The 49ers went one week before Leedsing all their plans
The 49ers season was going to be Trey Lance vs Jimmy Garappolo all season. Then came game two!
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The 49ers season was going to be Trey Lance vs Jimmy Garappolo all season. Then came game two!
And between every known-unknown of Trey Lance one can see Jimmy Garappolo peering, his all-star eyes flashing, the cut-stone chin just visible.
As the new NFL season gets underway, it's time to check in on LUFC's most tenuous sporting connection since that racing car team.
This is the tension of Leeds and Radrizzani. We don’t want our club to conform to the corporate machine of the Premier League, and while it is subject to the whims of its owner, it won’t. But will Leeds United ever prosper if it keeps eschewing commercial sense to indulge the owner’s whims?
The idiotic waste of energy, with the net result of weakening an area of the squad that was strong, condemns the board more than any accusations of poverty. They've got money. What's lacking is sense.
What we've learned this year, in February and September, is that Leeds' board talk a good game about being committed to their carefully composed strategies, then crack. That is not a good look.
Imagine the clammy cold creeping across Kinnear's loins as Rodrigo went staggering off in the first half, sobbing and huffing oxygen to dull the searing pain in his shoulder.
United's whole day was summed up when Struijk watched his clearance rolling towards his corner flag, and the camera caught his eyeroll when the ball clipped the pole and fell corner side, not throw-in. Typical.
Watching Klich here took me back, feeling circular, to the first time he grabbed our attention, a great game and a penalty in a shoot-out against Burnley in the Carabao Cup in 2017, followed a week later by a mistake costing a goal on his first league start against Neil Warnock's Cardiff.
Brenden Aaronson just loves grass. Green grass. Yellow grass. Part-synthetic grass. All the grass, he loves all the grass, loves running in it, rolling in it, being on it, dancing across it, eating it up metaphorically with his running feet and perhaps literally with his hungry mouth.