Friday 1 October 2010
Saturday 28 August 2010
Tuesday 16 February 2010
Leeds United FC 1 - Walsall 2
16/2/10
The Peacocks’ feathers were clipped tonight in controversial fashion by a lacklustre Walsall, in a game serenaded by a chorus of boos at its climax by the frustrated Elland Road faithful. The Midland town and its area boasts a population of nearly a quarter of a million, of which at least thirty travelled to Leeds to support their team, but undoubtedly more would have endured the journey and got on their horses had they known the Saddler’s would have pulled off the upset in their cup final seasonal fixture…
The Whites enjoyed the lion’s share of the possession and chances – certainly in the first half – but surprisingly it would be the comparative zebras that escaped with the points. Though a degree of dexterity and assertiveness was lacking in the Leeds build up, the visitors hardly resembled A Seleção 1970 of Rivelino, Jairzinho, Pelé et al. Leeds were comfortable, which was the worst thing about the loss. That, and the controversial nature of the goal, one awarded by an overzealous linesman that may as well have been standing on the grassy knoll…
An early inswinger led to a blocked header for Becchio; Beckford almost benefitted from route one tactics before a last ditch tackle, and Becchio volleyed a shot well over. Such was the plethora of early chances – none clear cut, but by the mantra that attack is the best form of defence, the signs were good.
United continued to dominate possession, as Walsall played with all the flair and imperious ingenuity of a team consisting of socially incapable retards from an inner-city London high school. A Beckford layoff for Bradley Johnston led to the first save of the day from the fabulously named Clayton Ince. Walsall responded with a pathetic long distance shot from their number 10. I’ll spare him the shame of being credited with said effort.
The half ebbed and flowed, and half time duly arrived without the deadlock broken. This would not last. A lethargic, sluggish start to the second saw Walsall steal the lead with an admittedly adroit finish. The attack caught Leeds napping; one time England hopeful Julian Gray sent the ball in from the left, and Dwayne Mattis did the rest with a tremendous left footed finish.
Leeds pressed on, but without even the urgency of the first half, nor with any real style or guile. Simon Grayson, mastermind of the cup victory of future history over Manchester United, merely weeks later found himself bringing on Grella and Gredel in the hopes of drawing with the mighty Walsall. The move was justified, however – the duo added spark, and Gredel in particular looked to be a promising outlet out wide, making several runs from the right wing, and harassing defenders.
The breakthrough, though, occurred from the left. Gary McSheffries, once a man with a multi million pound price tag on his head, drew back his foot to cross in a fairly innocuous situation. What happened next took everyone by surprise; the winger saw Clayton Ince stranded from his goal line, and directed his cross to the near post. Ince scrambled, but was about as successful as Operation Frühlingserwachen in his frantic attempt to recover, and the Leeds faithful celebrated the return to parity.
The Peacocks pressed for a winner, but were ultimately undone by the disgusting tyranny of corrupt officialdom, nationwide anti-Leeds bias with a dollop of ineptitude as a rancid hors d’oeuvres. Clayton ‘Old’ McDonald directed a fairly unimpressive header towards the Leeds goal, and the momentarily unsighted Casper Ankergren clawed the effort away. The linesman immediately waved to indicate that the ball had crossed the line, though video evidence slowed down does not indicate anything of the sort.
Leeds continued to press, but discipline and composure had deserted the whites, on and off the field. The fans knew it was over. Walsall saw out the final whistle, and slunk back to the Midlands with the points in the bag like a set of unscrupulous tea leaves with particularly unsexy accents. Leeds were left bemoaning not only a flat performance, but the unnecessary throwing away of vital points against mediocre opposition…
But there is still a game in hand on Norwich, the nemesis of 09/10. And after the inevitable psychological dip in form following gutsy and unexpectedly competitive performances against the likes of Tottenham Yids, not to mention the winning one against the age-old Red Rose rivals of Man-ches-toh, undoubtedly the mighty Whites of Gods Own Country will rebound with a catlike tenacity, having only lost one measly life, to give the fans cause to burst into rendition with the old 1983 classic by KC and the Sunshine Band. We were in need of promotion then, and are today… and setbacks only serve to make eventual triumph all the sweeter…
Keep the faith.
Nana, nana nana nana na na, nana nana na Leeds are going up
Going up!
Leeds are going up!
Trust & Believe
The Peacocks’ feathers were clipped tonight in controversial fashion by a lacklustre Walsall, in a game serenaded by a chorus of boos at its climax by the frustrated Elland Road faithful. The Midland town and its area boasts a population of nearly a quarter of a million, of which at least thirty travelled to Leeds to support their team, but undoubtedly more would have endured the journey and got on their horses had they known the Saddler’s would have pulled off the upset in their cup final seasonal fixture…
The Whites enjoyed the lion’s share of the possession and chances – certainly in the first half – but surprisingly it would be the comparative zebras that escaped with the points. Though a degree of dexterity and assertiveness was lacking in the Leeds build up, the visitors hardly resembled A Seleção 1970 of Rivelino, Jairzinho, Pelé et al. Leeds were comfortable, which was the worst thing about the loss. That, and the controversial nature of the goal, one awarded by an overzealous linesman that may as well have been standing on the grassy knoll…
An early inswinger led to a blocked header for Becchio; Beckford almost benefitted from route one tactics before a last ditch tackle, and Becchio volleyed a shot well over. Such was the plethora of early chances – none clear cut, but by the mantra that attack is the best form of defence, the signs were good.
United continued to dominate possession, as Walsall played with all the flair and imperious ingenuity of a team consisting of socially incapable retards from an inner-city London high school. A Beckford layoff for Bradley Johnston led to the first save of the day from the fabulously named Clayton Ince. Walsall responded with a pathetic long distance shot from their number 10. I’ll spare him the shame of being credited with said effort.
The half ebbed and flowed, and half time duly arrived without the deadlock broken. This would not last. A lethargic, sluggish start to the second saw Walsall steal the lead with an admittedly adroit finish. The attack caught Leeds napping; one time England hopeful Julian Gray sent the ball in from the left, and Dwayne Mattis did the rest with a tremendous left footed finish.
Leeds pressed on, but without even the urgency of the first half, nor with any real style or guile. Simon Grayson, mastermind of the cup victory of future history over Manchester United, merely weeks later found himself bringing on Grella and Gredel in the hopes of drawing with the mighty Walsall. The move was justified, however – the duo added spark, and Gredel in particular looked to be a promising outlet out wide, making several runs from the right wing, and harassing defenders.
The breakthrough, though, occurred from the left. Gary McSheffries, once a man with a multi million pound price tag on his head, drew back his foot to cross in a fairly innocuous situation. What happened next took everyone by surprise; the winger saw Clayton Ince stranded from his goal line, and directed his cross to the near post. Ince scrambled, but was about as successful as Operation Frühlingserwachen in his frantic attempt to recover, and the Leeds faithful celebrated the return to parity.
The Peacocks pressed for a winner, but were ultimately undone by the disgusting tyranny of corrupt officialdom, nationwide anti-Leeds bias with a dollop of ineptitude as a rancid hors d’oeuvres. Clayton ‘Old’ McDonald directed a fairly unimpressive header towards the Leeds goal, and the momentarily unsighted Casper Ankergren clawed the effort away. The linesman immediately waved to indicate that the ball had crossed the line, though video evidence slowed down does not indicate anything of the sort.
Leeds continued to press, but discipline and composure had deserted the whites, on and off the field. The fans knew it was over. Walsall saw out the final whistle, and slunk back to the Midlands with the points in the bag like a set of unscrupulous tea leaves with particularly unsexy accents. Leeds were left bemoaning not only a flat performance, but the unnecessary throwing away of vital points against mediocre opposition…
But there is still a game in hand on Norwich, the nemesis of 09/10. And after the inevitable psychological dip in form following gutsy and unexpectedly competitive performances against the likes of Tottenham Yids, not to mention the winning one against the age-old Red Rose rivals of Man-ches-toh, undoubtedly the mighty Whites of Gods Own Country will rebound with a catlike tenacity, having only lost one measly life, to give the fans cause to burst into rendition with the old 1983 classic by KC and the Sunshine Band. We were in need of promotion then, and are today… and setbacks only serve to make eventual triumph all the sweeter…
Keep the faith.
Nana, nana nana nana na na, nana nana na Leeds are going up
Going up!
Leeds are going up!
Trust & Believe
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