It's hard to imagine not wanting to play for the club that seems like your destiny, so it's hard to imagine the depression that meant Andy O'Brien couldn't take to the pitch for Leeds. But not playing was the only way for O'Brien to get back in control of a life controlled by football.
7-0 is an alluring scoreline. 6-0 is sexy but seven is heaven. So what about the Peacocks' seventh-heavenly vanquishing of Middlesbrough back in 1930? That must have been quite some Leeds team, right, one of the best of the pre-Revie era?
Things might have been different if Kevin Blackwell had trusted a younger Andy Keogh. But by the time he came back, Keogh wasn't the only big blonde striker in town.
Opinions of Lonergan did improve once everyone remembered he wasn't Rachubka, he was the other one. That still meant shivering memories of the 3-7 to Forest, and scepticism after he'd seemed to struggle with the pressure of playing for Leeds.
Andy Hughes helped Leeds rediscover its sense of footballing self, and helped ensure the club was delivered from its worst times with some of its favourite memories.
Leeds would be a very different place after a century of intra-city rivalry, maybe solving professional Mancunian and Factory Records impresario Tony Wilson's 1990 assessment of Leeds as a city full of "fucking psychopaths".
It was a shock, for anyone who hadn't kept up Andy Gray's career, to see the one-time inheritor of Uncle Eddie's balletic wingplay now a big targetman heading in a free-kick.
I can imagine Howard Wilkinson, in his more wistful moments, remembering that Andy Couzens never gave him any trouble, never let him down, fond of him in ways he never was about Tomas Brolin.
If joining Leeds was a surprise to Pedraza, he didn't show it, striding purposely into Huddersfield's half and forcing a save from 25 yards as if Championship football was easy.
More than seventy years after Leeds beat Brentford at Elland Road, let's remember November 29th in honour of Leeds United's best ever player.