Maybe it was always destined to end this way. Shortly before the hour mark at Bramall Lane, Illan Meslier got the ball at his feet from a goal kick and Junior Firpo began slowly ambling upfield while the rest of his defence recycled possession. By the time Leeds worked it to the right wing and Ao Tanaka swung a cross into Sheffield United’s penalty area, Firpo was standing on the penalty spot as Leeds’ makeshift centre-forward, meeting the ball with an ugly header that flew harmlessly over the crossbar. Firpo has taken his role as a false 3 to the extreme this season, regularly popping up on the right wing or as a number 10, so perhaps trying to transform himself into a modern day Lee Chapman was the only logical conclusion.

For all the LOLs that Firpo provides, it should never be ignored that this season more than any other, he really fucking wants it. In the summer he spoke on a number of occasions about his disappointment that Leeds didn’t let him represent the Dominican Republic at the Olympics, and ever since he has played with a visible determination that if he had to give up on that ambition for what could be his final campaign at Elland Road, he is not going to let four years of perseverance through injuries, suspensions, relegations, and play-off final defeats end in anything other than glory. It was written all over his face when he stormed down the tunnel at the Stadium of Light after Illan Meslier’s blunder robbed him of a winning goal, and it was there once again at Bramall Lane as, ten minutes after his initial wayward header, he made the same run towards the penalty spot and crashed Dan James’ cross into the far corner with a header that Lee Chapman, John Charles, or any great Leeds United goalscorer would have been proud of.

Oh Leeds United, I’m so delighted to have you as my football team! And ‘team’ is precisely the word to focus on after a second season-defining win in the space of seven days. For all the talk of Leeds having the most talented squad and the highest wage bill in the Championship in 2024/25, these last gasp explosions of delirium against Sunderland and Sheffield United have been a reward for a nerveless resilience, unwavering belief, and sheer bloody-minded grit that not only are we not fucking losing, we’re going to keep fighting until all three points belong to Leeds United and nobody else.

That’s not easy, and Sheffield United tried their hardest to make it as difficult as possible. Firmly locked in a battle for the title ahead of kick-off, Chris Wilder was never going to set his team out to meekly retreat like they did in the fixture between the two sides at Elland Road earlier in the season.

Instead, this was how that fixture should have played out back in October, when Meslier was making his first appearance since that howler at the Stadium of Light and was still trying to banish any demons from his mind. Meslier has been much improved in recent weeks, yet this time around Wilder’s side rattled the goalkeeper from the opening whistle, reducing him to a silhouette of Felix Wiedwald being spooked by his own six-yard box while playing for Leeds at Hillsborough. He flapped at a corner. He flapped at a long throw. He had to be saved from flapping the ball into his own net by Ilia Gruev’s headed goalline clearance. Crucially, he wasn’t being given much help by the defence in front of him that was shorn of injured captain Ethan Ampadu. And cruelly, when he did eventually flap the ball into his own net, it was following a fantastic save that tipped Callum O’Hare’s header onto the crossbar and a terrible miss from Tyrese Campbell from the follow-up, hitting the post instead of the empty net only for the ball to bounce off the woodwork and in off Meslier’s palm before he had time properly react.

For the opening quarter, it felt like Leeds had walked into a trap set by Wilder and were in for a long night of being physically bullied by their opponents, who were sharper into tackles, stronger in challenges, and quicker in moving the ball into the spaces left all over the pitch. But Leeds calmed down as the game neared half-time, even though that skittishness remained in their attackers, Dan James blazing over and Manor Solomon shooting straight at Michael Cooper after cutting in from the left in Leeds’ best chance of the opening 45 minutes.

That bubbling sense of confidence only grew in the second half, especially when Daniel Farke — watching high from the gantry while banned from the touchline — went unusually early with his subs, introducing Mateo Joseph and Joe Rothwell for the ineffective Gruev and Brenden Aaronson. To steal a phrase from Howard Wilkinson, Farke has taught his players how to trust their swing. Indeed, nobody believes in this Leeds team more than the players themselves. While I was relatively hopeful Leeds might force an equaliser, once Firpo thumped in his header for 1-1 did I really think they’d go on to snatch all three? After the bedlam against Sunderland last week, that would be preposterous.

But for both good and bad, Leeds United as a football club is at its most comfortable dealing with the preposterous. We do chaos better than anyone else. Step forward once more, Junior Firpo: Target Man. After sub Wilf Gnonto was denied the goal of the season by Cooper pawing his arcing shot out of the top corner, Rothwell sent in the resulting set-piece, and there again was Firpo lurking around the penalty spot, winning a header down towards the back post, where Ao Tanaka headed it back across goal and over the line. Cue pandemonium. Jumping around my local pub, I thought I’d never been more jealous of a moment in an away end.

I was mistaken. A minute later, Leeds attacked from the restart, Dan James scampering down the right and passing to Joel Piroe at the edge of the box. After an hour and a half of a classic Piroe performance that left you wondering whether anyone had bothered to tell him there was a game of football going on around him, he unleashed the purest strike of his career that flashed past Cooper and into the top corner. Pandemonium, meet carnage. While Piroe continued looking like the most unfazed person in the stadium, Joe Rodon yelled fuck off at the home fans before urging the away end to pump it up.

Only just noticed Joe Rodon yelling fuck off at the home fans after Joel Piroe’s goal. Think he might be the love of my life.

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— Rob Conlon (@robconlon.bsky.social) 25 February 2025 at 12:43

Drink it in. Savour every second. Appreciate what this team and this manager are doing for this club while they’re doing it right now in front of our very eyes. Nights like this don’t come around very often at Leeds United. Only twice a week. ⬢

(Photograph by Pat Scaasi, via Alamy)