Why I'll always love L'Boya

As 205 long-suffering followers will testify to, I like using my Twitter account. Most of my 5386 (at the time of writing) tweets are of no use to anyone. Pro-Leeds United, pro-Jermaine Beckford and lots of Millie Clode-based voyeurism.

I use my account to follow plenty of people too, one of whom is the respected football journalist Henry Winter of the Telegraph. I admire his work and, particularly like his apparent soft spot for Leeds.

However, one of his recent tweets caught my eye and prompted me to write this blog.

In the wake of the Wayne Rooney rumours last weekend, Winter said, via his Twitter account that he should be forgiven because, unlike Joey Barton and Lee Bowyer, he wasn’t a lost cause.

And that got me wondering. Why do people think Bowyer is a lost cause? What are your memories, thoughts of Lee Bowyer?

For most of you it will be his unsavoury on-field fight with then Newcastle team-make Keiron Dyer, or his snarling, red face as he not-so-politely told referee Jeff Winter what he thought of him after he sent him off during Leeds’ 2-1 win at Arsenal in August 2002.

Beyond that, there was his and Jonathan Woodgate's trial, or his conviction following an altercation in a London branch of McDonalds.

But, as a season ticket holder at Elland Road since 1999, my views of him are somewhat different and it frustrates me as to why he is seeing out his days with a reputation as a kicker at Birmingham, rather than being given a ticker-tape send off.

As a year nine, 10 and 11 student. Bowyer was my hero. My God. As a pupil at a Catholic High School, I ranked him above the big man upstairs.

He epitomised everything that was good about supporting Leeds United. No-one likes us; no-one liked him in particular. And, even as the general mood towards our side softened as David O’Leary’s ‘babies’ threatened to win the Champions League, Bowyer remained the outcast. The proverbial black sheep.

And with that the fans took to him like no other player I can remember. While he will not have fond memories of the two trials he and Jonathan sat through, Leeds fans, or at least this Leeds fan, look back on that period with a romantic tint in the eye.

I don’t think I’m over-egging the situation when I call some of the football he played during the 2000-01 season as perfect. I have never seen a player play as well over the course of the season as he did during that campaign. He scored 15 goals from midfield and, I’m so tragically sad, that I could probably recall all the goals now.

It wasn’t just the goals, though. It was the spirit, the drive and the way he connected with the fans. That once-in-a-decade bond that fans have with certain players. When I see the banners that adorn Old Trafford with Roy Keane’s name on them, it makes me annoyed that Bowyer is no longer idolised on in the Elland Road Kop. There should be banners and songs for him when fans choose to walk down memory lane.

It is hard to talk about Bowyer’s time with Leeds without mentioning ‘the trial’. The first thing worth pointing out is that he was acquitted of all the charges brought against him. It’s become the fashion, though, for pundits, fans and observers alike to just assume that he was found guilty.

Nope, he was acquitted. Just like Steven Gerrard, the England captain was earlier this year.

Bowyer, though, was banned from playing for England. During that 2000-01 season there was no better player, let alone midfielder, in the country than Bowyer. He was not allowed to be picked for England and, staggeringly, there was no place for him in the PFA Team of the Season.

The fact that Teddy Sheringham walked away with the PFA Footballer of the Year for that season was a joke. It was Bowyer’s prize.

Throughout both trials he did not train with the side. He trained alone in the gym of his hotel near Hull Crown Court. He arrived at night games by helicopter and went on to single-handedly win us a Champions League game against Anderlecht with a last-minute winner. He had only arrived at the ground minutes before kick-off.

The trial ended in the December of 2001. Bowyer was cleared of any charges, but was soon hit with a fine from the club on the basis that his involvement in the night out was worthy of the punishment. Bowyer refused to pay it and he went on the transfer list.

The subsequent game at home to Everton remains one of the most memorable of my Leeds supporting life. We were top of the table at the time, and Bowyer watched the game from the TV gantry. When Robbie Fowler scored one of his two goals on the night, the players ran as one and picked out Bowyer. The fans sang his name all night and a banner was passed around that read: “Losing Bowyer means losing the title – it’s your choice.” We lost the title, but the sentiment remains.

Two days later Bowyer was off the transfer list. He played against Newcastle the next day and opened the scoring in front of the Newcastle fans who were housed in the South Stand. Bowyer went utterly ballistic after scoring. He almost clambered in to the away end such was the vitriol with which he celebrated.

The Newcastle fans, never short of an opinion, had spent the last 12 months revelling in singing “Bowyer’s going down” – the anthem that had been sung at every ground in the Premier League.

But, that was it. That was the end of the fairytale for Leeds fans.

Bowyer remained in the side for another 12 months, scoring the odd goal, crunching into the odd tackle, but the spark, the magic, the love had gone. Things were never the same again.

A move to Liverpool came close to happening, before he was eventually offloaded to West Ham in the early spring of 2003. And with it, a legend left Elland Road. A short-term legend, granted, but a legend nonetheless.

He was never given the chance to have the send-off he deserved, for the fans to sing his name with unbridled passion one last time. Peter Ridsdale, out infamous chairman, had overseen the sale of ‘the crown jewels’ and fans bemoaned the loss of Woodgate and Harry Kewell, but never Bowyer.

He was snuck out of a side door. Ridsdale is remembered for the goldfish in the boardroom and the champagne wages he paid to Seth Johnson. But I will never forget the way he saw Bowyer, the player the closest to the fans, out of the club, and essentially made it look as though he had wanted to go.

The fans that celebrated his last-minute winners against AC Milan and Anderlecht, those that saw him hit the winner on a Wednesday at Villa Park, those that named him as the Player of the Year in 2002, would never have wanted him to leave. And this particular fan thinks that he never wanted to leave either.

So it annoys me when respected commentators rubbish Bowyer’s career, labelling him as a lost cause. He’s made mistakes, granted. Maybe a couple more than he should. But for his place in the history of the Premier League to be glossed over, almost scrubbed out is grossly unfair.