March 3rd, 2001. A regular catalogue of Premier League action awaits, the War of the Roses the opening act at Elland Road. Despite poor early season form and the almighty distraction of the Champions League, Leeds have fought their way from their Boxing Day mediocrity of 12th to 6th in the division, collecting just one league defeat along the way. Coming off the back of such tremendous form (along with an astounding 4-1 victory away at Anderlecht in Europe), hope is high in preparation for the tie against Manchester United. Manchester themselves are also on good form; The league leaders coming out of ties against Chelsea, Arsenal and Valencia (home and away) unbeaten. The lunchtime kick-off paired the two form teams of the division. A feisty affair awaits.
Fast forward eleven years to the present day. Leeds United, after seven years of tyranny under Ken Bates, have merged themselves into the furniture of second tier football. Meanwhile, Sir Alex Ferguson's side are no longer champions. They are no longer favourites for the title, and to everyone's enjoyment, they're not even kings of their own city. It is feasible for United to look back on this clash eleven years prior as the moment where they plunged into trouble. This isn't a tale for Manchester, though. There's only one United in these parts.
Amidst a flourish of bookings, dissent and controversy, both teams walked away from Elland Road that day with a mere point to their name; A result that did nothing but flatter Manchester. Having been on the back-foot for the entirety of the encounter, substitute Luke Chadwick embarked on a smash-and-grab mission as Alex Ferguson's men looked to pull off a remarkable result. Alas, Mark Viduka's header six minutes from time thwarted any daylight robbery.
Or so we thought...
This'd be the part of the film where the camera closes in on the lead, his expression flickering from bemusement to realisation. The smirk drops. This tale isn't over, the hero hasn't won. A flashback occurs and suddenly it's injury time at the end of the first-half. The scene emerges with a questioning cross aimed for Ian Harte, only to be collected in routine fashion by Manchester United goalkeeper Fabian Barthez.
An innocuous collision between the two. Nothing more than a coming together of players challenging for possession in the air. Barthez doesn't see it that way, though. He lashes out, violently stamping on Harte's standing leg. Graham Barber is aware of the melee and rightly awards the penalty United's way. The next step is obvious to all in the ground. Barber is to walk over to Barthez and brandish red from his pocket. On will step Paul Rachubka of all people and face Harte as he fires past the joke of a goalkeeper to lead United on to victory.
If only Barber had bothered to read the script. Or even the rulebook. Rather than red, the egg-like 'keeper sees yellow. Calamity Paul, already lacing his boots, looks forward in disbelief as Barthez prepares himself for what would turn out to be one of two match-defining moments. Not to worry, though; Paul is offered a leading role later on in the series as he goes undercover, with aims of ruining United's season.
Harte sees his kick saved by the lucky Frenchman, as both teams close in on the dressing rooms at the interval all square. Manchester's Steve McClaren takes it upon himself to confront Barber on the decision to award Leeds the penalty, despite the blatant attack on Harte's calf. Considering the unwritten pull a member of Scum's dugout can have upon a referee, you have to wonder if later leniency or bias was somewhat offered following McClaren's rant.
It's quite easy, in hindsight, to suggest that with half a game remaining, anything could've happened. That there was no guarantee that Leeds would have emerged victorious had the correct decision been made. Nonetheless, Barthez had been in superb form throughout the game; something which you would not have expected from Paul Rachubka. All of this becomes a redundant discussion in the greater scheme of things, though. A second heist taking victory from United's grasp would ensue in the second half.
Back to our cinematic cast-back, and we find ourselves in injury time at the end of the second half. Leeds are piling on the pressure having thoroughly deserved Mark Viduka's equaliser six minutes previous (and what a beautiful goal it was, too; Danny Mills breaking down the right wing leaving Dennis Irwin chasing shadows. His cross flicked on by Lee Bowyer, only for Viduka to show instinctive movement quicker than thought, arching his neck to power the ball past Barthez's right).
Leeds break from a throw-in as Mills sends a cutting through ball towards the path of Bowyer. Manchester's defence appeals for offisde, but the flag remains down. As Jaap Stam closes in, Bowyer unleashes a dangerous cross across goal. The out-stretching leg of Stam plays Viduka onside as he awaits the delivery. He remains surplus to requirements; Wes Brown's desperate attempts to clear possession fails miserably. The ball falls past Barthez's left. United have snatched it at the death. 2-1.
Or so we thought...
Up goes the flag. Brown's blushes are saved. Leeds are robbed, and Manchester United walk out of Yorkshire with an ill-deserved point. The disappointment on the day failed to affect Leeds' march up the table. Eight wins out of the remaining nine fixtures saw United finish in fourth position, a mere point behind third placed Liverpool, who in turn claimed the third and final Champions League spot.
Leeds followed the draw by travelling to Madrid to face Spanish giant Real in the Champions League, only to be robbed again by a goal from Raul that should've been ruled out for a blatant handball. Looking back, though, only one day proved too costly. The coveted position which later emerged as so important for debt-stricken United had been missed by a solitary point; Two of which had been lost at the hands of Graham Barber and Manchester United.
We all know the crisis that followed. Debts spiralled out of control, assets had to be sold and the club faced relegation in 2004. Debts still loomed over the club and there was seemingly no way out. Then, out of nowhere, Ken Bates came riding in on his white horse promising to take the club back to the top. I personally wasn't aware that the plan involved League One football, 25 points being deducted and the threat of liquidation hanging over us. Nor was I aware that we'd still be waiting for this promise to be fulfilled. I'm starting to wonder if old Ken lied to us. And to think, just one decision could've made things oh-so different.
Either way, a lot of finger-pointing and blame can fall at several people's feet. Be it Bates, Ridsdale or even previous administrators, it's fair to say that a collective group of idiocy has placed us firmly where we are today. Just today, though, I choose to blame Scum.
Fast forward eleven years to the present day. Leeds United, after seven years of tyranny under Ken Bates, have merged themselves into the furniture of second tier football. Meanwhile, Sir Alex Ferguson's side are no longer champions. They are no longer favourites for the title, and to everyone's enjoyment, they're not even kings of their own city. It is feasible for United to look back on this clash eleven years prior as the moment where they plunged into trouble. This isn't a tale for Manchester, though. There's only one United in these parts.
Amidst a flourish of bookings, dissent and controversy, both teams walked away from Elland Road that day with a mere point to their name; A result that did nothing but flatter Manchester. Having been on the back-foot for the entirety of the encounter, substitute Luke Chadwick embarked on a smash-and-grab mission as Alex Ferguson's men looked to pull off a remarkable result. Alas, Mark Viduka's header six minutes from time thwarted any daylight robbery.
Or so we thought...
This'd be the part of the film where the camera closes in on the lead, his expression flickering from bemusement to realisation. The smirk drops. This tale isn't over, the hero hasn't won. A flashback occurs and suddenly it's injury time at the end of the first-half. The scene emerges with a questioning cross aimed for Ian Harte, only to be collected in routine fashion by Manchester United goalkeeper Fabian Barthez.
An innocuous collision between the two. Nothing more than a coming together of players challenging for possession in the air. Barthez doesn't see it that way, though. He lashes out, violently stamping on Harte's standing leg. Graham Barber is aware of the melee and rightly awards the penalty United's way. The next step is obvious to all in the ground. Barber is to walk over to Barthez and brandish red from his pocket. On will step Paul Rachubka of all people and face Harte as he fires past the joke of a goalkeeper to lead United on to victory.
If only Barber had bothered to read the script. Or even the rulebook. Rather than red, the egg-like 'keeper sees yellow. Calamity Paul, already lacing his boots, looks forward in disbelief as Barthez prepares himself for what would turn out to be one of two match-defining moments. Not to worry, though; Paul is offered a leading role later on in the series as he goes undercover, with aims of ruining United's season.
Harte sees his kick saved by the lucky Frenchman, as both teams close in on the dressing rooms at the interval all square. Manchester's Steve McClaren takes it upon himself to confront Barber on the decision to award Leeds the penalty, despite the blatant attack on Harte's calf. Considering the unwritten pull a member of Scum's dugout can have upon a referee, you have to wonder if later leniency or bias was somewhat offered following McClaren's rant.
It's quite easy, in hindsight, to suggest that with half a game remaining, anything could've happened. That there was no guarantee that Leeds would have emerged victorious had the correct decision been made. Nonetheless, Barthez had been in superb form throughout the game; something which you would not have expected from Paul Rachubka. All of this becomes a redundant discussion in the greater scheme of things, though. A second heist taking victory from United's grasp would ensue in the second half.
Back to our cinematic cast-back, and we find ourselves in injury time at the end of the second half. Leeds are piling on the pressure having thoroughly deserved Mark Viduka's equaliser six minutes previous (and what a beautiful goal it was, too; Danny Mills breaking down the right wing leaving Dennis Irwin chasing shadows. His cross flicked on by Lee Bowyer, only for Viduka to show instinctive movement quicker than thought, arching his neck to power the ball past Barthez's right).
Leeds break from a throw-in as Mills sends a cutting through ball towards the path of Bowyer. Manchester's defence appeals for offisde, but the flag remains down. As Jaap Stam closes in, Bowyer unleashes a dangerous cross across goal. The out-stretching leg of Stam plays Viduka onside as he awaits the delivery. He remains surplus to requirements; Wes Brown's desperate attempts to clear possession fails miserably. The ball falls past Barthez's left. United have snatched it at the death. 2-1.
Or so we thought...
Up goes the flag. Brown's blushes are saved. Leeds are robbed, and Manchester United walk out of Yorkshire with an ill-deserved point. The disappointment on the day failed to affect Leeds' march up the table. Eight wins out of the remaining nine fixtures saw United finish in fourth position, a mere point behind third placed Liverpool, who in turn claimed the third and final Champions League spot.
Leeds followed the draw by travelling to Madrid to face Spanish giant Real in the Champions League, only to be robbed again by a goal from Raul that should've been ruled out for a blatant handball. Looking back, though, only one day proved too costly. The coveted position which later emerged as so important for debt-stricken United had been missed by a solitary point; Two of which had been lost at the hands of Graham Barber and Manchester United.
We all know the crisis that followed. Debts spiralled out of control, assets had to be sold and the club faced relegation in 2004. Debts still loomed over the club and there was seemingly no way out. Then, out of nowhere, Ken Bates came riding in on his white horse promising to take the club back to the top. I personally wasn't aware that the plan involved League One football, 25 points being deducted and the threat of liquidation hanging over us. Nor was I aware that we'd still be waiting for this promise to be fulfilled. I'm starting to wonder if old Ken lied to us. And to think, just one decision could've made things oh-so different.
Either way, a lot of finger-pointing and blame can fall at several people's feet. Be it Bates, Ridsdale or even previous administrators, it's fair to say that a collective group of idiocy has placed us firmly where we are today. Just today, though, I choose to blame Scum.
