You've ploughed through the tin of Quality Street like Wayne Rooney gorging on glorious goals, guiltily trudged with trepidation onto the scales and vowed to get fit, change your life and not look back, only forward. It was all going so well - then an old habit, or old face, came back and spoiled the party.

That's just how things feel at Leeds United right now. First Jonathan Douglas gets injured, then Shaun Derry and Deadly Den have a fall out that will probably prove fatal for Derry's Leeds career, followed by a New Year curtain-raiser that re-opened some old wounds.

Leeds are legendary for shooting themselves in the foot, hoofing the ball so far that no one can spot where it falls, dim defending that leaves even amateur schoolboys scratching their heads, and the manager tossing and turning in bed. It makes me all nostalgic for all the wrong reasons, bringing back "fond memories" of Roque Junior, and Raul 'Juliet' Bravo who were as reliable a last line of defence as Dad's Army.

'Leeds United are legendary for shooting themselves in the foot'


Then midfield mentalist David Batty, bless his heart, was more a brute than astute, and play-maker playboy Harry Kewell had style, but his attitude was one of the worst by a mile. As for our strikers, Smudger Smith could sniff out the odd goal or two but Jermaine Beckford's gone as gormless as he looked when he unsurprisingly got sent off for a blatant mistimed tackle.

Leeds were uninspiring on the pitch, but off it I found an outlet for my frustration. I picked up a pen and wrote this poem. When the going gets tough let it all out . . .

I hadn't been to a game for a while,
Trust me to pick the worst game of the season by a mile,
Oldham at home on New Year's Day,
Felt confident it would go our way.

The bleary-eyed fans might have been hungover,
But the players didn't seem much more sober!
Punch drunk defending,
Scoreline mind-bending.

Football as appetising as over-microwaved pud,
The game was a complete dud,
Hopeless 'hoof it up' horseplay so hard to stomach,
Hopes were beginning to plummet.

Bad enough the car park is now five quid.
And the shop still has a signed squad photo featuring a certain peroxide kid,
Losing is painful any day,
But not that way.

Headless chicken springs to mind,
Where's the midfield? Are you lot the quitting kind?
Where's the leader?
Where's the crowd pleaser?

The heart of Leeds United - us fans,
Are nervous about the January plans,
Derry and Wisey falling out,
Won't give the team much credible clout.

Show some pride,
Get the fans back on side,
Step up the pace,
Make Elland Road a fearsome place.