Leeds were never supposed to be terrible again - The Square Ball 18/10/21
GOOD WEEKEND?
Written by Ella Richardson
There’s something strange about going into a game with
absolutely no fucking hope despite playing Southampton, but it turns out this strange
feeling is called being right. We got one of those half-times when you stand
with your hands on your hips and say a variety of things along the lines of,
“Right. Well. Okay. Can only get better right?” It never usually gets better
after reaching that point, and didn’t. Everything I said about expecting
nothing and having no hope to start with gets forgotten when we’re playing so
utterly terrible with four key players out, and need to block out the next 48
hours to sit in the dark.
‘Woeful’ is a word I have often used to describe Leeds
United’s performances over the years. But those years were long forgotten.
Being coached by Marcelo Bielsa was supposed to mean we’d never be terrible
again. And with or without Kalvin Phillips, Premier League Leeds United should
never be this bad. Costly Rodrigo’s attempts to cover up what might be
Valencia’s most successful daylight robbery of all time fell short, as did his
attempts to do… anything. Stuart Dallas is just about the shadow of the player
we saw last season. And Mateusz Klich might just be bad at football now. Okay,
he’s not. But it sure feels that way when you’re watching him accidentally play
for Southampton.
It would be easy to throw our hands in the air and excuse
Saturday’s game using the bloody inconvenient timing of everyone being broken
at once, but we’ve never been about easy at Leeds. I think we quite like the
torture of replaying and relaying those painful moments, of wondering why we
weren’t just better. According to the drunk man in the pub next to me mumbling
“Bielsa out,” it would be easier to blame Bielsa. I’d like to think Drunk Man
In The Pub is isolated in his beliefs, but for the sake of anyone nodding along
with him, the reality isn’t that Bielsa has lost the plot. Or the power. Or
something. I don’t think. Of course, the inconvenient-timing-all-broken isn’t
helped by Marcelo’s insistence on a small squad, but ‘I told you so’ isn’t a
sentence I would fancy saying to that man.
Bielsa’s unsought God status took full flight pretty much
from his first game here, but the typical volatility of football fanship
appears to be, slowly and in hushed words, loosening on the philosophy. The
thing about religion is it’s meant to be an unshakable faith. I’m not saying we
should still trust in Bielsa if we end up in League One anytime soon, but we
also probably shouldn’t convert after a couple of worrying performances.
Memories of the 6-0 scoreline against Wednesday crop up and you start wondering
why you’re even bothered as you look back from the Premier League. But you
don’t get to stay up here by looking back at your former self, waving, and
thanking your lucky stars you don’t have to visit Hillsborough again. Can you tell
I’m torn?
The beauty of Bielsaball has always been that it was never
anything close to just a ball on a pitch. Watching Harrison on the wing this
weekend, I’m not sure we even achieved that. For years it’s felt like every
move made by a Leeds United side has glittered. Mums on Facebook are always
harping on about not letting anyone dull your sparkle, and I think they should
start tagging Stuart Dallas. He will glitter again if he can feel that positive
mum energy. Like and share to agree.
I’m feeling all the following: let’s not lump this on
Bielsa, but let’s remember he’s not infallible, and also recognise our bench
resembled the children’s table at a wedding with Adam Forshaw keeping an eye on
them, throwing in that is sort of Bielsa’s fault, but it also might be Victor
Orta’s. It all just makes me want to sigh a bit and conclude that maybe we were
just bad this day. Maybe the solution is to keep the 3pm Premier League TV
blackout. It’s a better weekend not knowing.