Tony Currie, first time: Arsenal vs Leeds United, August 1978
Tony Currie was a symbol of the post-Revie transformation of Leeds United from a clinical winning machine to something more relaxed, and much less effective. Nicer hair, taller floodlights, no more trophies. But what Don Revie had drilled into his players, they now drilled into Tony Currie.
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He took the shot first time, Tony Currie. First chance he got. No delay and most importantly not even a doubt. There wasn't another player in the league who could miss this chance because there wasn't another one brave enough to try it. Or mad enough to try it. And when Tony Currie tried it he scored, first time. Hitting it first time.
This is the opening day of the 1978/79 season. This is the seventh minute of the first game. This is Arsenal hosting Leeds United at Highbury, north London. Those are the Gunners' fans, behind the goal line a couple of feet in front, and behind the sideline a couple of feet right. There's George Graham on the Arsenal wing, there's David O'Leary, the young man in defence. That's Pat Jennings, the international goalkeeper regarded as the best in the business. Behind him is the goal, where the ball wants putting.
But where is Tony Currie?
Tony Currie is in London, his hometown, after a good summer, feeling the sun on his arms. They're reddening pleasantly below the shoulders of his bright yellow Leeds United shirt. His shirt has a big and blocky number 10 stitched on the back so everybody can see it's being worn by Tony Currie. Everybody can see that he is running around the outside of Eddie Gray, the winger drifting centrally with Allan Clarke's no.8 on his back: everything is unusual since Don Revie left Leeds. Tony Currie is on his way towards the corner flag, running free, while all Arsenal's defenders are worrying about Eddie.
They are right to worry about Eddie. Because everything Eddie can do from this position is contained in what he does next. He can dribble past three players, he can shoot, he can cut towards the wing and cross, and he can play a long ball over the pitch to the far wing. He can do anything. He's Eddie Gray. And all those things Eddie can do are contained within what Eddie does do, which is pass the ball down the line into the path of Tony Currie's run.
The weight on that pass is sublime. It has been sublime since 1964. From an exulted start that pass has been refined over years. Years when Eddie was being told by John Giles to play it better, when Terry Cooper was demanding it better, when Don Revie was bluffing through a list of players he'd buy to do it better. By Eddie Gray's pride in everything he does being the best.
And then that quality can still catch you by surprise when you notice it. When the weight on the pass is so good that the player Eddie is giving the ball to is given the ball with choices, possibilities, a gift of imagination from Eddie Gray. Go on, Tony son. Now imagine all the things you can do with that ball.
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