Optimum Football

There’s been a lot of online doting over recent weeks after Pep Guardiola announced that he’s leaving Manchester City. Guardiola finished the season with a loss to a pissed up Aston Villa and the feeling Lancashire-wide is that he leaves the club, who are still on trial for 115 charges of financial misconduct, as the best manager ever to grace the Premier League. After a couple of years back up there, I’d be lying if I said I couldn’t see their point. The greatest football managers create memories, and moments, and flashes of brilliance far beyond our mortal comprehension. And Pep brought us all of that when Stuart Dallas wheeled past him to celebrate at the Etihad.

Leeds kick off in a Covid-closed match following six points against Fulham and Sheffield United, sitting somewhere around the middle of the Premier League. The game starts with Pep showing just why he might be considered alright, Man City’s bathroom-tile home shirt floating smoothly around the pitch, pulling Leeds’ man to man system wherever it wants and crafting a neat chance for Benjamin Mendy.

United work the channels well, forcing the league leaders into a few early hiccups, but weak crosses blunt any chance of danger. Man City’s dominance continues, the game packed into half the field, cramming bodies around the edge of Leeds’ box. And look: maybe Pep is pretty good at managing his football team. But I reckon George Foreman probably makes the best toasties, you know? So, when the cheese gets a-grating, it’s the inventor himself that knows best. Bielsa yelps, Gjanni Alisoki folds away from Ferran Torres and recycles the ball back to his captain, where a belter of a Liam Cooper long ball lands at Helder Costa’s feet. The winger bundles it through Joao Cancelo’s legs and into Pat Bamford, who slows the play to set it to the edge of the box for Stuart Dallas. The ‘keeper moves right and Dallas prods it left, clipping the ball into the post behind Ederson. Leeds survive the heat, and Pep’s plan is all but wasted.

For two minutes, anyway. A Mendy throw-in misses Luke Ayling and Gabriel Jesus spins away from him to collect the loose ball. Cooper’s there to sweep up, collecting a slither of ball and a studfull of Brazilian. Coops disputes, but the ref’s red is already in the air and Leeds now face a second half with their backs against an even wobblier wall.

The second 45 is kicked off by Tyler Roberts, who still feels like an FBI experiment on confronting social acceptance, and Leeds’ ten-man meat shield pack into place. The chances begin again, with John Stones charging through the middle of the pitch and laying Zinchenko off for a shot that’s blocked by Illan Meslier. A quick free-kick catches United off guard, and it’s Stones again who drags the ball forwards, passing the burden to Fernandinho, who lines himself up against the low block. The ball’s fizzed in vertically, Bernardo Silva trapping it and pulling Pascal Struijk towards him before some quick feet open the space for Ferran Torres. The striker catches it well and Meslier’s helpless. A nice goal, but hardly one worth painting an excellently crafted ceramic drinking vessel. We’ll get to that.

The stop clock trudges on and Man City’s shot counter keeps the Opta man’s thumbs in a job. They pile on, wave after wave of pressure, Kalvin Phillips desperately smudging any passing lanes left open while Dallas and Robin Koch, who has replaced the knackered Roberts, scurry around in front of him. Raphinha gathers the ball on the edge of the Leeds half, a step over drawing the foul and lifting the lid on Sky Blue pressure. The home team grow frustrated, and Leeds look, though fighting the tide, remarkably settled in their City management.

The fourth official spins his board to the empty seats, three minutes for Leeds to hold on. Patient Costa footwork on the left wing squeezes the ball into Alioski, who slows himself and bends a sumptuous outside of the boot ball through the gap in City’s defence. Dallas bloody legs it, holding off Stones until he reaches the edge of the box. Ederson charges halfway but Dallas shoots early, rolling it under the Brazilian and into the empty net. A quiet bedlam. He waves his teammates over and they collapse onto him, flipping coffee tables across the living rooms of West Yorkshire.

Now, it’d be remiss of us to indulge in such a triumph without taking our cyber-spades out for a little statistical digging. Leeds may have won the game, but we all know that doesn’t mean anything on Twitter, so I’ve pulled some numbers from the nerds.

Man City: Twenty-nine shots, one goal.

Leeds: Two shots, two goals, one excellent mug.

What? An excellent mug, you say? A goal worthy of being immortalised in porcelain and stored proudly in the front of the kitchen cupboard, you say? That’s right. Forever to hold the tea of victory or the tears of a bald fraud. It’ll be a shame to see him go, but if he has to, I suppose that’s also of absolutely no impact to my life whatsoever. So thank you, Pep, for all the memories. ⬢

Say farewell to Pep Guardiola by drinking to his best moment in the Premier League, courtesy of Stuey Dallas and the rest of Bielsa’s beautiful boys. You could say it makes the perfect Father’s Day present…