Tag Archives: Manchester City

Gary Neville asks Manchester City fan Noel Gallagher to sign guitar, ends up defaced

Gary Neville got sort of what he asked for – but really more than he bargained for – when he asked City fan Noel Gallagher to sign his guitar. Wherever your sympathies might lie – it was rather a dumb thing to ask for, wasn’t it??

As a Leeds fan and self-confessed Neville-hater, I confess to a juvenile level of snortling amusement.

EXCLUSIVE: New Toure Contract as City Say “Sorry, Yaya” – by Rob Atkinson

Touré in an incredible sulk

Touré in an incredible sulk

Desperate to deflect attention from talk of a sensational move for Ivory Coast midfielder Yaya Touré from Manchester City to Leeds United, the English champions have taken the unprecedented step of revealing proposed contract details to Life, Leeds United, the Universe & Everything”.

In a move calculated to appease their traumatised star, Manchester City have drawn up a new contract for Yaya Touré. The midfield powerhouse had been “hurt” by the club’s failure to say “Happy Birthday” as he celebrated that milestone 31st year. Touré, it is said, was grievously offended by the lack of respect, cake and a bouncy castle to mark such an important anniversary.

Anxious to placate their iconic superstar the Champions have moved fast to put together a new package which should keep Touré at the Etihad until he grows up. Despite hints from the player’s agent, Dimitri “Meerkat” Seluk, that his client might pout, cry and storm out of City, slamming the door, the club itself is guardedly optimistic that the new deal will be a tantrum-breaker.

The details of the proposed 4 year agreement are as follows:

  • £350,000 a week basic salary plus bonuses and a sweets allowance
  • Staff and players to line up before training and applaud Yaya every morning as he dons his personal training bib
  • Yaya to be wished a very happy birthday by all club employees by 8am on the morning of next and subsequent birthdays for term of contract – cake to be agreed year on year
  • Jelly and ice cream to be provided by club on Yaya’s birthday.  And balloons
  • Special Christmas “Santa” Clause:  Christmas will be marked by a special, gift-packed Christmas Stocking, to be left on the foot of his bed while he’s asleep by the manager dressed in a blue Father Xmas outfit. Christmas presents to be left under Yaya’s personal Christmas Tree at the Etihad, and staff will gather to watch him open them.  Christmas dinner will be turkey dinosaurs
  • Yaya will train as and when he sees fit, for which consideration he agrees not to have a tantrum or flounce out.  Training can be missed on any given morning upon receipt of a note from his mum

The new contract will remain on the table for the time being, as Yaya is off out to play with his mates in Brazil.  In the period before the contract is signed, all parties accept that Yaya will continue his present sulk, and that he will be pampered and cajoled as required until he is ready to be a good boy and sign on the dotted line.

Yaya Touré is 31 years and one week old.

 

Leeds Title Retrospective: Villa & Hammers Could Still Make Liverpool Champions – by Rob Atkinson

The Last Champions

The Last Champions

The more years that pass since Leeds United’s 1992 title success, making them the Last Champions – it’s 22 years now – the more the myth is perpetuated by the Man U-friendly media that it was the collapse under pressure of the Pride of Devon that year which denied them the ultimate accolade.  In short – and as echoed in Alex Ferguson’s bile-ridden summary of the season – Leeds United didn’t win the League – Man U lost it.

There had been a lot of talk throughout that last season of pre-Murdoch football about how “fitting” it would be for Man U to at last end up as top dogs after 25 years of hurt (or amusement, depending on your point of view).  There was nauseating speculation about the date that the title would finally “come home to OT”.  Somewhere in Greater Manchester, there is, in all likelihood, a warehouse which still contains souvenir candles, t-shirts and sundry other tawdry tat, prematurely commemorating the 1992 Championship success that never happened for Ferguson’s nearly men. There was a fair degree of confidence in the air, as you can see.

In the end, it wasn’t fitting – because Man U weren’t good enough and Leeds claimed a deserved honour.  The Whites finished top by four clear points, having won most games and lost fewest.  They scored the second-highest number of goals and conceded the second fewest to end up with the best goal difference overall.  Any way you care to look at it, Leeds were worthy champions – but that doesn’t stop the media and others from pushing the “unlucky Man U” myth. And the fact is, as well – the winning margin for the Champions could – and should – have been far greater.

Setting aside the well-remembered banana skins that Leeds contrived to skid wildly on away from home as the season got to its final act – those thrashings at Man City and QPR and a pallid defeat at Oldham – Leeds also managed to let slip four seemingly-vital points at fortress Elland Road, to mar an otherwise unstoppable progress in their home campaign.  In the last eight home games, Leeds won six and drew two.  The only teams to escape from LS11 with anything at all were Aston Villa and West Ham – coincidentally the two clubs Liverpool are now relying upon to upset the Manchester City apple-cart, and deliver a long-overdue title to Anfield.

Those two 0-0 draws at Elland Road served, at the time, to increase the conviction that we were destined to fall short at the end of the season. They were games of missed opportunities, including a rare missed penalty by the normally infallible Gordon Strachan – and those four dropped home points could well have been fatal in the final reckoning.  But as things turned out, the two agonising draws served only to limit the final margin of success, proving that then, as now, it was impossible to call correctly the twists and turns of a title head-to-head.

In the end, it was Man U that bottled it – as Liverpool appear to have done at home to Chelsea and at Crystal Palace – and it was Leeds United who finally held their nerve to close the season out with a series of coldly nerveless performances, culminating in that crazy, decisive match at Sheffield United.

Now, in the moment of Liverpool’s blackest despair, it is those two claret-and-blue clubs which hold the key to the Reds’ remaining shreds of hope. Manchester City have to face the challenge of obtaining four points from the two home games left to them, and thereby clinch a title that was Liverpool’s to lose until these last couple of weeks.

City may well be without their talisman Aguero, but of course they have a squad packed with quality even without the quicksilver Argentinian.  But in his absence, City always seem that bit more more ponderous in attack, that few percentage points less lethal than when he is in there and performing at his best.

Neither Villa nor West Ham have anything to play for other than pride; nor indeed do they have anything to fear.  They may well set out to frustrate the home team in these two Etihad encounters – and in both games, the longer it remains goalless, the more Manchester City would become nervous and doubtful.  The fans would sit there, getting edgy – thinking “typical City”. It’s unlikely, but it’s not impossible.

Liverpool, ultimately, will have only themselves to blame if they do end up missing out on what was a golden chance to be Champions again – after so long a time without that once perennial accolade.  The defence has not been good enough and there has been, at times, an unforgivable naivety of approach made worse by shattering individual errors.  A draw was good enough at home to Chelsea, but it was thrown away.  A 3-0 win at Palace would have put the pressure on Man City – but a gung-ho quest for even more goals opened the back door, and the Pulis-inspired Palace nipped in three times to deny the Reds that victory.

It would take a heart of stone not to feel regret and sympathy for the sobbing, devastated double Player of the Year Suarez; he deserves far better from what has been a magical season for him.  And Gerrard, too, deserves more than he looks likely to get.  The list of mediocre players with Premier League medals is a long one, the list of greats who lack one is somewhat shorter.  The injustice of that will not be lost on Gerrard, a player whose fierce desire to be the best has been etched in every line of his being lately; but who is likely, in a vicious twist of fate, to be the man who carries the can for Liverpool pulling up short of the line.

All these players and their team-mates can do now, is wait – and hope.  If Aston Villa – notorious for blowing hot and cold this season – can turn it on at City and claim a highly unlikely win, then the Reds’ fate would be back in their own hands come Sunday.  They would be one home victory over Newcastle from recapturing the Holy Grail; given that vastly improbable last chance, you sense they would not squander it at any price.

Now that Liverpool manager Brendan Rodgers has played his last card in the game of raising the pressure stakes, by publicly conceding the title, City will be as well aware as anyone that a banana skin awaits them on Wednesday, with another beyond that on Sunday.  They’re the same two home-ground banana skins that Leeds United so nearly slipped up on all those years ago in 1992. Can Villa and the Hammers throw a spanner in the works for real this time?  

Will Everton Make a Title Gift to Liverpool? – by Rob Atkinson

Chelsea’s immaculate win at Anfield sees them hang on in the Premier League title race but, in truth, it’s of more real use to Manchester City than it is to themselves – despite another touchline scamper of triumph from The Poorly One, Jose Mourinho.

Though City won at Palace today, they will still need to get a result at Everton, who are themselves clinging on to receding hopes of Champions League qualification. This is assuming, of course, that Liverpool can now win their last two matches of the season.

It may very well be that, if Everton can deny City at Goodison, they will have gift-wrapped a 19th top division title for their deadly local rivals. How that would go down in the Blue half of Merseyside is anyone’s guess.

I’d still back Liverpool – and I’m sure that if they do need a massive favour from the Blues – then the Reds will be suitably grateful.

Gerrard Rallies Whole Country Behind Kop Title Assault – by Rob Atkinson

Steven Gerrard inspires the troops

Steven Gerrard inspires the troops

Most football clubs have those quirky, curious “Did you realise…?” facts to relate, things that make you go “Really? Well, I never!”, or words to that effect. Leeds United, in all probability, have just as many as any other club, if not more. For instance: Did you realise… that Leeds United have been Champions more recently than mighty Liverpool, the greatest Champions of them all?  The way things are looking, this is one particular fact whose days might well be numbered.  And, although as a Leeds fan I’m rightly proud of such a pleasing statistic. it’s not before time for it to be consigned to the dustbin of history.

Liverpool were perennial champions for most of my teens and twenties, when my beloved Leeds were banished to the shadowy hinterland of the game, much as they are now.  It’s a sort of nostalgic feeling, then, to look at the top flight table and see them sat there again, on their accustomed perch, leading the way. A successful Liverpool is a reminder of happier days, when the game was not so estranged from the fans, when commercial interests still came second to battle and glory on the field.  Nowadays, the commercial tail wags the football dog quite mercilessly; everything is subordinate to the over-riding preoccupation with making more and more money – with the fans being fleeced left, right and centre.

If the real Reds of Anfield do go on to clinch a first title for twenty-four years, then a large chunk of the credit must go to their long-serving skipper and midfield driving force, Steven Gerrard.  He was to the fore again last weekend as Liverpool beat Manchester City in a pulsating game of quality and character from both sides.  Gerrard played a captain’s part throughout the match and – significantly – directly after the final whistle.  As he gathered the players into a post-match huddle, you could plainly see him ramming home the message: the job is not done, we need the same performance again in the remaining games.  His face, contorted with fatigue and determination, had resolve and desire writ large in every line, his commitment radiating from every fibre of his being and into the less experienced team-mates around him.  It was a battle-cry, a rallying call. Gerrard will not permit performances to wane, nor heads to drop.  He will lead those lads to ultimate success, if he possibly can.  It was an inspirational sight to see.

There are not that many Steven Gerrards left in the game today.  Not enough warriors faithful to a cause, thinking not of the footballers’ notorious “bottom line”, but of being written into history as The Best, on behalf of a club they count it a privilege to serve.  It’s far more common to see spoiled prima donnas like Wayne Rooney, sulking on 250 grand a week until he’s mollified by a wage rise of a mere £2.6 million.  Or indeed my comparatively humble lot at Leeds United, who had the immense “stress” of wages deferral just a few weeks back, when the takeover was in flux – and found they simply could not kick a ball straight or even try a leg, most of them, because of this financial issue.  In the modern game, money is King – to a far greater extent than it ever used to be.  So, the fans can go hang, professional pride can whistle.  All that matters is making sure that money – thousands a week, even at Championship level – keeps rolling into those fat bank accounts.  When that’s sorted out, why – the players are prepared to try again, Blackpool are beaten, and what would have been a shameful, disgraceful relegation struggle is warded off.

Gerrard, in common with most footballers in the top two divisions, has more money than he will ever know what to do with.  Money – you can tell – was the very last thing on his mind as he exhorted his team-mates to a replication of their fantastic performance against City – first when Liverpool face Norwich, and then after that, in all the rest of their remaining games.  If anyone can inspire those players to the heights they hit at Anfield, then Gerrard is that man. The successful team pattern at Liverpool FC has been laid down by manager Brendan Rodgers – and he’s done a brilliant job.  But without his trusty lieutenant on the field – without that 90 minute motivator demanding effort and commitment from all around him – things might not look as rosy as they now do for the league leaders.

The midweek games were kind to them, too.  City slipped up at home to Sunderland in an unlikely lapse.  They and Chelsea remain a threat, but both have trips to Merseyside to negotiate and neither will be taking it for granted that they will now find it easy to deny Liverpool a long-awaited first Premier League crown.

As a Leeds United fan, I have no particular Premier League axe to grind.  As long as Man U don’t win it, I’m happy – and from that point of view, it looks as though I’ll be happy for a good while to come.  Arsenal are my favourites, generally speaking, from the élite end of football.  Until my own United return to the big-time, my interest in who wins what in the shake-up at the end of each season is generally limited to seeing who’s best able to deny the Pride of Devon more tarnished silverware.  But I have to say I’d love to see Liverpool win the league, and for a few reasons.  For their fans, who have suffered over the past two decades while their glory faded behind them; for the family and friends of the 96 who died at Hillsborough a quarter of a century ago, and for the 96 themselves – and for Steven Gerrard and his free-flowing, attacking team.

Liverpool as champions would be a credit to the English game.  Up front and in terms of the supply to their attackers, they have all the attributes and talent of a top-class international side.  Further back, they are merely good or very good – but in the creative and finishing part of the game, they have the stuff of greatness.  And the thing is, they’ll only get better.  So I shall look forward to the climax of this Title race with plenty of interest and in the hope that – just as things used to be when I was but a lad – Liverpool wind up on top again.  And I don’t mind in the least that I’d no longer be able to boast about my beloved Leeds being Champions more recently than the Reds.  Because it’s time for a return to the game’s real values – values that Gerrard epitomises better than perhaps any other current player.

Seriously – if there’s anybody out there who would begrudge Steve Gerrard a league title winner’s medal – I doubt that they have any real appreciation of what this game is all about.  If ever a team deserve a Title, it’s Liverpool this season.  And if ever a skipper deserved his medal – it’s Steven George Gerrard.

Jack Rodwell Could Be Cellino’s Latest Leeds Masterstroke – by Rob Atkinson

Jack Rodwell - Leeds United bound?

Jack Rodwell – Leeds United bound?

The identity of the fifth loanee – five is the maximum allowed – being pursued by Leeds is the subject of much speculation and now some increasingly strong internet rumours. If the Twitter chatter is to be believed, then Man City’s Jack Rodwell – young, talented, English and internationally honoured – could be about to don the famous white shirt until the end of the season.

The thing is, these days, Twitter rumours frequently do come true. Butland and Wickham – two quality recruits we would have dismissed as fanciful a few short weeks ago – were both accurately tipped in various tweets. Quality is the watchword here. We saw it in Butland against the smoggies. You can see it in Wickham just by trawling through the rage and grief on the Wendies message boards in the wake of that signing.

This influx of quality goes hand in hand with growing evidence that Massimo Cellino – FL approval doubts notwithstanding – is firmly in control at Elland Road. Another sign is the withdrawal of Enterprise Insurance’s drama-queen winding-up petition as Cellino has contemptuously paid off Flowers & Co with some loose change in his back pocket. Wages have been paid on time and in full, despite hopeful rumours in the press that the cupboard is bare down at LS11. And now, we might just be about to see the crowning glory of the Italian’s initial impact at Leeds United.

Looking at the evidence for Rodwell – he’s just what we need, and we’re now just starting to believe we can dare to dream. When Wickham signed, we were thinking, wow – follow that. And then a junior Cellino came out and said “the best is yet to come”. Rodwell is of international pedigree and would give us a fighting chance of the play-offs and advancing Cellino’s agenda by at least one season.

Could it happen? We’re likely to find out soon, this guy moves fast. Somebody else is coming in, and we can confidently expect more quality to enhance our first-choice team. Cellino appears to mean business – watch this space and get ready for a hell of a ride.

Ex-Man U Boss Fergie Still Paranoid Over League Kings Liverpool – by Rob Atkinson

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S’ralex – the lunatic fringe view from the stands.

Alex Ferguson has been mercifully quiet since his retirement, contenting himself in the main with a seat in the stands from which to glare down balefully at the struggles of his hapless and helpless successor, David “Gollum” Moyes.  It’s been a quieter and more peaceful – even saner – game without the rantings of the whisky-nosed old curmudgeon.  Although Moyes’ plight has been pitiful to behold, at least some light has been shed on what was behind the success of virtually the same team last season, which looks so spectacularly inept this time around.  It’s been Fergie all the time it seems; terrifying opponents, refs and FA officials alike into granting his team every advantage they could wish for.  Now that he’s subsided into a brooding and impotent silence, away from the arena itself, the game seems a fairer and cleaner thing, with everyone a lot happier – fans all over Devon and Cornwall and in Milton Keynes who have Man U sympathies always excepted.

The old tyrant’s broken that silence this weekend though, deigning to pronounce upon the Premier League Title race, for which he sees a wider-than-usual field of maybe as many as six possible contenders.  Pushing the margins of credibility, he includes old charges Man U among these contenders, along with the Arsenal, Man City, Chelsea and even Everton and Spurs.  Notable by their absence from this select group of “Fergie’s Favourites” is Liverpool FC, a name that the Govan Gob studiously avoided mentioning, wary perhaps of bringing on an attack of apoplexy.  Clearly, the purple-nosed Taggart clone still has a problem with a club he vowed to “knock off their perch” when he first slithered south all those years ago.  How he failed to do that, despite all those lies, damned lies and statistics, is detailed below.

Let’s face it – Man U fans can crow all they want about 20 titles, but the evidence to confound their plastic claims is there for all to see, like some geological stratum separating the dinosaurs from the mammoths.  That schism dividing the game up to ’92, from the showbiz shenanigans of ’93 onwards, stands out like a Tory at a Foodbank, exposing Man U as the wealth-backed, monopolising opportunists that they are.  Seven titles in their history before Uncle Rupert bought the game for them.  Thirteen in the twenty years after the game went mad for money when, aided by more riches than anyone else, combined with the threat of Fergie to cow refs and officials, the Pride of Devon all but cleaned up in what was no more or less than a game of craps played with the dice heavily loaded in their favour.  And it was all done with such bad grace, another indictment of this new and joyless age we’ve been plodding through.  No gentle wisdom of the Bob Paisley variety – instead we had the sour bile of Ferguson himself and now seemingly a Fergie-Lite clone in the newly growly and grouchy David Moyes.  No loveable old-style hard-man Desperate Dan type like Tommy Smith – we just had the manufactured machismo of Roy Keane, a supposed tough-guy with an assumed snarl and trademark glower, whose typical party trick was to sneak up behind wee Jason McAteer and fell that not-exactly-scary individual with a sly elbow.

The comparisons could go on all day, but the bottom line is that Liverpool at their peak – and it was a hell of a peak – typified all the values of football that some of us remember from a pre-Sky, pre-glitz, pre-greed age when it really was all about a ball.  Now, it’s all about money, and contracts, and egos, and snide bitching to the media if you don’t get all your own way – and lo, we have the champions we deserve – but not, it seems, for very much longer – despite the wishful thinking of a silly and deluded old man.

To apply a conversion rate which sums up the way our game has been degraded in the Fergie/Murdoch era – let’s say that each Premier League (or Premiership, or whatever else it’s been marketed as) is worth maybe half – at the very most – of each proper Football League Championship, won on a level playing field in the days when the game still belonged to us and the world was a happier and more carefree place.  At that rate, Man U are still a good long distance behind Liverpool, which, on the basis of the history of English football as a whole, is precisely where they belong.

Ferguson might choose to ignore the challenge of a newly-invigorated Liverpool, but then again, football knowledge was never the strong point of the Demented One.  For bullying and intimidation, he wouldn’t have had much to learn from Torquemada, but his opinions on the game can safely be set aside in favour of those from saner minds – i.e. just about anyone else.  Meanwhile, it should be emphasised once and for all, for the avoidance of doubt and despite the latest nonsense from S’ralex – Liverpool are still very much The Greatest.

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Man U Still Odds-On to Lose to City at Wembley – by Rob Atkinson

homer_simpson_manchester_united

It’s delicately poised in the League Cup semi-final as Sunderland take a narrow 2-1 lead to the Theatre of Hollow Myths in a fortnight. It’s all up for grabs as to who will get to Wembley to get stuffed by City in what will be seen, now that Man U are out of the FA Cup, as the most glamorous domestic cup final of the season.

This was a tense and scrappy affair, with the Pride of Devon at least able to claim the goal of the evening with Vidic’s header after the interval equalising a Giggs own goal in the first period.

The decisive moment came when ex-City flyer Adam Johnson surged into the Man U area where he was felled by Cleverley. Amazingly, the penalty was given, despite the fact that both Giggs and Rafael were on hand to explain politely to the ref that when Man U are playing, it’s never a penalty against them unless somebody is actually killed. Rafael picked up a yellow card for childish petulance.

Borini converted the spot kick, beating de Gea all ends up – though to be fair, how much penalty practice do Man U keepers get? Rafael was slightly lucky shortly after his petulance booking to escape a second yellow after a blatant foul on goalscorer Borini. The young Brazilian was only spared when the ref noticed what badge he was wearing.

So a narrow lead for Sunderland which they will do well to hang onto in the return leg. The tie is delicately poised at 2-1, but with the possibility of injuries clearing up for Man U and the probability of a penalty or two, you’d have to rank the Pride of Devon as marginal favourites to get handsomely thumped by Manchester’s finest in the showpiece at Wembley.

Leeds Lad James Milner Stars in Champions League “Tale of One City” – by Rob Atkinson

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Milner – star performance

It was a Tale of One City in the Champions League last night, as both Manchester clubs managed to overcome the odds and triumph in their last group games to progress into the knockout stage of the competition.  Leeds United fans – the ones who can cast their minds back to before the start of the nightmarish downhill run to near-oblivion – will have been pleased and not a little proud to see one of our own put in a dominant display against reigning European Champions Bayern Munich.

Milner’s excellent performance for City will have just slightly nibbled away at the extreme edge of exacting the tiniest morsel of revenge for a 38-year-old injustice. Paris 1975 – ’nuff said.  It’s only a crumb of comfort – but still, it was so good to see a lad with Leeds engraved on his heart sticking it up Bayern Munich, whatever shirt he was wearing.  And Milner’s performance last night in the Allianz Arena was one of his very, very best.

It had started out badly for City, patently out-played in the opening movement of what would turn out to be an opus of two halves. Within twelve minutes, Bayern were ahead by two goals – albeit that both were demonstrably offside – and looked in fair shape to inflict utter humiliation on the out-foxed Mancunians.  This pattern held for the first twenty minutes or so, but then City started to edge their way, inexorably, into a game that was becoming more of a contest as they gained some sort of hold in midfield.  On 28 minutes, James Milner made the first of his three crucial interventions, stooping to reach a deep cross beyond the far post and – somehow – angling himself to head it accurately back across the six-yard box where Silva was on hand to finish.  Half time arrived with City one behind, a situation they would have snatched your hand off for after the early lop-sided exchanges.

In the second half, City managed to retain control against a Bayern side who, on this evidence, seem to have a slight weakness for complacency. One of the main guilty parties in that respect was Brazilian defender Dante, an extravagantly-gifted individual who, nevertheless, seems less than keen on some of the one-to-one responsibilities of any effective defender.  He was guilty of a slapdash challenge on Milner deep inside Bayern’s penalty area on 53 minutes.  It would have been relatively simple to jockey the City player until he ran out of room and options, but Dante challenged, fouled – and it was a nailed-on penalty.  Kolarov’s conversion was a mix of placement and power, giving Neuer in the Munich goal not an earthly.  City were level at 2-2, needing an unlikely two further goals to top the group – and Bayern, unable to rid themselves of that two-nil complacency, were rattled and shaken.

In the event, City were doomed to fall just short of winning their group, but the victory that a third goal won them will be an enormous boost, possibly for their season as a whole.  Last season Arsenal won 2-0 here, and they have hardly looked back since.  Such is the size of the achievement; beating Bayern at home is not given to ordinary teams.  When that winner came it was Milner, naturally, who struck the decisive blow.  A right wing cross flew straight through the Munich area, confusing and bypassing two defenders. Milner, advancing from the left on a curving run, managed to open up his body shape to send a first-time right foot shot bending inside Neuer’s left hand post for a finish of beauty and a joy forever.

Bayern looked shattered and bewildered as they first pressed desperately for an equaliser and then played out time in the knowledge that a one-goal defeat would still see them win the group.  Even then, more casual and lackadaisical defending from Dante almost let in sub Negredo for a fourth to complete what would have been a disaster for the Germans.  On the night, they had deservedly been beaten by a City side that had got its act together to great effect – but there is little doubt that Bayern will address their shortcomings and come back strongly, as they did after the Arsenal defeat. Just ask Barcelona and Dortmund about that.

Meanwhile, back in England, the Tale of One City was playing itself out in much less glamorous vein as Man U managed to overcome a Shakhtar Donetsk side which unquestionably out-played them for the bulk of the ninety minutes.  One decisive finish from Phil Jones, a chance dispatched with a striker’s touch and assurance, was the difference between the teams at the final whistle, and Shakhtar went into the Europa League as Man U topped the group.  But this game had been about the away side failing to take advantage of its superior passing and movement, particularly in the first half when their hosts simply couldn’t get near them. Shakhtar had done everything but score, and you couldn’t help but wonder if they really were as good as Man U made them look.

It’s goals that count though and, consummate as they occasionally seemed, Shakhtar have disappeared from this year’s Champions League with only themselves to blame for that. Whether the Pride of Devon progress much further will depend on the draw – normally quite kind to them – and whether they can shake themselves out of the one-paced game they’re currently playing under an increasingly-anxious David Moyes.

On an evening when all of Manchester – as well as the Home Counties/West Country hotbeds of Man U support – had cause to celebrate victory in Europe, it was, more than anything, Jamie Milner’s night.  His display in helping City to a quite magnificent comeback victory was notable to say the least, and should serve to quell a few murmurings that he’s no long quite “at it” for this level. If Milner became available for transfer at any point in the next few years, there would be no shortage of takers – and on this evidence it would be a lucky club indeed that secured his services.  One fond dream of Leeds fans everywhere must be that – if we did secure promotion in the short-term – Milner would perhaps return to Elland Road to be our elder statesman.

How appropriate that would be for the former Elland Road Wunderkind – and what a welcome he would receive.  In the meantime, it did the hearts of the Leeds faithful good to see him battering Bayern, something that must be high on the bucket list of anyone with LUFC in their DNA.  Well played, James Milner – still a great lad and still a class act.

Happy Birthday to Batts, Leeds United’s 90s Midfield Enforcer – by Rob Atkinson

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‘Ave it

Many Happy Returns to David Batty, who celebrates his 45th birthday today and who is fondly remembered by his fans as one of Leeds United’s very favourite sons of the recent past.  Batts was the archetypal Yorkshire Terrier of a midfielder, snapping away in the tussle for possession of the ball, exploiting seemingly endless reserves of energy as he harried his opponents, closing down and chasing – and when he got the ball, he could certainly use it too.  Best remembered for those ferocious challenges, Batty was no mean interceptor of the ball either, and I well remember one time when he nipped in to take the ball neatly off the toes of an opponent, sliding it first time to a White shirt in the enemy area to set up another goal for Leeds.  The creative side of his game was frequently under-estimated by those who saw him as merely a demolition man, but his fellow pros knew better.  Batts commanded respect for his technical ability as much as the granite-hardness of his approach to the game.

ImageIt has to be said that goals weren’t exactly David’s business, although he had a ferocious shot on him with the ability to strike the ball cleanly – “pinging it” as they say in the game.  This talent was sadly seen most often on the training ground, but occasionally he’d catch one in a real game – and when he hit the ball properly, it stayed hit.

The goal I best remember him for was not a spectacular strike, nor did it involve him in an Eddie Gray-style mazy dribble through bewildered opposition defenders.  But it was nonetheless memorable when it happened, because it came at the end of an epic goal drought that had lasted fully four seasons since his last goal for Leeds, ironically against the same opposition in Manchester City.  This gave rise to my favourite Batts quote: “I don’t score many,” he remarked laconically, “but against Man City, I’m prolific.”

The goal that broke the drought saw possibly the wildest celebration for any one goal at Elland Road for many years – with the possible exception of Gordon Strachan’s fabulous and crucial strike against Leicester City in the promotion run-in of 1990.  Even then, Strachan’s goal did not carry the injury toll of Batty’s, the celebration of which reputedly caused broken ankles and concussions as the Gelderd End completely lost its collective head in disbelief. It was simply enough executed: Strachan on the right played a short pass inside to Batty, who was probably only in the area because we were already comfortably in front – and he took one touch to control before finishing clinically to take the roof off the stadium.

ImageThe man himself remarked afterwards that he was taken aback at the sheer intensity of the celebrations – he was mildly chuffed to have scored, of course, but the joy of the Kopites at seeing their long wait ended and their local hero get one at last – it was something to behold.  It’s worth a moment or two to watch it again – click here to do just that. Tony Dorigo’s sumptuous connection on the half-volley for a top-class, top-corner first goal is almost forgotten now, but in any other context we’d still be raving about it. Just look at the crowd behind the goal when Batty’s effort goes in – no wonder there were injuries, and yet you can bet that the afflicted weren’t feeling any pain. Happy memories.

Batts went on to serve with distinction at Blackburn Rovers and Newcastle United after leaving Elland Road; under the misguided transfer policy of the time we replaced him, in effect, with Carlton Palmer – not the best deal ever done.  He came back eventually of course.  It’s widely-known that towards the end of his Newcastle days his team-mates there would point at Elland Road as the coach passed by on the way back to the frozen north, and ask Batts when he was off “home”.  It didn’t last long enough, but it felt good to have the prodigal return.

Happy Birthday, Batts and thanks for the memories of a local lad who made good and wore the colours of Leeds United with pride and passion – a top professional and a Leeds legend.