The frequent hurts and occasional joys that come with following Leeds United
It’s tough being a Leeds fan. But as Jon Ritson writes ahead of his beloved club’s clash with Western Sydney Wanderers, he wouldn’t have it any other way.
When Leeds United took control of the land they now occupy many moons ago, they allegedly booted off a group of gypsies.
They swiftly placed a curse on what is now Elland Road, vowing that the club I love would forever be damned to eternal failure . . . The Damned United.
Don Revie, the club’s most successful manager, was a hugely superstitious man and when the Whites began to stack up a list of ‘gallant runners-up’ stories in the mid to late 1960s he brought in a gypsy named Rose Lee to lift said curse that had been brought to his attention.
She apparently urinated in all four corners of the ground and announced the curse was duly lifted.
Rose, you clearly missed a bit!
Yes, domestic and European titles were won but the number of near misses and outrageous robberies at the hands of dodgy refereeing in major finals points to that curse lingering, nay reeking, still.
The 1973 Cup Winners Cup final against AC Milan saw Leeds robbed, same again in the 1975 European Cup final (now Champions League) against Bayern Munich in Paris. Our fans rioted in the stands. One injustice too many.
To this day, you’ll still hear the faithful bellowing “We Are The Champions, Champions of Europe” (WACCOE for short). It’s not just a chant. It’s heartfelt. The anger still burns 44 years later.
There are fans of countless clubs who’ve seen their side win bugger all in their lifetime but for a club of Leeds’ stature, the misfortune and despair is staggering.
I was born in Leeds and and grew up in a small town about 10km from Elland Road.
Bearing in mind the ‘damned’ tag it was entirely typical that I began supporting Leeds as a youngster during the 1981-82 season. The glory years of 1965-75 were long since gone and a woeful campaign ended with relegation to what is now the Championship.
A point in the final game of the season at West Brom would have kept them up. At halftime it was 0-0. That would suffice. Listening to the game on the radio, I found it abruptly switched off as the teams went off for the interval. “School night, bed,” said mum or dad. I awoke to the news of a 2-0 defeat and the drop. I blamed my parents for decades.
Eight years in the dark depths of the second tier followed. The club occupied the headlines alright but not for footballing prowess. Nope, just the most feared bunch of hooligans in the land. Violence, racism and an angry air of hopelessness engulfed Elland Road.
A brief spark of hope came in 1986-87 and a run to the semi-final of the FA Cup. A glorious day out at Wembley beckoned. Only Coventry City stood in our way.
1-0 up with 20 minutes left and I was dreaming of the big day out. An hour or so later I was bawling after a 3-2 extra-time defeat.
A play-off final defeat followed just weeks later. This time, 1-0 up with just seven minutes to go...seven minutes and back to to the top flight. Eight minutes later I was sobbing my eyes out again. Charlton scored two goals out of nothing to deny us the promotion we craved.
“Never mind,” said mum. “I think there’s a can of Coke in the fridge.”
Promotion back to the promised land finally arrived in 1990. A final day win to clinch promotion coincided with a section of fans demolishing the sleepy seaside town of Bournemouth in the process. The city of Leeds celebrated a return to the big time. “Leeds Scum Are Back” screamed the tabloid press.
The league title was secured in 1991-92, extra special because we’d beaten the old enemy Manchester United to the crown.
But no other prizes followed and it wasn’t until the likes of Harry Kewell and Mark Viduka arrived on the scene in the late 90s that silverware was within our grasp again.
But again, heartbreak and worse. Leeds reached the semi-final of the UEFA Cup in 1999-2000. Galatasary were the opponents and ahead of the first leg two Leeds fans were murdered in Istanbul.
The semi-finals of the Champions League followed in 2001. The run ended by Valencia.
And then, the spectacular fall from grace.
A push for glory had been paid for on credit and we couldn’t pay it back.
I vividly remember sitting at Elland Road watching the mighty Whites defeat Deportivo La Coruna in the quarter-finals of the Champions League in that 2000-1 season.
A lightbulb moment.
“Cherish this,” a voice in my head whispered. “Savour this because you know it won’t last.”
It didn’t.
As the financial picture became clear, a firesale followed and in the blink of an eye, the Champions League had given way to third tier football and trips to places like Hereford and Exeter.
Back we rose, although it took three years, but a succession of owners unwilling to invest meant the door to the Premier League remained firmly locked.
And yet through it all the fans have stuck by the team, the club they love.
“We’re going to stay with you forever, at least until the world stops going round” forms part of the club anthem Marching On Together.
Those fans travel in numbers every week. Home and away. From all parts of the globe. And they’ll be there in numbers at Bankwest Stadium. Even if you’re not at the game, you’ll hear the roar alright.
Oh, and did I mention that everyone hates us. Rival fans certainly do. A recent poll showed that Leeds ‘enjoyed’ almost twice the number of derogatory chants and songs aimed at them than any other club in England.
“We all hate Leeds and Leeds and Leeds” is boomed out at numerous other grounds, frequently when Leeds are nowhere in sight.
But still the TV companies crave our games to show live. They want to see a stadium shaking with the noise and passion that our fans create.
Marcelo Bielsa’s arrival ahead of last season, admittedly one that would again end in a gallant near miss, has at least breathed fresh hope into the club, the fanbase and a one-club city desperate for success. Is this the man to finally lift the curse? God, I hope so. And without the need to pull down his trousers and sprinkle the turf.
So hated, yes, cursed, more than likely…but ignored….never!
We’re Leeds and we’re proud of it!
After every defeat, every disappointment my wife asks me: “why do you do this to yourself. Why do you care.”
She makes it sound like I have a choice.
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