Amazingly, for those of us who remember the breaking of the news so well, it’s a quarter of a century today since Leeds United made the historic signing of Gordon Strachan from a minor club over the Pennines. Over the next seven seasons as the Whites skipper, there were many, many memorable occasions for United’s second-most famous ginger Scottish captain. Not least among these, of course, was hoisting the last ever Football League Championship Trophy, as well as scoring the first goal in the Stuttgart play-off at the Nou Camp in 1992.
But, as I’ve done before, I thought I’d look back to the famous Leicester City game in 1990 and what was probably Strachan’s defining moment as the man who did more than just about anyone to reinvent Leeds as a post-Revie force in English football. It had been a long time coming since Don’s Glory Boys dispersed to pastures new and a Golden Era faded into the dim haze of memory. We had been eight years in the second division doldrums and had almost forgotten what it was like to be a top team. But – finally! – it looked as though the nightmare was ending as Sergeant Wilko and Captain Strachan were set to lead United back to the Promised Land at long last. A home fixture against Leicester City was the penultimate hurdle to overcome, and expectations were soaring at Elland Road.
Twelve days before the Leicester game, United had appeared to strike a decisive blow, battering closest rivals Sheffield United 4-0 at Elland Road. But any hope that promotion could be clinched early was dashed over the next two fixtures, a draw at Brighton where the lead was squandered to sacrifice two points, and then a home defeat to a relegation-threatened Barnsley who even then had the ability to put one over on us with an inferior team. So the nerves were jangling for this home date with the Foxes.
Leicester breezed into town with no pressure on them at all as they bobbed about serenely in mid-table, but Leeds just had to win. A victory could possibly clinch promotion; anything else and we would be relying on others to give us that final leg-up – not an attractive prospect. The atmosphere at Elland Road that day was something to behold as 32,597 packed the stands and terraces, the Kop a seething mass of bodies, a solid wall of sound. If the weight of support counted for anything, then it seemed Leicester might just as well turn around and go home – but to their eternal credit they fought the good fight and played their part in a memorable afternoon.
It all started well. Leeds pressed hard, this had been their preferred approach all season long. No opponent was allowed the luxury of untroubled possession as Leeds snapped at ankles and harried the enemy, hungry for the ball and well able to use it productively. At their best, United had proved a match for any team in the Division; as ever though it was the off days that had let us down. On this particular occasion, attacking the Kop End in the first half, the forward momentum seemed irresistible. Before long, the overlapping Mel Sterland fastened on to a ball at the right corner of the penalty area and fired low and hard into the net to open the scoring. The overwhelming relief was as evident as the unconfined joy around the packed stadium; surely now United would go on to consolidate their advantage and seal the promotion we’d wanted for so long.
It was not to be. Despite further pressure, Leeds failed to make another breakthrough before half-time and Leicester – relaxed and pressure-free – were looking more and more ominously like potential party-poopers. These fears solidified in the second half as the away side pressed an increasingly nervous Leeds back, and eventually – inevitably – they drew level. The blow when it came was struck by a rumoured transfer target for Leeds, promising young Scot Gary McAllister. He proved that he packed some punch by belting a fine strike past veteran Mervyn Day to shock the Kop rigid and momentarily silence Elland Road. Worse was so nearly to follow as McAllister almost did it again, another superb shot coming within an ace of giving Leicester the lead, something which would doubtless have produced the unedifying spectacle of grown men crying in their thousands. It may well be that McAllister sealed his move to Leeds with this performance and those two efforts, but I could have seen him far enough from LS11 that day. Leeds were rocking, looking at each other, scratching heads and clenching fists in the time-honoured “come on, let’s bloody sort this out” gesture. Slowly, by sheer force of will, the lads in White regained the initiative and it looked at least as though the danger of further damage was receding. The football was still nerve-shredding stuff, all urgency and little fluency, a desperate battle to eke out the extra two points that would make promotion so much more likely.
Time was ebbing away fast now, as Leeds hurled themselves time and again into the defensive barrier of red Leicester away shirts. Panic was setting in, the biggest enemy of constructive football. It was looking like a draw, which would not be enough. Then, a throw halfway inside the Leicester half in front of the West Stand, under the eyes of a bleakly worried Wilko. Sterland gathered himself and hurled a massively long throw deep into the away penalty area, only for it to be headed out from around the near post. McAllister attempted to complete the clearance with an overhead effort to get rid, but the ball hit Gordon Strachan to bounce back into the box. And there was Gary Speed to lay that ball back instantly to the still-lurking Strachan who simply lashed it, left-footed, into the net. The ball had gone in like a bullet; Strachan – too tired to control it and try to work a yard of space to dink one of those cute little far-post crosses as he might normally – settled instead for catching the ball right on the sweet spot and it arrowed home to a positive explosion of noise from all around Elland Road – the sudden release of what had been unbearable tension produced a massive roar to buffet the ear drums of innocent bystanders miles away.
It was one of those occasions when several things seem to happen at once. The crowd behind the goal at the South Stand end seemed to boil with passion and relief, a maelstrom of delighted celebration which was echoed across the whole stadium. Strachan himself ran to the byline, face contorted, weary limbs pumping in triumphant exultation as he took the plaudits of the faithful. A lone copper is visible on the TV footage between Strach and the cavorting hordes, a grin on his face as he moves to quell any ambitious pitch-invaders. In the commentary box, John Helm unwittingly propelled himself into immortality, not for the last time that afternoon. “Have you ever seen a better goal?” he demanded. “And have you ever seen one better timed?” It was a good question, and right then, right there, I doubt you’d have found a Leeds fan to answer “yes” to either part of it. The rest was a blur; Leeds held out, and we had won – and seemingly gained promotion. Rumours were flying around that Newcastle had failed to win, sending us up. But John Helm was at it again, more iconic words: “Is that confirmed…?” When the confirmation arrived, it was of a late Toon win; we still had it all to do at Bournemouth the following week. But Strachan’s late cracker had kept us in a race that we were ultimately destined to win.
My final memory of that day is of walking down off the Kop and onto the pitch as the masses there were starting to disperse. We crossed the sacred turf from goal-line to goal-line, eventually exiting the ground into Elland Road at the south-west corner, where the Jumbotron big screen now stands. I can still remember the heady scent of stud-holed mud and trodden turf, my head was still buzzing as I walked over the spot where wee Gordon had made that perfect half-volley contact to send us all into delirium. It had been an atmosphere the like of which I have rarely seen before or since, only the mayhem at Bramall Lane when Gayle scored that own-goal title-clincher coming anywhere near, or maybe that ankle-busting semi-riot of a celebration when Dave Batty broke his long goal drought against Man City in 1991.
For the sheer relief of it however – the absolute nerve-shredding, tension-breaking release of it – this was definitely THE one. Without Strachan’s sublime strike, we could well have missed out on automatic promotion, and we all know only too well that there’s a law against us succeeding in the play-offs. Gordon’s Golden Goal had kept the dream alive and made possible all that followed up to the League Championship triumph two years later. Make no mistake – it was THAT important. Thank you, wee man – 25 years on, Leeds United have yet to make another signing so vital and important in the history of a great club. Chances are, they never will.
I remember the game well and, as you say, the atmosphere was something special, even for ‘The Arena of Legends’. Strachan was a great signing, another little midfield general following the immortal Bobby Collins and John(ny) Giles. And, of course, Gary McAllister was signed shortly afterwards, to form that great midfield quartet of Batty, Strachan, McAllister and Speed. Happy Days !
Thank you for a great memory awakening ‘ Brilliant Post’ goose bumps
Beautifully, emotively written and remembered Rob. Brought genuine tears to my eyes. Ta!
I remember being stood in the lowfields one afternoon , strachan had just been signed , I expected another dull afternoon and then suddenly a football genius apeared , he was playing balls into space and expecting everyone around him to understand where the space they should be running into , of course most on the pitch that day didn’t understand and he let them know in no uncertain terms , I remember walking back down elland rd knowing 100% why wilko had brought him to Leeds , after years ( with the odd exception) of dire football and footballers at Leeds we finally had a leader , the rest would surely follow , and as we all know it did rob ,, oh for a strach these days
Thanks for keeping the dream alive Leeds Till We Die
My favourite Leeds goal of all-time, still get goose-bumps to this day!
Superbly written Rob, I wonder how many fellow sufferers remember the importance of that game, and how important the copper topped, banana munching genius was to us, it actually feels right to celebrate him, cant think of many ex scum players who played at ER who made such an impact,and who deserves our gratitude and respect to his level.
Brilliant writing Rob, was at that game vs Leicester and was at the Blades away when we went on to win league thanks to a Liverpool win against the scum. Both days burned into my memory and still fresh in my mind. Wee Gordon was a legend in my eyes from his Aberdeen days, and when he went to Leeds he was mesmerising, 100 per cent effort every game, covered every piece of grass on the hallowed turf, and rumour has it he maintained his fitness on a diet of seaweed and bananas. Other away days which you could do an article on are Semis vs Cov at Hillsborough, the 5-0 defeat at Chelshit where the electronic scoreboard got wrecked, and Bournemouth away which was just the best 4 days I have ever had.
Heres to Vinnie going in the dressing room before the game, and geeing all the lads up, and a 5-0 win.
Trust you are well monsignor
I’m fine thanks Tom, thanks for the ideas on future articles – haven’t ever been able to bring myself to relive that Cov defeat in the semi, though there’s more to that one than meets the eye, as some of the memories of that pre-Hillsborough disaster day are of just how scary it got in the Leppings Lane End crush. Bournemouth is one I’d like to do, but I wasn’t lucky enough to be there – though I do have a story to tell which involves how I managed to stampede a field full of cows when Chappy scored. Nostalgia ain’t what it used to be, but there’s a hell of a lot of material back there in the past 🙂 MOT
I remember very clearly the day we signed Strachan Rob. It was the day I returned from a Greek holiday, landed at Leeds Bradford airport and nipped into Morrisons at Yeadon to buy some basics to make a brew etc and bought a YEP and there it was all over the back page. (The Yorkshire Evening Post had its finger on the pulse for all things Leeds United in them days unlike Mr P Hay nowadays!!!) Don’t ask me what I was doing the day JF Kennedy was assassinated though as I haven’t got a clue cos he was never even linked with signing for Leeds anyhow was he??? MOT
It was a bit cheeky of me to post this article again really, it’s about the third time around for this Leicester match piece – though I have modified it slightly to make it relevant to the 25th anniversary of Strach signing. Still, it’s been gratifying to see it’s well received again, perhaps some people are reading it for the first time. Certainly it remains one of my best United memories and, as some have been kind enough to say about this piece, it does make the goosebumps appear and the hair stand up on the back of your neck, every time you see in your mind’s eye that left foot screamer hit the back of the net. A great, great day – and Strachan is part of the furniture in the LUFC Hall of Fame.
I have to laugh now when Leeds are linked with a player seemingly coming towards the end of his career. The ‘he is to bloody old’ are often written all over the social networking sites. What would they have said about Gordon Strachan? I must admit, I wasn’t keen on the signing at the time but then again, I often disliked the players that Howard Wilkinson brought in who went on to play a pivotal part at some stage for the club.
Do you think we would have gone up in 1989/90 or go on to win the title two years later without Strachan? – I doubt it. I wouldn’t say it was solely down to him but he was a massive part of it. He dragged everyone else along in the promotion season and in the following two-years. His desire and passion was what epitomised everything the fans and club demand from a player and how we could do with someone like him now. I was stood right behind his strike against Leicester City. I was in the South Stand all of that season, same spot, right in the middle just above the level with the crossbar. I had been up to my elbow in plaster since February but nothing stopped me that day climbing the fence and celebrating on the pitch at the end of the game.
The 89/90 season still remains my favourite ever season following Leeds and much of that was down to Strachan. His goal against Hull proved just as crucial in the long run.
Great memories when I think of Gordon Strachan in a white shirt.
I doubt we’ll see his like again. We paid him in a year half what Rooney now gets in a week! The world has turned sick and insane since then.