Preston North End 1-1 Leeds United: Why are you like this

Sometimes we just have to accept people for who they are when they're doing what they always do.


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On 27th October, 1906, a young Leeds City footballer died during a match against Burnley. That much was known. But over the years what else was known about him has become mixed up and forgotten. Here is the story of the death of David 'Soldier' Wilson, and the story of his life.

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At least this year Illan Meslier didn’t punch any of Preston North End's players, while much of this game was crying out for someone to punch somebody. For most of the match, though, Leeds United were doing what they always do away: punching themselves in the face.

The other improvement from last year's trip to Deepdale was getting a draw rather than a defeat, and not spoiling Boxing Day but spoiling a strong midweek win over Middlesbrough that, along with barely noticing Derby County, almost had us over the last visit to Blackburn, Lancashire. My suggestion then almost turned out wise: Leeds should simply refuse to cross the Pennines in winter. Declare those mountains impassable. M62? Never heard of it. We went to Skipton and we turned back.

There wasn't much to welcome Leeds once they got to Preston. Nobody needs Peter Ridsdale looming over the breakfast bar but, according to his LinkedIn, this December he has extended his reach at Deepdale from publicity-forward director to chief executive officer, just in time for the January transfer window. In the dugout: not only Paul Heckingbottom but Stuart McCall, two Yorkshire stalwarts who have made hating Leeds a key part of their CVs even while, in Hecky's place, he was working there. With his face like a Victorian pick-pocket, Heckingbottom stood stern on the sideline, overseeing a managerial project he imagines as a mission to eradicate 'dickheads' from football. I don't know if he's noticed he has a boardroom, dugout and pitch full of them, but I suppose we all have our own definitions of dickheads.

I count the referee, John Busby, in mine. We can deduce something about his level from how this was his eleventh time reffing Preston, but only his second time reffing Leeds. This must be why Ben Whiteman's two yellow card fouls in two first half minutes got just one, why Robbie Brady was allowed to foul Dan James and scream at the assistant, why Milutin Osmajić — the player Meslier felled with a string bean strong arm last Christmas — was allowed to push the dickhead's dickhead boundaries and not get booked until the hour. As soon as these players were in trouble, Heckingbottom discreetly removed them himself, which is not supposed to be his job.

Leeds United's job was supposed to be winning and there's only so far they can blame Preston for not doing it right. I had a bad feeling from the start, as we're all starting to have about lunchtimes out of Leeds. After he started in Blackburn by playing Rovers onside for a big chance Big Joe Rodon is becoming my bellwether, and I wasn't super impressed after ten minutes when he went charging up the wing over halfway and played a no-look pass inside to a Preston player. Trying to find explanations for United's away form after the game, manager Daniel Farke suggested his players, "need to find a better excitement level in the game ... when Elland Road is rocking, buzzing from the start, perhaps they are in a bit more excitement mode in order to be then there with quick decisions, aggressiveness and with counter pressing." When Rodon is trying to play like Zidane in the first quarter-hour I don't think more excitement is the answer.

That said, Leeds could have done with less calmness from the centre-back for Preston's goal. This came from Leeds doing what they did too often in the game, running into the middle of all North End's defenders on the edge of their box. Brad Potts dispossessed Joe Rothwell and passed upfield to Osmajić, who span Pascal Struijk and was away into United's half. He crossed low across the penalty area and, rather than slide at the ball to block its way, Rodon slowed up with his arms out to let it bounce peacefully on its way past his feet. He wasn't aware that at the back post Jayden Bogle had been overtaken and outpaced by Potts, who shot the goal in off Meslier's hands.

All of this was bad, but the goal and what followed was all basically what was expected, which felt worse. There was a lot wrong with Preston's goal but Meslier, as the last line, should have and could have saved it. If this was 2020/21, he'd have flown across the goal with powerful palms to stun the ball away to safety. I never know what to say when he plunges into these Peacock-Farrellisms except that I wish he wouldn't, and I wonder sometimes whether it's been so long now that he's been like this that this is just what he's like.

Which was a question around some of the other deficient Peacocks. Brenden Aaronson had a huge chance to score a quick equaliser, getting free at the back post from a splitting pass by Joel Piroe and a touch from Sam Byram (at centre-forward), but he went for one of those finishes off the Champions League highlights where the ball is pinged across the goalie into the far top corner and he put it high and over and back in the direction of Leeds. Pat Bamford, on as a sub, had an even better chance to equalise with twenty minutes to go, but after brilliant movement to get free behind the goalie and defenders on the goalline, he tried to backheel Dan James' low cross and he backheeled it wide of the back post. Any donkey striker from the 1980s would have known how to score that, by getting the largest surface area of their firmest body part to meet the ball and bundle it over the line. But we knew, watching, Pat wouldn't think of that and we knew, watching, that what he tried to do wouldn't work. We didn't need him to be Thierry Henry in this moment. We didn't even need Lee Chapman. Some John Pearson tekkers would have done just fine.

These three big moments from Meslier, Aaronson and Bamford seem so typical of them that it's hard to know what anyone is supposed to be doing about it if this is just how they are, and who they are, as people. We can easily mosey back to talking about Marcelo Bielsa's transformative influence but even he couldn't stop Bamford putting simple chance after simple chance simply wide. I know people don't love expected goals but you can understand why Eddie Nketiah, Ryan Edmondson and Jean-Kevin Augustin had such good rep in Yorkshire when you look back to Bamford's 2019/20 expectation of 25 open-play goals, and his delivery of fourteen. Who can control game-defining decisions like Meslier diving with soft hands, Aaronson trying to take the roof off or Bamford trying to turn a tap-in into a Puskas award winner? Is this Farke's purview? Would Heckingbottom make this part of his no-dickheads policy? Or can we do no more than blaming the parents who raised them to be like this?

The nature versus nurture argument is a big part of football coaching and is why Farke points out things like how, "We won all statistics and normally should win (the game)." If his tactics are to blame for not winning, his tactics are also the reason Aaronson was in space to score at the back post, why Bamford was on the goalline to score, why ultimately Mateo Joseph was there to make sure Jack Whatmough put through his own goal for a stoppage time equaliser. Eighteen shots, 27 crosses, 65% possession, yadda yadda yadda. Nowhere on his chalkboards is Farke suggesting that, in crucial moments, Bamford should miss. Maybe Farke is guilty of not imagining that a striker who played for England once should need instructing, in such detail, on how to score from one yard.

This might be something the players can do among themselves, though. The 92nd minute equaliser came about because Manor Solomon, off the bench, showed determination to affect the result and got the ball to Dan James, the player most likely to affect the result all day (although even he must have been wondering why his life is like this when, in an earlier play-off final style twist, his shot to equalise kissed the bar). Another low cross went over and, with Bamford at the back post, Joseph went front post to force the goal. He, as part of his celebrations, was over to say something to Bamford to make him laugh, maybe letting him know the impossible is possible when you're on the goalline. If Bamford won't, Joseph will, or at least he'll get Whatmough to do it.

It's churlish to resist the wild celebrations when a stoppage time goal gets you something, but daft to think later that Leeds got enough, or are getting enough, on the road. It might not be possible to change the inherent characters of individual players, but Farke should be able to get this team out of whatever daftness is affecting them outside West Yorkshire or when they kick-off over lunch. Getting promoted without winning away is probably technically possible but it is definitely not desirable. And while it should be easy to transfer strong home form to other places, it's just as easy to let bad away form poison the waters in Wortley Beck. In some ways it already has, in that after beating Middlesbrough above its culverts in midweek questions were quickly asked about carrying that performance on in Preston. Now the grumbles will precede the home game against Oxford United, who might be bringing a brand new manager with them to help them bounce, before trips to Stoke, Derby and Hull dictate our merry Christmas, or otherwise. ⭑彡

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