Ben White — Don’t You Want Us?
The loan system can be a cruel mistress.
There’s no denying its importance in the game: allowing lower-league or financially limited clubs the opportunity to take on players they wouldn’t be able to attract or afford, and giving the parent clubs a chance to either give a young talent some much-needed experience, or offload a surplus player quickly if a permanent deal isn’t likely to happen. But, for all the positives, it’s still a coin-flip for everyone involved. Will the player adapt and commit to life at their temporary home? Will they be worth the wages or fee paid by the borrowing club? Will they be granted enough time on the pitch for the deal to be worthwhile to the parent club, or would it have made more sense to keep them training with their future teammates? Like any deal in football, loans come with risk attached, but every now and again, amidst all the disappointing deals, the stars align, and something wonderful happens.
2019/20 could be summed up at Leeds in four loan deals: Jack Harrison, the stalwart, basically a signed and sealed member of the squad already, but for legal reasons still on the books of Man City; Eddie Nketiah, the enigma, loaded with talent but afforded neither the time nor opportunity by either club to show what he could do before being called home; Jean-Kévin Augustin, the false-start, who came with so much promise before injury and match-fitness devolved into legal battles and broken contracts; and Ben White, the golden boy, the ever-present, ever-brilliant mould of a Bielsa centre-back, beloved by all and seemingly ready-made for life in the Premier League. The only snag, of course, being that he already belonged to a Premier League side; one that had no intention of selling a player that (surprisingly) wasn’t only considered a hot prospect within West Yorkshire. To paraphrase a famous Tweet — there’s nothing worse than catching feels for a loan player.
Cue pandemonium. Surely — surely — White would return. Why stay at a club like Brighton when Leeds United were calling? Why risk riding the bench in a soulless, flat-pack stadium on the south coast, when you were guaranteed to play every minute available at a real stadium, with bits falling off it and big metal poles obstructing the view from the stands? More importantly, who in their right mind would want to play under Graham Potter when Marcelo Bielsa was the alternative? And if all that wasn’t enough, White had clearly loved it at Leeds: he’d made friends, won the league, learnt from the master, even sang our songs on the steps of Elland Road in front of the raucous crowd that had gathered outside the stadium. It was only right, therefore, that Brighton would acquiesce, accept a more-than-generous offer, and let Ben fulfil his destiny with a team that truly recognised his talents. So why the hell weren’t they doing it?
In terms of modern transfer negotiations, the entire Ben White saga was surprisingly public and similarly odd in its finer details. Leeds made no secret of their desire to bring White back to Elland Road, while Brighton were just as open about their reluctance to let him go. As far as they were concerned, White was a Brighton player, under contract, and one they valued highly. As soon as a bid was put in, creeping ever-clear of £20m with each offer, it was rejected, the details plastered over every sports site imaginable. It was only when White’s agent appeared on Sky Sports News (as all agents tend not to do) that the real story became clear: Brighton were not going to sell Ben White to Leeds. There was no nuance behind the statement, no warnings to any other interested parties — it wasn’t that Ben White wasn’t for sale; he simply wasn’t for sale to Leeds.
Now, up until this point, Albion’s stance had been understandable. White was their player, they had no need to sell him, and they weren’t interested in giving away a player that was tipped for a huge future. It makes complete sense — imagine Leeds loaned out Oliver Casey to Blackburn, he played brilliantly and they smashed the league, he comes back to Leeds and Blackburn decide they want to sign him, making a public announcement of their intentions. I doubt there would be many Leeds fans happy to see the back of a talented youngster as he walked into another Premier League side (though I imagine the kind of money Leeds offered for White might appease some). For a real-world example, just look at the furore surrounding Grady Diangana at West Ham after his transfer to West Brom. However, Brighton’s insistence that White not be sold specifically to Leeds seemed, for lack of a better word, weird. Leeds and Brighton have never had a particular rivalry, there’s never been any real bad blood between the clubs (save a misjudged El-Hadji Diouf gesture), and there was a genuine suggestion that White wanted a return to a club that had, seemingly, got under his skin (in a good way), but Brighton made their position clear: if other clubs came in with similar money, maybe they’d budge, but not to a team they saw as a direct rival in terms of league competition. Real Madrid refusing Barcelona? Nobody wants more pig heads on the pitch. Spurs refusing Arsenal? Sol Campbell would probably advise it. But Brighton refusing Leeds? It either came from a sense of bitterness that White could possibly prefer another club, or fear that Leeds would out-perform them with White in the team. Either way, not a great look for a club that purports to be so well-organised and comfortable in their position as a top-flight side.
After that, what else could the Leeds board do but walk away? No amount of money (save a ridiculous fee) would alter Brighton’s position, and there were other options in the pipeline, though admittedly untested. White had turned down a few contract offers, so there was some hope that Albion had played themselves into a corner — they had made it public that they valued White at an extortionate price, and refused to let him join a team at which he would be a starting player — so in order to keep him happy, assumedly they would have to guarantee him a place in their first team and pay him enough money to warrant their valuation. If either of those things didn’t happen, the counter could be on, but one new contract and a clear inclusion in pre-season friendlies later and that counter was put to bed as if from a well-timed Kalvin Phillips tackle. Ben White was staying. As a parting shot, Brighton even handed him the number three shirt — “three Ben White” — a real 80’s teenage movie bad guy move. Leeds left as the heartbroken loser, crying into our trophy celebration photos of the boy we’d lost.
And so, as Axl Rose put it towards the end of that aforementioned decade, where do we go now? The kid, who was working as a waitress in a cocktail bar when we found him (or perhaps in Peterborough), apparently doesn’t want us no more, so how are we supposed to go on? How do we live without his cool defensive mind, or his marauding runs into the midfield? Well, as we coincidentally found out around this time last year - there’s always another option. When Pontus Jansson departed for That London, I’m happy to admit I was one of the voices bemoaning the signing of a young Brighton loanee to fill his boots. There was no way, I claimed, that a kid with no Championship experience could replace such an integral part of the team, despite his apparent potential, and I’m happy to report, dear reader, that I was in fact proven more wrong than I ever conceived possible. Robin Koch, who comes with very little of the trepidation surrounding his predecessor, may well prove to be the Pfälzer Ben White we all want him to be, or he may prove to be something else entirely in the same way we adapted to White from Jansson, or perhaps Pascal Struijk will fill that void, or Oliver Casey, or Charlie Cresswell. There’s always another option, and I’ve learned from experience that it’s better to simply wait and give this coaching team the chance to prove itself rather than pontificate on what may come to pass, even when it hurts to have to let go of the way you wanted things to happen.
It always felt, even though it was primarily a feeling based on bias, that White wanted to come back. Brighton fans mocked and scorned for even suggesting it, especially when the contract was signed and Ben was wheeled out in front of the cameras to say how happy he was to be staying, but there was always the indication that returning north was his desired outcome. And it wasn’t long after Koch had signed, signifying the end of Leeds’ chase, that the feeling became fact. Describing the title win as “the best time of my life” on an official Brighton video was a hint from the man himself, before his agent (again acting completely normally by appearing on TV to discuss his new deal) openly admitted that his client had been “disappointed” when offers from Leeds were turned down. You may have won the battle, 80s bad guy, but the movie ain’t over just yet.
In a way, it makes the situation more disappointing — knowing that White wanted to be here this season, carrying on what he’d started with a group of players and coaches he had clearly grown to love. It also makes Brighton’s actions seem even stranger, denying the player the move he specifically wanted as he turned down offer after offer of their improved terms before agreeing to stay once it became clear they weren’t budging. For Leeds, though, behind the disappointment of losing White, there are significant positives: firstly, vindication of the time and effort put into re-signing him, and, more importantly, proof — proof that not only are we are going in the right direction as a club, but also proof that top-quality talent wants to come here to play under Bielsa.
Ultimately, we may not have gotten exactly what we wanted, but we now have the opportunity to demonstrate that we’re more than capable of working with what we have. Who knows — we may well see Ben White in a Leeds shirt again, but it will come as a result of proving that we can succeed without him first.
Massive thanks to Will Duke for his illustration. Find him on Twitter + Instagram.
