Gary Strachan – "Write" Said Fred
Whimsical observations from deep within an erratic mind
‘League One Leeds – A Journey Through The Abyss’ by author Rocco Dean; Reviewed by Gary Strachan I first visited Leeds United’s Elland Road home on 19th September 1970. A rite of passage allowing me to witness the most successful Leeds side to grace the LS11 turf. An overcast autumn Saturday seeing a John Giles penalty... Continue Reading →
Yesterday marked the second anniversary of the passing (from COVID-19) of ex-Leeds United footballer Norman Hunter. The indiscriminate pathogen, which's tainted millions of lives globally, proving a hard man reputation wouldn't deter it from maintaining a path of death and economic destruction. Enclosed below is the narrative I penned twenty four months ago in tribute... Continue Reading →
Indelibly etched on GJ Strachan's life canvas is the verve resultant from 1960's/70's football commentator David Coleman exclaiming "Lorimer. One-nil!" A regular childhood soundscape heard as a Leeds United number seven Peter Lorimer power driver thundered into an opponents net. The ball striking the netting with such ferocity that if the crowd roar hadn't have... Continue Reading →
Today, the sun looks down on me both figuratively and metaphorically. Not only are solar rays paying a welcome visit, but the gravy consequential from yesterday's confirmation of Leeds United as champions has reinvigorated my mood to a plateau not tarried for many a year. Euphoria's an infrequent visitor to GJ Strachan's over-analysing mind. For... Continue Reading →
This afternoon, I was desperately sad to hear of the passing of ex-Leeds United centre back Norman Hunter's from COVID-19, at the age of 76. Even when you're not personally acquainted with the deceased, it's a sombre time when the lost contributed towards numerous existential high points. Throw into the mix this childhood idol passed... Continue Reading →
I've just returned from a round trip to Cheshire, picking up my mother from her Christmas hiatus at my sisters home. Bringing back the matriarch home to West Yorkshire, ending my few angst-free days of solitude. Mater (Maggie) was in fine spirits on the journey home, her yuletide spent in the company of my youngest... Continue Reading →
Yesterday, in the narrative Till Death Us Do Part, I wrote of a late April evening in 1970 when introduced to the misery of witnessing my football amours, Leeds United, falling at the final hurdle. The first of many heartbreaking experiences over the past five decades when they were a hairsbreadth from achieving their seasons trophy or promotion... Continue Reading →
The journey started on Wednesday 29th April 1970 when I was seven summers old. On jumping out of bed that particular morning my mood reflected the bright sunshine fulgently radiating through open drapes into my easterly facing bedroom. On leaving my bed chamber, I undertook my habitual sideways run down the stairs of my home... Continue Reading →