Forgive Me, Father.
At some point in the future, Sky Sports won’t show the clip of Marcelo Bielsa ordering his team to allow Aston Villa to score an uncontested goal against us ahead of any match involving our two sides. I’m not sure exactly when that will be, but given neither coach involved that day is employed by either club, perhaps it’s time to let it go. Though this is a media organization that still shows clips of Roy Keane and Patrick Vieira whenever Man United and Arsenal play, so I don’t think we can hold out much hope.
There’s a lot that frustrates me about the constant repetition of what, ultimately, was a moment that should have been applauded for its sportsmanship then left to be featured on a Question of Sport “what happens next?” feature every few years, but the thing that particularly grates is the footage that is never shown. Namely, the 1am-outside-Wetherspoons gesturing of esteemed professionals Dean Smith and John Terry on the sidelines, who — as the players under their tutelage were grabbing, pushing or punching anyone they could find — decided to maturely discuss the volatile situation with Marcelo Bielsa by shushing him, waving him away, and shouting what I’m sure were extremely respectful comments (you know, something Terry in particular is renowned for). It was real demonstration of emotional control from some proper British blokes; in vast contrast to the explosive tempers of those foreign types on the opposition bench.
While I’ve always agreed with Bielsa’s actions following the kerfuffle, as frustrating as it was to watch, I can’t pretend it didn’t irk me that, our nefarious actions aside, Smith and Terry were rewarded for their frankly ridiculous response with a free equaliser. It was like watching a parent giving into their toddler, kicking and screaming on the floor of the supermarket, by buying them ice cream for eventually calming down. Yes, the situation had been placated, and the other shoppers had gone back to their business, but had Smith and Terry learned anything? Had they grown as human beings? Considering Smith is now back in the Championship, raising bushy eyebrows amongst the Norwich fanbase, and Terry is hawking racist NFTs to anyone dumb enough to buy one, I’d say no. Perhaps the best thing for them would be to have refused them the goal and explain to them afterwards that, had they asked nicely, we would have happily allowed them it.
Bielsa, as ever, chose the high road. It didn’t matter how other coaches acted on the sidelines, or the countless underhanded comments that were made in media rooms around the country, Bielsa chose never to stoop. I, like with so much during his time here, became so used to this approach that I was almost panicked by the sight of Jesse Marsch getting into it with Bruno Lage on the sideline after the final whistle had gone against Wolves.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. When Bielsa’s side won, he hugged his opposition, spending a good minute telling them, in no uncertain circumstances, why they should have won instead of him. This was a time for celebration and self-reflection, not for aggression. All in front of poor, impressionable Archie Gray. I should have been appalled.
And yet, there I was, disgraced by the sin of success, wallowing in the pestilence of contentment. I had forgotten myself; taken leave of my senses. Reader, I enjoyed it.
I reveled in that aggression. Who was Lage to brush off Jesse Marsch so openly? To accuse him of some kind of wrong-doing? He, whose team played with all the grace and integrity of Ryan Giggs’ personal life, thought he could besmirch the name of our good, honest, All-American and expect no resistance? Think again, buddy. This ain’t Jesse’s first rodeo.
After the dust had settled, and I stopped using tired Americanisms, I found myself reflecting on my reaction. Surely this went against everything I had learned from Marcelo Bielsa over the last 4 years? How could I call myself a true disciple if I abandoned his magnanimity and composure after only a few months? Of course, I should have enjoyed the victory, perhaps even allowed myself a little double-armed fist pump, but I shouldn’t be championing that kind of behaviour. Think of the children. Think of Archie Gray.
But maybe, just maybe, what we really need to get over the departure of Bielsa is someone so starkly different in his approach. Maybe it isn’t really about the tactics, or the personnel, or the interviews… maybe it’s the attitude. We all joked when Marsch singled out Jack Harrison, claiming he needed a bit more “son of a bitch” about him, but perhaps it goes further than that.
Many Leeds fans will tell you that Marcelo Bielsa made them better people: more understanding, more patient, more empathetic. It’s why we took his departure so hard, because he made us care too much. Maybe, in order to move on from him, we all need to rediscover the bite that Jesse Marsch wants from his team.
To be honest, if all it results in is a mass brawl and a new clip to play ahead of our games with Aston Villa, I’ll be happy.
