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Living in Canada for over two years was amazing, but one thing I genuinely missed was the unrivalled culture and togetherness of being a Leeds United fan. The closest I got was post-match analysis video calls with my dad — enjoyable, but just not the same as watching together in person.
In 2024, I realised that Mateusz Klich would be playing at Toronto FC for DC United at some point in the season. I’d also become aware of a Leeds United fan group based downtown, called Toronto Maple Leeds, who I followed on Twitter. I’d told myself I’d go watch a game with them one day. Not that I was particularly close to Toronto, probably a three-hour drive, but close enough to scratch my increasingly irritable football itch.
I scanned the fixtures and saw that Toronto FC would be hosting DC United at BMO Field on Saturday 31st August. Leeds were playing Hull City at home the same day, at a relatively hangover friendly time of 10.00am, so the Toronto Maple Leeds gang would definitely be assembled at Toby’s Bar. As luck would have it, this was my birthday weekend. Meant to be? Who knows? But I knew me and my son, Leo, had to be in Toronto that day.
I panic-bought extortionately priced tickets to the MLS game, then meticulously planned my journey to Toronto. Setting off at 6am driving to the main city airport, catching the train downtown, then Ubering around the city (as I had neither the confidence, nor the geographical knowledge to brave the subway).
We got to Toby’s and watched Leeds defeat Hull City 2-0 over a fry up amid the incredible buzz of out-of-place northerners. Everyone was delighted to see Mateo Joseph score his first goal of the season, and I was delighted that it was socially acceptable to sink a couple of sherbets before noon.
We hit the major sightseeing spots in the afternoon then, before we knew it, it was time to head to the stadium. What I hadn’t realised is that Toronto’s main annual fair, the Canadian National Exhibition, which draws 1.5 million visitors every year, was running directly next to BMO Field. Unsurprisingly, the traffic was horrific. In fact, after not moving for over thirty minutes, we had to jump out of the Uber and jog a couple of miles to make it for kick-off.
Upon arriving at the stadium, I came to a few stark realisations. Firstly, obtaining a ticket to an MLS game is nothing like the Willy Wonka Golden Ticket scenario that us Leeds fans have to endure. In fact, there were so many empty seats I could have easily paid on the gate less than half what I did for my overly prepared purchase. I also learned that kick-off times in North America are more of a ballpark than a hard and fast rule. National anthems and firework displays are actually at the alleged kick-off time; similar to when you hurry to get to the cinema for the advertised time, only to sit through endless trailers and adverts about turning off your phone.
It’s widely understood that Canadians are the nicest people in the world, and aside from the passive aggressive twats at Border Control, I can confirm this to be true. So, imagine my shock when I encountered the die hard TFC supporters. There are various branches of fans, the most passionate of whom I found to be the ‘Tribal Rhythm Nation’ who were relentlessly playing drums, chanting and releasing flares (which are technically banned, but definitely still extremely prolific). Further Fun Fact: because Canadians are so charming, there’s no home/away ends so everyone is sat together.
We got to our seats right in front of a corner flag and heard the team lineups. Other than Klichy, the only other players familiar to me were Christian Benteke and Matty Longstaff, previously of Newcastle and of course younger brother of current Leeds midfielder Sean Longstaff.
The first half was pretty uneventful. Not saying I was only there for one man, but the only notable instances were initiated by Klich, wearing his familiar #43 shirt; a beautifully clean challenge winning the ball just outside the box leading to a glorious opportunity shot straight towards the keeper, and a teasing free-kick from inside the centre circle that almost resulted in the first goal within the opening twenty minutes.
The second half had much more action. Martin Rodriguez put DC United 0-1 up after 67 minutes with a stunning training ground set-piece. TFC equalised at 82 minutes thanks to a DCL-esque header from Deandré Kerr and the atmosphere began to turn. But once Dominique Badji put the visitors 1-2 up at 88 minutes, the ground quickly started to empty. By this point, we had more confidence to openly cheer for DC without fear of having our heads caved in, or whatever the polite Canadian equivalent is — perhaps being asked to keep it down a touch.
Then we witnessed the final nail in the coffin with a third goal for DC in stoppage time. They celebrated that final goal at the corner flag right in front of us. The emptying stadium, us in our Leeds shirts, and a celebration metres away from us felt like fate. Klich looked up, saw us, and immediately smiled and waved, then gave us the Leeds salute. I shed a tear and, in that moment, my day was made.
I knew that at full-time, Leo was hoping for Klich’s shirt, but sadly he’d gifted it quite quickly to some sticky-fingered little shit by the tunnel. I said we should make our way out, but he wanted to stay in case Klichy came to say hello. I thought he was being stupidly optimistic, but sure enough, once all his teammates had disappeared, Mateusz looked towards our seats and came straight over. As I saw him walking towards us, I genuinely wasn’t sure if I was going to faint, cry, vomit or wee myself.
Klich heroically hurdled the barrier in front of us topless — suddenly I was glad of the sticky-fingered little shit — and came for a chat. He asked if we’d watched the game that morning. I was so incredibly starstruck, I think I may have managed to simulate some kind of nodding motion. He politely filled the silence by saying he’d enjoyed it. Then he thanked us for coming and asked if we wanted a photo. I handed over my phone and was immediately gifted one of my most sentimentally valuable possessions.
Do I wish that photo hadn’t been taken when I’d been awake for twenty hours in 35-degree heat? Yes. Does it ultimately matter? Absolutely not.
Despite the fact that, to quote Leo, I was “weird and cringey” and basically lost the ability to breathe, speak or stop shaking in front of a Bielsa era hero, it was still one of the best days of my life and I’ll treasure that moment with my son forever.
Leeds really is more than just a club and some players just get it. Klich is one of those players. Thanks for all the memories, Mateusz. #FuckOffBob ⬢
This article is free to read from issue five of The Square Ball magazine. Get your copy here.
