Every tactical nuance, every permutation of results, all the formations and stats and touches and tackles and, above all, every kick of the ball comes down to one very simple aim: to win the game with style you can be proud of.
If Pablo Hernandez is going to heaven a nutmeg won’t do. He’ll need to argue his way through the gates, because as a footballer Hernandez has dared to be God.
While it was generous of Aleksandar Mitrovic to think he had to punch Ben White awake on Saturday, Alioski was instantly adjusted to the cardboard atmosphere. Like the best comedians, he takes fun very seriously. Whether his audience is a terrace of people or the stern printed face of a human sized labrador, his commitment to showbiz doesn’t waver.
106 days since Leeds United’s last game was a long time for Marcelo Bielsa not to change his plans, and after three cruel months of deteriorating certainties I’m grateful for the Peacocks’ constant rosarino.
By this time next week we’ll have been through the familiar cycle. Pre-match press conference (I hope, I miss Marcelo). Team news. Kick-off. A football match. Post-match analysis and, hopefully, happiness.
We can call it normal but it won’t be, especially if we get the happiness part. We’ve wished football back into our lives because we’ve missed having a good time, forgetting that in 100 years of United’s history, watching Leeds play football has been a funny way of enjoying ourselves.
English football has a plan. We have dates for the Premier League and Championship to resume. We have dates for them to end. We have kick-off times and broadcasting schedules. We also have 2,000 new cases of Covid-19 every day, but dwelling on that would only harsh the buzz of a sunny government briefing.
Winning is a drug, and this win unbalanced Bielsa, sending him into Quiroga’s arms.
Leeds and Bielsa are a perfect match; like Fred and Ginger, or Sid and Nancy.
