Left Back: Ian Harte
Ian Harte is a sinister fucker with ridiculous hair. I imagine that every Christmas, over turkey or whatever, he gloats about how he’s more renowned than his cousin and forerunner, Gary Kelly. During the late 90’s, there was a spell where Harte, a mere youth team prospect at Leeds, was just known as the younger one of those Irish fullbacks. And then an auntie died. Rather than going home for the funeral, Harte stayed in Yorkshire, taking up the position left by Kelly as he flew home to grieve, as a normal person might have done. He took the chance, and spent the next couple of years dividing opinion on the terraces as to whether he was an utter liability or a god.
If you were an actual, paid, proper journo, you might want to make a connection between the clinical dedication to advancing his own petty football career with the dead eyed manner in which Harte despatches free kicks. You might even make a poor joke about the link between someone dying and the fact that it helped to bring to prominence a man who specialises in dead balls. But that would be horrible.
Instead, it’s best to dwell on how completely one sided his early days as a professional were. The fact that his ability to pump a 30 yarder into the bottom corner meant George Graham, David O’ Leary or whatever hangdog middle aged wannabe had been given the Leeds hot seat couldn’t do the decent thing and drop him. Though that doesn’t explain why Seth Johnson was on 70 fucking grand a week.
Just as that particularly gravy train crashed and burnt and everyone who doesn’t support Leeds revelled in the death of a club that even the supporters can agree has been somewhat of a blight on football, Harte went to Spain. Maybe he had another funeral to dodge, or maybe he was hoping that he would be far enough away from his Irish homeland to not have to go to anymore funerals. It is ridiculous how much of that man’s life is dictated by the deaths of those that he should be closest to.
Following a few sun drenched years of getting Tim Stannard a couple of extra freelance jobs, he returned to these shores, actually looking like a decent defender. Now at Reading, he probably texts Gary Kelly on the way to matches, taking the piss out of the fact that he’s still got a career. But if he manages to put one away against your team next season, or even if you’re somehow linked with a transfer for his aging bones this season, remember: his whole career was built on the fact that he has the emotional mindset of the killer and the hairstyle of a shit boyband member. That and his ‘decent left peg’.
Matthew Britton
The Football Supernova:
September 1st, 2011 at 12:34 pm
Haha!! Hilarious stuff. I used to rate him in that Leeds side back in the day. Mainly because his freekicks looked good and anyone playing in a defence with Radebe could potentially look good. Still doesn’t explain Seth Johnson on 70k/week. Where has he vanished to?
James R.U Shaw:
September 1st, 2011 at 12:43 pm
The Seth Johnson story is a funny one.
After being offered a 10k wage, he and his agent went to see Peter Ridsdale to ask for 14k.
After a few seconds of dillerating, eyes looking gormlessly at his fishtank, Ridsdale turned around and said: ‘fine, 40 thousand a week it is.
Seth Johnson’s agent accepts.
Lanterne Rouge:
September 1st, 2011 at 10:54 pm
Fair point that managers are left with a choice on Harte – enjoy his skill on free kicks while tolerating his slowness in defence – it will be interesting to see if Joseph Mills displaces him in this current Reading team. But this is a piece based on knowledge encompassing his spell in the white of Leeds and that spell only.
Jude:
September 2nd, 2011 at 9:35 am
Hate to be picky… But Kelly is Harte’s uncle, not cousin.
Rorious:
September 3rd, 2011 at 7:06 pm
Truly magnificent opening line.
Nick Carter:
September 4th, 2011 at 10:32 am
‘everyone who doesn’t support Leeds revelled in the death of a club that even the supporters can agree has been somewhat of a blight on football’
‘the supporters’? Of whom or of what?
If you’re going to be supercilious with your tired and stereotypical received opinions, shouldn’t you also proof read what you’ve written? Or is the text just farted out by a giant, malfunctioning cliche machine?
“Ooh, I’m a Guardian reader so I call them Nasty Leeds because I’m funny like the Fiver writers, and plus Dick ‘Dick’ Williams and David Lacey never miss a chance to have a kick at them, and they must be right, mustn’t they, to the extent that when the latter launched an attack on Billy Bremner in his obituary, that was all right because he’d played for Leeds, and I skim read The Damned United and thought I understood it though actually I just nicked my opinion of it from the lazier reviews, and Bowyer and Woodgate, they were the scum of the earth and so different from the mass of Premier League footballers and I can only see the world in black and white and we all need someone to hate don’t we, and anyway it’s only a laugh”
Fuck off.
Hamilton:
September 4th, 2011 at 1:50 pm
He supports Leeds, you massive cunt.
Andy:
September 4th, 2011 at 3:34 pm
“Dirty Leeds” is a compliment. Like ODB (RIP).
rhimjimmy:
September 6th, 2011 at 3:51 pm
*facepalm*
Jaques Lazier is an American motor racer (not a book reviewer) and Matthew Britton, the author of this piece, is a Leeds fan.
Nick Carter needs to take a chill pill.
Jay:
September 17th, 2011 at 2:27 pm
Jealous much? And yes Kelly is his Uncle not cousin, but then again if you had done your homework you would know that!!