Category Archives: Sport

Happy Birthday to Leeds Utd Legend Paul Madeley – by Rob Atkinson

Posted on 20/09/2013 | 15 comments

Mr. Rolls Royce – 69 Years Young Today

A short but timely piece to wish one of our greatest ever players, Paul Madeley, a very happy birthday today. To think of one of the heroes of my youth reaching the age of 69 is enough to make anyone feel old, but the memory of Paul in a Leeds shirt is vivid.

He was one of the unsung heroes of that great Revie generation, the men who bonded to become a team feared and respected the length and breadth of Europe. He was famous for having appeared in every outfield position for Leeds and so was dubbed a “utility player” – but that hardly did justice to his towering talent, his positional sense and calmness in tight situations and his immaculate reading of the game and distribution. I remember him scoring against Southampton in 1978, a very rare occurence – this was the same match where Tony Currie scored that legendary “banana shot”.

Paul was often also referred to as the “Rolls Royce” of footballers, which some took as a reference to his versatility; but I always thought of the nickname as a tribute to his smooth style of play, utterly unflappable, totally reliable, quietly purring along as he covered so many miles for Leeds United between 1962 and 1980.

In more recent years Paul has not always enjoyed the best of health. He had an operation to remove a benign brain tumour in 1992, had a mild heart attack in 2002 and was diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease in 2004. So it’s welcome news to hear that he’s still getting on and that he’s celebrating his birthday today. The best summary of his attitude to being a professional footballer at Leeds United was related by his former manager Jimmy Armfield, who recalls:

“He once actually signed a new contract on what was virtually a blank piece of paper. I called him in to discuss terms and opened discussions by saying, ‘OK, Paul, we’ll give you so much’. He replied that he had no intention of leaving Leeds so he might as well sign the contract and let me fill in the details. I said, ‘What do you want, then, two years or three years?’ He answered, ‘Either way, I’ll leave it to you. I just want to play for Leeds,’ and that was that”.

That’s some example to put before today’s money-grabbing prima donnas.

Happy Birthday, Paul. You’re a Leeds United legend, and your thousands of fans will always think of you as such.

15 Comments

Posted in Football, Leeds United, Life, Sport

Tagged birthday, Football, Leeds United, legend, Paul Madeley, professional, Revie era, Rolls Royce, soccer, versatile

Leeds United Needs Another Vinnie Jones – by Rob Atkinson

Posted on 20/09/2013 | 13 comments

Sir Vincent Peter Jones

The men who took Leeds United back into the top-flight the last time it happened in 1990 are, of course, legends now. They rank alongside some of the Revie boys because they rescued the club from eight years in the wilderness and restored us to the big time. We had our own diminutive red-haired midfielder as a sort of latter-day homage to Billy Bremner – mighty atom Gordon Strachan, who played a crucial role in the renaissance of Leeds with his leadership and goals. It was a team effort though, and it was as a team that they succeeded – Strachan apart there was no major star, but the guts and drive of the collective effort eclipsed all rivals by the end of that fantastic season, when we were crowned Second Division Champions in sun-drenched and strife-torn Bournemouth. And nobody in the whole club at that time epitomised guts and drive, as well as sheer fist-clenched, vein-throbbing commitment and fight, better than Mr Vincent Peter “Vinnie” Jones.

I’d been aware of Vinnie, of course – who hadn’t? His Crazy Gang antics were legendary and he’d lifted the FA Cup, but he was regarded as a bit of a maverick – still more hod-carrier than footballer, famous for a ten-second dismissal and for his promise to Kenny Dalglish before the 1988 Cup Final against Liverpool to “tear off his ear and spit in the hole”. Still, despite these immaculate credentials, marking him out as a potential Gelderd hero, never in my wildest dreams did I imagine him as a signing for Leeds United, where stirrings had been going on ever since Sergeant Wilko marched in and started shaking the place up. The “marquee signing” – you didn’t actually hear that phrase in those days – was Strachan, plucked from under the nose of his old Man U mentor Ron Atkinson at Sheffield Wednesday to provide the quality at the heart of the Leeds engine room. Now that was the sort of signing I’d hoped and prayed for, and with the likes of Chris Fairclough joining Gordon at Elland Road it seemed to bode well for a real challenge as the close season wore on and 1989-90 loomed closer.

I was in a caravan on the east coast when I heard on the radio that Vinnie was signing for Leeds for around £650,000. I frankly didn’t believe it, but when the reality sank in, my initial reaction was to think – bloody hell, Wilko, what are you playing at? The signings of John Hendrie and Mel Sterland reassured me somewhat, but I was still having trouble seeing what the Jones Boy would bring to the United table, although our lunatic-fringe fans seemed well suited. The early signs were not encouraging. Strachan tells of an incident in a pre-season game against Anderlecht, where he saw an opposing player go down with his nose spread halfway across his face and blood greatly in evidence. Vinnie had casually “done” him en passant before sidling off looking innocent, and Strach recalls thinking: my God – what have we signed here?

Vinnie himself remembers his early days at the club, and being moved to violence by the negative attitudes of some of the players being edged out as Wilko’s new broom started to sweep clean. Among this disaffected few was John Sheridan, something of a Leeds legend – but Jones stood for no nonsense, and there were punches thrown and people seized by the scruff of the neck as he explained his views on solidarity and team spirit. Vinnie was obviously going to be a kill or cure measure – there were signs he might have much to contribute to the collective effort, but equally that he might turn out a loose cannon which could blow up in all our faces. Yet Wilko had a magic touch in those early years, and generally it was proved that he knew what he was doing.

In the event, and despite an uncertain beginning, Vinnie played a massive part in our promotion that year. The fans took to him from the start – the sight of him coming on as a sub in the first home game against Middlesbrough will live long in my memory. I can see him now, in the middle of the park with the game poised at 1-1, shouting and screaming as he conveyed encouragement and instruction in equal measure, arms pumping in an ungainly, baboon-like way, team-mates and opponents alike staring at him aghast. And then he frightened a Boro’ defender into scoring a late, fluky own-goal and we had won, setting us on our way after a disastrous opening-day defeat at Newcastle.

Vinnie just carried on making a difference. He worked and worked, encouraged and exhorted, fought for the cause and put the fear of God up the enemy wherever he encountered them. He scored spectacular goals, important goals. He showed flashes of genuine ability and some of his passing was sublime. He avoided disciplinary trouble to an amazing degree, given his lurid past. He sold himself to no less a judge than Strachan as an honest performer who could “play a bit”.

Vinnie also created a rapport with the crowd I’ve rarely seen before or since, chilling and joking with the wheelchair-users at the front of the West Stand before games, and smoking imaginary cigars as he took the plaudits of the adoring masses after finding the net against Ipswich. In the warm-up before the Wolves match at Elland Road, he provided one of the great moments of humour in a tense campaign, bringing down five year-old mascot Robert Kelly in the area with a signature sliding tackle, much to the delight of the Kop – and of young Robert himself.

Vinnie loved Leeds, the players and fans loved Vinnie and the partnership proved fruitful. Up we went, and when Vincent Jones finally took his leave for the humbler surroundings of Bramall Lane and Stamford Bridge, it was with a tattoo: “LUFC Division Two Champions” proudly inked onto his expensive leg, a partner for the “Wimbledon FA Cup Winners” one on the other limb. He was a Leeds United legend in only a little over a year at the club, a larger-than-life personality of massive ebullience and impact – and he is held in the highest of esteem in LS11 even to this day, when he mixes effortlessly in the rarefied, glitzy atmosphere of Hollywood.

So what do we need more right now than another Vinne type, as we hope to secure another long-overdue return to the top table? Those Jonesy ingredients of passion and power, guts and gumption, are just as important in this league today as they were in those far-off times as the eighties became the nineties. Who could possibly fulfil that role now? Joey Barton maybe? Even he could hardly be a greater culture shock than Vinnie was 25 years ago, but Barton is back in the QPR fold and far beyond our purse anyway – also, quite frankly, he lacks Vinnie’s essential honesty and sheer bad-boy charm. It’s difficult to say who if anyone we might now secure to play the Vinnie part – but if it were possible, in time for the next transfer window, to distil essence of Jones, or to clone him right from his bloodstained boots and tattooed ankles up to his fearsomely-shaven head, then I’d do it, and I’d present the result gift-wrapped for Brian McDermott to deploy as he saw fit.

A man in the mould of Vinnie Jones would be just the shot in the arm our club needs right at this point in time, just the incentive for the crowd to roll up its sleeves and get behind the team for the remaining battles in this 46 game-long war of attrition.

Just imagine the fillip that our season, our whole club would receive – if only we could have our Vinnie back now.

13 Comments

Posted in Football, History, Leeds United, Life, Sport, Uncategorized

Tagged Brian McDermott, Elland Road, FA Cup, Football, history, Leeds United, Liverpool FC, media, promotion, soccer, Sport, transfer window, transfers, UK Football

Wigan and Swansea Doing Well in Europe as West Ham Struggle at Home – by Rob Atkinson

Posted on 19/09/2013 | 10 comments

Bobby Moore Lifts the World Cup for the ‘Ammers

It’s the advent of a New Order we’re seeing in European competition this week – Swansea’s highly impressive performance against fallen giants Valencia being the headline, but Wigan’s solid draw in Belgium also drawing praise. These are not names we’re used to seeing as our various clubs sally forth to uphold the good name of English football by giving Johnny Foreigner a good old punch on the boko (figuratively speaking, of course). The fact that most domestic teams consist of Johnny Foreigners in a ratio of about 8:3 is neither here not there. They’re British clubs and as they stomp all over some hapless bunch of continental also-rans, we feel a surge of pride – don’t we? Even Spurs are doing OK against some unlikely collection of Norwegian lumberjacks.

So what about the old names that have been replaced by these Johnny foreigner come latelies? Forest, Leeds, QPR and Derby all used to campaign successfully abroad, but their recent domestic record is of failure; all are currently embarked on varying programmes of recovery. And then of course, there’s West Ham. Whatever happened to them?

West Ham, you will recall (or possibly not) had a real European Reputation in the sixties, and even a partial one in the seventies. In three consecutive years from 1964 to 1966, the late, great Bobby Moore hoisted silverware at the old Wembley as West Ham won the FA Cup, then the Cup-Winners Cup and then famously the World Cup. That last one is a bit of a joke actually, although Hammers’ fans tell the tale seriously enough. After all, their captain lifted the Jules Rimet trophy in ’66 and their players scored the goals. But as former Irons winger of the time Harry Redknapp admits, even with Moore, Peters and Hurst, the Hammers finished an average of about 17th in that period. “It just goes to show how crap the other eight of us were”, remarked ‘Appy ‘Arry.

Therein, perhaps, lies West Ham’s real problem. They’ve just never quite made it as a Big Club, various shiny baubles notwithstanding. They have this East End identity, they reek of the Krays and Leslie Grantham and other criminal types. But as a serious football institution, they’re not quite there. Even their most famous fan, Alf Garnett, supports Spurs in real life. So the Hammers are left as a club with no real grasp on greatness, one whose main defining characteristics are the Bubbles Song and being generally recognised as bigger than Leyton Orient. That mid-sixties heyday was their zenith – by the grace of Ron Greenwood, a Pope John Paul II lookalike and future England supremo – and assisted by three world-class players who were content for a spell to be big fish in a small pond, the Hammers punched above their weight like some cocky rat boy from Bethnal Green. It couldn’t last, but while it did we became almost accustomed to the sight of a Hammers side fighting to conquer foreign fields – although in later years there would usually be an unhappy ending at the hands of Anderlecht or someone as West Ham met their Waterloo, and the Bubbles – well, burst.

So nowadays, if you want to look beyond the Big Lads at the top of the Premier League – and pending the return of fellow Euro-fighters like Leeds and Forest – it’s Wigan and Swansea we’ll be cheering on against those cross-channel types, whatever our domestic prejudices might be. It IS good to see British clubs doing well abroad – or at least most of them. Sadly it seems that the days of our youth when the famous claret and blue was well-known in stadia the length and breadth of UEFA – those days are probably gone forever and the best chance of the Hammers being in Europe again is if there’s a war. Still, you never know – and they certainly have a better chance than my beloved Leeds. For this season, at any rate.

Well done Wigan and Swansea, you did us proud.

10 Comments

Posted in Football, Leeds United, Life, Sport

Tagged Europa League, Football, Leeds United, soccer, Swansea City, West Ham United, Wigan Athletic

Leeds Must Bounce Back After “Gutted” McDermott’s Unhappy Reading Test – by Rob Atkinson

Posted on 19/09/2013 | 2 comments

Adam le Fondre – Leeds Target, Leeds Nemesis

To paraphrase a more illustrious member of the Atkinson clan – Rowan of that ilk – if winning a game of football in the last minute of stoppage time is finger-lickin’ good, then losing in a like manner is just ass-wipin’ bad. And it could so easily have ended in a Leeds win at Reading last night; nobody could have disputed the fairness of a narrow away victory as United had looked marginally the likelier of two willing teams on a night of ebb and flow. As the final minute or so ticked away, it had appeared that the impressively raucous band of away fans would be heading home jubilant.

Heading home, in fact, is precisely what Jason Pearce should have done with what looked like the last clear-cut chance of the game. It was a good chance, a very clear-cut chance of the “my Gran would have buried that” variety – and Pearce should have gobbled it up. But sadly, he missed, Then, predictably, Lady Luck performed a clumsy and unattractive pirouette, and within two shakes of a donkey’s tail Steven Warnock had managed to get himself a second yellow card. He trailed off miserably, the resultant free-kick was pumped into the Leeds area and there was Adam le Fondre, rumoured target for United all summer long, to glance the ball past Paddy Kenny. 1-0 and finis, the whole game turning on the slings and arrows of that outrageous last minute. Ho hum.

It’s encouraging to report that the hysterical reaction we had come to expect in the wake of just about any Leeds United defeat has been much less apparent under McDermott’s Elland Road regime than it has been in the year or so before. And quite rightly so; Brian is quietly evolving a Leeds United metamorphosis the effect of which runs deep and transcends the statistical impact of mere results. It’s hard to think of any man more deserving of an extended honeymoon period – without actually getting married – than the unassuming and softly-spoken United chief. Most of what he has touched so far has turned to gold and the feeling is that, as he becomes ever more firmly entrenched, he will increase his influence over transfer policy at the club so as to secure the recruits he is all too well aware he still needs. Brian will go about his business with justified self-belief – and apparently with the enthusiasm and loyalty of his playing staff – whatever the mood of the support may happen to be in the light of results good or bad. And yet it’s still important that he has the confidence, belief and full backing of the fans. If that’s not the case then a slight pressure can start to build which is felt not necessarily in the manager’s office but perhaps more tellingly in the boardroom. The longer we can all pull together, the better for the good of the club as a whole and for the manager’s chances of reviving his sleeping giant.

So it’s important that Leeds do bounce back from this latest setback and – if possible – put together a few results to edge back towards the play-off zone. This would keep the pot of supporter positivity and optimism bubbling away nicely as well as regaining the momentum of a season that had been jogging along nicely. Optimism and positivity are still very much on the agenda of the knowledgeable fan who knows his or her stuff. The only two defeats have been narrow affairs, against teams that were in the top-flight last year – and both results could so easily have been different. Rudy Austin’s piledriver would have earned a point against QPR and Pearce’s horrible miss should instead have secured a tasty victory for Brian at former club Reading. Admittedly, “what-ifs” butter no parsnips, but they DO serve to show that the team is not getting played off the park, even by the pedigree end of the division. At this stage of the season that’s no idle claim, and we can still be optimistic and feel that the future looks bright.

Saturday’s game at home to Burnley is a chance to re-launch the good ship Leeds on its voyage towards what we all hope and think could be a place in the end of season play-offs. Three points are eminently achievable against the Lancastrians, despite their own decent form and comfortable win over Birmingham on Tuesday. It will be interesting also to see if Noel Hunt can maintain his steady improvement; a goal from him could be just the kick-start he needs not only for his own sake, but also for the team as a whole. Elland Road on Saturday could just be his stage and, if that proves to be the case, the charge towards the top could be back on again.

2 Comments

Posted in Football, Leeds United, Sport

Tagged Adam le Fondre, Brian McDermott, Burnley, Football, Jason Pearce, Leeds United, Noel Hunt, play-offs, promotion, Reading, soccer

Can Liverpool’s Suarez “Do a Cantona” on Comeback Against Man U? – by Rob Atkinson

Posted on 17/09/2013 | Leave a comment

Sic ’em, Suarez!

There was a feeling of inevitability all those years ago when Eric Cantona, enfant terrible and martial arts amateur extraordinaire, returned from his lengthy FA-imposed ban for being the true incarnation of “The Shit Who Hit The Fan”, to face the old enemies of Man U. Liverpool were the visitors, before an expectant crowd of Devon day-trippers at the Theatre of Hollow Myths. The script was written, and although the scousers aimed to poop Eric’s party by taking the lead, the man from Marseilles had the last laugh, ensuring a draw for his side with – you’ve guessed it – a penalty.

All of that was a long, long time ago – but these old rivals have memories like elephants (and backsides to match, for many of them). So Cantona’s ban, comeback and celebratory strike will not have been forgotten by fans of either side. Even though the personnel will be almost entirely different, give or take a superannuated Ryan Giggs, there will be many who might wonder if that old script might not be taken out and dusted off. Man U host Liverpool in the League Cup next week. Suarez is available for the first time since being banned for biting without due care and attention. He’d love to take a chunk out of Man U’s season – wouldn’t he just. Could it really, actually happen?

Think of it: Suarez is the man that the Man U faithful love to hate after his run-in with their own less-than-likable Patrice Evra – and the subsequent Handshakegate Scandal. All very petty and handbags of course, as matters relating to bruised Man U egos tend to be. But these things matter when you have a close rivalry based on mutual antipathy between Merseyside and, erm, most of the South of England. Can Suarez, like Cantona so many years before, make his long-awaited comeback from durance vile, in the media glare – and, again like Cantona, stuff it up a hated enemy?

There would be such a neat reciprocity about it, if it actually came to pass. How funny, how satisfactory it would be. Cantona made his mark at the Liverpool fans’ end of the Theatre of Hollow Myths – could Suarez possibly end up laughing in the faces of the Stretford End?

I have a great respect for football omens and fate in general. It’s tempting to look up the odds against Liverpool to win 2-1, Suarez to score at any time. Anything above 10-1 might just tempt me to have a punt on that. Come on, Liverpool!!

Turks Stuffed Good and Proper as Real Madrid Cruise in Istanbul – by Rob Atkinson

Posted on 17/09/2013 | 3 comments

Galascum – Thoroughly Stuffed

It’s a rare night indeed when a Leeds United fan can summon up even a passing regard for the pouting, strutting enigma that is Cristiano Ronaldo, late of the Scum, currently vying for top-dollar merchant with Gareth Bale at the Bernebeu, Madrid. If ever there was such a night though, this is it. Ronaldo ambled through the first hour of this match and then simply seized the home team by the scruff of the neck and tore them to pieces, scoring three times. With a brace from Benzema to add to Isco’s opener, it was the Winker’s hat-trick that inflicted the most agony on the hapless Turks, thereby giving any watching Leeds fan a rare treat.

Oddly, the various TV companies that cover the Champions League seem to have a fairly benevolent attitude towards the Istanbul club, despite the notorious nature of their fans in general and of course the tragic loss suffered by Leeds United – the club and the fans – back in the spring of the year 2000. Since then, there have been other instances of crowd behaviour that would disgrace a bunch of neolithic savages, and there are of course the perpetual occurrences of throat-slitting gestures, “Welcome to Hell” banners and so on and so forth. In short, this is a club that glories in its own tastelessness and lack of civilised behaviour – and yet we’re always hearing the commentators going on about the incredible atmosphere, the amazing fans, ad nauseam. It’s enough to make your ears ache if you’re a Leeds fan, or indeed any decent-minded football fan – but there you go.

We’ll never know what the media attitude to them would have been if it had been a different United suffering on that awful night 13 years ago – but it’s hard to avoid the conclusion that it would have been somewhat different. As it is, the tragedy of Istanbul 2000 seems to have been conveniently swept under the carpet, and the media appear to take delight in the progress of a club that deserve nothing but ill. Still – we’re used to these double standards, and we take our comfort where we can.

Speaking of which, tonight was a delightful exhibition of Galascum getting well and truly thrashed by an awesome Madrid team. The incredible, unprecedented feeling of actually enjoying a Ronaldo hat-trick – one particularly special strike in there, too – was a novelty that will possibly not be repeated. Not unless Madrid dish this sort of treatment out again in the reverse fixture, anyway.

So for once I come not to bury Ronaldo, but to praise him; truly is it said that “mine enemy’s enemy is my friend”. I still can’t stand the sight of Mr. Ronaldo, to be strictly honest. He still has the kind of face you want to smack, still looks the sort of player that belongs with those other self-adoring prima donnas at the Theatre of Hollow Myths. But he did Leeds United, Madrid and – whatever the mealy-mouthed hypocrites in the media might think – the whole of football a service tonight. All those goals. All that humiliation for a hopelessly-outclassed Galascum. Even the late and meaningless home consolation scored to a nearly-empty stadium before Ronaldo administered the coup de grâce with the sixth. All those glum fans who had started out so cocky and full of hope. Have it.

It was just one of those nights tonight. For the past decade and more, I’ve winced every time I’ve seen that awful club with those disgusting fans getting anywhere, doing anything positive like winning a game, and hearing the British media fawning over them. Tonight it was different. Tonight, they copped for it, big time. Tonight it was a case of “Hala Madrid” – or even “Hala Ronaldo” – just for tonight. 6-1 – SIX bloody one. Well done, Real – and thank you, from a Leeds United fan.

3 Comments

Posted in Football, History, Leeds United, Life, Sport, Uncategorized

Tagged Champions League, Cristiano Ronaldo, death, fans, Galatasaray, Istanbul, justice, Leeds United, media, Real Madrid, Schadenfreude, soccer, Turkey, UK Football

McDermott Seeks Re-birth of “Scary” Leeds United – by Rob Atkinson

Posted on 17/09/2013 | 12 comments

Scary Leeds Salute Their Scary Fans

A lot has been heard of the recent GFH mantra since the joyous ousting of Ken Bates – in an understandable effort to erase the nightmares of the Uncle Ken era from supporters’ minds, the new owners have been telling us “Forget the past – it’s all about the future”. All very well, and definitely positive in its way – but surely, a club like Leeds needs to hang on to some of its past, the grand old traditions, the glorious history?

One man certainly thinks so, and you could hardly find anyone the fans are more likely to look up to right now. Boss Brian McDermott is setting about sorting the future out, alright – but he also has a wise and admiring eye on the past.

One manifestation of this is the restoration of a pre-match ritual that many, including myself, remember very fondly. When I first started going to watch Leeds, you knew what to expect before kick-off at Elland Road. The other lot would shamble out, they’d head to their allotted territory at the Elland Road end of the stadium and then kick a ball or two around between them sheepishly, aware that they had to face the Leeds United side and just about the most hostile and partisan crowd anywhere. Then the Kop and the other United parts of the ground would start the chant “Bring on the Champions!”, before the warriors finally entered the arena.

Out they would file, United, purposeful and focused, clad all in white, muscular and determined. With not a glance to the cowering opposition, scattered in their preparatory warm-up, the Leeds United team stayed together as they arrived in the centre-circle. Here they would line up, raise their right arms in unison to salute the faithful, staying in disciplined line as each man, arm still aloft, turned to greet every section of the support to roars of approbation.

It used to make the hairs stand up on the back of my neck, this telling statement of intent, this confident, almost arrogant, affirmation of superiority. It pre-dated the “We Are Leeds” terrace chant, but that message still came across, loud and clear. It was unique, special. It was Leeds, Leeds, Leeds alone – and there was no other team like us.

But then, it just stopped.

It probably took me a few matches to fully appreciate the awful truth that the pre-match salute had indeed been abandoned. I was absolutely gutted; it was a time of transition and we were not the force we had been – but this betrayal of tradition, as it seemed to me, was the ultimate acceptance that the Glory Days of Mighty Leeds – Super Leeds – were finally gone. Gone for good, as far as I knew. Fans had much less of a voice back then; there might have been some protests, but nothing was done.

But now we have Brian McDermott. Softly-spoken but dedicated and committed Brian, fiercely determined and one with the fans Brian. Brian who wasted no time in distancing himself from his lifelong ambition to manage the Republic of Ireland, declaring instead that he has a job to do at Leeds United, a job he’s proud and thrilled to have and one where he’s single-minded in his resolve to succeed.

Now this new idol of the Leeds support, long-suffering and battered as we’ve been over the past disastrous decade, is giving us back some of the glorious pieces of our past we’d thought lost forever. And he’s started with the Leeds salute as practiced by King Billy & Co all those years ago. As a symbol of not only a new era, but a new era that is intended to re-awaken past glories and return us to the top of the game, this could hardly be more potent or evocative. Not for the first time in his short career at Leeds, Brian has hit the nail unerringly on the head.

What can you say about a man like that, who’s come into the club as a stranger and so completely fastened on to the Leeds United legend that he knows, instinctively what we all want, what Leeds United needs. How can you express what it means to us all? He knows what’s needed and he acts upon it.

Results-wise, achievement-wise, we’re at the beginning of a very long journey. There will be pitfalls on the road ahead, set-backs in our progress, times when we all doubt where we’re heading. Money is so integral to success now and Brian McDermott will rely on his board for support as he bids to succeed. But steps like this – just the simple restoration of an iconic tradition – speak volumes for the man and his ability to feel what it is to be Leeds. He loved that old salute, he says. He loved seeing them walk out like soldiers, he remembers it being “a bit scary”. McDermott knows what makes a club tick, he’s in tune with this club’s legends.

Brian McDermott is already well on the way to becoming a Leeds United Legend himself.

12 Comments

Posted in Football, Leeds United, Life, Sport

Tagged Brian McDermott, Football, history, Leeds salute, Leeds United, legends, soccer, Super Leeds, tradition

Still No Cure for West Ham’s Chronic Travel Sickness – by Rob Atkinson

Posted on 15/09/2013 | 8 comments

So West Ham’s winless run of games away from East London goes on. It’s six months now since the travelling band of ‘Apless ‘Ammers returned home with a three point haul and they rarely looked like ending that dismal run at St Mary’s. A point gained at Southampton however is a bit of a coupon-buster in itself, given the Irons’ current poverty of goals, meaning that a clean sheet is usually a must to avoid defeat. Today’s shut-out was owed massively to inspired keeper Jussi Jaaskelainen who pulled off several fantastic saves to help keep his side in the contest. At the other end, the Hammers had to wait until late on for a decent chance to add to their paltry output of TWO league goals so far this season. Sadly, when the chance came, it fell to defender James Collins whose finish could charitably be described as wayward. As the ball ballooned over the bar from Collins’ wild swipe, it was obvious that a much-needed victory was not to be.

The fact is, though that, while the Hammers have scored only two goals all season, they have conceded only one. This grim fare is not the kind of thing that older devotees of the one-time “Academy of Football” were brought up on, but if you don’t let goals in – you don’t lose. A good few victories will be needed, however, to add to a bland diet of dull draws if the Hammers are to survive for another year at this exalted level. Where the goals will come from to provide those victories, with battering-ram Andy Carroll seemingly as injury-prone as Captain Scarlet, is somewhat of a vexed question.

Sam Allardyce divided his time after the match between praising his defence, moaning about a red card not issued to the Saints’ allegedly sinful Morgan Schneiderlin and proclaiming his happiness with a point – despite a forbidding run of fixtures coming up. West Ham have the air of a club about to suffer from a nasty case of second-season syndrome; if they fail to address their striking deficiencies this will pile far too much pressure of a defence that creaked but did not yield today. Whether worried fans of an East End persuasion can hope to rely on that holding true in the tests ahead must be open to some doubt. With due respect to Southampton, it is in fixtures like these that the Hammers must seek their survival points. The major players in the division are likely to roll over them without undue difficulty, so if the Hammers fail to benefit from the dog-eat-dog mentality of the league’s lower reaches they may well find that they’re dropping back over the fateful edge of that dreaded precipice and back into the Championship come next May.

8 Comments

Posted in Football, Sport

Tagged Football, Premier League, soccer, Southampton, West Ham United

Millwall “Thugs” Warm Up for Annual Leeds-Baiting Event – by Rob Atkinson

Posted on 15/09/2013 | 192 comments

Members of Famous Millwall Firm “The Grinning Apes” Bravely Taunt Leeds Fans From A Distance

It was a pretty normal day yesterday at the New Den, home of the world famous heroes of sub-primates everywhere, Millwall Football Club. Nothing out of the ordinary. The usual crushing home defeat for the toothless Lions as they sit glumly at the bottom of the league. The usual anthropological posturing from the pseudo-hardmen in the stands as they pelted a Derby County player with missiles while the stewards stood by and watched. The usual lone moron invading the pitch, taking a swing at Derby manager Nigel Clough and then running away, his comical waddle across the pitch and into the stand opposite unhindered by any pursuit. All of this IS fairly usual for that blot on the football landscape Millwall FC. But that’s not to say it’s tolerable in the civilised world outside of Bermondsey.

The fact of the matter is, it’s time something serious was done about Millwall. Like their fans’ heroes abroad, Turkey’s Galatasaray, they seem to get away with behaviour year after year that would see certain other clubs castigated in the press, questions asked in the House, the supporters as a body branded as “vile animals” by some over-sensitive soul in Sheffield 6. None of this happens to those cheeky rapscallions of Millwall, as they carry on blithely dispensing their own particular brand of hatred and violence – and the authorities turn a blind eye, cock a deaf ear, remain dumb in every sense of that word.

In a couple of weeks, Millwall will “welcome” Leeds United, its players, staff and fans, to the dubious delights of their Meccano-designed stadium. As is usual every time these clubs have met since the murder of two Leeds fans in Istanbul, certain of the Millwall bright lads will seek to glory in that slaughter, posturing from a safe distance in their proudly-worn Galatasaray shirts, making throat-slitting gestures with the sincere intent of provoking as much anger, misery and disgust as they can. To call these intellectual voids “apes” is really an insult to lower primates everywhere – waste of DNA is a more accurate term to use. Their forthcoming exhibition of mind-numbing idiocy is as predictable as yesterday’s humbling at the hands of away-day specialists Derby County was. These cretins are not the type to let their team’s woeful inadequacy prevent them from enjoying the day out at Millwall in their own, perverted fashion.

If anyone should feel that this is pretty rich coming from a Leeds fan – well, I’d say to you, go and listen to David Jones, he’ll sing a song more to your liking. In the interests of strict fairness though, it should be pointed out that when our own idiot, Aaron Cawley, attacked the Wednesday keeper at Hillsborough, he was roundly condemned by the vast majority of Leeds fans, who assisted the authorities in locating the silly little boy concerned. David Jones, in branding the support “vile animals” – all of them, every single one, he emphasised – seemed much more concerned by chants directed at himself than for his traumatised goalkeeper. Such is the precious ego of Jones. But that shouldn’t hide the fact that the Leeds situation was about an individual, whereas when Millwall fans get going, it’s en masse – as far as their dwindling crowds permit.

The behaviour of the New Den home fans in a fortnight when Leeds are in town will be monitored and noted. It will be a massive surprise if they fail to crow and gloat over the blood spilled in Turkey all those years ago, but it would be a very welcome surprise. Chickens will not be counted, breath will not be held. I fully expect the Millwall boneheads to disgrace themselves and their club again, such disgrace being measured by accepted standards in football as a whole. The standards that apply in this particular part of London, on the other hand, appear to be a good century or so behind the times.

If the Millwall fans do manage at the Leeds match to show themselves up, yet again, for the tasteless jokes that they are, and this only a fortnight after yesterday’s appalling display of violence and anarchy, then it’s time the complacent authorities actually got off their lazy backsides and did something. If that something amounted to a final warning before the expulsion of Millwall from football upon the next repetition of such behaviour, then so be it. Football as a whole would be a better place, a more acceptable environment, without Millwall FC.

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Posted in Football, Leeds United, Life, Sport

Tagged crowd violence, David Jones, Derby County, Football, Galatasaray, hooligans, Leeds United, Millwall, Nigel Clough, Sheffield Wednesday, soccer

Moyes Faithfully Following Fergie Methods to Achieve Success – by Rob Atkinson

Posted on 14/09/2013 | 5 comments

One thing stood out plain and clear from today’s insipid victory for Man U over newly-promoted Crystal Palace – it’s going to be the tried and trusted route to success for Devon’s finest, especially at the Theatre of Hollow Myths.

It was the classic Man U home game against stubborn opposition bent on making things tough for the media’s darlings. Batter away, secure a dodgy penalty and if at all possible, have a complaisant ref who’s well-briefed enough to be aware of his responsibilities and who will obligingly reduce the away side to ten men, consigning the rest of the game to the status of a non-contest. It’s a reliable enough game plan, though depending heavily upon Ashley Young’s talent for ending up prone in the penalty area, regardless of where the alleged foul took place. It’s happened time and time again, prompting embarrassed “hem hems” in the commentary box, and a general air in the press of hoping that people won’t notice, no matter how often the same scenario plays itself out. It’s depressing, but modern football is modern business, and markets speak louder than words. Those shirts and the other Man U tat won’t just sell itself, don’t you know – and there’s warehouses full of the stuff all over the hotbeds of support across the South of England.

As they travel back to London after the match, fans of both teams might agree on one thing: Old Trafford isn’t quite the place it used to be. Time was it would be described as a fortress, albeit a pretty quiet one. But there’s always been that suspicion that “fortress” was not a very apt description, indeed that “bent crap table with loaded dice” would be far more accurate, the local management usually ending up happy, by hook or by crook. That reputation preceded Fergie, but certainly flourished under his tyrannical reign, his use of bluster, threats and intimidation to ensure that press and officials were all singing from the Man U song sheet.

As I’ve already mentioned elsewhere, new boss Moyes appears to have shed his former “quite nice guy” image, and reinvented himself as a Fergie Lite. Given the relative paucity of quality in his current squad, as compared to the likes of Liverpool, Chelsea, Arsenal and City, this would appear to be his best bet – take those boys on at Football, and the modern-day, post-Taggart Man U would be in danger of some humiliating batterings. Already, Moyes’ paranoid pre-season whinge about having to play three Big Clubs in their first five fixtures appears prophetic. Two home points dropped against Chelsea, defeat away to the historical masters Liverpool. Better then, surely, to rely on the admittedly shady measures that brought so much undeserved success over the past twenty years of Murdoch-sponsored domination. After all – what’s a global franchise supposed to do? It’s win or, quite possibly, bust.

Whether a continuation of the same old, same old routine down Salford way can really take a sub-standard Man U squad to their accustomed honours must be open to doubt. The transfer window was a sobering experience for die-hard Nitid devotees from Torquay to Jakarta. City have secured diamonds, Arsenal have a pearl in Ozil, Liverpool are improved beyond all recognition and Chelsea have The Special One – ’nuff said. Man U meanwhile experienced a long and ongoing tragedy of a window, a car-crash experience of humiliating failure and rejection – ending up with someone in Fellaini whose best chance of a major role at the Theatre of Hollow Myths would appear to be sticking his head down the toilet and giving that U-bend a good going-over. Even Champions League pariahs Tottenham fared much better than that, and could well be dark horses for a top-four place this time around, particularly if favourable officiating and Moyes’ pallid impersonation of Nasty Alex isn’t enough to raise Man U out of sub-top six mediocrity.

And what if Man U really do fail – as their lack of quality and surfeit of internal strife might suggest they will? What then for former nice-guy Moyes? Is he destined to be the 21st Century Wilf McGuiness? Will “Sir” Fergie be tempted back to reprise Busby’s early 70’s attempted rescue act? It all remains to be seen, but the harrassed and worried glory-hunters on their long trip back to the south can be reassured after today’s standard-issue double-whammy of penalty and red card against opposition who threatened to frustrate them, that some things at least haven’t changed.