There should be an air of panic around Elland Road, but it’s hard to locate. Have the past few years been so traumatic that no one can yet admit that a season ticket starting in August could be for League One? Al Needham investigates
Norris. That’s who I think of automatically when Leeds United’s glory years come to mind. Not Don Revie with his reams of dossiers, or sock-tags, or the Smiley badge, or seats on the pitch of the Parc des Princes. I think of horrible, devious, pill-pushing Norris, the ginger vermin of Slade prison who conned poor Blanco out of his treasure map in that episode of Porridge, only to find himself desperately scrabbling away in the dead of night in front of the imperious East Stand with the floodlights at full glare and the police advancing.