God bless you Barry Douglas. Bristol. I was in tears.
My van is fucked. It has a dodgy wheel bearing, suspension issues, a crack in the windscreen, one of the dogs puked in it years ago and the smell never really went. But fucking hell what a vehicle. It has took me to the tops of mountains, it has been filled with half naked models snorting cocaine while I talked about chalk from a geological perspective. They found it hilarious. But my van is not what I need any more. It is still brilliant, but now I want an auto gearbox, a faster responding throttle, petrol, an estate. You see the vehicle I have now hasn’t changed, it’s still my favourite van I’ve ever owned…but I’ve changed. It’s me who isn’t the psychopath any more who does wild things in the mountains. I’ve chilled out. I don’t like driving any more. I want to feel like I am sitting in a comfy chair and I only have to move one foot.
Thing is about Barry is that he hasn’t changed. He’s still the consummate athlete, the dead ball expert, yes, he had much more to his game than that but…fucking hell Leeds are getting a bargain. Barry hasn’t changed but we as a club have. Douglas was a tool we needed for part one, the Championship. Now there is a different problem, an obstacle in the way. That is the pits and pratfalls of the posh end up there. Premier league shit. Things are different up there. Last season we were playing Ron Argoscatalogue and Jemail Jermallionz-Brown or whatever their names were. Now it’s going to be games against Runnio Fastio and Jesus Lukatimgo. Could we expect Barry to face these denizens of the Premier? We will never know. That particular problem must be played out in an alternate universe. But never in this one.
This next stage of the grand plan maybe calls for a nexus if you like of highly talented, skilful, artistic players, around them constantly revolving satellite team who are utilised ruthlessly but with great reward by the subtle management of Nuno and the Fosun entity. We of course will love them and then have to wave goodbye as our club makes a profit on each one which we then utilise in the transfer market buying depressed young Mediterranean men who lack direction. Bringing them under the tutelage of the coach that will be one of the greatest football coaches in the world in the next ten years. They join the team, they learn the philosophy and then they are sent out like Missionaries into the league that has been lacking any viable philosophy for a long time. We will grow. Witness the propaganda already. They are the drums of war being beaten by people that do not like us, and do not like our owners. Dark times ahead of course.
Just a thought. Farewell Barry, but not goodbye. Come and see us soon with Leeds and don’t forget to lose the knowledge you learned (except if you play us again).