Carlisle United 0 Leeds United AFC 2

[battylad]

Division Three Play Off: Semi Final - Second Leg.

Leeds United AFC Win 3-2 on Aggregate

It's hard to imagine now, but it was it was around this time in 2001 that we were stood on a beach in Valencia, bathing in the warm sunshine and dreaming of glory. It had all gone so well, even the fight to get away from the missus was won with consummate ease, even though it meant leaving her to attend our first anti natal class alone. The locals were warm and friendly and the old town was stunning, as was the sight of hoards of the White army everywhere you looked. Our route to the Estadio Mestalla was pleasant and hopes of a Champions League final were in the air. This despite learning the day before that Lee Bowyer had been banned from the game due to an off the ball incident caught by the TV cameras. As match time approached, the 3,000 strong Whites gathered in the top tier looking out at what lay before them. The Leeds team, who had shaved their heads in a show of unity, had done us proud to even reach this point. The teams were greeted by a tremendous noise from both sets of fans and the game past by in a blur. After we were left reeling by yet another injustice as Sanchez used his arm "Raul like" to score the opener, from there on in, no matter how loud we sang, Valencia put on a master class. In the middle of it all, conducting as if in charge of an orchestra was the unbelievable Mendieta...

The game wore on and we tried to find a foot hold and though Batty and Dacourt were trying to galvanise the team, too many players had disappeared. We were grateful to be clinging on at halftime however it was soon all over. Just after the re: start, 2 goals in 10 minutes from Sanchez and Mendieta had 50,000 Valencia fans in great voice and left us realising the gulf between the sides was not limited to the volume in the ground or the use of arm to score goals. The football poetry that followed was a piss take and we prayed to the gods to go out with dignity and leave the score at 3. We almost managed that feat, but in the dying seconds, Smith's stupid challenge earned him a deserved Red as heads went down. Heartbroken we watched the home fans party and got our chins up to give the Leeds team the praise they deserved. It was the end of the dream, we had floated through Europe with the grace of a hot air balloon with no quarter asked nor given. The European nights were special, no matter how the passing of time and the revelations that followed have soured our feelings and opinions. Memories are now all that linger, nights of wonder, nights of amazement, nights of Passion, Pride, Commitment and Desire...

It was the latter traits we were hoping for tonight as we got to grips with the reality of the current situation. After the initial warmth of the last gasp Freedman goal, the cold reality of what lay ahead struck over the next couple of days. We looked for Omens in the other Play Off games, firstly, Palace away at Bristol. Palace played superbly, scored early, but could not turn the deficit from the first leg around. Watford next at Hull, trailing 0-2 they too took an early lead and still succumbed as Hull ran riot and progressed. During the day tiny barbs from those around were met with a defiant face. These were the same people who laughed in your face when you arrived at work on the back of a 1-2 home defeat just a few days earlier. The same people who never reach further than a remote control for their football and the same people who never seem to follow a beaten team. The trip to the ground was quiet, bathed in sunshine as memories of the trip to "Job Done" Preston flooded the mind and triggered tiny sparks of hope. Inside the ground, the 1,600 White army assembled, stunned at what lay before us. Far from a packed house, the amount of empty seats and empty terraces that lay in front of us was a disgrace and must have made grim viewing for the unlucky ticketless whites...

We began as we meant to go on, if we were going to go down then the White army would go down singing to the end and despite no roof on the stand, we created a defiant atmosphere. McAllister gambled on team selection, frankly he could have changed up to 6 players after Monday night, however, much to the surprise of the fans he kept the faith. So with Casper in goal, the back four of Lubo, Fraser, Huntingdon and Johnson remained. As did the midfield of Kilkenny, Howson, Douglas and Prutton. Beckford and Freedman again up top. It looked like Dougie won the toss and we turned the teams around, so the lads were playing towards us in the first half. Just as in the first leg however, it was Carlisle who settled the quicker as they again used the wide men to cause us problems. The first real chance fell to Grant Smith, but his effort flew over. What was noticeable in the early exchanges was Carlisle's decision to attack Fraser as if he was the weak link. It's perhaps fair to say that Fraser has had a mixed season, however, Carlisle were about to be shown the side to Fraser we would like to see more of. Going forward, Beckford had a half chance, but it was 10 minutes in and our first real attack that gave the travelling army hope and notched us up a few more gears...

A clearance from Casper was headed on from the left by Prutton, Beckford reacted quickest and flicked a header on to Howson who instinctively sprayed the ball out left to Freedman. Freedman dinked it back into the box to Howson who found time and space to control the ball and lash home with his left foot and send us fucking ballistic. With scores level and all to play for the nature of the game changed. Still, Carlisle only needed a goal but it was looking more like we would grab the next one. Beckford guilty of wasting a great chance a few minutes later when he headed wide after a superb ball in from Johnson. The hopes in the away end were slowly growing, but every time we thought positive thoughts, the team responded by trying to make life difficult for themselves. In one breath defending superbly, but then, as we have seemed to do most of the season, pass the ball straight back to an opposition player. Fortunately, despite having the width and unlike the first leg, a combination of our determined full backs and no final ball by the home side meant they were not making us pay for our lapses. It was not all due to this however, one man was having a magnificent game in the middle of the park. Dougie who was sat just in front of the back four, was quietly and effectively mopping up as Prutton and Howson tried to find a way forward...

After wasting a couple of corners, Kilkenny tried to make up for it with a 20 yarder, but it was blocked. He then played a great ball through to Beckford, who was flagged offside. It was a good period of the game, but we feared that failure to find a second goal would be costly. When that bastard goalie Westwood denied Freedman on 38 mins we looked to the heavens and just wondered if it was going to be one of those horrid nights. Carlisle then tired to bring the game to us and had a great spell just before halftime. Our defiant back line continued to stay strong, but we were in danger of getting penned in as again we kept giving them back the ball and inviting them on. It was heart in mouth time as firstly a great ball was whipped in by Smith. Casper appeared to get something on it to divert it away from Graham, before the ball eventually fell to Dobie who twatted wide. Carlisle were to have the final say in the dying moments as Bridge - Wilkinson found himself in acres of space on the edge of the area. His low shot was well saved by Casper's legs. Halftime was a relief and we couldn't have asked for more from the boys. Well, some of us did ask for more and sub Hughes obliged by giving us a ball, however some silly twat threw it over the back of the stand leaving Hughes somewhat bemused...

Out came the boys for the second half and we again began in great voice. Freedman was first to try his luck, but his deflected shot was easy for Westwood. Beckford quickly followed that with two efforts on goal, neither really troubling the keeper. Carlisle's players had again decided to keep trying to go at Frazer and he began what was possibly his best 45 minutes of the season as he meant to go on. On the other flank, Bradley Johnson was looking composed at left back, but Carlisle were growing and beginning to cause us problems. Lubo did really well to block from Bridge-Wilkinson before Graham headed weakly into Casper's arms when he really should have done better. The best move of the game came our way however after a brilliant passing movement including Kilkenny, Richardson and Howson, the ball was fed to Prutton, but Jesus's shot was well saved by Westwood. It was a turning point in the game however as from there, Kilkenny stood up to the plate to try and get the Leeds attacks going. With Fraser overlapping quite brilliantly we had width on the right side and we utilised to good effect. Dangerous crosses were being flung into the box and it was Carlisle's turn to give away defensive possession easily and we were able to keep up sustained pressure...

Howson saw a great shot pushed away for a corner. 3 corners in quick succession later saw Johnson's brave header hit the fucking post with the keeper beaten. We stood with hearts in mouths and head in hands, was that the chance to take us to Wembley gone. Carlisle tried to rally, but although their fans were screaming they were going to Wembley, the longer the game went on, the players seemed to lose a bit of heart and run out of steam. Huntingdon was now having a great game but he managed to give away a free kick on the edge of the area. It seemed soft, but the benefit went to Ref Alan Wiley who, in my opinion, was having a faultless game. The script seemed to be written for a stunning home goal, but it was not to be. The wall stood tall and firm and away we went again, looking for something, one last effort to to finish the game in normal time. Dougie tried one from distance for yet another corner but just as so many corners over the course of the season, we failed to make anything from it. After Johnson had got forward well and fired wide, we were resigning ourselves to extra time. Given how the game was going, this was by no means a disaster, Carlisle's players looked heavy footed. As the board went up for 1 minute injury time, we stood and watched, as on halfway Dougie found Kilkenny...

Kilkenny's swift ball forward found Freedman on the edge of the area and his instinctive lay off found Howson in space. Young Howson took collected the ball, took one touch, looked up and swung his left boot at it from the edge of the area and drove a fucking beauty past the despairing Westwood for a late late winner. The away end was carnage as bodies flew everywhere in utter delight, it was a case of just grabbing hold of the person next to you to and clinging on for dear life as we were flung around like rag dolls. The celebrations were ongoing as the whistle went and we went fucking mental. With pissed off Carlisle fans on the pitch blocked by lines of Police and Stewards, the Leeds players went off. We were being held back by the Police but we sang ourselves hoarse until the pitch was cleared and out came the Macca and the boys a while later to soak up the celebrations...

So the result leaves us planning for one last trip down south to the New Wembley. Its these moments that make football so special, the feeling of a mixture of pride & delight was and is immense and not something we had often felt since that night in Preston in 2006. Preston was an amazing night, but this win was much sweeter given the position we found ourselves in after the first leg. These feelings are however tempered somewhat by the knowledge that we have still achieved nothing yet. We don't need reminding that no matter how good this night was, the experience down at Cardiff in 2006 taught us to simply savour the moment, but keep our feet firmly on the ground and not get carried away. The final chapter of this amazing season in Leeds United AFC's history is about to be written. Wembley braces itself for an invasion of around 40,000 of the proud White army as we begin the countdown to what we pray to the gods will culminate in our escape from Division Three...

Leeds United AFC... "We're the famous Leeds United and we're off to Wemberrrrllllllleeee"... Keep Fighting...