Leeds United 0-0 Middlesbrough: Purple
Perhaps one day putting my money into the club and into the hands of a Leeds fan won't feel like completely opposite things, which is a lot of what this pre-match protest was about.
Apparently, 20,424 people went to Elland Road to see this game.
I was there, and I would say that number has been arrived at thanks to some generous accounting, perhaps including Scandinavian fans who bought tickets but couldn't attend, first because of Sky's inconsiderate request to move the game to a Monday, second because of Leeds United's pigheaded refusal to compromise and play it on Saturday lunchtime.
It's a shame that the attendance was so low, anyway, because it meant fewer people saw the brilliant things that were happening, at last, on the side of the East Stand, and the good things that were happening, for once, on the pitch.
There were grins outside the ground, and winks, and people on their mobile phones: 'Above the shop' ... '17 reasons' ... 'it says Time To Go Massimo' ... 'Bates is on it, GFH'; laughing, sharing the news that Leeds United supporters were beaming their views onto the (rental) home of Leeds United itself, news that was shared nationally, internationally, reaching around the world.
One guy, in his sixties I guess, must have seen me taking a photo and spotted a smile on my face. "Bloody brilliant," he said to me as he passed. "Isn't it? And about time."
Approximately 230 fans did this, which is a small fraction of even a sub-20,000 crowd. But only around 65 fans paid for the advert that went up last week, got international media attention, then was taken down when Cellino's lawyers — well, Leeds United's lawyers, which may be an important point when it comes to billing — put more legal pressure on the local company that owns the hoarding than they could be reasonably expected to bear.
That's an increase of 330% supporters in a matter of days, which is what's called momentum; and which, set against a backdrop of chronic apathy that has caused attendances to dwindle, is a significant achievement. Several managers — more frequently in recent months — have attempted to turn around the Leeds United oil tanker on the pitch, and failed; choose a metaphor for the Leeds United support, be it Oil Tanker, Sleeping Giant, Sleeping Beauty, or Big Dumb Tired Uninterested Rock, and it's incredible to see it being prodded into life again, first by a few, then by a few more, then a few more.
It's also beautifully Leeds, because it involved fans standing together in the dark. Not just on Monday night, to admire the projection; but over the weekend, when Leeds supporters contributed £4,000 — for a £2,600 target — with no idea what they were contributing to. Several naysayers on social media gleefully pointed out that those of us who paid in — I stuck £20 in — could all have wasted our money on the dampest of sponges, or even that all our money could be stolen and that we would deserve it because we were mugs, being mugged.
Well, maybe. But stealing from other Leeds United fans isn't a trait I associate with any Leeds United fans I know, and as such, I felt confident giving £20 to some trusty Leeds United fans to do something good with. Other Leeds United fans' experience of Leeds United fans they know may vary, but if so, I'd suggest they ought to review the company they keep.
And let's face it, I wasn't wrong. My money was not — surprise surprise — stolen. And what bang did I get for my buck? Well, for twenty quid, an opinion I share and an aim I believe would be for the betterment of Leeds United was broadcast on a grander scale than I could ever have managed with twenty quid on my own; a scale that is too grand to be ignored; and a scale that is only possible with popular support.