David O’Leary: ‘Johan Cruyff told me my Leeds team were like football rock and roll – great to watch and a bit mad’ - The Athletic 8 May 2021
Oliver Kay
“I honestly can’t believe it’s been 20 years,” David O’Leary
says. “I’m wondering where the time has gone.”
He is casting his mind back to May 8, 2001, a day that
dragged on interminably as he and his young Leeds United team prepared for a
date with destiny in Valencia. They were 90 minutes away from the Champions
League final, so close they could almost touch it.
“I had played in many semi-finals as a player and I got to a
few different ones as a manager, but a Champions League semi-final is something
else,” he says. “The press conference the day before, the number of people
there, the focus, it all builds up and it’s so nerve-racking because you know
you’re so close to something really special.
“It was just the longest day. From the moment we got up,
kick-off seemed so far away. We went for a walk with the players, came back,
had a meal together, went back to our rooms. I remember sitting in my room for
ages, looking at my notes, going over it in my mind.”
There was the short journey through the packed streets to
Mestalla, where the colour and the noise were an assault on the senses. “An
incredible atmosphere,” O’Leary says. “That stadium, where the crowd is packed
in so tight and it feels like it’s on top of you.”
The longest of seasons, the longest of days… and then it was
all over in a flash. Valencia, inspired by the wonderful Gaizka Mendieta, were
too strong. “So near yet so far,” he says.
O’Leary said something after that game about how, after the
heartbreak of losing a UEFA Cup semi-final and a Champions League semi-final,
he and his players would be stronger and wiser for the experience next time. It
would, he said, be third time lucky. But, as every Leeds fan knows all too
well, there was not a next time. From living the dream — the infamous phrase of
their chairman Peter Ridsdale — the club was plunged into a nightmare, from
which it has only recently begun to emerge.
Rather than the prelude to something special, that night in
Valencia came to be seen as the ultimate false dawn, the beginning of the end.
Those “living the dream” years became tainted. But perhaps now, 20 years on,
with the club’s fortunes revived by Marcelo Bielsa, Leeds’ supporters can look
back with fondness rather than through the prism of everything that followed.
They were, undeniably, good times.
The story begins on the west coast of Sweden, where Leeds
staged a pre-season training camp in July 2000. There was an extra intensity to
their preparations because they were due to play the first leg of a Champions
League qualifying tie on August 9, 10 days before the Premier League season
began. Still, they were seeded in the draw. Looking down the list of possible
opponents, such as Herfolge, Dunaferr, Zimbru Chisinau and Inter Bratislava,
there was not too much to fear.
“I was gutted when we were drawn against 1860 Munich,” he
says. “Everyone was celebrating qualifying for the Champions League at the end
of the previous season, but we hadn’t. We still had a qualifying round to play
and there weren’t many tougher teams in that draw than 1860 Munich. We knew it
was going to be very tough.”
On top of that, Leeds’ pre-season preparations were dogged
by injuries. By the time the first leg at home came around, they were without
six of their leading players, including Jonathan Woodgate, David Batty and
Harry Kewell. They took a 2-0 lead, but then Olivier Dacourt and Eirik Bakke
were sent off for second bookable offences — “a joke”, O’Leary called it at the
time — and the German team pulled a goal back in the final minute.
O’Leary was downbeat in his post-match press conference,
asking how he was going to be able to field a team, particularly a midfield,
now that he would be another two midfielders down for the second leg. “I’m not
being defeatist,” he told reporters. “I’m just being realistic.”
Leeds lined up in the Olympic Stadium with full-back Gary
Kelly on the right-hand side of midfield, and Lee Bowyer, usually right-sided,
on the left. At the heart of midfield were Lucas Radebe, the veteran central
defender, and Matthew Jones, a teenager who would be sold to Leicester City a
few months later. The odds were against Leeds, but almost as soon as the second
period began, Nigel Martyn pumped a ball upfield and Mark Viduka won a tussle
with two opposition defenders before teeing up Alan Smith, who calmly put Leeds
3-1 up on aggregate.
“And that,” O’Leary says, “was where the adventure started.”
Smith was the perfect symbol of that young Leeds team. He
had just passed his 18th birthday when O’Leary, who had just taken over as
manager from George Graham, threw him in at the deep end as a substitute
against Liverpool at Anfield in November 1998. Three minutes into his Premier
League debut, Smith scored, an early illustration of his fearlessness and his
refusal to be daunted, whatever the opposition, wherever the venue.
Another was Woodgate, who, like Smith, was unexpectedly
elevated to the first team as an 18-year-old after O’Leary’s appointment. By
the end of that 1998-99 season, his first at senior level, he would be playing
for England. A period of stagnation had followed Leeds’ league title success in
1992, but suddenly, with homegrown players such as Woodgate, Kewell, Smith, Ian
Harte and Stephen McPhail thriving under O’Leary, a vibrant, exciting, young
team was emerging.
O’Leary found himself derided for constantly emphasising how
young they were — “my babies”, he liked to call them. But the accent on youth
was genuine. Beyond the experienced trio of Martyn, Radebe and Batty, the
majority of the squad was 24 or under when the season began. Kewell was 21 and
Woodgate and McPhail were 20, as was goalkeeper Paul Robinson, who would make
some significant contributions to the Champions League campaign. When
reinforcements arrived a few months into the season, they were Rio Ferdinand,
21, in an £18 million move from West Ham United and Robbie Keane, 20, on loan
from Inter Milan.
“I tried to answer honestly by saying it was a young team,”
O’Leary says. “That helped us a little bit. I remember when I got into the
Arsenal team as a young player, going to all these places, I loved it. They
were the same. Alan Smith was a wonderful lad. A young player, but a fearless
player. Lee Bowyer was excellent all through that campaign. It was a group of
players who, wherever we went, whoever we played against, they would never be
fazed by anything.”
Not even that resounding 4-0 defeat by a Rivaldo-inspired
Barcelona in the opening group game? “That was a tough night,” he says. “We had
a lot of injuries that season. I thought to myself, ‘Is it me? Is it something
we’re doing in training?’ But we had six players missing for that game and, to
be honest, I went down to Barcelona fearing for my life because I knew how good
they were and I knew there would be no hiding place there. I feared we would
get a good hiding that night. And we did.”
The Independent called it “a torrid initiation” to the
Champions League. The BBC called it a “painful lesson”. It was both of things.
Three days later, Leeds lost at home to Ipswich Town. By the time AC Milan
rolled into town the following week, O’Leary and his youngsters were up against
it.
📅 | #OnThisNight in 2000, #LUFC defeated @acmilan 1-0 in the Champions League. 35,000 watched Lee Bowyer score the decisive goal at Elland Road pic.twitter.com/0rKZy8PqS4
— Leeds United (@LUFC) September 19, 2019
The names roll off the tongue. Paolo Maldini, Alessandro
Costacurta, Demetrio Albertini, Oliver Bierhoff, Andriy Shevchenko. At that
time, Milan were the great aristocrats of European football. But on a night
when the rain lashed down at Elland Road, in an atmosphere that is recalled as
one of the loudest and most partisan the old place has witnessed in several
decades, they were taken far from their comfort zone — the conditions, the
noise and the sheer intensity of Leeds’ performance.
“I had played against Paolo Maldini in the past,” O’Leary
says. “He came up to me at half-time and saying, ‘David, what are you feeding
your players on? They’re mad, the way they charge around’.
“We liked to play at a high tempo, similar to how the Leeds
team play now. We didn’t go man-to-man, the way Marcelo’s team does, but it was
the same high tempo in training every day. We trained hard. There were people
who said, ‘You can’t train at that intensity. You won’t be able to keep it up’.
I think you can if you have the right players. We had players like Alan Smith and
Mark Viduka, who were our first line of defence, Lee Bowyer non-stop in
midfield.
“I had a simple message for the players: win the ball back
as quickly and go and express yourselves. We had a way. I believe in a way of
pressing from the front, getting in your faces. I don’t think the teams we
played that year enjoyed that. Top players don’t like it when you get in their
face.”
The memories come flooding back for O’Leary: Smith giving
Maldini such a rough time much that the great Italian defender, usually so
impeccable, was shown the yellow card for dragging him to the ground; Danny
Mills sliding across the turf to produce a perfect tackle to deny Shevchenko
what looked like a certain goal; and the noise that reached a crescendo late on
when Bowyer’s shot squirmed through Dida’s grasp to give Leeds a precious
victory.
With that, they were up and running. They thrashed Besiktas
6-0 before a tense 0-0 draw on their return to Istanbul, where two Leeds
supporters, Kevin Speight and Christopher Loftus, were fatally stabbed the
night before the UEFA Cup semi-final against Galatasaray earlier that year. All
the focus in the build-up to that game was about security and the behaviour of
both sets of supporters, including the 138 who had travelled from West Yorkshire.
The match passed peacefully and, in the circumstances, that mattered far more
than the point Leeds gained on a night when eight of their starters, including
Robinson and midfielder Jacob Burns, were aged 23 or under.
In the return game against Barcelona, Rivaldo and his
team-mates saw a very different Leeds to the one that had collapsed at Nou Camp
just six weeks earlier. O’Leary’s team took an early lead from Bowyer’s free
kick and, chasing a victory that would have taken them through to the second group
stage at Barcelona’s expense, they hung on defiantly until the fourth minute of
stoppage time when the outstanding Robinson was finally beaten by Rivaldo.
And so to Milan for the final group game in one of the great
cathedrals of European football. “They were a group of players who, wherever we
went — Barcelona, Istanbul, Milan, Rome, Madrid — we would go out onto the
pitch and have a look around the night before and they would say, ‘Yeah, I like
the look of this’,” O’Leary says. “It wasn’t just the younger players. Mark
Viduka was similar. If you were playing AC Milan, you knew you would get a
great performance from Mark. If it was Middlesbrough, you couldn’t be sure. But
the whole team, really, they were never in awe of anyone. They just wanted to
go out and enjoy the occasion.”
👏 "A prestige goal, in a prestige match for Leeds United!" https://t.co/ujRMELRKpq pic.twitter.com/6wEndc7tYO
— Leeds United (@LUFC) March 22, 2020
They certainly enjoyed it at San Siro, where, as Leeds’ fans
still like to sing, Dominic Matteo scored “a f***ing great goal” to earn a 1-1
draw that took them through with Milan, leaving Barcelona to drop down into the
UEFA Cup. “It was a great night,” O’Leary says. “Both Milan games were really
great nights. Their coaches called us in afterwards and we chinked beer bottles
with them. I think they were pleased we had got through and Barcelona hadn’t.
They probably felt Barcelona were contenders to win it and we weren’t.”
The scenes after the final whistle, as Leeds’ players
enjoyed a singalong with their supporters on the pitch, will live long in the
memory. O’Leary’s “babies” had come of age.
The Champions League campaign alone made for a rich
storyline. But there was so much more going on at Leeds at that time. That
included the case involving Woodgate and Bowyer, who were charged with causing
grievous bodily harm with intent and affray following an incident near a Leeds
nightclub in January 2000, in which an Asian student, Sarfraz Najeib, was left
with severe injuries.
That unedifying story was revisited extensively by The
Athletic in 2019. Woodgate was given 100 hours of community service after being
found guilty of affray at Hull Crown Court in December 2001. Bowyer was cleared
of all charges but later agreed a £170,000 out-of-court settlement of a civil
action for damages brought by Najeib and his brother, who was also injured in
the assault. Paul Clifford, a friend of Woodgate’s, was jailed for six years
after being found guilty of grievous bodily harm.
The internal and external damage done by the Bowyer-Woodgate
trial would come to be regarded as significant factors in the unravelling that
followed, but in the short term Leeds — Bowyer in particular — seemed unaffected
by the negative publicity. In O’Leary’s book Leeds United on Trial he describes
Bowyer’s performances throughout that period, particularly during the trial, as
phenomenal.
Despite the dark cloud hanging over the club and over
himself and Woodgate in particular, Bowyer continued to inspire Leeds in the
second group stage. They were beaten 2-0 at home by Real Madrid, but bounced
back with a 1-0 victory in Rome over Lazio, whose coach Sven-Goran Eriksson was
about to become England’s first overseas manager.
When the tournament resumed in February, they beat
Anderlecht home and away, the latter a terrific 4-1 win. Once more Smith was
among the goals, his fourth and fifth of the Champions League campaign. Once
more Bowyer was outstanding. The off-the-field scrutiny was increasing by the
week, but with two games still to play in the group, Leeds had clinched their
place in the quarter-finals.
On April 4, 2001, in the Champions League quarter-final
first leg against Deportivo La Coruna, Leeds produced a performance that is
regarded as one of the finest since the club’s heyday under Don Revie in the
1960s and 1970s. As they toyed with their opponents, like a champion matador
with a tiring bull, the crowd started to taunt the Spanish champions — ole,
ole, ole — before a new chant took hold. “Three-nil to the weakest link,” to
the tune of Go West.
The weakest link? That is how Victor, the Deportivo forward,
had referred to Leeds after the quarter-final draw. “We were very pleased when
we heard Leeds would be our opponents,” he said. “They are the weakest team in
the competition. When you compare them to the others, we have got the easiest
draw.”
📅 | #OnThisDay in 2001, #LUFC defeated Deportivo de La Coruna 3-0 at Elland Road in the Champions League Quarter Finals pic.twitter.com/r8JsbIeCxq
— Leeds United (@LUFC) April 4, 2019
And yet here Deportivo were, 3-0 down and being dominated in
midfield by Dacourt, tormented by Kewell and dragged this way and that by the
ebullient Smith. “I would have to say that was our best performance,” O’Leary
says. “Every player, from one to XI, was nine out of 10 on the night. It was a
wonderful performance against a really strong team.
“I said I was delighted we got three because I knew how
difficult it was going to be for us in the second leg. Everyone probably
thought, ‘There goes David, talking them down again’, but I’d seen a lot of
tapes of them and I knew they were a really good team. We were poor in the
second leg. They scored twice and we just about hung on to reach the
semi-finals. If someone had predicted that back in August, I think they would
have been locked up.”
The semi-final first leg against Valencia was on O’Leary’s
43rd birthday. “I got a cake and everyone was making a fuss,” he says. “My dad
came over for the game, bless him. Again, the atmosphere at Elland Road that
night was amazing. Valencia had a wise old coach, Hector Cuper. He wasn’t the
friendliest, but he had a really good team. We were a bit disappointed with 0-0
because we would have liked to score, but we hadn’t conceded an away goal. That
was important, we felt. Looking at our record that season, I felt we could go
there and score an away goal. I kept saying that. ‘Keep it tight. And if we
score one goal…’”
In the space of seven days, Leeds faced Valencia at home,
Arsenal away in an important Premier League match and then Valencia away. It
was while holed up in the Sopwell House hotel in Hertfordshire after a 2-1
defeat at Highbury, a blow to their hopes of qualifying for the following
season’s Champions League, that their players had the bright idea of shaving
their heads. The only exceptions were Bowyer and Woodgate, who were advised not
to go for that shaven-headed look with a court case looming, and Harte, who
decided he would rather have a full head of hair when his wedding photos were
taken a few weeks later.
O’Leary was not impressed by the shaven heads. “I didn’t
like it,” he says. “I thought it was them being young and stupid. I went
absolutely mad with them. They were young boys and they thought, ‘Let’s look
lean and mean going into battle’. I’m not sure about that. I didn’t approve.
They thought I was an old prude.”
Beyond that, O’Leary felt that it played towards a certain
unwelcome narrative. In the build-up to the second leg, the Spanish media
portrayed Leeds, an increasingly familiar and increasingly bullish opponent, as
thugs. A few eyebrows were raised in the Leeds camp at one particular report
which suggested that Ferdinand and Matteo were notorious for being two of the
dirtiest players in the Premier League. Maybe it was just propaganda.
There was, though, another twist the day before the second
leg when Leeds learned that UEFA’s disciplinary body had suspended Bowyer for
three matches — which would also include the final if they got there — after
appearing to stamp on Juan Sanchez during the game at Elland Road. “That was a
massive blow for us,” O’Leary us. “It was a right kick in the teeth. Lee was
such an important player for us.”
And so to the longest day — the pre-match walk, the
pre-match meal, back to his hotel room to read and then re-read his notes.
O’Leary had made a point of saying in his pre-match press conference the night
before that his players had to seize the moment. He talked of how, as a young
player at Arsenal, he played in three FA Cup finals by the time age of 22. When
Arsenal lost the third of those finals to Ipswich, he took it for granted there
would be another one before long. There wasn’t. By the time he reached another
FA Cup final, he was 35.
He kept telling his players to enjoy the moment, but to
seize the moment. They had done that all the way from Munich via Milan, Rome,
Brussels and, in a roundabout way, A Coruna, showing absolutely no fear, but
now, at Mestalla, came a different type of test. The pressure was on now. The
stakes were so high.
It was a bridge too far. Valencia ran out comfortable 3-0
winners. Might it have been different if referee Urs Meier had spotted that
Sanchez appeared to use his arm to convert Mendieta’s cross for the opener? “I
didn’t want to mention that,” O’Leary says, not entirely convincingly. “Did it
change the result? Look, the better team won. I said to the players afterwards,
‘You should be really proud of what you’ve done this season’.”
He could not contain his frustration, though, when it came
to Smith, who at 3-0 down was sent off for a wild lunge at Vicente. Smith was
in tears when O’Leary came into the dressing room, but the manager was not in
forgiving mood. Looking back, O’Leary is inclined to blame himself. “I probably
made a poor man-management decision there,” he says. “We were losing and we
could see he was getting frustrated. I should have taken him off at that point.
Sometimes aggression got the better of Alan. But he was a winner.”
A bad night got worse when the team’s police escort to the
airport didn’t arrive. They had to wait on their bus outside the stadium while
Valencia’s supporters celebrated all around them. Talk about adding insult to
injury. “Have a look at what you could have won,” as they used to say on
Bullseye. And now, despite seeing a huge improvement in their Premier League
form since the turn of the year, Leeds were fighting a losing battle to make
sure they were back in the Champions League the following season.
Two days after Leeds were beaten 2-0 at Elland Road by Real
Madrid, in their opening game of the second group stage in November 2000, the
club agreed to break the British transfer record by signing Ferdinand from West
Ham in a deal worth £18 million. It was a deal, according to Ridsdale, that
signalled confirmation of Leeds’ status as a serious emerging force in English
and European football.
O’Leary was conspicuous by his absence from the press
conference to parade the new signing. He was delighted the club had signed
Ferdinand, whom he had recommended to the board that summer as the ideal
long-term replacement for Radebe, but he was shocked and alarmed by the size of
the fee — so much so that, according to Ridsdale, the manager refused to attend
the press conference because he “called it obscene and said he wasn’t prepared
to be part of it. As an employee of a PLC, when we had just spent a world
record fee (for a defender) to get him a player he wanted, that was not
appropriate.”
There is no love lost between O’Leary and Ridsdale, whose
manager-chairman relationship soured and has never healed. As Leeds descended
into financial meltdown over the years that followed, Ridsdale pointed the
finger at O’Leary for requesting signings such as Ferdinand, Dacourt, Viduka,
Keane and, later, Robbie Fowler and Seth Johnson as the club gambled more and
more money in pursuit of Champions League qualification. O’Leary portrays the
situation rather differently.
“They asked me to recommend players,” he says. “We had a
great defender and captain in Lucas Radebe — a great player and just a
fantastic man — but he was playing on one knee at times. He was willingly
playing on one knee because that’s the kind of man he is. They asked me for a
long-term scenario to recommend three players. The one I put at the top of my
list was Rio Ferdinand. I said it would probably cost £10 million to get him
from West Ham.
“There was a lot of negativity around Rio at the time. A lot
of people said he was too casual and made mistakes. But David O’Leary knows a
bit about centre-backs and I said that if money was no object going forward,
Rio was going to be a top-class player and he would be top of my list. I didn’t
think we had the money to go that way. It dragged on for months — so much so
that I was convinced Manchester United would come in and whisk him away — and
then I was told one day we had done a deal. When I was told it was £18 million,
I was in shock. I’m glad they didn’t ask me if I was prepared to spend £18
million on him. If they had, my bottle would have gone.”
This does not mean O’Leary was in any way unhappy that Leeds
signed Ferdinand. He says he was delighted and that the defender, “a great
player and a really good lad with it”, exceeded his high expectations. But at
the end of a truly memorable season, Leeds came fourth in the Premier League —
two points behind second-placed Arsenal, one point behind third-placed
Liverpool — and missed out on Champions League qualification on the final day
of the campaign.
The following season, which was overshadowed by the Bowyer-Woodgate
trial, they finished fifth and narrowly missed out again. And it was then that
the extent of Leeds’ financial difficulties began to emerge. By the end of the
2001-02 the club’s debt had soared to £78 million, with the club taking out a
£60 million loan secured against future season ticket sales, O’Leary says he
had no idea of the extent of the gamble that Ridsdale and the board took out
with every big-name signing added to the squad — not to mention the £20 a month
spent on an aquarium for the chairman’s office.
“I swear on my mum’s bible, I did not have a clue about the
finances,” O’Leary says. “I never felt I was under pressure to get into the
Champions League because I never knew about the gamble the club had taken,”
O’Leary says. “They never said anything to me about needing to get into the top
three or the top four and qualify for the Champions League. The last game of
the (2001-02) we beat Middlesbrough to finish above Chelsea and qualify for the
UEFA Cup and everyone seemed happy. Nobody ever said to me, ‘Yes, but we’re not
in the Champions League’.
“The shock came to me when I got the sack (in the summer of
2002) and things started to come out in the wash. I was astounded when people
told me what people were earning at the club. Nothing was ever hidden from me —
I could have gone and asked — but I was astounded. I played no part in any of
that. My part was the way I described it with Rio.”
With no Champions League revenue to help pay the bills and
ease their debt burden, Leeds faced meltdown. O’Leary was sacked; the club
initially announced he had departed by mutual consent, but then issued another
statement, later that day, saying he had been sacked. The line that came out of
the club at the time was that O’Leary had lost the dressing room, notably with
the publication of that book and with his observations on the Bowyer-Woodgate
case, after which he said “it would have made it easier (for the club) if they
had both gone inside.”
Mills, notably, has been scathing about O’Leary over the
years, criticising his tactics and man-management. “Some players might be
against you because they’re not playing or they haven’t got the contract they
want,” O’Leary says. “That’s normal. But the fans never bought into the cheap
shots about losing the dressing room. That was sickening, the way they (the
club) tried to peddle that. You would be amazed how many of those players
called up afterwards to say how disappointed they were.”
By the time O’Leary returned to Elland Road as Aston Villa
manager on Boxing Day 2003, Ferdinand, Woodgate, Keane, Fowler, Bowyer, Kewell,
Dacourt and Martyn had been sold as the club cleared the decks. Terry Venables,
who succeeded O’Leary as manager, had been sacked, as had Peter Reid, who came
next. Even Ridsdale had gone. Leeds were hurtling towards relegation.
“It was sad to see from a distance,” O’Leary says. “I
remember going back with Villa and everyone in the stadium coming to greet you,
but you’re trying to beat them because you’ve got a job to do. I couldn’t
believe they were going down. I remember later in the season reading a
newspaper article by Patrick Collins about the state of things at Leeds, how
bad it had got, and I was shocked reading it. I remember Villa had a game at
Southampton at the end of that season. We were challenging for Europe and on
that same day Leeds were relegated. It was very sad to see.”
O’Leary’s short-lived managerial career is a curiosity. The
way that Leeds team came together in the late 1990s and early 2000s — yes, that
young team, his “babies” — was impressive. It was fiercely competitive at the
top of the Premier League around that time, up against Sir Alex Ferguson’s
Manchester United, Arsene Wenger’s Arsenal, Gerard Houllier’s Liverpool,
Gianluca Vialli’s (and later Claudio Ranieri’s) Chelsea and Sir Bobby Robson’s
Newcastle United. To get into Europe took some doing. To reach UEFA Cup and
Champions League semi-finals in consecutive years was highly impressive.
He admits he made mistakes at Leeds. He feels he was a
better, wiser manager at Villa, whom he led to sixth place in the Premier
League in his first season, but that the ambitions were thwarted by financial
constraints as Doug Ellis prepared to sell the Midlands club. He never imagined
when he was sacked by Villa in the summer of 2006, at the age of 48, that he
would never manage in the Premier League again. His only managerial job in the
past 15 years was a season at Al-Ahli in the UAE Pro League. These days he is
an ambassador and adviser at Arsenal (something he prefers not to go into in an
interview looking back at that Champions League campaign 20 years ago).
He turned 63 last week and, if there were times when he
expected to return to management in the Premier League, he suspects that ship
has sailed. “I never had an agent,” he said. “By the time I left Villa things
had changed in football and it had started to be all about agents being in with
chief executives, pushing your name. I never had that. I probably should have.
But you don’t have four years at Leeds, got to two European semi-finals, if
you’re not doing something right. You don’t manage three years at Villa under
Doug Ellis if you’re not doing something right.”
There is one job that got away. He was interviewed by
Newcastle in the summer of 2009, after their relegation, and while his gut
feeling told him it wasn’t the right job, he does occasionally wonder what
might have been. “It didn’t feel right, but I probably should have taken it,”
he says. “It was probably a mistake. It’s a big club, another one-club city like
Leeds, great support. That would have been a good job.”
O’Leary still lives in Harrogate, north of Leeds, and, while
Arsenal was his first love, he retains great affection for the club where he
enjoyed his best years as a manager. “I go there when Arsenal aren’t playing,”
he says. “I fell in love with the club, the people, the area. It’s a one-club
city. Everything is about that club. The way it builds up through the week, you
feel that pressure. I enjoyed that pressure.”
The pressure of managing Leeds proved overwhelming for some
of the managers who came and went during the wilderness years that followed his
departure. For years there was dysfunction, disconnect and disappointment after
disappointment. And then, in the summer of 2018, came Bielsa.
“The club seems to be run the right way now,” O’Leary says.
“That’s the impression I have of the people behind the scenes. And they have a
really good manager. He’s at the perfect club, where they let him do what he
wants to do and he has a group of players who do what he wants them to do. He
does it his way. They’re a perfect fit for each other. It’s a great fit for the
Premier League.
“I never had any doubt they would do well this year. I did
an interview with BBC at the end of last season and I said this manager isn’t
going into the Premier League just to survive. They’ve been excellent, the
football they play. Stuart Dallas has been a revelation. Raphinha has been an
absolutely fantastic signing. Patrick Bamford speaks so well and has done so
well this season. I feel maybe there’s a bit of pressure taken off him without
the fans there. I’m delighted for him. I thought he might struggle to take
chances, but they’ve taken their chances.”
O’Leary hesitates. “I nearly ran him down the other day, you
know,” he says
What?! Bamford?!
“No, Marcelo! I was going through Wetherby. I nearly ran him
down. I gave him a beep and he shouted back at me.
“We go to the same church. I wouldn’t say I know him, but
it’s amazing he has ended up at Leeds because, funnily enough, I went to
Argentina many years ago when he was coaching their national team. I was
introduced to him then. I always admired him. I always tried to play a similar
way to how he plays. High-octane, in-your-face football.”
O’Leary is proud of that Leeds team 20 years ago. He regrets
that they did not win a trophy — he feels maybe they should have tried harder
for an FA Cup or a League Cup — but he looks back fondly on those times and on
a team who, by upsetting the establishment and ruffling so many feathers, came
so close to doing something truly extraordinary.
“I remember playing golf out in Girona with Johan Cruyff,
great man, and he told me we were like ‘football rock and roll’,” he says. “We
are great to watch and we were a bit mad with it. We had a style of play that
was completely different to the way others were playing at that time.”
And he still sometimes finds himself reflecting on that
night 20 years ago when Leeds really did find themselves “living the dream”. It
was so close, only to slip through their fingers, never to return. “I went back
to Valencia with Arsenal two seasons ago,” he says. I was sitting with the
chairman, Sir Chips Keswick, before the game and I must have just been very
quiet looking around at the stadium. He said to me, ‘David, are you alright?’
And I was just reminiscing. They were great times.”