Marcelo Bielsa transformed Leeds with decency, humility and hard work - Guardian 27/2/22
The manager’s sacking is heartbreaking because he energised the club and reminded a city what football is really all about
James Riach
To the outside, the adulation that Leeds United supporters
hold for Marcelo Bielsa may appear strange, bordering on fanatical, perhaps
even delusional. But to those who have followed his every move over four
exhilarating years at Elland Road, his departure leaves a hole not only in the
dugout but also in the heart.
In Chile, they call themselves “widows of Bielsa”. The same
sentiment can be found at Marseille and Athletic Bilbao, teams who look back on
the Argentinian’s time with wide eyes and palpable nostalgia. Leeds are at the
beginning of this undoubtedly painful process, coming to terms with life
post-Bielsa, a life that will never quite be the same again.
Discussing a football manager in such reverential terms
might seem hyperbolic. However, what Bielsa has done for the club and the city
in many ways transcends sport. He is a man who sees the corporate, avaricious,
sportswashing modern game for what it is, yet managed to navigate his way
through it all and still hold on to his principles: decency, humility and an
unwavering work ethic.
Without wishing to get too existential, he has made fans
question why they bother watching football in the first place. Is it for
trophies? Not unless you follow a cabal of elite clubs. Is it about nicking a
goal and holding on for a result? You might as well go balance the books in the
boardroom. Is it about entertainment, identity and sticking two fingers up at
anyone who calls you reckless? You bet.
It’s why Leeds supporters were still singing his name even
after the poor performances that resulted in his cruel sacking. It’s why Leeds
supporters will sing his name long after he has gone. It’s why England
midfielder Kalvin Phillips wrote on Sunday: “You saw in me what I didn’t even
see in myself.”
In many ways, the rise of Phillips embodies all the work
Bielsa has done. Like most of the squad he inherited in 2018, Phillips was
drifting, searching for his role in a team of misfiring misfits flailing for
land in the bottom half of the Championship. Stuart Dallas was half the player
he is now, Mateusz Klich was deemed surplus to the extent he had been shipped
out by the previous regime on loan to Utrecht.
Within seven weeks of pre-season training, Bielsa
transformed the group into an entirely new team. They were comfortable on the
ball, played one- and two-touch cushions all over the pitch, and never stopped
running. It was as if someone had finally found the mains supply at Elland
Road, plugging the old ground directly into the Northern Northern Powergrid and
sending a surge of voltage pulsing through brains and bones.
New players have joined, but the team that currently hovers
over the Premier League relegation zone still holds core members of the first
game against Stoke City. If loyalty has proved to be the undoing of Bielsa, it
is surely a fatal flaw worth celebrating.
For all his idiosyncrasies, his trips to Costa Coffee and
Morrisons, his former flat above a Wetherby sweet shop, what shone brightest
was Bielsa’s humble perspective. During the pandemic, when Leeds lost many club
legends and the whole world faced a daunting new reality, it was a comfort to
many that a man of integrity was leading the club. Throughout his reign Bielsa
never criticised a referee, never blamed VAR or spoke in negative terms about
any individual. When “Spygate” rumbled on he publicly chastised himself and
paid the fine out of his own pocket. He was a man you wanted in your corner
when life was out of control.
Bielsa was the best possible manager for Leeds at the best
possible time. After so many years of stagnation, years of waste and anger, he
proved the perfect antidote. In the early days there were constant fears that
he would simply leave, that the Leeds curse would snare him, yet he stuck to
his beliefs even after a catastrophic end to his first season.
And it wasn’t the grenade-wielding, pitch-invading Bielsa of
his youth. It was a man who knew this may be the last major test of his guiding
principles, a final shot at showing the world how football should be played.
Rarely can there ever have been a greater connection between
supporters and manager. More than anything, he has allowed fans to dream again.
His sacking doesn’t simply feel like the loss of a genius manager, rather, the
loss of an old friend.
So long, El Loco.