.