So, here we are for the last rites. I’m not expecting anything from today’s game except confirmation of our relegation. And whilst it’s possible that we could survive, not only is it vanishingly unlikely, but more to the point it would be undeserved. It pains me to say it, but even allowing for injuries and bad luck over the last two seasons, we simply have not been good enough to warrant our Premier League status. So this is where the great 5-year journey ends and the wheel turns full circle: from the genius of Bielsa’s breathtaking football to the embarrassment of Big Sam desperately tinkering with a team that seems devoid of heart or skill or desire.
I’ll still support Leeds, like I have done for more than half a century. You can change your job, house, car, politics, nationality, friends, gender, even your woman, but you can’t change your club. But right now, football just makes me miserable and I want the season to be over so that the rebuilding project, however brutal, can begin.
Fortunately I shall be spared this final match as today is my daughter’s birthday and I’m going to focus on her. I’ll still keep tabs on the score, of course, and in some recess of my brain will keep alive the hope that we can survive. We might even win but then get relegated anyway. That would be a very "Leedsy" way of ending our time in the top flight by emphasizing the lost opportunity of all that might have been.
Thanks to you all for the comradeship of the season – suffering shared is suffering diluted, at least in some small measure! MOT
