Tag Archives: Sheffield United

Oldham Board Member on Talent Coming Through Prison System – by Rob Atkinson

Posted on 07/01/2015 | 28 comments

Evans – desperate enough to sign for Oldum

Oldham Athletic director Barry Owen, a former Greater Manchester Police superintendent, has welcomed news that there is an “80% likelihood” of convicted rapist Ched Evans signing for the League One club. Mr Owen, who was also instrumental in Oldham’s decision to sign ex-con Lee Hughes after he had served time for causing death by dangerous driving, was however scathing about the modern prison service and its patchy record of providing cheap players for the Boundary Park outfit.

“Her Majesty’s Prison Service can do better than this”, said the erstwhile top cop. “A club like ours is always looking for value on the field of play, and those who have done their porridge are the kind of likely lads the Athletic should always be looking for, in my view. We’ve now had two good lads coming through the HMP production line, and we’ll be on the lookout for more, if the Home Office can just get their bloody finger out. These guys are cheap as chips – and that’s the bottom line, after all.”

When it was put to Mr Owen that the Evans signing was likely to be even less popular among fans than that of Lee Hughes, he raised an eyebrow. “I don’t really see where you’re coming from, lad. Evans wants to play football, so we’re going to accommodate him, aren’t we? Makes sense. A few faint hearts were all for refusing him a contract – but after all, the lad was unlikely to take no for an answer…”

We put it to the former police officer that any decision to sign Evans might have severe implications for club sponsorship. “Storm in a teacup,” he scoffed. “These things blow over. Look at Bowyer and Woodgate at Leeds United. Proper fuss and bother, but that soon went away. Well, it did when they were transferred away from Leeds, anyway. We’re Oldham, lad. If we were Leeds, I wouldn’t dream of this sort of thing, the League would burn the ground down. Look at the kerfuffle over a bit of duty on a boat. But that’s Leeds, in’t it? We won’t have same sort of fuss here, mark my words.”

So are there no misgivings, no twinges of conscience? “Look lad, don’t be daft. That’s a £3 million striker there, and we could ‘ave him for as little as £400 a week. As long as he’s not actually in a cell, he’ll do for us at that price.”

A Latics Supporters Club spokesman, when asked for his take on the matter, would only reply with a glum but defiantly brief rendition of the club’s one and only song “Come on, Old-um“, before trailing away into the Lancastrian murk.

Barry Owen is 83, though his IQ is a youthful 60.

28 Comments

Posted in Football, Leeds United

Tagged Ched Evans, Jonathan Woodgate, Lee Bowyer, Lee Hughes, Leeds United, Massimo Cellino, Oldham Athletic, prison, rape, Sheffield United, sponsorship

Can Darko’s Leeds Cope with the “Cup Final” Mentality of Local Rivals Rotherham? – by Rob Atkinson

Posted on 12/10/2014 | 36 comments

Huddersfield’s low-key celebrations after edging out Leeds

In the wake of Leeds United’s recent failures on the road against inferior local opposition, it’s well past time to take stock of the problem behind this unwelcome phenomenon, which is set fair to drag us down and keep us away from the top level – if it continues as it has in past campaigns. It’s to be hoped that, in the new Darko Milanic era, things might be different. There were some promising signs against the Wendies the other week, but away from home against pumped-up (yet lower-class) opposition, some fight is what’s sorely needed.

Firstly, let’s put to bed any foolish suggestion that the local opposition aren’t inferior. They are – by definition. Leeds do not and never have in living memory played local derbies where they are the underdog in terms of club size and history. We’ve been the biggest club in Yorkshire – by far the biggest, and the only one with a global profile – for the last fifty years plus. Whatever the relative squad merits – and for 90% of the time, Leeds have possessed demonstrably more accomplished players too – any meeting between Leeds and a smaller Yorkshire club has seen the Elland Road outfit cast as Goliath to some horrible, backstreet David. The real question is – does such superiority of status confer any advantage at all? The answer to that would appear to be a resounding No, and a reminder that, horrible and provincial though David might have been, he still gave Goliath one in the eye.

The extent of the problem may be brought into focus simply by comparing two different sets of results over the past few years. If you look at league games against other Yorkshire teams, together with a selection of upstarts around the country who have a similar chip on the shoulder, as compared with our reasonably regular Cup meetings with Premier League clubs over the past three or four years, the contrast is startling – and it says a lot about what it has taken to motivate our white-shirted heroes.

Taking league games first, and looking at the locals – the likes of Barnsley, the Sheffield clubs, Huddersfield and Hull, together with self-appointed rivals like Millwall – the results have been unacceptably bad. Barnsley in particular have visited embarrassment upon us in match after match, often by a significant margin, whilst keeling over to most other clubs and usually only escaping relegation by the skin of their teeth, prior to their welcome demise last year. Our relatively close West Yorkshire neighbours Huddersfield are nearly as bad for our health. The other season, these two clubs met on the last day, and over the course of ninety minutes, first one and then the other seemed doomed to the drop. In the end, both escaped because of events elsewhere – and what did both sets of fans do to celebrate their shared reprieve? Why, they joined together in a rousing chorus of “We all hate Leeds scum” of course. This tells you all you need to know about what motivates such dire and blinkered clubs – but at least the motivation is there.

And the motivation is there for Leeds United, too – just not, seemingly, on those bread-and-butter league occasions when we need it. What seems to turn your average Leeds United player on over the past few years, is the glamour of the Cup – either domestic cup will do, apparently. Results and performances in these games have left bewildered fans scratching their heads and wondering how such high achievers can then go on to perform so miserably against the envious pariahs from down the road in Cleckhuddersfax. Look at the results – going back to League One days. A narrow home defeat to Liverpool in the League Cup when by common consent we should have won and Snoddy ripped them up from wide areas. The famous win at Man U when we went to the Theatre of Hollow Myths and showed neither fear nor respect in dumping the Pride of Devon out of the FA Cup. Draws at Spurs and Arsenal, beating Spurs, Gareth Bale and all, at Elland Road. Beating other Premier League sides such as Everton and Southampton in games that had you wondering which was the higher status club. Great occasions – but of course we haven’t the squad to go through and win a cup, so these achievements ultimately gain us little but pride. And, naturally, when we draw a Yorkshire “rival” away in a Cup, we contrive to lose embarrassingly as per Bratfud earlier this season. It’s just not good enough.

Often we will sing to daft smaller clubs’ fans about the Leeds fixtures being their Cup Finals, but this is becoming a joke very much against us. The teams concerned seem to take the Cup Final thing literally, they get highly motivated, roll their metaphorical sleeves up, the veins in their temples start to throb and the battle cry is sounded. Their fans, normally present in miserable numbers, are out in force – and they are demanding superhuman endeavour. Faced with this, too many Leeds teams over the past few years have simply failed to find a comparable level of commitment and effort. There’s no excuse for that – it has meant we’re almost starting off a goal down – even when we swiftly go a goal up.

The sheer number of local derbies will count against a team which allows itself to suffer this disadvantage, this moral weakness. For Leeds, since we came back to the second tier, there has usually been one Sheffield or another, usually Barnsley or Huddersfield or Hull, Middlesbrough perhaps – even the just-over-the-border outfits like Oldham and Burnley feel the same ambition and desire to slay the Mighty Leeds. It amounts to a sizeable chunk of a season’s fixtures – if you fail to perform in these, then you’re struggling. The pressure is then on to get results against the better teams at the top end of the table, and we don’t fare too well there either.

It’s easy to say that it’s a matter of getting better players. Largely that’s true. But we’ve usually had better players than these annoying little Davids, and yet the slingshot has still flown accurately right into Goliath’s eye and knocked us over. Professional football is a game of attitude, motivation, mental readiness to match the opposition and earn the right to make your higher quality tell. This, over a number of years, is what Leeds United have signally failed to do.

Can it change? Well, so far this season we’ve played Sheffield Wednesday and Huddersfield at home – plus Millwall, who qualify as a southern member of the chip on the shoulder brigade, away. We’ve four points out of nine to show from that little lot, which is the difference between our current position and sixth – in the play-off zone. Even three of those lost five points would see us just a point off the top six places. And the thing is, ALL of those games were distinctly winnable, so it’s no pipe-dream to look at where we might have been. The difference is down to attitude; our opponents have had it and – with the notable exception of the Huddersfield performance – we simply haven’t.

It’s a sobering message at this stage of the season, with only three such games played – and plenty more to come. But it’s a message that should be heeded, or the effect on our season will become more profound as it goes on. The potential is there for us to take advantage of games against inferior but highly-motivated opposition, to match the attitude of these teams and to reap our rewards. The failure to do this will see us endure yet another season of under-achievement. We have to overcome the “Cup Final Mentality” of certain other clubs, mainly those in Yorkshire but elsewhere too.

The Rotherham game next Friday night is an ideal opportunity for this new, tougher mental attitude to kick in. Again, we have small local rivals who nurse a fierce and unrequited hatred of Leeds United – and they have the odd old boy in their ranks as well as a wily manager who has been busily bigging us up. Our heroes will include a number of quite new foreign signings, who may still be a little wide-eyed and naive on occasions like this. So the ingredients are all there for the relative big boys of Leeds to turn up, find the environment not to their liking – and roll over once again in abject surrender. Please, let it not be so.

Leeds United – you just need to get psyched-up and go out to win some of these pesky and troublesome “Cup Finals”. Darko can inculcate his principles and make a pretty pattern of play – but when blood and guts are needed, some fight and some grit – then it really is up to you lads who wear the shirt we’d all of us out here be willing to walk on hot coals for.

36 Comments

Posted in Football, Leeds United

Tagged Arsenal FC, Barnsley, commitment, Cup games, Everton FC, Huddersfield Town, Liverpool FC, local derbies, Manchester United, Millwall, motivation, pride, Sheffield United, Sheffield Wednesday, Tottenham Hotspur

Former Leeds Man Sabella Outwits Man Utd Boss van Gaal in World Cup – by Rob Atkinson

Posted on 10/07/2014 | 11 comments

Alejandro Sabella – formerly of Elland Road parish

So we are to be spared a rerun of the 1974 World Cup Final, when a technically superior Holland contrived somehow to lose to those pesky, arrogant Deutschers. Instead, it will be a best of three decider as Argentina and Germany, tied after the tournaments of 1986 and 1990 at one head-to-head World Cup apiece, do battle in Brazil for the title of ultimate Champions 2014 style.

In truth, all that will be decided is who is the best of an indifferent bunch at this over-hyped, over-rated tournament. Germany booked their Final place on Tuesday, beating a Brazil side of whom their angry fans could with justification sing “It’s just like watching Barnsley”. The Germans had nowt to beat, as we say in God’s Own Country, but they will find Argentina a much tougher proposition. To Messi and his men falls the responsibility of preserving South American infallibility where tournaments held in the Americas are concerned. No European side has ever won the World Cup over there – can a good but by no means brilliant Germany really be the first?

The second semi-final saw Holland keep up their own 100% record of World Cup failure. Having confirmed his position of World’s Best Coach, in the eyes of the Man U-obsessed British press at least, by a quirky goal-keeping substitution against Costa Rica, Pride of Devon manager-elect van Gaal then brilliantly decided to stick with his number one No. 1 Cillessen for this shoot-out. Predictably, his confidence affected by that bizarre substitution, the poor lad didn’t get near most of the Argentinean penalties, as erstwhile super-sub Krul sat despondent and abandoned on the bench. So Holland are out, their Manchester-bound coach out-foxed by honorary Yorkshireman Alejandro Sabella, once of the Sheffield Blades and, more pertinently, the Whites of Leeds United.

Who, then, will emerge victorious now? Germany will be on a high after their candy-from-a-baby beating of the Worst Brazil Side Ever. But they’re not anywhere near as good as the hosts made them look – and, if Messi can put in just one truly Messi-esque performance, Europe will be left waiting for its first Americas Cup. That’s the prediction of Life, Leeds United, the Universe & Everything. Argentina to win, without the need for extra time or a penalty lottery – Germany to be left reflecting that you get nowt for being second, as the Greatest Club Captain of all once said. It’s going to be World Cup glory for ex-Leeds Man Sabella – and with an enviable pedigree like that, will it really be a surprise?

11 Comments

Posted in Football, Leeds United

Tagged America, Argentina, Brasil, Champions, Deutschland, Fußball, Germany, Holland, Leeds United, Manchester United, Sheffield United, World Cup 2014

Forget Man U “Class of ’92” – Salute the Leeds MASTERS of ’92 – by Rob Atkinson

Posted on 26/04/2014 | 55 comments

Super Jon Newsome

There’s been a lot of talk this past couple of days about the “Class of ’92”, a somewhat disingenuous reference to Man U’s FA Youth Cup winners of that year, what with Giggsy Wiggsy taking over as temp. manager at the Theatre of Hollow Myths, with Scholesy Wolsey and Butty Wutty on board as well.

The media, bless ’em, love this sort of thing – and they’re seemingly eager to ignore the fact that 1992 was, actually, all about another United – Leeds United, the one and only United – as they won the last ever proper Football League Championship, four points clear of you-know-who and their rabidly frothing Scotch git of a manager.

It all happened 22 years ago today, actually – so let’s have a nostalgic look back and, while we’re at it, set the record straight about all of this “Class of ’92” crap. Because we’re not talking pupils here, we’re talking masters.

The 26^th April 1992 was not just a normal Sunday morning like any other; for all fans of Leeds United it would turn out to be a date with destiny, the unlikely culmination of a footballing journey that had started in October 1988. Howard Wilkinson’s move from First Division Sheffield Wednesday to take over as boss at Second Division strugglers Leeds United had been – perhaps unwisely – summed up by the Sheffield Wednesday chairman as “a chance we couldn’t deny Howard to better himself.” That must have fallen like rocks on the ears of the Wednesday fans who nevertheless could not have envisaged their rivals’ subsequent meteoric rise at a time when the Wednesday star was on the wane. Such is life.

History will show that Wilkinson breezed into Leeds United, seized the place by the scruff of its neck and shook it up good and proper. Remnants of his legacy are still visible in the club’s world-class Academy and training complex not to mention the gigantic East Stand, but it is for the phoenix-like resurrection of The Whites that the fanatical Leeds support will best remember Sergeant Wilko. Leeds were promoted in 1990 after Wilkinson’s first full season, trading places with Sheffield Wednesday as they dropped into the Second Division – bittersweet irony there. A season of consolidation followed, and then the full-on assault on the Football League Championship itself, a challenge unexpectedly sustained right to the sweetest of ends. By April 20^th 1992, Leeds were still clinging on in the title race, but Man U were clear favourites with a points lead and a match in hand. That day though was the start of the turning of the tide in Leeds’ favour. As fans gathered on the Kop for the late afternoon visit of Coventry City, radios were clamped to anxious ears as news was awaited from Man U’s home game against Nottingham Forest. Two explosions of joy from the swelling Elland Road crowd signalled two Forest goals and a defeat for the leaders that Leeds were to capitalise on, beating Coventry 2-0 in front of a live TV audience.

Now it was game on in earnest, and I vividly remember a nervous evening at home that midweek as West Ham played host to Man U who were finally playing their remaining game in hand. Win, and they would be in the box seat – but, as I frantically tidied and re-tidied my bedside table drawer to save myself from chewing my nails down to my elbows, they lost, wonderfully, miraculously lost to leave Leeds in charge of their own destiny. Choleric Man U manager Alex Ferguson must have bitterly tasted the sourest of grapes as he described the already-relegated Hammers’ effort levels in beating his charges as “obscene”. His lack of grace drew a stark contrast with the phlegmatic Wilko, who was calmly reminding the world that Leeds had secured a place in Europe, his main aim for the season, and that anything more would be “a bonus.”

But Leeds now knew that if they won their last two games – away at Sheffield United and at home to Norwich City – they would be English Champions in the last old-style Football League programme – a signal honour. Everybody thought it would go down to the last game of the season, that Norwich would be the big game. Yet if Leeds were to win at Bramall Lane, Man U would then face the formidable task of winning at Anfield to take the Title race to its last day.

Back to April 26^th, and as I walked up the hill into Wakefield that mid-morning, I saw cars trailing the colours of Leeds United, the scarves fluttering bravely – and I felt a sense of occasion but still could not quite comprehend that this might just be The Day. I met up with my mate Dave, and we shared a tense journey to Sheffield, not much said, both knowing that this was a Sunday that could equally easily end up being triumph or disaster. Parked up in the scruffy environs of Bramall Lane, just about the first thing Dave did as we walked to the ground was to drag me back out of the path of a careering van as I stepped out to cross a road, oblivious of traffic, lost in thought. We both grinned at my narrow escape and agreed: good omen. And then we were high up in the seats of the upper tier behind the goal at the away end of Sheffield United’s quaintly ill-designed stadium. The day was gusty, and so the football would prove to be. It was a match of ebb and flow, the Sheffield faithful eager to deny Leeds their chance of clinching the title, Leeds fans loud and defiant with self-belief.

If you’re a Leeds supporter, you’ll have seen the goals from that game hundreds, thousands of time. It plays through now, all these years later, in the Football Highlights studio of my mind; joy for the home side as Alan Cork, gleaming of bald pate, pokes the ball home to give Sheffield the lead. Then, a midfield tussle in the swirling wind, as Leeds try valiantly to come back. A late first-half free kick, which Gordon Strachan races to take before the home defence can set themselves, he finds Rod Wallace in the area who tips the ball past home keeper Mel Rees’s attempt to save, defenders scramble to clear, only to hit Gary Speed who pings the ball back to ricochet off Wallace – into the net. Pandemonium in the away end. Level at half time, we’re breathless with drama and the hurly-burly of it all, raucous with United anthems, nervous of what’s yet to come.

In the second half, though we don’t know it, human tragedy unfolds: Sheffield ‘keeper Mel Rees, injured in the melee leading to Leeds’ leveller, his thigh heavily strapped, can hardly move and is hampered for the second Leeds goal as Jon Newsome stoops to head in at the far post. Mel Rees, who was due an international call-up for Wales the next day but has to pull out because of his injury. Mel Rees, who would never play football again because he was to develop cancer and die a year later, tragically young at 26. RIP Mel Rees.

The crazy game continues crazily. A dangerous ball across the Leeds box is retrieved by home defender and future Leeds man John Pemberton, who turns it back towards the goal-line where Lee Chapman sticks out a leg for an own-goal greeted with horrified stupefaction by the Leeds fans behind the goal and we’re level again. Then enfant terrible Eric Cantona enters the fray, and within a few minutes he is chasing a loose ball into the Sheffield half, with Rod Wallace scampering alongside and home defender Brian Gayle lumbering back in a desperate attempt to clear the danger. And it’s Gayle, former Man City man, who finally slays Man United. From my vantage point at the opposite end of the ground I see him get his head to the ball, and the action is suddenly slow motion. Gayle has headed the ball, poor Mel Rees is stranded far out of his goal, the ball goes over his head in a slow, slow loop, and bounces tantalisingly towards the unguarded net…

Then I’m watching at full speed from the far end as Cantona and Wallace raise their arms in triumph, wheeling away in delight, and even as I wonder what they’re up to I realise that the ball has nestled in the Sheffield United net. A red mist descends, and I am utterly outside of my skull and beside myself in delirious joy and fevered madness, looking around me, roaring like a demented bull, face congested with blood, eyes bulging; I grab a tiny and helpless St John’s Ambulance man by his lapels and scream beer and spittle into his terrified face “Get me some oxygen!!!”, I bellow. “I’m going to have a bloody heart attack!!!” The mad moment passes, I drop the ashen medic and some measure of sanity returns, but we’re still cavorting and diving all over each other, a seething, sweating mass of Leeds, because we know it’s over, we know that Sheffield are beaten, and we know that Man U don’t have an earthly at Anfield, not a prayer. We were going to be Champions; on that windiest and gustiest of days, a Gayle from Manchester City has blown the Scum away and decided in an instant the fate of all three Uniteds from Manchester, Sheffield and Leeds.

And so, of course, it panned out. Later I watched mesmerised on TV as Liverpool beat a demoralised Man U, Denis Law and Ian St John trying to put a brave face on it, Elton Welsby’s foot bobbing away in thwarted anger as the script turned out just as none of them wanted. Ian Rush scored his first ever goal against Them, and it was settled late on as Man U conceded a second. “And now the title goes to Leeds without any doubt at all” intoned Brian Moore in the ITV commentary as I sat there with tears of joy streaming down my unashamed face. Gary Lineker had called into the studio earlier to complain that Rod Wallace’s goal had been offside (it was). St John and Moore bemoaned that Man U had had no luck at all, and Welsby ground his teeth in the studio as the Man U fans outside hurled abuse at him, heedless of the fact that he shared their bitter disappointment. All was frustration in the media and the rest of football and Leeds fans everywhere utterly failed to give a toss.

Twenty-two years on from that nutty day, when Leeds reached the summit of the game, the images are all still vivid and clear for me. I’ve worn out four video tapes and at least three DVD’s, but I don’t need them, I don’t need YouTube, I can see it all any time I choose just by relaxing and closing my eyes. Mel Rees is no longer with us, nor is Gary Speed and Brian Moore has passed away too. Rest in peace, all. And my mate Dave who shared that memorable day with me, he’s gone as well, taken far too young by cancer in 1999. I have a picture of us both, taken before the home game with Norwich a week after we’d won the league, triumphant in our freshly-purchased “Champions” t-shirts, happily blind as to what the future would bring. RIP, Dave mate. We celebrated hard that day as little Rod Wallace won that last game with a sublime goal, rounding off our greatest season. We’d earned it, me and Dave, tramping around the second division grounds of the eighties as Leeds struggled to come back. Thousands of us had earned it. Now we were top dogs, and boy did we enjoy it while it lasted.

United were back, as Champions of England. The Last Real Champions. One of our unique, unbeatable accolades, like being at the top of the League when the Millennium clicked its four digits over. Something that can never be taken away from us: Immortality, pure and simple. Happy Memories, Champs.

55 Comments

Posted in Football, Leeds United

Tagged 1992, Alex Ferguson, Champions, League Title, Leeds United, Man United, Sergeant Wilko, Sheffield United, soccer, Sport, UK Football, winners

Happy Birthday to Tony, Tony Currie – by Rob Atkinson

Posted on 01/01/2014 | 15 comments

Currie for England

Very happy birthday wishes today for one of my late seventies heroes, probably still one of my favourite ever United players, though his stay was relatively brief and the team he graced was not of that vintage which lit up Elland Road only a few years earlier. Tony Currie had been the idol of the Sheffield United fans at Bramall Lane, making over 300 appearances for the Blades in a nine-year spell after starting out at Watford. But he played arguably his best football at Elland Road between 1976 and 1979, winning the bulk of his England caps in that period and inspiring a declining team in Leeds to three semi-finals. What an option he would have been as part of the great Revie squad – one of the few players I can think of from the post-Revie era who could have held his own in that auspicious company.

Currie made his debut for Leeds United on a sunny August afternoon at Elland Road against newly-promoted West Bromwich Albion. Coincidentally, Johnny Giles – whose mantle Currie was meant to assume as the creative heartbeat of Leeds – was in the opposition side that day as a 2-2 draw was played out, United coming back from two goals down. It was my first solo trip to Elland Road and I was right at the front of the Lowfields as over 40,000 packed the ground. I can vividly remember Paul Reaney right in front of me, looking up and shouting “Tony!” as he played a perfect ball up the line towards the Kop End for Currie – it was the first time I’d realised what a shouty place a professional football field was. For some reason, that image is burned on my mind; it could have been yesterday.

Currie of Leeds

As his Elland Road career progressed, Currie achieved cult status with the Leeds fans. The chant of “Tony, Tony Currie” was a hymn of adulation to a flamboyant and gifted star – you always thought he was just about to do something special and unforgettable and, of course, he frequently did. One speciality was the volleyed pass out to the wing, invariably finding a wide player in space, the ball dropping perfectly into his path and United were on the attack. To watch Currie run with the ball, doing that deceptive little shimmy of his to take him past a defender, leaving the guy for dead as he moved upfield, is not something that any Currie fan will forget. Whilst he was at Leeds, he scored a couple of his most spectacular goals in an England shirt, to my intense pride. But he frequently had his shooting boots on for United too – who can forget that legendary “banana shot” against Southampton in 1978? For my money though, one of his finest goals was against Arsenal at Highbury on the opening day of that season, a searing shot into the far top corner from wide right, struck with the outside of his foot and giving the startled keeper no chance at all. Liam Brady had already scored a wonder goal for the Gunners, but Currie’s superb strike took the honours on the day in another 2-2 draw.

Three losing semi-finals are all that Tony Currie had to show for his time at Leeds, but he provided so many golden memories and is rightly regarded as a legend by those of a certain age who were fortunate enough to see him strutting his stuff for Leeds. He was an imperious player, a character on the park and a genuine, massive talent who really deserved to play for a team right at the top to crown his career with trophies and medals. I wouldn’t have begrudged him that, but I was crushed when, with his wife wanting a move back to London, Currie left for QPR in 1979. It was a bad move for him, though he did get to play in a Cup Final, even captaining Rangers in their losing replay against Spurs in 1982. But his marriage didn’t survive anyway, and you just wonder how things might have turned out if Currie has stayed at Leeds – although that late seventies decline may have been too steep even for the talented Tony to prevent.

Tony Currie at Leeds was the classic example of the right man at the wrong time; in a better United side, he’d have shone even more because the gifts he had were tailor-made to complement those of the stars that had started to fade or had left the club by the time TC joined. As it was, we may well have had the best of him during that golden three-year spell, although Sheffield United fans still hail him as their best-ever player. It was to Bramall Lane that he eventually returned after his playing days were over, working in community roles for the club he’d served so well before moving to Leeds – and even starring as himself in the movie “When Saturday Comes” alongside Blades fanatic Sean Bean.

Tony Currie: maverick entertainer, sumptuously-talented midfield general, movie star and all-round good guy. Thanks for the memories and a very happy 64th birthday.

15 Comments

Posted in Football, Leeds United

Tagged banana shot, Elland Road, England team, Johnny Giles, Leeds United, midfielder, Paul Reaney, Sean Bean, semi-finals, Sheffield United, Tony Currie

Leeds United Legend Vinnie Jones in Skin Cancer Battle – by Rob Atkinson

Posted on 24/11/2013 | 28 comments

Leeds hero Vinnie Jones

Former Leeds United star Vinnie Jones has revealed that he has had several small tumours removed since being diagnosed with melanoma – the most potentially serious form of skin cancer. Jones, an integral part of Leeds’ 1990 promotion squad, initially discovered a small lump underneath his eye back in February, but had thought it was simply “a blackhead or a wart”. However, a check-up revealed the seriousness of the situation. Jones at first feared for his life, but swiftly resolved to fight “with everything I’ve got”. Melanoma kills some 1,300 men and 900 women every year, but is treatable if caught early enough.

The Hollywood actor has blamed his outdoor lifestyle for a condition related to over-exposure to the sun. Vinnie has always been an outdoorsman, and moved to Los Angeles after his football days ended, to pursue a film career. He has had a lot of success and has worked with some high-profile stars in films like X-Men and Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels.

Now working for the Melanoma Research Foundation, Jones cites his own case in warning others to take precautions. “Footballers never put on sunblock and they should all be wearing it,” he said. “Kids should all be wearing it every time they play sport.” Vinnie’s wife Tanya has also fought the disease, which she developed a result of drugs she had been taking since having a heart transplant 26 years ago.

Leeds United fans and those who remember Vinnie’s playing days from other clubs he served – Chelsea, Sheffield United and Wimbledon – will join together in sending heart-felt good wishes to a legend of the game who now has a different sort of fight on his hands. Get well soon, Vinnie.

28 Comments

Posted in Football, Leeds United

Tagged AFC Wimbledon, Chelsea FC, Leeds United, Sheffield United

How Did Leeds United Miss Out on Talented Sevilla Prospect and Local Lad Reuben Smith? by Rob Atkinson

Posted on 28/09/2013 | 9 comments

Leeds Fan Reuben Smith – On The Books at Sevilla

At the tender age of eight, Reuben Smith was offered terms by Sheffield United FC – a massive step forward for any young lad who wants a career in professional football. But Reuben – who had dazzled anyone who’d ever watched him play football, almost as soon as he could walk – had other ideas. He’d been going along to Elland Road with his dad since he was a toddler and his heart was set on wearing the famous white shirt of Leeds United. That such a desirable link-up – for Reuben and perhaps for Leeds – never happened raises worrying concerns about the scouting system that can let a diamond slip away right from under the nose of – supposedly – one of the finest youth set-ups anywhere.

What actually happened was a phone call out of the blue from Portuguese giants Benfica, who had obviously heard good things about the lad from Featherstone near Pontefract, just a few miles from Leeds. Benfica’s interest alerted top Spanish club Sevilla and, after completing his GCSE’s at St Wilfrid’s High School (my daughter’s school, so she is partly to blame) Reuben took a plane flight alone to Malaga, made the cross-country coach trip to Sevilla and is now a part of their youth academy. He is being guided by Jesus Rodriguez de Moya Conde, a man who had been instrumental in uncovering the talents of Sergio Ramos of Real Madrid, Antonio Reyes late of Arsenal and recent Man City capture Jesus Navas.

Any young footballer who can earn himself a place in such a talent factory must have quite a lot going for him. His dad talks about the boy having a sense of space, time and rhythm from an early age. It’s no coincidence that he shows talent in other areas too; when he plays the drums it’s apparently “like watching a jazzman from the ’50s”. “Our Reuben has a rhythm that needs to be played out somewhere,” says proud dad Dean, “and he’s playing to a different beat, his boundaries are not limited by where he’s from, just where he’s going.” This sounds like just the sort of combination of gifts and instinctive ability that could flourish in the artistic tempo of la Liga – but it is undeniably frustrating to think that the boy’s real desire was to wow the Gelderd End at Elland Road.

It’s to be hoped that such local promise does not too frequently go un-noticed by the region’s premier professional Football Club. Leeds have shown themselves to be no slouches when it comes to nurturing young talent from raw potential right through to the first team. Sam Byram and Alex Mowatt are testament enough to that. But there’s no such thing as too many talented young players – and particularly those of whom it could truly be said that Leeds United blood courses through their veins. To see a young prospect like Reuben Smith benefiting from top quality coaching in the the best league anywhere makes you pleased for the lad – but also disappointed for Leeds that the Yorkshire giants appear to have missed out on such a chance to polish another diamond of their very own. It could turn out to be an expensive oversight.

Good luck, Reuben Smith, wherever your career takes you – within reason. And don’t anyone be surprised if, in a few years time, their Premier League status firmly re-established and operating once again alongside the country’s top clubs, Leeds United find themselves shelling out a good few million quid on a stellar talent that they could have had for nowt.

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Posted in Football, Leeds United, Life

Tagged Football, la Liga, Leeds fan, Leeds United, SC Sevilla, Sheffield United, soccer, Talent, youth prospect

What Does Sheffield Utd’s New Arab Prince Mean for Leeds?

Posted on 03/09/2013 | 15 comments

Bramall Lane’s Over That Way, Squire

They seem to have pulled off quite a coup down at Beautiful Downtown Bramall Lane, with the announcement that Prince Abdullah bin Mosaad bin Abdulaziz Al Saud (or “Prinny” for short) has purchased a 50% stake in the League One club, becoming joint owner with Kevin McCabe. No long and torturous process of due diligence for the Blunts – it’s a done deal, crash bang wallop, just like that. Quite a difference, it has to be said, from the goings-on at Elland Road last year when it took what seemed like centuries and millions of pages of internet speculation before our own impoverished Middle Eastern takeover was completed. So far, the main appeal of Leeds’ newish owners would seem to be their prized quality of Not Being Ken Bates. But it may well be that Sheffield United have got themselves a rich billionaire, and with hardly any fuss, bother or publicity.

Still though, some things about this takeover imply a less than bankrolled future for the humble Blunts. For a start, it’s been announced – highly conveniently – the day after the summer transfer window slammed shut. And of course the spectre of the new Financial Fair Play rules will haunt any club with ambitions to buy its way to a higher status, meaning that even if Sheffield United were technically minted due to the bulging coffers of its new co-owner, they will be decidedly hamstrung in terms of exactly how much of that wonga they can spend on team improvements. Then again, there may be ways around that, if your backroom staff includes a wily enough manipulator of accounts and accounting regulations. Whatever the case, Blunts fans have every right to be excited about what appears to be a notable development in their club’s profile and ability to plan for a brighter future.

All this is taking place within crowing distance of Elland Road, and many of the Bramall Lane faithful will be having a satisfied chuckle into their greasy chip butties tonight at the thought of how their beloved Blunts have out-done Big Brother up the M1. So what will this development mean for Leeds United AFC? This is, after all, a club whose current owners have been talking loud and long about their desire to attract inward investment on a scale to allow United to move forward on and off the pitch. Rumours were rife not so long back of a mega sponsorship package involving soft-drinks giants Red Bull, and only a day or so ago David Haigh was using his Twitter account to make cryptic references to that company. Other rumours have referred to nameless Saudi princes who may want to be involved with a club which, although some way from Premier League status, certainly have a historic global profile that puts them in a stratospherically different league to either Sheffield club. It’s being said that the new Prince of Bramall Lane could easily have afforded himself a Premier League club, but opted for life in Sheffield. Why would this be? Were Leeds owners GFH aware of the interest of this apparently mega-wealthy Saudi investor? Do they still have other irons in the fire? Should we be worried that Salem Patel hasn’t tweeted one of his enigmatic little winks lately? What IS going on behind the scenes?

One thing is for sure. We live in an age of instant knowledge and mass-sharing of said knowledge on a variety of social media. Football fans gossip on a scale undreamed of by the archetypal housewives over the garden fence, and if one consumer group feels that a rival consumer group is getting a better deal, they are liable to get twitchy, bordering on annoyed. The reaction of Leeds fans is out there already: why can’t WE get ourselves a billionaire investor? The potential at Elland Road, even under Financial Fair Play is much greater – so why aren’t we being snapped up by someone who doesn’t have to scrape down the back of the sofa every time we need the odd million for a Man U reserve. Why can’t we get lucky, just for once? Things are undeniably better than they were under Bates – but with a body of support such as Leeds United has, with their memories of glory days and a glittering history, how long are they going to settle for that?

Now that a near neighbour appears to have sorted itself out as a new rich kid on the block, expect rumblings of discontent at Elland Road if things dont start to move on our own investment front. It wasn’t a barren transfer window for Leeds, not by any means. But the way it fizzled out with inactivity on deadline day and no wingers or strikers arriving – that was uncomfortably reminiscent of the bad old days under Ken. GFH will need to be aware that Leeds fans will never be happy merely to keep up with the Joneses, and now that those Joneses seem to have won the lottery, we’re going to be mighty reluctant to settle for the role of poverty-stricken neighbours. With the pressure this development down the M1 has applied, there had better be some results forthcoming in the loan window – or the muffled protests will become a lot louder and the clamour for new signings in the January window is liable to be deafening.

The way the season pans out for both Uniteds, Sheffield and Leeds, should make for very interesting viewing. Watch this space.

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Posted in Football, Leeds United, News, Sport

Tagged Financial Fair Play rules, GFH C, investment, Leeds United, Saudi Prince, Sheffield United, soccer, transfer window

Leeds United Needs a New Vinnie

Posted on 01/06/2013 | 1 comment

Sir Vincent 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 – wee Gordon Strachan, who played a mighty part 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. So 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 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 having trouble seeing what the Jones Boy would bring to the United table. 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”. He 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. 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 5 year-old mascot Robert Kelly in the area with a signature sliding tackle, much to the delight of the Kop. 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 “LUFC Division 2 Champions” tattoo 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 embark on 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? I’m really not too sure – Joey Barton maybe? Even he could hardly be a greater culture shock than Vinnie was 25 years ago, but Barton is likely to be far beyond our purse – and to be frank I think he lacks Vinnie’s essential honesty and sheer bad-boy charm. It’s difficult to say who if anyone we might secure to play the Vinnie part – but if it were possible, in advance of the season before us, 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 a series of battles in a 46 game-long war of attrition. If only we could have our Vinnie back now.