“Fame is fickle, and I know it. It has its compensations but it also has its drawbacks, and I’ve experienced them both.”
– Marilyn Monroe
Marilyn Monroe was right; one minute you’re up, the next minute – before you know it – you’re crashing down, everyone turns against you and the world can feel like a lonely place. That’s fame for you, but fame has nothing on football.
Only three days ago I posted about the Barnsley game being a benchmark of the progress we’d made since the early season, ahem, mauling at the hands of the Tykes. On a night of characteristically shoddy defending our porous defence leaked another three goals. On reflection, we can probably attribute the fact that we played a large proportion of the game without Bradley Johnson. Goodness knows, we make heavy weather of defending as it is, so being a man down, especially in what has become our “problem area” – defensive central midfield – was only likely to lead to trouble. Perhaps Saturday’s game would be a better gauge of where we’ve progressed to; a head-to-head against one of the division’s best sides would prove an accurate measure of our capabilities.
Sadly, what we saw at the Liberty Stadium was not good.… Continue Reading
Every fortnight twenty-odd thousand football managers congregate on Elland Road. Admittedly, there’s probably a fair proportion in no fit state to carry out their management “duties”, but they try nonetheless.
Of course, I’m talking about us fans.
Football is such a captivating lifetime attachment because it is entirely subjective; we each live out each moment in an entirely personal way, but as a collective mass. Leeds United bring us joy and cause us pain in ways that are different to every person; we all have our thoughts on who’s responsible for the misplaced pass. Is it because Kilkenny played it badly or is it because Becchio made the wrong run? In split seconds we each trace errors back to their root cause: players, tactics, coaching, attitude.
We each process this information and translate it into how we support the team. Who’s our favourite? Who isn’t trying hard enough? Why is it that I just cannot warm to player x? Privately we form our own conclusions and we believe them to be right: we’re all football managers.… Continue Reading
The first in an occasional series detailing things that are just plain wrong with the modern game. We start with Tom Hark.
Not a Preston North End footballer from the 1950s, but The Piranhas’ infectious ska hit from 1980. For infectious read ‘herpes’.
The song has long been the basis for many a terrace chant due to its childish, repetitive, simplistic nature. It works well. But at some point in the last few years, somebody in control of a PA system at a football ground thought that the raw, primeval passion of the crowd celebrating a goal would be enhanced by playing the recording of this irritating ditty to make the thrill all the greater.… Continue Reading
I’ve been in a reflective mood lately where Leeds United are concerned. The Arsenal matches gave us a timely reminder of where we sit in the football world; it was a glimpse at Leeds United’s place in the big picture. As such, I wrote a piece on how I was falling in love with the club again. The Premier League glamour of the Gunners disappeared, along with memories of their fancy Islington noodles, as we pitched up to the KC Stadium in Hull, and I found my romantic visions of our proud club drifting away over the chilly Humber.… Continue Reading
Wise’s team began to string wins together and an improbable, impossible promotion was on the cards. Another sucker punch was lurking though, as Gus Poyet defected to Spurs, followed back to the capital only months later by Dennis Wise himself. Bizarrely though, Wise went back to London so he could work for Newcastle United. Fans desperately hoped that this would not result in a loss of momentum, and unemployed but altogether more palatable Gary McAllister took the hot seat. … Continue Reading
It’s been easy to fall out of love with Leeds United. They have given us enough reasons.
I guess it all started when Woody was sold to Newcastle, contrary to the club’s public line about keeping the crown jewels. We can only presume at boardroom level that Woody was seen as more of a Ratner’s necklace than priceless ornament.… Continue Reading