Leeds United snarling gives Farke his wish as fans send a clear message - Graham Smyth's Verdict — YEP 18/2/24
Nothing summed up the relentlessness of this last period quite like the Leeds United fan sleeping soundly standing up on the train to Plymouth.
By Graham Smyth
Or the one swaying slightly up the aisle of a packed
carriage of the Leeds-bound service on Saturday evening who enquired where, on
God's green earth, we were now. "Tiverton Parkway, mate. "Jesus
Christ."
Bristol City away, Plymouth Argyle away, Swansea City away
and Plymouth Argyle away, again. An untold toll on bank accounts, holiday
entitlements, relationships and livers. Part adventure, part slog. An endurance
race, in which any finishers deserved t-shirts, medals and certificates.
Maybe, finally, at Plymouth for the second time in such a
short period, it was telling on the players too. This was not a performance to
write home about in particularly glowing terms. They had to gut this one out,
in torrential rain again. They were narky with each other. Joe Rodon barked at
Glen Kamara. Archie Gray barked at Rodon. Crysencio Summerville snarled at
anyone whose pass didn't quite find him. Like a band coming to the end of a
mammoth world tour, the intensity of being in each other's pockets maybe frayed
the edges of patience just a little.
But it was more than that. It was the mentality that Daniel
Farke has been banging on about all season, the soft skills coming out in hard,
spiky verbal form. This was Leeds fighting their way to an eighth successive
win, demanding of one another in order to protect that almost-immaculate 2024
defensive record. They wanted this win badly. That much was obvious. And at the
end of it, as they all embraced and permitted themselves smiles and laughter,
they were 2-0 winners sitting second in the Championship.
Given all that Leeds have achieved since the turn of the
year, there was little room for complaint. It was not the sparkling attacking
football that tore Swansea or Rotherham United apart, not often in the 90
minutes anyway, and it was not vintage stuff in possession in general. Farke
was happy though, with the clean sheet, with the defensive steel, with his
goalkeeper's decision making and his team's maturity. The fans were happy
because they travelled home with the wind of another win in their sails, memories
of two fine goals and full-time celebrations. Only those responsible for so
many Leeds fans having to take two full days to do the trip could grumble,
having been serenaded for the guts of 90 minutes. The away end sent a sweary,
crystal clear message to the broadcasters, who duly had to move the location of
their post-game interview at short notice. What's a little inconvenience,
between friends, when compared with 2am Saturday morning coach starts?
Maybe it was fitting that Leeds and their supporters got
what they wanted from the game without giving television the satisfaction of
their very best, because it was far from a classic for neutrals sitting at home
on the sofa. And yet it started in a manner that would have had the broadcast
selection crew rubbing their hands. Leeds were without Patrick Bamford, again,
and though the striker has been a game changer thanks to his profile as a
targetman and running-in-behind number 9, there is more than one way to skin a
cat. Leeds can hurt you in so many different ways. They counter at pace,
they're unpredictable thanks to players like Georginio Rutter, they have
centre-backs who can suddenly burst forward to break lines or play balls over
the top and when their wingers and full-backs rotate positions to link up they
do so at such speed that they're in behind your defence and darting towards the
near post in the blink of an eye.
There was a little of everything in the opening minutes and
certainly enough to suggest the visitors were on it. Rutter and Joel Piroe
shaped to run beyond the defence to create space. They played close enough
together to find each other with one-touch passing. Ethan Ampadu drove forward
to start a move that Kamara's offside brought to an end just as Summerville put
the ball a fraction wide. Gray saw a chance to intercept and catch Plymouth
playing out from deep.
An opening goal was a natural extension of the early
promise. Even if Rutter's high sweeping ball into the area, delivered on the
turn in a flash, was more speculative than spectacular, it showed real
quickness of thought. Willy Gnonto's quickness of foot then turned it into a
1-0 lead. His speed took him onto it, then onto a first touch that almost got
away, before squeezing a shot inside the far post.
The floodgates did not open, however. There followed a
period of frustration. Passes were not going to feet. Illan Meslier was giving
Piroe fight balls in the air. Summerville's angst was starting to simmer. And
Junior Firpo's shaky couple of moments led to a half chance for Jordan Houghton
in the Whites area.
It was a messy period, right up until first half stoppage
time when Ilia Gruev got on the ball and played shorter, more accurate stuff
into the feet of Gnonto, or in behind the back line. That was what led to
Ashley Phillips putting a Gnonto cross through his own net in clinical fashion,
only to look up in relief as an offside flag saved him.
Possession was difficult in the second half, too. The ball
just wasn't sticking up top, Rutter struggling to retain it and midfielders
struggling to get involved in it meaningfully. So Plymouth made a real contest
of it and exerted some pressure, without ever creating too much more than a
dangerous unfinished cross. Ampadu shone in this spell, popping up exactly
where you would want him and executing his defensive work exactly as Farke
would want.
Kamara and Gruev eventually helped to restore some control
to the game and Meslier's long ball eventually worked, putting Rutter in behind
down near the corner where he laid it off to Summerville - but the winger's
off-day continued with a wild attempt at his trademark finish. A second goal
was going to be killer for plucky Plymouth and Farke's sense of what the game
needed was directly responsible for how it arrived. He swapped Piroe and Rutter
so that the flagging Frenchman could go up top and the Dutchman could do the
heavy lifting in terms of covering distance. And when Piroe picked up the ball
in a central midfield area he looked up to spot and find the run of Rutter, who
drove goalward and smacked the ball forcefully through the legs of a defender
and the goalkeeper.
All that remained was for Meslier to deal with a couple of
potentially hazardous situations and Dan James, on as a replacement, to crack
the crossbar with a fine free-kick, but this one was done with Rutter's
72nd-minute strike and Leeds marched on towards Leicester City, at Elland Road,
on Friday night. The days in between will allow weary travellers to rest their
wallets and enjoy home comforts, and Farke will rest his stars.
Journeys as long as the one from Plymouth to Yorkshire give
plenty of thinking time and even the most exhausted or beer-addled minds could
grasp the enormity of what Leeds have done in these past six weeks or so, and
the subsequent mathematics. What was once widely perceived as a run race, an
automatic promotion impossibility and an insurmountable gap, could on Friday
night be just a six-point difference between Leeds and leaders Leicester. Just
getting to within something like striking distance, getting from A to B since
2024 kicked off, is a journey worth taking. Yes, the Championship is a slog,
but Leeds right now are travelling in style. They're relentless. Just where
might Farke take them next?