Chelsea 2-2 Leeds United: Perfectly normal

I was feeling smug after Leeds beat Notts Forest last Friday. Calm. Serene. I ended that match report by promising United were in a strong enough position for us all to keep our composure until the end of the season:

The Peacocks have proven enough this season to know it’s time to keep in mind that wise old mantra of Howard Wilkinson: trust your swing. I have no doubt there is still some madness lurking somewhere around the corner before the end of the campaign — Sunderland at home, roughly a year on from last season’s madness, I’m looking at you — and I fully intend to enjoy it.

Well, the madness arrived much earlier than I expected. Did I enjoy it? Erm, yes. Certainly at the end anyway, because at that point there was nothing else to say apart from: pahahahaha!

Prior to that, there wasn’t much to like about the opening hour at Stamford Bridge, albeit having mentally checked out at 2-0 down I felt fine, ready to move on. Then Lukas Nmecha scored a penalty and my main emotion was frustration at Jaka Bijol for conceding such a brainless spot-kick that had earlier given Chelsea their second goal. We could have had a point! And then with a crash, bang, wallop of defenders, attackers and goalkeepers, Noah Okafor scored to make it 2-2. We did have a point! Serenity can get tae fuck. It was agonising and for those final twenty minutes I was losing my mind.

Seriously, Leeds. What the hell?! I have tried my best to sleep on it — an impossible task — and it still defies all logic.

I have no doubt that Leeds were rubbish for the first hour at Chelsea. With Dominic Calvert-Lewin ill and Pascal Struijk injured, Daniel Farke’s changes did not work. Rather than make like for like swaps, Jayden Bogle was pushed up the field into an inside forward role as Okafor also dropped out of the starting XI. Bogle loves to burst into attacks but collecting the ball in central areas and trying to pick a pass is not his game, so it was no surprise he looked like a player in a position he’d never played before.

The main problem, however, was at the back. With Bogle further forward, Farke added to the disruption by changing not one but two of his three centre-halves. Jaka Bijol returned to the middle and Sebastiaan Bornauw also came into the defence as James Justin shifted to wing-back. As much as they have shapeshifted in possession to something more resembling Farke’s preferred 4-2-3-1, Leeds’ strong form in recent months has been built upon the solidity and organisation of their defence, yet suddenly the centre-halves were being tasked with following Cole Palmer around the pitch, even if it meant Bijol ended up closing down Chelsea’s goalkeeper Robert Sanchez at one point in the first half.

Like the bad days at the end of Marcelo Bielsa’s reign, Palmer was all too happy to take a defender for a walk and drag them out of position, leaving gaps in Leeds’ backline for his teammates to exploit. It didn’t help that whenever Bornauw looked over his shoulder and saw Joao Pedro in space in front of United’s goal, he just carried on as if it was no concern, leaving Pedro to chip an opener over Karl Darlow as Bornauw was far too late to arrive on the scene, banging into his goalkeeper with an almighty thud that left them both sprawled on the floor before getting to their feet limping.

It was the second time Bornauw had left Pedro alone in the penalty area. In between the two chances, he got booked for two fouls in the space of a couple of minutes. Later in the half, he had his arse saved as Justin made an excellent last-ditch tackle to stop Palmer scoring in the space where Bornauw was meant to be defending. As a £5m signing as defensive cover, Bornauw has generally seemed competent in his rare Leeds outings so far, but he was having a stinker.

His performance helped me have sympathy for Farke. The set up didn’t work, but as Leeds’ manager likes to say, it’s a player’s game, and too many of Leeds’ players were well off the pace. With his very first touch of the game, Nmecha tried to cushion a ball to a teammate only to balloon it straight back to Chelsea. Ethan Ampadu leathered a pass back to Darlow that was so difficult to control under pressure the ‘keeper could only boot it sideways out of play. Justin and Ilia Gruev wasted rare chances to threaten from set-pieces with poor deliveries from corners and free-kicks. And when Farke finally rectified his mistake in selection by replacing Bornauw with Okafor to belatedly introduce a sense of familiarity to the team, Bijol responded by blatantly shoving Pedro over in the box as Palmer made it 2-0.

It’s a shit business. Sometimes the job’s fucked and it’s easier to call it a day and move on. That’s why at that point I checked out and was ready to get on with my life rather than fret over a defeat we all deep down expected.

Thankfully Leeds’ players are made of sterner stuff. Having reverted to wing-back, Bogle was reunited in his dovetailing with Justin and the duo started causing far more problems by marauding forward from deep. Ampadu’s long ball forward put Justin in behind Chelsea’s defence. He was halted by a tackle, but Bogle was first to the loose ball and as he burst into the penalty area was halted by a foul. Given the way the rest of the night had gone, I had no confidence in Nmecha converting the penalty. He sent Robert Sanchez diving in the wrong direction with an emphatic finish into the opposite corner.

I was still refusing to believe Leeds could turn it around when Bogle again surged forward five minutes later. He was surrounded by five Chelsea players but kept wriggling towards goal, the ball bouncing off shins and ankles and toes and, ultimately, Sanchez before it popped towards Okafor in front of an empty goal. Okafor put the ball in the net and left the Chelsea players to fume at the referee over their own inadequacy while the Leeds team sprinted to celebrate in front of the away end. For all the concerns about Leeds’ goalkeeping stocks at Elland Road, watching Sanchez twice this season has made me feel an awful lot better about Karl Darlow. Cheers, Robert.

For all the last twenty minutes were agonising to watch, it was in those moments that Leeds more than ever proved their resilience and won such a precious and valuable point. Chelsea brought a second striker off the bench and swung cross after cross into the penalty area, forgetting what had caused Leeds so many problems earlier on and allowing Rodon and Bijol to practise their favourite art — heading ball after ball away from danger.

There was one final fright as Palmer inexplicably missed an open goal from inside the six-yard box from Chelsea’s one piece of crafty play in the closing stages, leaving Justin with his head in his hands as if he too couldn’t believe the ball wasn’t in the net rather than in the stands. If you make your own luck, then lord knows Leeds have earned it. And after a night of bitching and moaning to the ref alongside the rest of Chelsea’s cry babies, the look of embarrassment on Palmer’s face meant the Londoners got exactly what they deserved.

Liam Rosenior only added to the fun, warbling on in his post-match interviews about not being able to remember Leeds having a shot and getting angry at reporters for explaining the handball rule to him after the ball had brushed Bogle’s elbow in the build up to the equaliser. Turns out a billion quid can’t buy you class, so perhaps Rosenior is the perfect Chelsea manager after all. At least for the next few months until he’s sacked by October.

Perhaps the greatest compliment you can pay this Leeds team under Farke is that however fraught they can make us feel, they have a handy knack of frying the brains of opposition players and managers much worse. Rosenior joins a healthy list of opponents left with bloody noses and quivering bottom lips after facing Leeds this season. I, on the other hand, simply have a slight headache and a desire for a nice long lie down. In that respect, it’s just another perfectly normal week that makes perfect sense in the world of Leeds United. ⬢