Leeds’ ‘scary energy’ is their greatest strength – and weakness — The Athletic 17/4/24

By Phil Hay

“I love to work for such an emotional club, but the shirt can be pretty heavy — because of the expectation. You have to make sure you lead by example. It’s challenging, but it was my choice to take this challenging role.”

In July 2013, Leeds United played a pre-season friendly in Slovenia, 10 miles outside its capital, Ljubljana.

That summer tour was like several others Leeds went on around that time: away in continental Europe and very well attended, even though Slovenia was slightly off the beaten track.

We were inside the stadium in Domzale, setting up in the press box, when Leeds’ then manager Brian McDermott appeared and sat down beside us. He looked slightly shell-shocked and a bit short of breath. Outside, when the team bus drove in, a mass of Leeds supporters had been waiting to mob the players and staff in the car park. For reasons that were never made clear, one of the fans trying to hug McDermott was stark b*****k naked.

By then, McDermott — an Englishman whose parents came from Ireland — was a few months into the job of managing Leeds. “Their energy’s scary,” he said, almost to himself. “It reminds me of the Irish.” It was a compliment and an admission; an admission of how much weight his shoulders would carry once the matches actually mattered.

Leeds are not unique in oozing expectancy but they are high on the list of fanbases whose presence is literally everywhere you go. The last thing I remember before I went under for brain surgery in 2021 was a Leeds fan/nurse in the operating theatre telling me they listened to my podcast.

For a player or a manager, it’s an unwritten agreement when you sign the contract: you’re in the hands of a crowd who are always awake and always alert; ferociously loyal, but ruthless about standards. There’s no point complaining about expectancy after you step over the threshold. It’s only a surprise if you’ve naively failed to do your homework.

The quote at the top of this article is Daniel Farke’s, taken from the current Leeds manager’s press conference after the Saturday defeat against Blackburn Rovers. The match was an example of Elland Road’s sharp surges of emotion: the life sucked out of the entire stadium after Blackburn scored the only goal with eight minutes of the 90 to go, the images of anxiety in the stands making it feel like the season’s last day despite there still being three games to go.

Farke has seen the opposite extreme too during his first season in charge, in the form of that crowd chasing opposition teams over a cliff, and it is good that he professes to like Leeds’ emotional edge because these last three games of the 2023-24 Championship’s regular season aren’t going to lessen it. They value winners in these parts. They’ve had more than their share of men who weren’t. It’s a stark perspective, but it’s also football, where results dictate reputations.

History hangs heavily around Leeds United, the good and the bad. The good was so good that it set a benchmark too high to easily emulate. The bad was so bad that it caused grievance, and the club’s support got into a rhythm of dealing with those who seemed to be taking the p**s. Massimo Cellino thought he could walk into Elland Road and do what he liked after buying the club in 2014. He had irate supporters outside the front door within hours.

More recently, Andrea Radrizzani was a better example of how briefly credit stays in the bank. Marcelo Bielsa might have conjured promotion to the Premier League for him, but he could only rest on that achievement for so long. Likewise, Leeds have had an excellent season to this point, but the public want the right ending: promotion, and nothing less.

Not every player who signs for Leeds appreciates their history or the pressure it places on them.

There is a well-told story about the closing weeks of the 2016-17 Championship season, when certain members of then manager Garry Monk’s squad complained about having to attend the cinema screening of a documentary tracing the story of 1991-92, the season Leeds won the most recent of their top-flight titles.

The documentary was excellent. It captured not only the performance of manager Howard Wilkinson and his players but their attitudes and their willingness to embrace the reality of what the team being crowned champions of England for the first time since 1974 would mean to the city – and what failure would mean, too.

Some in Monk’s camp weren’t having it, though they all turned up as planned. History is spoken about too much around here, they reckoned. It doesn’t help when the chips are down. And they were down in that moment because having all but claimed a play-off place — a top-six finish “nailed on”, as this writer infamously tweeted — they lost their nerve and form after Easter.

The documentary happened to drop just as doubt and criticism were rising. So sitting through the story of a Leeds side who didn’t bottle it did not appeal.

At Leeds, you are destined to be compared to those who went before you. Pay attention and that should go without saying.

Farke, as it happens, has not had to contend with endless comparisons to Bielsa, and the crowd have appreciated that these are different coaches, different teams and different projects. In the end, they crave the same thing either way.

But Farke is right: the club does run on emotion, and they will from here to the end of the season.

I’ve seen Elland Road force miracles many times. I’ve seen it paralyse Leeds too. Other clubs can say the same, but it absolutely happens here. All Farke’s squad need to know is that every member of Leeds’ 2019-20 Premier League promotion-winning side would tell them the stress of having the cross to bear is worth it 10 times over if you keep it together and deliver.

That’s the bargain for anyone who chooses to get involved. Sometimes you’ll run into a patch where the tension is crippling. Buckle under it and you can hardly say you were not forewarned. But cope with it and you’ll go out like Stuart Dallas did on Saturday, with life-long membership to Elland Road’s cool book.

It’s a guaranteed exchange: your hold of nerve in exchange for their love, forever and a day.