Mateo Joseph’s brain was fried and who could blame him? Two minutes earlier, he’d been standing in front of the away end open-mouthed, wondering what the hell was going on, holding onto the only certainty in his life: Willy Gnonto. The last thing Joseph needed was Swansea’s goalkeeper succumbing to an inevitable breakdown, leaving him with an open goal when all he wanted was the referee to blow the final whistle so we could all salvage any last semblance of sanity. When the ball first landed at his feet, the penalty area was empty. By the time he finally shot, he was one of twelve players to have appeared in the box. He didn’t score, but nobody could get too angry. Everyone just needed a lie down.

Make no mistake, this was Leeds United at our psychedelic best. Pat Bamford even grew a Sgt Pepper’s ‘stache for the occasion. While Pascal Struijk giddily ran to join the knees-up in the aftermath of Wilf’s winner, brimming with the ecstasy of being revived from the realms of a bad trip, Gnonto and Joseph looked momentarily awed, as if peering down the barrel of a kaleidoscope and catching a glimpse of a higher consciousness.

Struijk knee ups running at the away end got me 😂😂 https://t.co/ZOkiDg1PQ2

— Tomo (@tomo_w94) November 24, 2024

And make no mistake, this is what we’ve been craving, even if it should come with a health warning. Time seemed to stretch as Gnonto waited to eventually put the ball into the net. The release of emotions afterwards? Joy, anger, relief, frustration, and, more than anything, hilarity. What a daft fucking football club! Hahahaha!

Intoxicating? Undoubtedly. Sending us all to an early grave? Almost certainly. I’ve already made my peace with that and I suggest you do too.

So where do we start with all this? Given everything else was turned upside down, it makes sense to begin with the end. Moments after Swansea had seemingly stolen one point and I was cursing how Leeds had thrown away two, Ao Tanaka and Dan James only had eyes for all three. All afternoon, they were the two players determined to drag Leeds to victory. First Tanaka helped United win the ball back and surged down the left wing, covering the only blades of grass he’d yet to conquer. Then James took the ball away from the path of Brenden Aaronson, knowing only one of them had the quality to pick the final pass to Gnonto, and it wasn’t Aaronson. Obviously, I’ve had to watch it back to work out what happened, because my notepad only contains a deranged scrawl in huge letters:

4-3! FUCK OFF!

That Gnonto was unmarked, in so much space, and still onside, also goes a long way to explaining why Leeds managed to escape a storm in South Wales with all three points. While I applaud Swansea for being the first team all season to have a go against Leeds and make a game of it, dear god, lads, what is wrong with your defence? Failing to learn the lessons of last season’s drubbing at home to Leeds, Swansea continued standing on the rake of slapstick defending, gifting United the one thing they yearn in the Championship: space.

It was the same story for Leeds’ three preceding goals — Swansea’s full-backs as invisible as Rasmus Kristensen under Jesse Marsch, leaving James and Sam Byram to pick out Manor Solomon unmarked in the six-yard box for his first goals in a Leeds shirt. When Solomon wasn’t in position to finish James’ second pass across goal, Ben Cabango stuck it in his own net on Leeds’ behalf rather than leave it for the lurking Joel Piroe to score against his former club again.

On the evidence of Leeds’ last two visits to Swansea, how they’ve got the sixth-best defence in the league is a mystery. Somehow it was the first time they’ve conceded more than once in a game this season, which tells me two things — the rest of this division is garbage, and sometimes there is just chaos in the air and you’ve got to go with it.

Not that Leeds’ defence covered itself in any glory either, the usually dependable Struijk and Joe Rodon suddenly spooked by crosses into the box and long balls up to the striker. United’s defending of a free-kick for Harry Darling’s opener was straight from the bad ol’ days, while Struijk couldn’t really blame the sodden pitch for losing the ball in the build-up to Liam Cullen’s scuffed goal just before the break, punishing Leeds for sleepwalking through the final twenty minutes of the first half.

Given the story of Leeds’ successes under Daniel Farke has been based on the solidity of the defence, by the time Rodon was beaten at a cross to the near post for Florian Bianchini’s late equaliser, I was bemoaning how nothing ever makes sense at this godforsaken football club. Two minutes later, I’d decided logic is for losers, and the top of the league is for Leeds United. ⬢

(Photograph by Nick Potts, via Alamy)