Robert Snodgrass means more - The Square Ball 2/2/22

SNODDY OI

Written by: Patrick Gunn

Contrary to popular belief, life outside the Premier League wasn’t all bad.

There were dark periods, yes. Owners who used the club as their own personal punch bag, treating players, staff, and fans alike as disposable game pieces, to be attacked one minute then appealed to the next. Losses so embarrassing they will forever be etched into our history. And yes, at times it felt like the club would forever remain locked in the clutches of the Championship, keeping our head just above water while teams like Hull and Huddersfield climbed above us, smugly waving from the promised land while we languished in the doldrums.

But honestly, there were positives too.

Unlike today, you could actually get a ticket for a game. That was a plus. No pre-programmed bots buying up seats and sticking them online for five times the price. We weren’t signing up to dodgy cryptocurrency deals or sending free shirts to ‘influencers’ who don’t support the club. And despite all the frustration and negativity that came with being in the wilderness, the difficulties we faced allowed for a genuine sense of camaraderie between the fans, players, and staff. It was, for all intents and purposes, us against the world. Hell, at times it was us against the club itself.

What it also allowed was for those fans who stuck around to form some genuine bonds with a selection of players who pulled on the shirt every week. We all love Raphinha, Llorente, Koch and the like, of course, but these players joined when the going was good. They’re modelling new kits in flashy, Adidas-funded videos and delivering press conferences in purpose-built media rooms, backed by brand logos worth more than most fans’ houses. At a certain level, we can’t relate to that. When you’ve been snapped by Terry George, topless in fishing overalls (Lee Erwin and Casper Sloth were the fishermen, not Terry), or given a post-match presser behind a three-legged table in front of a plastic advertising board plugging a local pie manufacturer? Then we can really talk. It’s easy to play for Leeds now. Back then it was a weekly struggle. Just like watching them.

I was put to thinking about those simpler years by the news of Robert Snodgrass’ release from West Brom on deadline day. It threw me, to say the least. To me, Snoddy was one of the players who epitomised the best of those times. An honest, personable, hard-working bloke who just seemed to click with the fans and enjoyed stepping onto the field where others couldn’t hack the pressure. It certainly helped that he could kick a ball pretty well. Signed from Livingstone for around £300,000 as a twenty year old, Snodgrass was an unknown entity. He had been on trial with Barnsley before we snapped him up, unable to impress enough to earn a deal at Oakwell, despite rumours of interest in him from Barcelona. Given his humble beginnings, there can’t have been many fans that knew much, if anything, about him. It was the only kind of deal the club could make at the time — low expenditure, low risk, possibly high potential. Many of those deals didn’t work out. But for all the Seb Sorsas we signed, there was an occasional Snodgrass.

By the time Snoddy left for Norwich (yeah, you read right youngsters), he had become one of the few members of the team fans felt they could count on week in, week out. Despite being offered a new deal by Neil Warnock, Snodgrass felt the prospect of playing in the Premier League was too important to turn down, with Leeds (as was so often the case) nowhere near making it there themselves. In a later interview, he pointed to the uncertainty at the club as another reason for his departure, with the future of Leeds’ ownership muddled by a never-ending dance between Ken Bates and the incoming GFH. All things considered, Snoddy got out just in time.

The next few years were like flicking through an ex-partner’s Instagram page from your bathroom as they posted shot after shot of glamorous venues, expensive meals, and exotic holidays. After impressing at Norwich, he went to Hull for £6m (not exactly exotic, I grant you, but that says more about where we were than I care to think about), and then West Ham for around £10m after impressing even more. Every move brought more plaudits and more adulation from more fans and more pundits. Aston Villa and West Brom followed, and the frequency of appearances dropped, but the player remained the same — consistent and committed. It was agonising watching him playing but not wearing a white shirt. Like so many of his era, he went down as one that got away, and there was nothing we could do about it.

It was surprising, then, to see him released from West Brom. Despite sitting in the play-off positions, there seems to be some serious discontent around the Hawthorns, plenty of which is stemming from their manager, Valerien Ismael. By all accounts, a disagreement with Ismael led to Snodgrass being ‘frozen out’ earlier in the season, and he hasn’t featured since. Realistically, it seems unlikely this would be anything to do with Snodgrass as a player. To release such a useful, dedicated footballer with half the season left speaks of something deeper than a doubt in his ability. Equally, it seems unlikely that Snodgrass, given the dedication he often offers to a club, would have removed himself from selection. All of a sudden, I was asking that same old question… could he do a job?

Would Robert Snodgrass have survived at Marcelo Bielsa’s Leeds? Possibly. Although possibly not. Bielsa may have arrived too late for Snoddy, and the physical demands of his system may have been a little too much for a seasoned pro pushing into his thirties. There’s no doubt, though, that he would have loved the challenge. We’ve seen how players of all shapes and sizes have been transformed in the last few years, and we know Bielsa looks for attitude as much as aptitude in his charges, so who’s to say what could have happened? I can’t deny that seeing Snodgrass on the back of a Leeds shirt again would have me feeling all kinds of things.

But Snoddy is a player from another era of Leeds United, best remembered as the player he was. He’s a milestone for the progress the club has made. I used to look at him and wish for the life we could have had if things had worked out. Now he’s a happy reminder of how things used to be. A friendly smile from a darker past. In times of adversity, he was one of the few who stood up and demanded more from a club that could have faded away for good. We can’t forget about players like Robert Snodgrass because, without him, now wouldn’t mean as much as it does.