Eight years later, Sam Byram is the future again
The old guard are supposed to hand down to the people who came after them, but next season is a stage for younger lads with longer stories.
The old guard are supposed to hand down to the people who came after them, but next season is a stage for younger lads with longer stories.
Smith, Milner, Lennon. Twenty-three, seventeen, sixteen. Rothwell, Horsforth, Chapeltown. 2004 wasn't only a battle against relegation, and liquidation, but to save the future that the club's youth prospects still teased was possible.
Marcelo Bielsa says football is getting worse because of the pressure and the scrutiny and the blame and the accusations. Or to put it another way, Lee Dixon's commentary.
As an image of pure optimism I don't think this can be bettered. It's a weird image. It's a great image. God, Ian Rush was rubbish though.
Welcome to the start of a project that will take approximately (checks calculations), oh, only eight years, to write about every (*most) Leeds player since 1992. And it all begins with Aapo Halme.
To look at Archie Gray playing for Leeds was to see a golden era come back, to forget all the market forces crushing modern football and feel the glorious 1960s and 70s again. A smiley badge on the away kit next season won’t do that the way Archie Gray could do that.
When Bielsa placed his hands on Christiansen's shoulders before this game began the moment passing between them contained multitudes, from Vurnon Anita to Jay-Roy Grot.
The best argument for convincing ourselves that Red Bull won't change Leeds United's name or colours is the weight of our heritage, but it is also the danger.
The goal was the beginning of the end. A sinking feeling, a knowing glance. A resorting to hope — maybe it'll be different, this time — that was contradicted every time you looked at the players.
A baton will be passed on Sunday, a family inheritance. But Andy Gray will be handing down a beginning, not a destiny.