The Beautiful Game

Twas a chilly evening, Tuesday 21st. The wind swirled with vicious intent and the darkening skies threatened the chance of waterfall from the clouds. The police upon their mounted steeds keeping their watchful eye over the hooligans of the footballing world (if you would believe the constabularies from around this fine country of ours.)

Almost nineteen thousand men, women, children, and whatever goes in-between pushed their way through the turnstiles, purchased their snacks and bovrils and took up their seats in anticipation of the footballing spectacle that lay before them.

At 19:42 the players emerged from the tunnel, the Leeds players spurred on by all their fans, the O's given a slight boost by the twenty-or-so fans stuck in the corner top end. After the mascots received their customary photograph, to be cherished forever more on their bedroom walls, the play began. Leeds kicking from near to far as I stood.

I'd taken up position beside my fine woman for the match, a spare seat next to her became mine for the evening.

Changes to the side had been made. Youngter Parker in place of young White, Telfer took over from Marques and Howson and Hughes had a switcheroo due to the latter being injured.

The home team had the perfect opportunity to take it upon themselves to snatch a lead when Parker's effort upon goal struck the outstretched arm of one of the Leyton defensive line. The match was only ten minutes old when Beckford placed the ball on the penalty spot, stepped up, slipped up and wellied the ball over the top of the goal.

Thirty six minutes had elapsed when the deadlock broke in disappointing fashion. Dean Morgan curled a low strike around the outstretched arm of Lucas as the ball hit the back of the net.

United 0-1 The O's

Twas not too long though until the Whites and their fans could delight in a goal. A quick break, a ball spread out to the right, a Beckford cross, a Becchio pressure, a defender's touch that lifted the ball over his own keeper for the equaliser.

The Whites 1-1 Orient

With half time quickly upon us and everyone settling for a 1-1 halftime scoreline, many people made their way into either the bar for a pint, the stands for a pie or the toilets...for a cigarette! But any trigger-happy-leavers were made to rue their decision to give into their cravings when a solid header from the Argentinan-blonde Luciano Becchio landed in the onion-bag and Leeds were in the lead.

Leeds 2-1 Leyton

The half-time whistle was greeted with joy from 99.9% of the people inside the stadium. Some lad from the Revie stepped onto the pitch in the hope of bagging some special keepsakes but had to settle for the DAB radio. I hope that chap keeps tuned to Bates FM for the rest of his days...a prize well received.

With everyone fed, watered and nicotened, the second half began just fifteen minutes after the first concluded.

No goals were witnessed in the second forty-five but Becchio hit the bar, Beckford hit the bar, Beckford hit the post, Beckford had a great shot saved. You get the idea there.

As the full time whistle blew and the fans cheered in victory, and the O's supporters planned to return all the way down the M1, Leeds were confirmed as moving up to 4th in the league.

Bring on the Walsall the fans cry. Elland Road...Saturday...see you there!