Leeds United (0) 0
Newcastle United(0) 1 Shearer (59)
Att: 36,070
Leeds: Martyn, Kelly, Palmer, Wetherall, Sharpe, Wallace,
Rush (Boyle 84), Jobson, Harte, Ford, Couzens (Jackson 67)
Subs not used: Radebe, Blunt, Beeney
Toon: Srnicek, Watson, Beresford, Howey, Peacock, Batty, Lee
Beardsley (Clark 33), Ginola (Gillespie 33, Shearer, Asprilla
Subs not used: Hislop, Elliott, Albert
As someone who grew up in the seventies, Leeds away has a bit of an awesome feel about it. Revie, Bremner, Giles, Lorimer, Clarke, flares, ludicrous collars, scarves tied round wrists, Gordon Lee, Newcastle relegated..... It's enough to make you wince. Even the McAllister / Strachan / Speed / Batty side of the early 90's could induce something of a cold sweat, but somehow Couzens, Tinkler, Harte and Ford doesn't carry the same latent threat. Having said that, the last couple of clashes at Elland Road have been hard-fought affairs, so best not count those chickens too early.
As you go into the away fans' enclosure at Elland Road, the most obvious feature is the enormous structure to your right. The Lowfield Road stand is MASSIVE. That aside, it isn't nearly as impressive a ground as it looks on the telly. The remaining three stands are smallish, and the whole thing just looks lop-sided. Picture Filbert Street on steroids, and you begin to get the picture. Have I just been brainwashed by St. James', or do grounds with big stands behind the goals look much better than this arrangement?
Looking round, it's difficult to see how they can fit 40,000 people into the place - and then you try to sit down. When Leeds first put seats behind the goals in the 80's, you may recall televised matches in which Leeds fans watched the entire game standing in the seated enclosures. I now know why: anyone taller than 5ft 7ins finds himself securely wedged into his seat by his knees. Most stadiums have an element of this, but Elland Road takes the piss. Find yourself between two fat bastards (inevitable), and you might as well be wearing a full six-point racing harness seat-belt thing. If Sir John was to adopt the Leeds leg-room policy, he'd soon find he didn't need to build a new stadium. St. James' could amply accommodate 70,000.
Next thing you notice is the dreadful sight of some poor unemployed actor having to struggle round the pitch wearing size 80 Predators and a latex suit from the It's a Knockout Used Props Department. The Leeds version of this worryingly common feature? - An elephant. Is there an elephant on the Leeds badge? Was Hannibal a Yorkshireman? Does Leeds even have a zoo? No. It's a complete mystery. The only reason I can see for it is to give Ian Rush someone he can call "Big Nose". My advice: shoot it. Get a bit of cash for it's tusks. Forget it ever happened.
To the point. The match. The announcement of the team line-ups confirms the news that Les is injured / ill. Ironically, this is almost a relief - Keegan has been spared the apparently compulsory top-heavy two centre forward formation of recent weeks, and it's one less International to be sat grinding his teeth on the bench. Shearer, Asprilla, Beardsley, Ginola and Lee are all starting, and if that isn't a decent attacking side, then I don't know what is.
There's just time for a quick scan of the programme before kick-off, only to be confronted by a centre spread of Mark Hateley with what appears to be a sizeable dollop of sperm on his forehead. The things you had to do to get into Howard Wilkinson's side.... Is it any wonder he was sacked?
The tone of the first half is set in the first minute when Beardsley comes off second best when he and David Wetherall lunge at a loose ball. Clumsy rather than malicious, but the yellow card is flashed at the Leeds player with Beardsley felled. The referee stamping his authority? Not really - he is just letting us know that erratic decisions and a hair trigger reflex to reach for his breast pocket are to be the order of the day. As the first half progresses, it gets more and more physical, and Mr. Alcock lets it get further and further away from him. Nevertheless, the first minute incident does give us the opportunity of a tantalising, if distant, glimpse of a Beardsley buttock as the magic sponge is applied.
The game settles into a battle. Tackles are flying in from all sorts of unlikely people - notably Tino and Ginola, with a couple of well-timed sliding interceptions in which the ball is cleanly taken. Improbable, but nonetheless impressive stuff. Ten minutes into the game and Leeds chants of, "You couldn't sell all your tickets," have stopped. A sure sign that the pubs are now empty, and the away enclosure is packed. A half-hearted burst of, "Where were you when you were shit?" is ample confirmation that there is not a single empty Newcastle seat. A glance in the programme confirms Wednesday's Fizzy Cup Leeds home attendance - a magnificent 17,000. Who's got shit support?
Thick bastards.
Batty has a decent shot on goal, Shearer hits a couple of venomous drives from difficult angles straight into Martyn's gut. You can't fail to notice the high percentage of his efforts which are on target. Meanwhile for Leeds, Sharpe and Rush occasionally threaten on the break. Remarkably, in the opening exchanges, David Ginola's every touch has NOT been greeted by a torrent of booing. Clearly, this is unsettling him, and he soon rectifies the situation by making the most of a couple of debatable challenges. With the normal abusive oral backdrop restored, David soon gets into his game and the mazy runs and crosses start to flow.
However, things start to go awry when Batty Exocets some poor unfortunate in a white shirt on a run in midfield. Fantastic. You could feel, never mind hear the impact. Mr. Alcock immediately takes the appropriate action, and books the nearby Ginola - presumably for watching it happen without trying to intervene. As happened at Arsenal last year, the effect on Ginola is not good. In an apparent, "Right, I'll give him something to book me for" attempt to even the score, he immediately performs an outrageous (and yet, strangely attractive) pirouetting somersault after minimal contact from a Leeds defender. Mr. Alcock gives the free kick. If it was Treasure Island, Ginola would by now have been given the Black Spot. His life is truly in peril. The Leeds defence start to get serious, and thankfully Keegan does the sensible thing and pre-empts the stretcher or red card by subbing him for Gillespie. The game is only half an hour old.
As the home support have now been robbed of a focus for their baying, Alan Shearer picks up the mantle, and confidently steps into the spotlight. Another clumsy challenge from behind by Carlton Palmer (already booked for a similar misdemeanour earlier) is rewarded by a free kick 25 yards out. That appears to be the end of it, until Al has a word with Mr. Alcock. While it is always difficult to lip read from 80 yards, the conversation appears to go something like:
Shearer: "D'you not think that was bookable?"
Alcock: "Oh. Yes. Sorry, Alan. Oi! Palmer! Off!"
Palmer: "Bollocks."
It's good to see that being the England captain still carries a bit of clout. As it's Carlton Palmer that's been sent off, the overall standard of the Leeds team actually improves as a result. But the day's fiercest debate (Is it Carlton Palmer's or Tino Asprilla's legs which most blatantly disregard all known laws of Physics), is adjourned until the return fixture on New Year's Day.
The first half ends in the same fashion in which it was played for its majority: fast, hard, not very pretty, but in a decent atmosphere. At the whistle, a posse of stewards surround the referee and Shearer, in escort. In spite of their efforts, David O'Leary battles his way through to the referee and has "a few words".
In accordance with all known footballing clichés, the ten men pull that little bit extra out of the bag. The second half begins with a brief period of Leeds pressure. After a couple of penalty-area skirmishes and a nasty moment when Steve Watson heads the ball back into the centre to a Leeds player, the tide gradually turns. Gillespie starts to get a bit more involved on the right, but occasionally fails to challenge for reachable balls. Beresford plays more as a left winger than a left back, and for a change never looks like he's going to struggle to cover when needed. Batty is well in control in midfield, even the referee seems to settle down. The passing game starts, and as a spectacle the game is much more watchable. Just on the hour, Beardsley and Lee wrong foot the centre of the Leeds defence, Shearer darts into the gap and makes no mistake from the edge of the box. Get in.
With about 20 minutes left, Clarky (who still looks odd with hair), comes on for Beardsley. A bit more bite in midfield, just to stave off the traditional end of match jitters and make sure of the points - to no avail. The jitters arrive with a bang, and a dodgy 5 minute spell sees three free Leeds headers on goal, the last of which was sneaking in before Pav's amazing extendible arm pawed it away at ground level. Suitably shaken, the lads pulled themselves together for a final flourish. Tino could have had two in the last 5 minutes - one delicious curling effort which missed the angle of crossbar and post by inches, and the other when none other than Daz Peacock battled to the goal line like some sort of manic Viking, and put in a ball across the face of the goal, which even Tino's rubber limbs just failed to connect with.
So, in summary: an odd stadium, no legroom, crap mascot, quite a crap first half, a better second half, a dodgy ref, a good atmosphere and a good result. Man of the Match? - David Batty.