The idea of divorcing Leeds United – or at least experimenting with a trial separation – came to me on 22 March in the Apple Store in New York. I'd only been in the city a few hours, on what was supposed to be the trip of a lifetime, and my wife thought she'd like to ogle an iPad before the gadget's early April launch. I'd worked out that the time difference would get us there about 10 minutes before the end of United's game against Millwall. The shop – a geek's paradise – is stuffed with display computers connected to the internet; it would take just a few seconds to commandeer one of them and check how things were going at Elland Road.
Leeds were 2-0 down, which was no great surprise. Since being the runaway leaders of League One at Christmas, and apparent certainties for promotion, United had collapsed spectacularly and were being sucked back into the chasing pack. A win against Millwall, who have since passed Leeds out, would have steadied the ship but after the first 10 minutes, judging by reports of the game, that was never remotely likely.
In the Apple store, I sighed theatrically, assaulted the computer which had produced the information, and uttered a loud whisper which contained at least one expletive. For a few moments the feelings of disappointment and frustration and anger were intense. Leeds United were going to let me down again, I knew. Just as certainly did I know that I wasn't going to put up with it anymore.
I've been a fan, loyally, stupidly, actively, for 40 years, since the day of the 1970 FA Cup final, which Leeds lost (of course) to Chelsea. For seven of the last 10 years, including the three they've spent in League One, I've had a season ticket, even though I work Saturdays and can't get over as much as I used to. A few years ago I justified the expense on the basis that the club needed the money more than I did. But that was before the recession, and a consequent pay cut, and before Leeds began to test that loyalty to breaking point.
Over the last 10 years I reckon I've spent more than €10,000 following them – between tickets, hotels, flights, match programmes, replica shirts, pyjamas, t-shirts, hoodies, caps, hats, fleeces, pens, cigarette lighters, slippers and wallets. That's just the stuff I still have. For a few years in the 1990s, I was listed in the phone book under the name Rodney Wallace, a tribute to one of the stars of the last Leeds team to win the English league.
I say all this not to suggest that I'm the greatest Leeds fan ever (far from it), but to demonstrate that supporting the team, and the club, has been an important part of my life. I've come to love the city of Leeds, where people have always been ridiculously friendly to me. I've watched those same people suffer as their home-town club reached the brink of extinction a few years ago, and sensed and shared their excitement earlier this season when it seemed that the slide had stopped and been reversed. Beating Manchester United at Old Trafford in the FA Cup in January raised hopes that we might be able to do it again in the league 18 months hence. That victory seems particularly hollow now; Leeds have since developed the habit of losing 3-0 to Swindon, something they've done twice in the last 10 weeks.
In the Apple Store, all this flashed through my mind. So did a lot of other things. For some reason I suddenly reconceived my support of Leeds as an abusive relationship, one which had lasted decades, to which I'd given heart and soul, financial commitment and love. In return, I had received almost nothing – the occasional piece of silverware notwithstanding. It was a one-sided marriage; me all give, give, give, Leeds all take, take, take. Viewing Leeds United and me through the prism of a relationship – perhaps a result of being in the home of Sex And The City – clarified a lot for me. As I left the Apple Store that Monday, and walked up Fifth Avenue in the rain, I realised what I had to do. I had to say goodbye to Leeds United, at least for a while.
And so I will not be renewing my season ticket, I will not be visiting Elland Road, I will not attend any play-off matches Leeds may have between now and the end of the season, I will not watch them on television, I will not idle away pointless hours on the website until such time as they have crawled their way out of League One. In relationship terms, Leeds need to man up, do something for me, and reward decades of love and loyalty with a little commitment of their own.
If this makes me seem like a fair-weather fan, I don't care. I've had enough disappointment, enough frustration, enough hissy fits in New York shops to last a lifetime. I didn't sign up for better or worse (though I've often behaved as if I did), and I'm entitled to walk away from Leeds until such time as somebody – chairman, manager or players – gets a grip of the club, reverses its fortunes and respects its fans.
Of all the insults that Leeds have perpetrated on me (and all their other fans) in recent years, this season's collapse is the worst. They could still be promoted, of course, but it should have been wrapped up by now. Last Monday's televised game against Yeovil was chosen by Sky a few months ago to be Leeds's promotion party; instead it was a microcosm of the season – a bright start followed by an abject second-half collapse in which they barely hung on to win.
I watched some of it (I never said separation would be easy) and as I did I recalled the plane journey to New York only a few weeks before.
One of the inflight movies was The Damned United, a highly enjoyable rendering of a very enjoyable book about Brian Clough's managerial career. For a second, as I watched Leeds struggle to cope with the feistiness of mighty Yeovil, I wondered if there was something in this business of the club being damned. But of course that is superstitious nonsense. Leeds United are not damned; they're just not good enough. It's time for me to acknowledge that and to move on, not to another club, but to a state of proud singledom. I'm still a fan, and Leeds can have me back any time they want. But next time it needs to be a relationship of equals.
Without that, I'd prefer to be on my own, with my memories.
ddoyle@tribune.ie
You can't opt out. Like a disease, it's not a question of choice for a fan. Whether celebration or (almost invariably) agony there's no get-out clause.
My God,
If that doesn't encapsulate the feelings of the fans, then I don't know what does. I have supported Leeds since 1965. My first match at ER saw us beat the West ham of Moore, Peters and Hurst - easily.
I'm old enough to remember (with great clarity) how Sprake, Reaney, Bremner, Hunter, Charlton and Cooper completely nullified Ferencvaros in the Fairs Cup Final in Hungary; Florian Albert et al, and who, at the time, Bill Shankly claimed were the best team in Europe - they certainly had a world class attack.
I vowed to do the same as you Diarmuid, after the Millwall mess, only to tune in to some on-line radio link the week after to hear us humiliated by Swindon. I want badly to leave, but to use your analogy I just keep walking back into the house to take more abuse.
Come on Leeds, show us you care as much as we do. Give us something back! I can't take anymore of this and I feel sure that if we don't make it out of this horrendously poor league this season, then we never will.
Even the great days were peppered with heart-breaking failure of the suicidal kind and, even when it wasn't self inflicted, there was always a referee on hand to make sure we couldn't win ('67 FA Cup Semi, West Brom '71, Salonika, Paris, you name it).
Sometimes I think that's what keeps me going - the fact that everyone else wills us to lose and so it makes me support Leeds even harder. I want, so badly, not to have to listen to Carlisle beat us on Tuesday. But I'll have to, it's like self harming I suppose. And I'll be there against Bristol Rovers, on the last day, to hear the last rites of our season (and maybe our future as a "big club") being read.
I fear Diarmuid, that our attendances next season will only serve to show that you and I are not alone in not being able to take it anymore.
Misery.
i too have followed Leeds for nearly forty years on and off and i must admit,standing at yeovil last week made me realise that ,once and for all, on the pitch at least ,we are finished.this great club has been carried by us,the best fans in the world for the last ten years , without our blind faith, we would have been defunkt long ago.its heartbreaking to see us this bad, god knows what will happen to us should we go up, we will be hammered every week anyway.marching on regardless friends..............
You know what? If you want to stop being a Leeds fan, then go ahead. I don't think anyone will really be that upset.
United are a special club. We are unique in almost every way. We're allegedly hated by everyone, and the media probably blame us for global warming and terrorism. We've never had a dull season. We have the best support in England - over 20,000 for division 3 football with a pricing structure that charges £27 for a seat behind the goal against Oldham on a Tuesday night.
I can't just stop supporting Leeds. They're my local club, and I have a duty to support them. But there's more than that. I want to stay on this rollercoaster, right till we get back into the Premiership - because then I, and about 25,000 others, can claim to have witnessed the biggest revivial in footballing history, where a "fallen giant" retakes their rightfull place in the top flight.
Every "down" that Marching On Together speaks about hurts, yes. There's no denying we have too many "downs" for any football fans liking. But I believe that just makes every "up" all the more sweet. Look at the Old Trafford result - we beat the scum, roared on by 9,000 diehard fans - and it was no more than we deserved after years of heartbreak.
To conclude, I don't believe you're a real football fan if you can just cut your ties with United. You have to ask yourself why you supported them in the first place - if you want "glory", non existant atmospheres, and virtually no disappointment, go support scum. Instead, I'll stick with United.
By the way, if you suddenly appear back at Elland Road when we're back in the big time, you'll be like 15,000 other "diehards" - not welcome. It's now that we need support.
Why can't you people support an Irish club? I'm sick to death of hearing British wannabee gobsh**es banging on about 'loyalty' and such guff. What part of Leeds are you from Diarmuid?
Any chance you and your fellow-travellers might get out and support an Irish team at the weekends?
Well, Michael, I'm sick to death of hearing sanctimonious hezbollahs like you who get so wound up about who other people support. The reason why the League of Ireland is so poorly supported is the same as why there's no American Football League or Ice Hockey league in Canada, no basketball in Mexico and why so many small leagues around Europe are struggling. When there's something so all-consuming and of such a higher level nearby, people gravitate towards it.
#7 Mick, Are you saying that its better/ more entertaining to support a 3rd tier English club than a team from your own area?
The romanticism alluded to in the article in following a team from a different country is absurd, it is indeed one sided and a sham relationship.
I grew up a ManU fan in the 80's when they were still a sleeping giant and I used to get quite excited about Soccer, but I can now see that its like following a marketing myth.
If Diarmuid is masochistic enough to be a Leeds fan then he might just find himself right at home being a League of Ireland fan. Why travel to Leeds to be abused when you can be abused at home.
Mick, maybe just maybe if Diarmud and thousands others didn't cross the water week in week out to fund the English game and put a % of that into an Irish club the quality would be a bit better?Ever wonder why the FA will be represented in South Africa and we won't?People funding them week in week out from here.
Surely this just sums it all up
''Over the last 10 years I reckon I've spent more than €10,000 following them – between tickets, hotels, flights, match programmes, replica shirts, pyjamas, t-shirts, hoodies, caps, hats, fleeces, pens, cigarette lighters, slippers and wallets. That's just the stuff I still have. For a few years in the 1990s, I was listed in the phone book under the name Rodney Wallace, a tribute to one of the stars of the last Leeds team to win the English league.''
€10,000...That is in around 30 years worth of memberships to a LOI club which would give you on average 18 home games.
Instead for 5/6 matches a year fly to England??
Appalling and embarrassing article. Where to begin really? Shows the football culture in this country is going down to the pub to shout for one english club against another. They cant hear you through a tv screen. And who would these barstoolers support if Ireland were playing england?
Sanctimonious hezbollahs? No just real fans and also there is a league in the U.S. called the MLS but they would never know that because in their insular sad world there is no football outside england.
Support your own league like other countries worldwide do.
Last Friday night I was in a sold out Tallaght Stadium watching my local team Shamrock Rovers beat their fiercest rivals Bohs in the Dublin Derby. You can't get that feeling from being a barstool plastic fan but if it makes you happy to pretend to be a Yorkshireman instead of the self-loathing paddy you are then fire ahead.
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Like you I became a Leeds United fan 40 years ago. The 1970 FA Cup final replay to be exact - 29th April 1970. I remember it vividly as it was all my mum's fault! There was I, an innocent 8 year old boy in Belfast watching a rare televised football match for the first time with no real interest in the outcome when she came into the living room and asked me who I wanted to win. When I replied nonchanantly I didn't mind, she replied with the cursed words "I want the team in white to win because white is my favourite colour". Well, black and white telly or not, a boy loves his mother and from that moment on I was damned too! I have lived and breathed Leeds United through thick and thin ever since (mostly thin of course) and I will be staying faithfull whatever happens. I hate being let down by them continually as much as anyone else (nay, more so than anyone else!) and I have cursed that fateful day in 1970 many times over the intervening years. However, I have invested too much of my life in this relationship to give up on it now. This is a very special club with it's own unique anthem (how many other clubs can claim that as most merely appropriate other songs and change the words) and has had numerous paens written about it over the years (check out Amanda Palmer and Luke Haines to name but two recently) not to mention many books and now a movie. We undoubtedly will be back at some point. Don't ask me when or how, but I feel it in every fibre of my tortured blue white and yellow frame. Don't gve up on us baby, as a not so great American once said. Instead let us march on together to wherever it may take us and curse our damned bad luck on the way (interspersed hopefully with a few moments of real glory to cherish in between).