Blackburn Rovers 0-2 Leeds United: Waiting

It’s hard to be patient two weeks before Christmas and five months before the end of the football season, when we want to know what presents we’re getting right now – nuts, coal, or promotion? Over at Ewood Park this weekend, Blackburn and Leeds played like enforcing parents, attempting to entertain with the idea not that good things come to those who wait, but that waiting is not the enemy of fun.

There are times when, under Daniel Farke’s orders, Leeds United can be a bit boring. At one point in this game, five yards from each other on the halfway line, Ethan Ampadu and Glen Kamara were tapping the ball to each other two, three, four, a thousand times, and I felt like shaking them both because (checks time) there’s only an hour left to do something! And (checks score) we’re only 1-0 up! And at this rate (checks profanity) Leicester and Ipswich are going to leave us dicking around with the play-offs!

Ethan and Glen were right, though. Leeds had a goal, and plenty of time, and it’s a long season. Urgency could wait. If Leeds were going to win in Blackburn it was going to be at their own pace, and this was one of several changes from recent events. They got through the opening ten minutes without a flurry of goals getting them scurrying around. They defended corners of every kind, short or long, dangerous or safe. Instead of becoming desperate, they scored at good times, half an hourish into the first half, half an hour into the second. Instead of conceding in stoppage time, they only gave up one header just before half-time that was saved and offside anyway. They wore a change kit but won. A wet and windy trip to Lancashire promised plenty to upset United’s impending festivities, but two goals and a clean sheet is among the least fussy ways to deflect not only the day’s opponents but the season’s narratives, and – all Leeds can do, chasing the top two – keep going.

Blackburn could have been tricky for Leeds because they’re similar to Leeds. The right term is patient in possession, with progression supplied by Sammie Szmodics. Unfortunately for Blackburn, since Ben Brereton Díaz skipped town for Villarreal, Blackburn need Szmodics to supply the finishing, too. Rovers kept creating situations, usually setting themselves up to put in a low cross, but were one or two better players short of being able to turn their situations into chances. Unless he can continue where his fourteen goals in nineteen games are taking him so far, Szmodics looks on course to become the most frustrated playmaker in the division, like Pablo Hernandez when he was trying to bring Pawel Cibiki and Jay-Roy Grot onto his wavelength.

I’m not saying Leeds should buy Szmodics – I am saying we should reanimate Pablo circa 2019, though. Without either possibility, Leeds are doing a better job of coping than Blackburn. Joel Piroe is fulfilling the attacking midfield role and Daniel Farke simply won’t discuss it, but it can’t be a coincidence that after watching him repeatedly driving out of the centre circle with the ball at Blackburn I went to bed that night and dreamed of Gary McAllister.

Farke’s right, though, that having Piroe at no.10 is not really a problem, because Leeds just play a different way, that isn’t relying on creativity from the hole. Creativity, in the front four, can come from anywhere, so United’s patience in possession has a different end in mind than Blackburn’s. The team isn’t looking for situations, it’s waiting for opportunities, usually as dictated by the skills of Crysencio Summerville or Georginio Rutter. The passing from the back into midfield isn’t designed to set up a cross or a cut-back, but to put a flair player on the ball in an unassuming position, assuming they’ll come up with a trick to make something of it and bring an attack to life. And so they do. Just when patience is stretching to breaking point, Summerville will spin inside, beat two, pass to Dan James, who can make things dangerous as the other three break in three or more directions.

The other way Leeds can play, which brought their first goal at Blackburn, is by breaking fast, although scoring still needed an element of surprise and what Farke called an ‘ice cold’ attitude to danger. Going over halfway after one of Rovers’ many corners, Rutter suddenly flailed, every long limb becoming involved in an attempt to backheel the ball inside and around James Hill. It wasn’t quite the unexpected manoeuvre he was trying for, but it worked anyway, as he was strong enough to keep the ball and open Blackburn’s half of the field. James was on the other wing, and James has been practising his finishing, and James fired low into the far corner, and if James isn’t careful, James will have people thinking about moving him to centre-forward again. Leeds nearly pounced for another a few minutes later, Rutter again winning a tackle he shouldn’t, James’ pace getting him to the loose ball ahead of two defenders, Rutter running into the six yard box only to miss James’ low cross.

The start of the second half was more about United’s defence, an increasingly groovy operation, with a rhythmic rigour towards lines, blocks and interceptions. The pre-assist for James’ goal, for those who like those, was a deft clearing header by Sam Byram that turned the play around. Leeds didn’t have control in midfield or easy ways to the front four, but getting in behind was only ever getting Blackburn as far as Pascal Struijk or Joe Rodon, and trying to isolate Archie Gray because he’s, cos he’s what? cos he’s young? That wasn’t working, either.

Speaking to The Guardian last week, Gray said, “My childhood dream was to win the Champions League with Leeds, captain England at senior level and win a Ballon d’Or.” He might not do those things from right-back, but United’s defensive resistance gave him the main part in the clinching goal. I don’t mean to underrate Ampadu’s tackle to stop a Rovers attack, or Rutter’s part in the one-two setup, or Summerville’s patient selection of the proper finish, but just look at Archie Gray’s feet. Collecting the ball from Wilf Gnonto’s lay-off and running inside was nothing unusual, but his possession of everybody’s movement from that moment was something special from a seventeen-year-old boy. He knew where Summerville was, about to break into space on the left, and he knew he’d have a better angle if he shuffled the defenders around by moving the ball off Rutter’s boots as if they were an extension of his own body. And his first time pass after the one-two, weighted and directed precisely into Summerville’s path, was sublime. What did he actually do? He redirected a rolling ball with his instep. What was it like? It was like heaven opening up and bestowing every dream of Archie’s childhood upon each and every one of us.

It earned Gray a slap to the cheek from Summerville, a finger wagging in his face from Rutter, and an end to the game that was about more waiting, through a couple of Rovers chances that lifted their frustration rather than their spirits, through seven minutes of stoppage time, through the final whistle and towards the later kick-offs. Leicester won easily, Ipswich won securely, Leeds won the right to keep eyeing them impatiently. At some point beating them both away should count for something, but not yet. ★彡

(Originally published at The Square Ball)