Next stop Manchester City, which is a bit like saying next stop the abattoir. It is true that Leeds United once did Pep Guardiola with 10 men at the Etihad but that was another level, another lifetime, another stratosphere. Now Leeds go there to die, a shell of all that made them easy to love.
The reality is as bad as that and even owner Andrea Radrizzani was calling out “this shit” as the embarrassment of a 4-1 rout at Bournemouth shuffled into the book of notoriety, the penny dropping with him last. The team are shot, the club are sinking and a private message sent by Leeds’ chairman to a fan on Twitter mid-game was that of a man who had tried to smile away the fire in his house, only for it to ignite his hair. Impossible was how Radrizzani described relegation as the season loomed. Inevitable sounds more accurate, the entire facade cracking angrily.
Bournemouth was so terrible, so terminally weak that, as the away end battered Leeds’ players at full-time, the players stood there, stared and took it; next to nothing in the way of applause, next to nothing in the way of apologetic gestures, just shell-shocked faces unsure of what to do but suck it up. And where to look for reassurance? In the boardroom, hope has drained out of the majority shareholder.
In the dugout, control has deserted Javi Gracia. On the pitch, the squad have softened to the stage where turning up and gently leaning on them, as Bournemouth did, is enough to knock them sideways. If Leeds feel doomed, then nothing inside the building is contradicting the pessimism. And nor is the last hurrah of games in the month ahead.
Rodrigo, Wilfried Gnonto and Adam Forshaw reflect on the club’s predicament (Photo: Michael Steele/Getty Images)
The colour Gracia had in his cheeks when the club appointed him has gone, the latest coach to discover that however seductive the doors of Elland Road are when they tempt you to walk through them, very few jobs in the game are more likely to bleed you dry before you have properly arranged your desk. Three weeks ago, he had the leash in his hand and the animal under his spell.
Then, at a speed that he plainly cannot fathom, the animal burst away from him, only for it to turn out that it had no teeth anyway. There was no fight in his words after Bournemouth, no convincing responses, no credible roadmap out of the desert. “I have to help my players play better,” he said, which prompted the obvious question of how. “It’s my job,” Gracia replied. Although you wonder for how much longer.
There is nothing that sums up a car crash of a year better than the realisation that if Leeds chose to roll the dugout dice once more for the four fixtures that are left, they might as well. Gracia looks frazzled, Leeds look cooked and it is only Erling Haaland next.
It is no strategy either way, nothing but an indictment of the board’s strategic failure, and god knows what the alternatives would be — but it is not as if answers look like coming and 22 goals conceded in a calendar month is the definition of a team in free fall, with little coming at the other end. The mystery in all of it is that the club are still 16th. With relegation rivals Leicester City and Everton facing each other on Monday, that number could increase by one soon.
Georginio Rutter is as anonymous as ever, lucky to kick a ball in anger and reduced to the point where his first goal — if it ever materialises — might be worth more financially than his transfer fee, so tight is the table and so extreme are the stakes.
Luis Sinisterra will not play again this season. Patrick Bamford was missing from a few yards out in midweek, albeit atoning slightly by scoring in the first half at Bournemouth. Brenden Aaronson needs a summer of powerlifting, Rodrigo has one league goal since the first week of January and all of Crysencio Summerville’s came before the World Cup.
Gracia let Willy Gnonto loose at Dean Court, giving people what they wanted, but body language saying Gnonto would happily do it all himself was not the same as saying that he actually could. Supremely talented or not, the season should never have been so dependent on a teenager in the first place.
It made the point that if Leeds intend to fight their way out of the corner they found themselves in, then they have snuck through security, seemingly without being a threat to anyone.
Bournemouth attacked sporadically and bagged four goals, a masterclass of football in third gear, of getting there without being forced to sweat buckets. Nobody is interested in the nuance beyond those points because scores on the board are all that carry any currency in these circumstances, and maybe that is the biggest lesson the past two Premier League campaigns have taught Leeds: the long game is no game at all unless results stay at a level that keeps the peace. Anything less and the long-term plans — Gnonto, Rutter, aims beyond the immediate horizon — are more likely to benefit someone else.
Gracia, for his part, sounded broken and bereft, almost apologetic in having to follow the script by insisting the worst can yet be averted. Perhaps Leeds will still find three teams who are worse than them. Perhaps they will dig out results where results are least expected.
Perhaps, if we stray far into fantasy, they will storm the Etihad but it hardly matters when it comes to analysing the way this season has been handled. One horrible scrape with relegation is almost understandable, given how easily the Premier League can expose a club. A second is so much harder to forgive. And in the depths of one beaten corner of Dean Court, there was no forgiveness to be found.
(Top photo: Steven Paston/PA Images via Getty Images)