Facing things down

Relegations are quite rare in Leeds. Since 1960, Leeds United have dropped a division four times. Even just since we went down from the Premier League in 2004, Norwich City (to choose some villains at random) have been relegated six times.

Maybe that's part of our frustration this time around. Not just that we're going down, but that we might becoming the sort of club that does this sort of thing on a regular basis. Leeds could make like Norwich and come straight back up next season, but would we even want that? Our promotions to the Premier League in 2020 and out of League One in 2010 were special because we had to work hard at waiting for them, so in the end they felt deserved. Can romping the Championship be as much fun when you know, deep down, it's because you kept a bunch of Premier League quality players and augmented them thanks to parachute payments? I guess it's the nearest we'll come to knowing what it feels like to support Manchester City.

I've been through two relegations and both were weird. The focus is always on losing to Sam Allardyce's Bolton and dropping out of the Premier League in 2004, but the tears Sky Sports broadcast that day overshadow what came next: two more games. First was a manic 3-3 draw with Charlton at Elland Road, after which fans invaded the pitch, lifted Alan Smith to their shoulders and chaired him around. It was mixing a farewell with the vain hope that he might stay. The best bit, from my point of view, was sitting in the dugout with my mates and acting out substitutions, because there wasn't really much else to do. As relegations go it was quite a pleasant afternoon, definitely better than the next weekend at Stamford Bridge, where Kevin Blackwell had been installed in place of Eddie Gray, who he had been supposed to be assisting that season, and where Leeds fans sang 'If you go to Scum, you don't come back' and Smith flicked Vs at them.

There was nothing good natured about relegation to League One. In an angry, beery haze I'd given up my season ticket, unable to stomach Ken Bates and Dennis Wise on top of my increasing preoccupation with getting hungover before weekends even began. I kept being drawn back to Elland Road, though, and the last match against Ipswich had the air of one of those events that brings a community together, like a burning building. Everyone comes out to watch. And then they riot. When Ipswich scored an 88th minute equaliser to make the score 1-1 and put Leeds' fate almost beyond doubt, fans invaded the pitch, but not to lift Hayden Foxe to their shoulders. Instead it was about lobbing stuff at the startled Ipswich fans in the Cheese Wedge, trying to get the match abandoned in some desperate attempt to do... something? It was never clear.