Neil Kilkenny yelling at Ken Bates
This was something else Bates hadn't counted on. Neil Kilkenny often got mixed reviews from Leeds supporters, but a bond had grown between the fans and the players who rescued the club from League One.
Ken Bates' diabolical insight, used at every club he owned, was that while players could be popular with fans, loyalty always went first to the institution. It takes a lot to separate a supporter from their club, but players come and go. So if the official club media channels portrayed players as mercenaries trying a swindle with their contract demands, fans would take the club's — Bates' — side against them. The players couldn't say anything back, because Bates controlled the club's media and unauthorised interviews meant fines, and more criticism. This was useful in contract negotiations — why should a player get a pay rise when the fans don't like him? — and transfers, because by the time the player left, the fans would have heard so much about their contract, they'd be happy to see them go. Supporters would keep handing their money over to the club, and the chairman wouldn't have to give it to the players or their agents he said were 'robbing' it.
Kilkenny's exit in summer 2011 was typical: he was offered a contract in October, turned it down because he could get more elsewhere than the small increase being offered on his League One wages, then spent the rest of the season being accused of greed.
"I didn't want to leave and I made that clear so many times last season," Kilkenny said. "I had three-and-a-half years with the club and I loved my time there. The way it all finished was really disappointing and I thought my performances over the whole of last season proved my worth. The club always got 100 per cent from me and I felt I'd earned a better offer than the one they gave me. Sometimes that's how football works out but I want to make it clear that I wanted to stay, and in a way my hand was forced."
Bates had a shelf life, though, and underestimated how fans would keep getting attached to good players while his schtick became tired. That's why the start of 2011/12 brought protesting fans ("Sickpots," Bates called them, and "dissidents") onto the streets. Kasper Schmeichel was sold to Leicester while he was on holiday, surprised to learn from Sky Sports News that he'd turned down a contract offer he didn't know about. An offer from Saint-Étienne for Max Gradel was portrayed as too good to refuse, but Bates then claimed he'd been screwed by Gradel's agent and the exchange rate so the fee couldn't be used for new players. After months being criticised by Bates on the club's in-house Yorkshire Radio station, Bradley Johnson — who had tried to answer back on TalkSport — and Neil Kilkenny left on free transfers, to Norwich and Bristol City. Three of those departing players had come up from League One with Leeds, while Schmeichel was obviously better than his replacements: Andy Lonergan for £200,000 and Paul Rachubka for free. Michael Brown also came for free to replace Johnson and Kilkenny, plus Danny Pugh, Darren O'Dea and Andy Keogh (all on loan); then Mikael Forssell and Mika Väyrynen turned up, right at the end of the transfer window, again for free.
Leeds had finished 7th in their first season after promotion from League One, maybe a couple of new defenders away from pushing for the play-offs and promotion to the Premier League. Instead the team had been gutted and the East Stand turned into a building site for new corporate facilities, being paid for by a loan against future season ticket sales. Neil Kilkenny had noticed. "I looked at the team that has been playing recently for Leeds and there were only three players from last season," he said. "That is really disappointing for a club like Leeds. They should be keeping that team together from last year and adding a couple more."
This was something else Bates hadn't counted on. Enfield born but Australia raised midfielder Neil Kilkenny often got mixed reviews from Leeds supporters, but a bond had grown between the fans and the players who rescued the club from League One. That put Kilkenny in a rare position so that, when he hammered a 25 yard equaliser in off the bar for Bristol City at Elland Road, then turned and ran to the West Stand, blowing angry kisses, pointing and shouting, there was a moment when the fans wondered what was going on — then delight when they worked it out. He wasn't looking at anybody else, wasn't targeting anybody else, wasn't gesturing at anybody else, but Ken Bates. Stick it to 'im, Killa! Give it to Ken!