The last time I went to Elland Road for a fixture against Sunderland, Leeds were in the final few weeks of Paul Heckingbottom’s mercifully short tenure as manager that still felt far too painfully long. Sunderland were bound for League One, destined for a second consecutive relegation, yet as I looked at their away end that day I felt a sense of envy. While Leeds were stuck in Championship purgatory, Sunderland were at least about to get the chance to clear the decks and start afresh, which seemed like the only way Leeds would ever be able to end a season with something to play for again.

On an afternoon of gallows humour, the South Stand joined a chorus of call and response with the away fans. Sunderland chanted, ‘We’re fucking shit!’ Leeds replied, ‘And so are we!’ Once everyone stopped laughing at themselves, the realisation that this is what supporting Leeds United had been reduced to just felt incredibly bleak.

Since then, the two clubs have gone on wildly different journeys. Sunderland’s three years in League One served as a reminder that, however pervasive the appeal, getting relegated into the third tier is never a good idea. Leeds, meanwhile, hired a new manager called Marcelo Bielsa a few weeks later and changed all our lives, at least for a few years. And after all that turmoil, I was back at Elland Road for a match against the same opponents, with both teams in the same division seven years later.

Except this time the circumstances were crucially different. Both teams are looking up, with something to fight for other than an escape from apathy. And with twenty minutes remaining, I tried to convince myself that was worth valuing even as Leeds were sliding towards a 0-1 defeat. After all, it was a competitive, engrossing game between two good sides, and a noisy away end was aiding the atmosphere — even if it did mean being subjected to ‘Leeds are falling apart again’ after Wilson Isidor rolled Ethan Ampadu and slid the ball into the bottom corner to score the opening goal half an hour into the game.

Chances were few and far between because, to their credit, Sunderland were organised and defended the width of their penalty area resolutely, while also showing enough threat on the break to worry Leeds. But as the second half wore on, that long-awaited sense of jeopardy brought the best out of Leeds’ players and fans. Sunderland’s stubbornness meant everyone in Elland Road was going to have to keep fighting.

Pascal Struijk and Joe Rothwell are hardly the rugged warriors that spring to mind for a scrap. In fact, they’re both goddamn beautiful. But after spending seventy minutes watching their teammates bang their heads against the wall of Sunderland’s defence, they were summoned from the bench and solved all our problems. While Struijk stole the headlines with his two headers to snatch the win, Rothwell’s class in possession and deliveries for both goals cemented his status as the most underrated player of the season. “A pure baller,” as Daniel Farke said afterwards. “If you enjoy football, you enjoy watching Joe.” I fucking love watching Joe. Turns out football ain’t bad either.

Anyway, that’s enough of the game, and about as much as I remember, because from the moment Struijk’s winner hit the back of the net Elland Road was a furnace of delirium. My brain didn’t even get the chance to compute the goal. Grabbing hold of my dad’s shoulder both to hug and hold onto so I didn’t fall down a dozen rows of the East Stand, I was suddenly surrounded by screaming faces I was aware didn’t belong to any of the people who’d spent the previous hour and a half sitting around me. Was I going to pass out? Throw up? Burst into tears? It would have been the happiest anyone has ever done any of those things. These moments don’t come around often, and that’s why we keep coming back time and time again, dreaming it might be one of those special nights when a Leeds fan ends up hanging upside down from the rafters in pure ecstasy.

There’s your Leeds United 😎 #LUFC pic.twitter.com/6we35U1Wqc

— Sam Bolter (@samb2509) February 17, 2025

As Illan Meslier cupped his ears to the away fans, Joel Piroe wagged his tongue, and Daniel Farke joined Jayden Bogle and Joe Rodon falling to the floor of separate parts of the ground, all four sides of Elland Road began belting out the punchline we all hoped the set-up of the previous 95 minutes was leading to: ‘LEEDS ARE FALLING APART AGAIN!’ It was an orgasm of a fuck you to Sunderland, their players, their fans, the dickhead referee, and the rest of the division. Walking out of the ground fifteen minutes later as the party continued, my knees were still trembling.

Seven years is an awful long time in football. Since that dismal day the last time I saw Sunderland visit Elland Road and yearned for seasons in which we had something to compete for, Leeds have lost a play-off semi-final, won the Championship, finished 9th in the Premier League, avoided relegation on the last day of the season, been relegated on the last day of the season, and lost a play-off final. And as a campaign that we hoped would be calm and at points has threatened to be boring reached its latest manic peak, I couldn’t imagine supporting any other football club. ⬢