Author Archives: Rob Atkinson

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Clarke……One Nil! Hear the Late, Great David Coleman as Leeds Utd Win the Cup

David Coleman died today, and with him went another piece of our youth for all those of my generation who grew up listening to him describe Cup Finals, historical athletics achievements and so much more, all in that distinctive, much imitated voice – the voice of the seventies, surely.

This video shows highlights of the Centenary FA Cup Final at Wembley on 6th May 1972, a game whose only goal will forever be remembered in terms of Coleman’s memorably laconic description. As the ball winged in from the right, crossed by Mick Jones, Coleman simply intoned: “Clarke ……… one-nil!” There was the implication that a goal followed such a chance for Sniffer as surely as night follows day – and so it most usually did. But this was a special, historic day, the only time to date that Leeds have ever won the FA Cup, and so the commentary has a special resonance, much as Kenneth Wolstenholme‘s did for the World Cup Final of 1966. As Coleman recapped the Clarke goal at Wembley that day, he added that it was “an example of the Leeds one-two”. He usually had the right words for any occasion, and his unique voice always enhanced whatever game he was describing.

A marvellous commentator and a giant of sports coverage over many years, he even saw a new term introduced into the language courtesy of Private Eye magazine. “Colemanballs” was an affectionate reference to his occasional lapse – and it’s as much a tribute to him as anything else that will be said on this sad day of his death at the venerable age of 87.

David Coleman, 1926 – 2013 RIP  A sad loss who will be much missed – thanks for the memories.

The Lesson of Leeds United: Sort Out These Tyrant Owners – by Rob Atkinson

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Bates: Irrelevant

Many times over the past few years I despaired of the future of my beloved Leeds United.  It was a club dying under the not-exactly benevolent rule of one Kenneth William Bates, a man who had taken control at Elland Road almost 21 years after declaring his avowed intent to see the club banished from the Football League and sent into oblivion.  This perhaps wasn’t the best recommendation for the supposed saviour of United (we heard repeatedly later of how he had saved Leeds at least once, and possibly two or three times).

The next seven years made you wonder whether the Bates reign had started with the breaking of a mirror in the Elland Road boardroom, although what followed was not so much bad luck as bad management, bad PR, bad taste – just every shade of bad you could possibly think of.  Ken’s method of “saving” Leeds, involving as it did relegation to the club’s lowest ever league status, did not inspire confidence.  Administration ensued, with record points deductions which saw an institution of the game in this country being hounded by their fellow league clubs who snarled and slavered as they were ranged against a hapless and helpless United.  It was like watching a mortally-wounded lion being snapped at by a pack of degraded hyenas – or standing by, powerless and frustrated, as a beloved family member was beaten up by snarling thugs.  It was simply horrible.

All in all, then, Bates’ potential as saviour looked more like that of a man who was determined to compass the demise of the club – and many were the reminders of his 1984 Chelsea-owning vow:  ”I shall not rest until Leeds United are kicked out of the football league. Their fans are the scum of the earth, absolute animals and a disgrace. I will do everything in my power to make sure this happens.”  Seven years under a Ken Bates thus motivated is a hell of a long time; for much of that period, things were bleak, grim and joyless around LS11.  The peaks of success were achieved in spite of Bates, not because of him; promotion and a famous win at the home of the Champions in the FA Cup came against a background of player sales, transfer market impotence and managers hamstrung into a frustrated inability to do their jobs properly and effectively.  Ken Bates was to Leeds United what Myxomatosis had been to the rabbit population of Australia; if he’d been left unchecked, the club may well have died.  It was that serious.

Now of course, despite the odd white-bearded apparition seen slithering around in the vicinity of Elland Road, Ken Bates is gone from the club.  It’s safe to pick up a programme again (and even a bit cheaper) – without having to bear the embarrassment of reading his latest rants against the fans (morons) or his business associates, nearly all of whom were either suing him or being sued by him – but at the club’s expense.  No more Radio Bates FM, no more silly bloody notions of a Northern take on Chelsea Village.  Gone and irrelevant, unlamented and destined (we devoutly hope) to leave no long-term mark on our beloved Leeds.

The legacy of Bates now is more intangible than material.  Sure, there’s the cladding on the East Stand and a few vanity projects elsewhere in the stadium.  But the true impact is on the fans; as a body we are now suspicious of owners, investors, saviours – yes, especially saviours.  The fans know what they want, but for the current owners of Leeds United it’s a slow process winning their unqualified trust – even if their aims really are absolutely parallel to those of the frustrated and long-suffering United support.  I write this with feeling; I’ve been as guilty as the next man of occasionally expressing doubts and reservations about where we’re heading under GFH, or under whatever the Consortium apparently on the brink of another takeover will call themselves.  It’s just not easy to lose that suspicion which amounts almost to paranoia; it’s not easy to trust men who are, after all, businessmen wanting to show some return on their money.  Trust will come, but more solid proof may be needed before everything in the garden is rosy.

Double jeopardy: Allam and Tan

Double jeopardy: Allam and Tan

Still, relative to certain other clubs, things are pretty good at Leeds United.  We could be Hull, struggling against an embarrassing change of name being foisted by owner Assem Allam on unwilling supporters who want to be Hull City and not Hull Tigers (cringe).  We could be Cardiff City, already suffering in red after they’ve been Bluebirds these many years.  Of course these two clubs are in the Premier League, and that will mean a lot to their fans.  But at what price?  Would Leeds United fans accept an elevation which comes at such a premium?  Red instead of White, or being known as Leeds Red Bulls even?  What price tradition, pride, identity?  I know how I’d feel – I’d fight such scandalous iniquities to my dying breath, and whatever the feelings of certain complaisant short-term glory seekers, I’m sure there’d be many thousands fighting with me.  As things stand, we have to trust that our current and future owners do not intend to follow a Hull or a Cardiff route.  If that trust were to be breached, things could get pretty hot for those gentlemen.

At times during the Bates era, I used to wish that something official could be done about him, to have him forcibly excised from our club.  “Fit and proper?”, I’d think to myself, unable to understand how any governing body could accept this of such a transparently villainous and malicious, self-serving old curmudgeon.  I saw managers depart and I knew they’d not had a fair chance.  I used to hope that maybe the League Managers Association (LMA) would advise its members not to work for Bates, and force the issue that way.  I doubt it would ever have come to that – too many peace-at-any-price merchants in those particular corridors of power.  But that’s how desperate I felt, that’s how much I wanted rid.  It’s just a year ago since the beginning of the end of Bates.  What a very much happier year it has been.

Now, with things so much more positive around Elland Road, and with the promise of better things yet to come, I can feel some sympathy for fans – and managers – who are suffering under tyrants, much as we did.  Particularly, I feel sympathy for Malky Mackay, the manager of Cardiff City who got them at last into the Premier League and whose reward is that he probably won’t be their manager for much longer.  He’s been issued with a “resign or be sacked” ultimatum by owner Vincent Tan, a man whose football knowledge adds up to precisely zero.  Still, having ruined the Bluebirds image, he feels qualified to criticise the coaching, tactics and transfer policy of a football man, a solid professional and a man of dignity and restraint in Mackay.  This manager is a dead man walking and he must know it – but still, he’s travelled to Anfield with his team, hoping against hope that he can coax a performance out of what must be a bewildered, angry and confused group of players – at the daunting home of a formidable Liverpool side.  And then, he’ll be gone.  I fervently hope he sticks to his guns and refuses to walk, and I hope too that every penny of his contract is paid up to him.  He will emerge with massive credit for a job well done; he will not be out of work for long.

If there are any hitches with the terms of his dismissal, though, the LMA should show it does have some teeth – and withdraw their members from availability for the Cardiff manager’s position.  Maybe they should do that anyway, to show some solidarity and to demonstrate to Tan and the others like him that the cadre of football professionals will not be made to jump through hoops at the petulant whim of wealthy but clueless, spoiled and egotistical individuals who are just looking for a shiny toy to play with.  I would love to see Tan in the position of having to manage his own football affairs.  His players wouldn’t be able to perform for laughing.  And after all, why should any honest professional, player, coach or manager want to work for such a man?  Let him paddle his own canoe, and let him sink without trace.  In the long run, it would even be better for the fans that way.

English football stands today in real danger of being dragged down to the level of certain other leagues throughout the world, where petulance and tantrums rule over sober judgement and the sanctity of professionalism.  This is something that should be resisted, tooth and nail.  As Leeds United fans, we feel a rivalry with pretty much any other set of fans anywhere, and an antipathy with several groups who don’t need naming here – but decidedly, Cardiff would be among that number.  However, in this situation, I believe that solidarity and the greater interests of the game as a whole should transcend any mere club or fan rivalry.  I’d be happy to stand alongside any Cardiff fans who wanted to protest about Tan and his treatment of a manager who has delivered a lifelong wish for them.  I would be proud to stand four square with them, and chant and sing as lustily as any.  Ultimately, no club is an island, and what can happen to one could happen to any or all.  We have the thin end of an almighty big wedge here, and if something is not done soon, then we might be surprised at some of the changes that will be imposed on clubs that might appear impervious to such interference.  And, of course, more good, honest managers like Malky Mackay will be humiliated in the press, and will lose their jobs at the whim of a megalomaniac who isn’t fit to run a pub quiz.

We at Leeds United should be as conscious of all this as anybody else.  We were nearer to disaster than many would care to admit when the first rumblings of a takeover were heard halfway through 2012.  And who knows what the future yet holds for Leeds?  At the end of the day, the notorious truculence and militancy of the Leeds United support may yet be its biggest asset – especially if, as usual, the game’s various governing bodies turn out to be about as much use as a pet rock.  So we need to stand ready at all times to look out for the interests of our club, which is so close to the hearts of so many of us.  And in the meantime, we cannot afford to ignore the plight of our counterparts at other clubs.  Solidarity and the will to organise and resist are immensely powerful forces if wielded wisely – as we found in our own fight against Bates, the will of the fans being, I believe, instrumental in giving impetus and direction to the takeover.

Let’s support the Hull and Cardiff fans where and how we can.  Let’s see if we can’t apply some pressure, as an organised and cosmopolitan movement of fans, to bodies like the FA, the Football League, the Premier League, the PFA and last but not least the LMA.  Maybe then the message would be brought home to Vincent Tan and similar tyrants that the game is bigger than them – bigger by far – and that their actions if seen to undermine the foundations of that edifice, will not be tolerated.

Time to Do Away With Megabucks Ownership and Let Fans Run Clubs – by Rob Atkinson

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Vincent Tan: clueless

The time is fast approaching when the people who know what the game in this country is all about, are going to have to stand up and be counted.  I mean, of course, the fans – and I write in the full awareness that too much standing up can lead to you being evicted from some of the more authoritarian clubs in the various leagues.  But this type of standing up would be symbolic.  It would send out a signal that we, the fans, have had enough of clueless owners and chairmen manking about with our game.

In the last week or so, it’s been carnage in the Premier League alone.  Steve Clarke of West Bromwich Albion has been sacked, a decision that makes lighting that extra boiler to get a few more leagues of speed out of the “Titanic” seem like a model of sober judgement.  Andre Villas-Boas has gone too, a victim of his club’s failure to hang on to their star performer from last season, Gareth Bale.  Anyone who saw the look on the face of Danial Levy during Spurs’ 5-0 demolition by Liverpool would not have given much for AVB’s chances of avoiding the pre-Christmas axe.  Meanwhile, up in Hull, battle-scarred old warhorse Steve Bruce is having to hide behind a sickly grin and pretend that it’s OK that Hull’s megalomanic owner, Assem Allam, is planning to trample all over the finer feelings of City’s support by forcing through a name change to Hull Tigers whilst inviting those who vociferously object to “die as soon as they like”. Tigers, Tigers, rah, rah, rah!

And now we have the news that Cardiff City’s clueless owner Vincent Tan has told his successful manager Malky Mackay – a hero to the Cardiff fans, and rightly so – to either resign, or be sacked.  Presumably Mr Tan feels that Mackay has been interfering too much in team affairs, and not listening to the vast wisdom of one V. Tan Esquire.  Who does this jumped-up little pro think he is, after all? Doesn’t he know whose toy Cardiff City is??

In truth, it’s beyond a joke already.  Good, honest pros are at the mercy of clueless amateurs whose only qualifications to be where they are in the football hierarchy are a stuffed wallet and a fool’s ego.  It’s way past time that somebody, somewhere, got a few people of common sense and influence together – or failing that, the likes of Bobby Charlton and Trevor Brooking would do – and set to discussing an alternative model for the game in England – before these spoiled, rich-kid charlatans ruin it beyond repair.

You wouldn’t have to look far to find that alternative model.  Go East, young man – cast your eye and focus your thoughts across the North Sea and look how things are run in the Bundesliga of good old Deutschland. Wonderful stadia with safe standing, reasonable ticket prices, a fantastic league nurturing a successful national team – and the fans involved at every level, helping make the decisions that ultimately affect them, for the good of all – not just some bloated plutocrat with a brain full of damp rot and the arrogant belief that wealth justifies autocracy.

Football in this country has a long history of being in thrall to a clutch of well-to-do local businessmen, but at least there was a hint of democracy in the old-style board of directors.  Now it’s CEO’s here and Directors of Football there, and all frantically knuckling their brows to whichever barmy billionaire sits on top of the whole creaky edifice.  They say with power comes responsibility, but not in English football.  No, sir.  These people delegate the responsibility whilst hanging on to the power.  They hire and they fire and then they do it all over again.  As the process goes on, so the credibility of the game diminishes – what’s the reaction of the fan in the street when he hears that an excellent coach like Steve Clarke has been sacked before the season is half-over?  Why, they laugh derisively, clearly unaware of the respect due to some stockbroker and investment banker who happens to own most of West Brom – despite being unburdened by any knowledge of the game.

Sadly, it looks nigh-on impossible to transform our game into anything resembling its efficiently-successful German counterpart.  Too many vested interests, too much money involved – and far too many tender, fat, sleek egos which demand to be stroked and adored whilst being party to amateurish decisions that would shame a Tory minister.  So it looks as though we’ll have to put up with what we’re reluctantly witnessing happen – and resign ourselves to the game here become ever more like the franchise system of American Football.  Yay.

When’s the next home Ashes series, anyone?

Teen Goal Machine Could be Leeds United’s Latest Rough Diamond – by Rob Atkinson

Shaquille McDonald - eleven goals in three youth games

Shaquille McDonald – eleven goals in three youth games

The intriguing name of Shaquille McDonald appeared on the Leeds United Development Squad team sheet today, for the away game against Coventry City at Nuneaton.  Intriguing not just for the relatively exotic name – this is a lad with a serious goal-scoring record at Peterborough United – a record that persuaded the Posh to hand him, at the age of 17, a four-year contract.  He was apparently regarded as “the future” by chairman Darragh MacAnthony, and there were high hopes of a young man who once scored eleven goals in just three youth games.  Sadly, those bright hopes seem to have been dashed as far as Peterborough United were concerned, and the long (and some say lucrative) contract was torn up by mutual consent after only four months, following an incident in which the police were involved as well as, allegedly, a baseball bat.

That all sounds quite serious, but full details are not known; there’s a hazy smoke of hearsay and speculation around what actually happened.  The whole affairs screams “attitude problem” – but the lad is seventeen, after all.  I can’t think of that many seventeen year-olds who don’t have an attitude problem to some degree, although admittedly most manage to weather these without necessarily resorting to baseball bats.  The outstanding statistic is that burst of eleven goals in three games – it’s hard to believe that this is a guy lacking in ability, maybe even in the kind of poaching instinct any club would be grateful for.  There certainly question marks around this trial and it may well come to nothing – but it does show that Brian McDermott and his developing scouting team are casting the net far and wide in the search for rough diamonds to polish.  So far, it’s difficult to question anyone’s judgement – the awesomely-effective Marius Žaliūkas was a property being avoided like the plague by many supposedly good judges, but he’s come to Leeds and looked the real deal.

Gboly Ariybi

Gboly Ariyibi

Shaquille McDonald managed 60 minutes of today’s Development Squad game (a 2-1 win for Leeds) – so it remains to be seen whether the club will be looking at him further.  But looking for talent they most certainly are – another young prospect recently taken on board was ex-Southampton winger Gboly Ariyibi (pictured above), about whom good things have been said.  The search for more established talent will have to wait until January, and will depend upon the outcome of all this exciting talk of takeovers and daring to dream.

Any progressive club will be looking at least as assiduously for future talent as they must for ready-made stars, so it’s good to see a few outstanding prospects being – well, prospected.  If the future is going to be as bright and White as we all hope, this kind of forward-thinking approach is essential – and it’s reassuring too that the club is not put off looking at raw talent by any slightly shady circumstances surrounding that talent.  Even if this lad’s shot his bolt at Peterborough, he was deemed good enough to be offered a long contract and that goal record rather speaks for itself.  It’d certainly be a good one to snatch from under Fergie Junior’s nose, if he DID turn out to have what it takes.

Exciting times at all levels at Elland Road.  They promise to get more exciting still over the next few days and weeks.

Cristiano Ronaldo to Sweep Board in Fifa’s ‘Narcissist of the Year’ Awards – by Rob Atkinson

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A tender moment between CR7 and his biggest hero

Sometimes, you catch sight of a headline and, as you feel your eyebrows heading for your hairline, you wonder to yourself: “Did I really read that right?” Such a headline caught my notice the other day. “Cristiano Ronaldo opens a museum in his own honour in Madeira, Portugal“, it read. My eyebrows still haven’t returned to their default position – if fact I may well have pulled a couple of muscles there.

The thing is, the story in itself is not that surprising or earth-shattering. The impact is more of a jolt of self-affirmation – having a deep-rooted prejudice confirmed, right out of the blue like that.  You just think – well, I was right about that lad.  You see, I’ve long felt that Senhor Ronaldo has a touch of the Narcissus Complex about him. Many was the time when some noted Man U mouthpiece such as S’ralex Ferguson would say, with no evident sense of irony “Cristiano is the archetypal Man U player” or some such platitude. And I’d just nod, thinking to myself: isn’t he just. As was Royston Keane, pretend tough guy, for his blithe belief that the rules of the game were for lesser mortals. Cantona too, for his strutting, turned-up-collar arrogance – noticeably absent in his time at Leeds United where the likes of Strachan and Batty would have beaten it out of him.

So, despite Ronaldo’s much-publicised yearning to head off for pastures Iberian, I was actually quite surprised when he left the Theatre of Hollow Myths a couple of years back. He just seemed like a perfect fit for that particular club, an apt representative of the puffed-up, self-regarding Pride of Devon. Since arriving in Madrid, a constant theme has been his desire to be regarded in the same light he regards himself – if such a thing were only possible. Because, alongside his undoubted brilliance as a player and his lavish habit of scoring goals at an unprecedented rate for a winger, there has always been this “look at me” air about him.

This particular manifestation of narcissism is at its most apparent when he’s playing in a high-profile match, at the World Cup finals, for instance. There, the games are played in stadia equipped with those flying cams which zip about aerially, capturing close-ups of players from a position, seemingly, just above their heads. So whenever Ronaldo misses a goal or protests to the referee (he does this a lot), you’ll see him in a match like this, glancing at the nearest robot camera, then maybe checking out his magnified image on the inevitable big screen, admiring the pose even as he’s striking it.  He has a special “poised to take a free kick” pose as well – you’ve probably noticed.  He loves this one – legs akimbo, stock still, seemingly waiting for the crowd to subside to an awed hush. He sneaks little sidelong glances at the big screen then too, checking himself out.  It’s really quite funny and a little bit pitiful. There’s no denying that he’s a very good-looking lad, and yet this too-evident, overpowering self-adoration is curiously unattractive, casting a patina of ugliness onto features usually apt to set hearts, not all of them female, a-flutter.

It’s a character trait that makes it impossible to define Ronaldo simply in terms of his technical ability, his genius with a football at his feet, or even his extravagant goalscoring record. In this way, the narcissistic flaw in his make-up serves to keep him out of the Pantheon of True Greats, players – many of lesser ability – who combined admirable qualities such as humility, modesty, self-restraint on and off the field – things like that – with their obvious talent. Marks of maturity and character all, and reminders that talent alone, even genius, is not enough. Ronaldo’s flaws are less extreme than, say, Georgie Best‘s – and he’s certainly a much better pro – but just as was the case with Best, those flaws threaten to have him remembered at least as much for the negative parts of his persona as the positive aspects of his game.

Ronaldo is simply unable to restrain this tendency to sound overtly, overweeningly in love with himself. As many know, when somebody is in love, they’re totally unable to comprehend how anyone would be able to resist loving the object of their adoration. It’s a type of tunnel vision – the lover cannot see anything but good about the loved. This would appear to be precisely the nature of Cristiano Ronaldo’s intensely passionate relationship with himself. If he ever needed a motto, he could do a lot worse than to open his Bible and paraphrase John 15:13, summing himself up with “Greater love hath no man than I for me”. By comparison, Narcissus himself comes over as having slight self-esteem issues. Ronaldo loves Ronaldo, and you get the feeling that he honestly can’t understand why the world at large can’t share in his joy.

The opening of the CR7 Museum, by the adored CR7 himself, in honour of the said adored CR7, sums all of this up quite neatly. It provides independent verification of mine and others’ long-standing summing-up of Cristiano Ronaldo, and as such it’s really more to be wryly laughed at than fumed over. But it is a pity, in its way: a footballer’s life as an active player is, after all, relatively brief. After retirement, and as the glittering career fades ever further into the past, history can take a more jaundiced view of the former star than those who were there in the instant, cheering and applauding as a virtuoso performer plied his genius trade. The later view of the legend, the “warts and all” version, can even come to focus more on the warts than on much else worthy of admiration.

If Ronaldo wants the eye of history to gaze benignly upon him (and you can bet your last penny he does), then a little humility, a little less obvious awareness of his own talent and gorgeousness would have been a big help. But it’s late in the day for that; even now he’s seen as someone in whom human virtues epitomised by the likes of John Charles or Bobby Moore are sadly absent. In the meantime though, why would Cristiano care? He is playing for one of the biggest clubs on the planet, he has won and will win many medals and trophies – his life is one grand, sweet song.

It’s just that he appears to have been blighted by a crucial part of his development; that few years spent at Man U which can have an unfortunate effect upon an impressionable young man, especially one with a certain arrogance about him, the air of a braggart. It can have him believing in his own publicity and the rightness of everything he does or thinks, an impression reinforced by a complaisant media. Other, similar examples of this type have emerged from the club, other flawed characters who would have benefited from formative years spent in a less privileged and less insular environment. It manifests itself differently in Beckham, Keane, Cantona and a few more who spring to mind – but all of these players have emerged from Man U with character issues to confront, something they’re doing with varying degrees of determination and success. It does have to be said that not everyone is carried away on such a perilous tide; Paul Scholes for instance remained firmly detached from all the hype, to his eternal credit – and simply got on with his job. Andrei Kanchelskis was another such.

Cristiano Ronaldo is simply the most obvious example of the kind of young man who in many ways summed up the character of a club like Man U, but in many more ways was in sore need of being taken down a peg or two when the time was still ripe for his character to develop along more attractive lines. The moral is, I suppose: If you have a talented youth who thinks he’s the bees’ knees – send him to Barnsley where he’ll learn the rudiments and have the more offensive edges knocked off him. You won’t produce quite such a polished player that way, it must be admitted. But you would end up with a much better all-round bloke; one who would perhaps guffaw derisively at the thought of opening a museum in his own honour.

“Proud” Spurs Dad Gets Daughter to Thumb Nose at Suarez – But Luis Has Last Laugh – by Rob Atkinson

Luis Suarez - last laugh

Luis Suarez – last laugh

What does it take to make a Spurs fan’s day when you see your favourites getting thrashed 5-0 at home by Liverpool?  Arsenal’s defeat at Man City might have helped – but the Gunners only conceded as many as a hapless Spurs side at the Etihad, and at least they managed to score three where Tottenham managed a grand total of zero – so that’s a non-starter.  Fortunately, some Spurs fans have such low expectations of life at a post-Bale White Hart Lane – they can get an amazing amount of enjoyment from a jape you’d have thought was more to the taste of someone in his early teens.  Still, these are gloomy times around N17, and a chap has to get his laughs where he can.

So it was that long-suffering Spurs fan Des Brown – on hearing that his daughter Olivia was to be the home team mascot when Liverpool visited – persuaded her to pull a childish stunt on Suarez by thumbing her nose at the Uruguayan when he offered to shake hands.  It’s a thing that even the likes of Patrice Evra might have scorned as too embarrassing for words, but clearly it was all meat and drink to Mr Brown who was transparently thrilled.  To anyone who might wonder what’s missing in his life that he should take such delight in a trick worthy of a seven-year old, he observed: “Suarez isn’t the nicest character so I just wanted her to do it……..It’s made my day – it’s just hilarious.”

Perhaps it’s as well that the incident occurred so that something could make Mr Brown’s day – as clearly the football match that ensued wouldn’t have been palatable for him or for any other Spurs fan, Liverpool strolling to an easy 5-0 win with Suarez having the last laugh as he scored two of the goals.  Sadly though, even the consolation of his daughter agreeing to pull a playground stunt on her Dad’s behalf failed to be fully appreciated by Dismal Des, as he didn’t even see it happen.  “I said I’d give her £20 to give him the thumb to the nose and the twiddly fingers,” admitted the not-all-that-mature Dad. “Afterwards she came back to our seats and said ‘dad I’ve done it’ and I told her I didn’t see it and she said he just laughed and then she asked for her £20.”

It seems that young Olivia’s head is screwed on that bit more tightly than her silly-billy pop’s – at least she’s 20 quid up on the deal, after all – and she got a laugh out of a superstar.  Des meanwhile is £20 down, a 5-0 defeat sadder and wiser – well, sadder anyway – well, perhaps not even that given his pre-existing degree of sadness – and he didn’t even see his daughter’s fulfilment of his wishes.  Oh well, never mind.  Spurs have Southampton away next – maybe they could bust the form book and get a draw, or at least keep it down to less than five or six.  Then, even Mr Brown might be able to think about football again, instead of nursery games.

Suarez, meanwhile, goes from strength to strength despite the crushing blow of having a child thumb her nose at him because “he’s not the nicest character”.  Perhaps his season will survive such a mortal insult, perhaps, even, he might reflect that an alleged adult who bribes his child to act thus in front of millions on live TV isn’t actually the nicest character either – or the cleverest.  But Suarez has a 5-0 win to keep him smiling.  How do you like them cockerels, Mr Brown?

A Year On the Blog With Leeds United: Happy Birthday! – by Rob Atkinson

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The early version blog header

One year ago today, looking to diversify in my writing life, I started a blog.  It was one of those things I thought I might devote the odd hour or so to, every other day, while plugging away at the bread and butter stuff.  It’d be a change as good as a rest, it seemed to me – a chance to write for my own pleasure about a variety of things which exercised me on a regular basis, chief among them Leeds United AFC.  I’d stick in a few of my lefty political rants too, I mused, stuff that hadn’t found its target elsewhere, but stuff I still wanted to say – and have people read if possible.  And I figured that, as I was just doing it for fun, I could quietly drop it if the going got tough, or if it got in the way of anything important.  I truly didn’t realise how it would grow through this first year, and now I think I’m stuck with it.  It’s still a labour of love, but it shows all the signs of becoming far more than that; for the time being, I’m content to go wherever it leads me.

I thought I’d nick a title from one of my heroes, the late, great genius Douglas Adams, and his legendary, superb trilogy of five, “The Hitchhikers’ Guide to the Galaxy“.  So I nabbed a title, inserted Leeds United to make it mine, and there I was.  For the first few months I wrote away happily but fairly occasionally, not paying too much attention to readership, or viewing figures.  It toddled along quite nicely, my infant blog, entertaining me if not many others.  Then it got picked up by the “NewsNow” news aggregator – and the numbers went through the roof.

By the end of August, I’d had a total of 13,000 views in eight and a half months. Now it’s a gnat’s whisker under 400,000.  Just yesterday I wrote an article which, by itself, has attracted over 30,000 readers in 24 hours.  To say the blog has grown is hopelessly to understate the case.  It’s surpassed my expectations many times over. In this, I’m lucky to be writing primarily about Leeds United, a club that has always generated enormous interest and always will.  My sidelines of taking swipes at traditional enemies have extended my readership among fans of other clubs.  It’s been, in short, a very encouraging first year – particularly the time since late August when I was fortunate enough to see the reach of the thing extend to the entire globe.

The upside of all this has been considerable, for me personally and by implication for my other work – books I have in progress and articles I write elsewhere.  There have also been downsides.  From the shallow depths of my one year’s experience, I would certainly tell any would-be blogger – go for it, but you’ll need a thick skin and an even temper.  The vast majority of the people out there will judge a site on its merits; they have the choice of reading or ignoring it, after all.  But you get the odd few who read every word you write and insist on hating every single syllable.  They then write in and tell you how useless it is, how you can’t write: “I could of done better than that rubishy nonesense if I could of been arsed” was one of the more literate attempts at scathing critique, selected at random from my Black Museum of rejected feedback.

Desk

The home of the blog

The best thing, I have found, is to ignore all of this sort of stuff, on the basis that a heckler denied the oxygen of attention will soon burn himself or herself out – still, they can be very persistent, and occasionally I’ve not been able to resist having a bite back. Sometimes I’ll resort to editing a negative comment of particular filth and violence, so that it reads more acceptably and thereby annoys the perpetrator.  Whenever I’ve done this, I’ve added the response “It’s good to be King”, just to distinguish the contributions I’ve tampered with.  Only today this so enraged some petulant herbert that he threatened to “slash me with a nife (sic)” if he ever saw me around LS11 – and of course he may well see me – if he ever goes to games.  I mention that merely to illustrate the phenomenon of the tantrum-prone troll – it’s not really much of a problem, more a mild irritation and, as I’ve said – best ignored.  The one thing that these types have in common beyond appalling literacy skills is their essential cowardice – they strike from behind the shield of anonymity and will not emerge into the daylight of honesty and accountability.  It takes all sorts, I suppose – but what a futile existence.

I’m confident now that this blog will continue to grow, and to assist and support my other endeavours.  It’s provided a platform of sorts, for which I’m very grateful – and by far the greater part of the feedback has been positive, constructive, thought provoking and intensely rewarding.  It’s emphasised for me as well just how incredibly passionate the fans of Leeds United are; how much anything to do with our great club is seized upon eagerly by voracious readers with an endless appetite for all things Leeds.  I can certainly relate to that, so it’s extremely fulfilling for me to be able to contribute, in some small measure, to the massive body of work out there surrounding the ups and downs of the Mighty Whites of Elland Road.  It will continue to be my pleasure and privilege to do this, and I hope to see this site continue to thrive, to grow and to spread the Leeds United word even further and even wider.

To all of those who have read anything I’ve written this past year – thank you.  I hope you’ll keep reading.  I’d be grateful if those readers could spread the word, follow the blog, share it among their Leeds fanatic friends.  If you want to buy the blog half a bitter for its birthday, you can even do that – there’s a donations link over to the left.  Seriously, every little helps, whether it’s a quid or a buck or a share or follow –  and there’ll be much more to come from Life, Leeds United, the Universe & Everything as the next year rolls by – hopefully a year of great progress for our club as all the signs are that we may be on the verge of an exciting new era and headed unstoppably for the big time again.  It’s been far too long, but you can’t keep a good club down, never mind a great one like Leeds.  I’ll look forward to charting our progress, being supportive, showing incredible bias of a totally non-journalistic flavour and perhaps criticising when it seems appropriate.

Every time anyone clicks on an article in this blog, it means such a lot to me, just as every time Leeds United take a step forward it means such a massive amount to every one of us fanatics out here.  The next year should be one of continued growth and improvement here on this humble blog and much more importantly there at Elland Road where the stars and heroes do their best to make the dreams we dare to dream come true.  Marching On Together, we can all look forward confidently to better times ahead.

Darren Fletcher of Man Utd a Positive Role Model for the Chronically Ill – by Rob Atkinson

For a Leeds United fan, yesterday’s news that Man U had won 3-0 at their perennial rabbit team Aston Villa was hardly welcome or, in itself, inspiring. The two Uniteds from either side of the Pennines share a mutual loathing that has become legendary and transcends geographical proximity or considerations of direct rivalry, the normal prerequisites for a healthy hate-hate relationship. The fact that Leeds and the club I fondly refer to as the Pride of Devon are miles apart both in location and in status has not affected the poisonous depths of the antipathy between the two.  We sing about them in terms of extreme dislike, they reciprocate in tones of mixed cockney and that characteristic West country burr. Neither set of fans would cross the road to save one of the enemy, by means of micturition, from a death by conflagration.  It’s been like that for years.

However, some things are more important than football’s strife and conflict, on or off the field.  The other news to emerge from Villa’s capitulation was without doubt positive, welcome and a thing to be celebrated by anyone who loves football – indeed by anyone at all. It is the story of a young athlete with a glittering career before him who was struck down by a chronic and debilitating medical condition, yet who has overcome that awful setback to regain a place among his team-mates playing a highly demanding game at the top level.

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Fletcher – back from the brink

Darren Fletcher made his senior bow for Man U in 2002 and performed with versatility and industry in midfield and defensive roles, depending on the requirements of his club, up until 2011 when he was finally struck down by the bowel condition ulcerative colitis, something he had been coping with whilst playing on – but which now necessitated rest and treatment.  It was announced that Fletcher would take an extended break from football to address his problems and, obviously, there were fears in some quarters about whether he would be able to return to such a demanding way of making his living.  Yet return he did, in September 2012, only to be then ruled out for the remainder of last season after undergoing an operation to lessen the effects of a condition which can have life-altering consequences depending on its severity and treatment. Last Saturday at Villa was Fletcher’s second comeback – but this time it seems that the problem may have been overcome for the longer term.

Fletcher himself certainly believes that he is back to stay, having beaten his health problems.  “This is it, I’m back for good,” he told MUTV, the club’s in house TV channel. “This (the Villa game) is hopefully the game which means I’m back now.

“I seem to have come through the setbacks and health issues and I’m thankful for that. It’s onwards and upwards now.  I always believed I would come back, I kept that mind-set. I think other people around me were trying to make me think otherwise, but I stayed strong and believed I would get back.”

All football fans should be wishing Fletcher the best and hoping earnestly that he is right to be optimistic about the future.  At 29, he still has a good part of his career ahead of him and, having shown the character and courage to overcome such a potentially demoralising and energy-sapping condition, he surely has much to give for club and also his country.  As the captain of Scotland, his will be an example of determination and courage in adversity that many will look up to, especially those stricken with this or similar conditions at an early age as Fletcher was – and many who are suffering at much younger ages.

Fletcher appears to have fought his fight and won – something that will give hope to many thousands of people who might otherwise be tempted to succumb to a belief that their health problems will stop them from achieving their life goals. Darren Fletcher looks set fair to achieve much more in his career, adding to what is already a glittering trophy and medal haul.  That he can do this despite such a serious setback is greatly to be admired.  The positive example he might set to others is difficult to over-state, and to call him a role-model is no exaggeration. Good luck to him as he regains full fitness and resumes a career that must at one point have been in doubt.  That is something which Darren Fletcher – to his eternal credit –  has clearly never accepted.

Happy 44th Birthday to Leeds Legend Simon Grayson – by Rob Atkinson

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Simon Grayson – Leeds United legend

The happiest of happy birthdays today to Simon Grayson, the man who stands third in the ranks of all-time great United managers, surpassed only by longer-serving luminaries who brought the League Title itself to Elland Road.

Coming as he did to a once-great club at the very lowest ebb of its historical fortunes, Simon was the driving force behind the start of a Leeds revival that is still, slowly but surely, heading us back to the top-flight pastures we used to graze with such relish and assurance.  The fact that we’ve had those dark League One days will, when we are back, make success taste all the sweeter.  Simon Grayson is the figure in United’s history who will forever be remembered as kick-starting that process – and delivering us a rare and treasured win at the Theatre of Hollow Myths into the bargain.  To go to the home of the Champions as a third division side, to outplay them and out-fight them, to win by a goal that could so easily have stretched to a margin of three and to dismiss the Pride of Devon from the FA Cup – these are achievements that will write Grayson’s name indelibly into Leeds United folklore.

Click here:  Celebrating United’s promotion – BBC interview

It must be remembered also that Grayson achieved all of this against a background of almost a decade of decline, with a demoralised support and a chairman who could charitably be described as “less than supportive”.  In an entertaining forum the other night, Simon and some of his colleagues from his time at Elland Road – well, let’s say that they “lifted the lid” a little on his time as United manager, and on his relationship with the Chairman and various of Bates’ cronies and dressing-room spies.  The natural conclusion is that Grayson has finally received his financial entitlement from Leeds United and no longer feels confined by any “gagging order”.  I do hope that’s the case.  Simon was treated shabbily by the Bates-regime Leeds United, both in his tenure and in the manner of his departure.  His is a dismissal I can’t think of without regret – although it clearly has to be said that we have the right man for our times now.

Simon Grayson, 44 years old today and with a long managerial career still ahead of him, already has three League One promotions to his credit, and appears to be working on a fourth at Preston.  Leeds fans should wish him nothing but well, may success crown his efforts at Deepdale, the home of a fine old club and a great name in English football.  Should his path lead him back to the away dugout at Elland Road in the future, Simon Grayson should be assured of a warm welcome as befits a United legend.

Oh, and it’s Dennis Wise’s birthday too, 47 he is.  Yeah.  Happy birthday, Wisey.

Donny Fans Clutch at Straws as Leeds Cruise to Easy Win – by Rob Atkinson

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Three-sy does it for The Beast

One of the perennial bonuses of a nice solid away win at one of Yorkshire’s lesser clubs is the comical, toxic fallout via Twitter and other social media – as the fans of whichever pit-village team it is we’ve put to the sword go into a bitter meltdown of tears, tantrums and recriminations, spiced with protestations of how they’d been the better team and were – wait for it – “unlucky”.  Doncaster yesterday was a typical example of this as their deluded supporters drank deep of the bitter whine produced by the sourest of grapes.

These were the kind of balanced observations you get from having a chip on both shoulders.  The more you read – and it really was worth a good old peruse of the Twittersphere in the wake of yesterday’s routine 3-0 stroll – the funnier it got.  If you gave it an hour, you could actually feel the health benefits kicking in.  The scientific basis of the theories surrounding the endorphins produced by hearty laughter must be beyond all doubt.  After sixty minutes or so trawling those dank corners of the internet where Donny fans could be found chewing away at the virtual carpet, I felt positively wonderful.  They really do build themselves up for these meetings with Big Brother from up the road – but then if it all goes wrong, they simply can’t handle it – and it’s just so funny to see the teddy bears come flying out of those paltry few thousand cots.  Laughter really is the best medicine.

A few gems:  “We played by far the better football”.  “The goal was miles onside and if it had counted things would of (sic) been different”.  “We dominated the match but they had a goalscorer.”  And much, much more in this bottomless pit of comedy gold.  All of them did their little bit to prove the one central truth in the relationship between Leeds United and those lost souls who support other clubs in Yorkshire: namely that they hate us with a passion, while we can hardly be bothered to notice them – unless we have to soil our studs with the indignity of actually playing them.

This is a deeply painful fact of life for your average envious pariah in Bratfud, Donny, Cleckhuddersfax or in that city of warring pigs, Sheffield.  Barnsley, too – they will roll up at Elland Road next weekend suffering from an appalling run that sees them rooted to the bottom of the league – but if they can eke out a win (as they usually do in their Cup Final), it’ll be banquets and open-top bus parades agogo, with souvenir clogs, whippets and flat caps on sale and doing a roaring trade.

Barnsley aside, the intense need to do well against Leeds has often worked against us in the past; our record in Yorkshire derbies is hardly the best.  But it’s not too healthy for the tiny but defiant likes of Huddersfield either – they tend to psyche themselves up for the Golden Occasion, all passion and hard, unstinting effort, roared on by their desperate fans – and if they win, they then embark on a miserable run, knackered by the superhuman effort it took to beat the Damned United.  Look at Huddersfield’s results since that 3-2 win over Leeds.  Classic case of “after the Lord Mayor’s Show”.

I’ve often said that, if United can overcome this frailty against inferior but massively determined opposition, they will prosper.  Yesterday’s win at Donny, apart from reducing their hopeful home crowd to bitter tears and tantrums at the scale of the defeat, went a long way to confirming this.  On the back of generally improved form lately, United produced a classic away “derby” performance against motivated opposition, taking the lead, weathering the inevitable storm without undue alarm and then smoothly going through the gears after the introduction of a midfield enforcer in Brown.  The two late goals emphasised the effectiveness of the approach rather than flattering Leeds; they simply had too much all-round for a committed but out-classed Doncaster side.

If a similar display can be produced against a fired-up Barnsley side next weekend – and this is a game which may well take place on the back of some long-overdue good news for the club – then surely three more points can be expected to send everybody with yellow white and blue blood coursing through their veins into Christmas in a state of good humour bordering on exultation.  We’ve said it before – we’ve dared to dream before – but the rest of this season might just be the best time to be a Leeds United fan for a generation.

MOT