What If...Ridsdale Was Proper Yorkshire

<>A lot of folk are saying that the Abu Dhabi royals planning to spend over a hundred million quid on a player is a sign that the game has gone mad. Well, we've been bonkers for a bit longer than that here in Britain. Allow us to present a story of such deranged dealing as to make the Kaka deal look like buying treasury bonds...

It's October 2001. A close-cropped 22-year-old and his agent walk into Peter Ridsdale's office at Leeds United. Leeds have decided they want a tough, no-nonsense midfielder who can also score goals. They've decided they want Derby County's Seth Johnson. He's recently got an England cap and they are prepared to pay seven million quid for him. That's a lot of brass.

Leeds had reached the Champions League semi-final that spring with a youthful, exciting side of English and Irish players supplemented by some powerful foreign signings. Okay, Valencia were too good for them in that semi and they got squeezed out into fourth spot, but there was a real sense of possibility about the place. Cast your mind back: a lot of neutrals actually didn't hate Leeds, for the first time since, ooh, the invention of the automobile. David O'Leary was not thought of as a bad joke. Great days in Yorkshire tha' knows. Put the kettle on, mother.

For the 2001-2002 season they're expecting to push on but they have failed to qualify for the Champions League and the consequent lack of funds means they have blown their wad and fallen short. No-one seems to know this at the time though or if they do, they're not admitting it just yet.

Ridsdale is still spending money like a sailor in a brothel and says - as the legend goes - they can "only" offer Johnson £30,000 a week. Johnson's agent understandably lets out a moan of shock. Ridsdale takes this as a criticism of such a low amount and immediately ups the bid to £37,000 without further discussion. The deal is done. Johnson and the agent presumably run out of the office at top speed trying not to leap in the air and click their heels.

That is the story, anyway. It has come to define the profligate insanity of Leeds United that was to bring about their downfall to the third tier, where they now languish.

Johnson played just over 40 league games in four years during which time Leeds imploded and were relegated. He was shipped out before playing 50 games - apparently so as not to invoke a further payment to Derby. They could no longer afford his wages. Indeed they never really could.

It wasn't long before Rio Ferdinand had to be sold to cover debts and 18 months later, after disastrous spells under Venables and Reid, they are relegated. What if Ridsdale hadn't offered Johnson that stupid amount of money? What if, like every other Yorkshireman, he'd had deep pockets but short arms? What would have become of Leeds?

Leeds' financial problems are a whole soap opera in themselves and, to say the least, complicated but the core problem seems to be that loans had been taken out against future income from Champions League; income that never manifested itself, so at some point in 2002 the money had run out and the repayments couldn't be met.

By the time Johnson arrived in October 2001 the damage was already done. Leeds had had a couple of years paying huge fees for players good, bad and indifferent.

The money that had brought the likes of Robbie Keane (12 million), Ferdinand (18 million), Darren Huckerby (6 million), Mark Viduka (6 million), Michael Bridges (5 million), Olivier Dacourt (7.2 million), Michael Duberry (4.2million) and Danny Mills (4 million) to the club had given them a chance of the big time and the big money. Their epic run in the Champions League was the stuff of dreams but they'd sold the farm to do it. Well I'll go t'foot of our stairs.

However, before O'Leary and his 'babies' set about taking on Europe's finest, Leeds had finished fifth under George Graham and were making very decent progress built on the solid central defence of Lucas Radebe and the striking power of Jimmy Floyd Hasselbaink. The money spent that eventually bankrupted the club gave them a couple of European Cup runs and allowed them to stay within in the top five. It was a magnificent couple of seasons, but was it worth it in the long run?

The Leeds youth team had produced the likes of Jonathon Woodgate, Alan Smith and Paul Robinson, so the core of a good side was present before the insanity spending began. Without the big splurge, whose crowning glory was the money whizzed away on Johnson, Leeds could have looked forward to building a successful side on its young players alongside a few good signings. They may well have not reached the heights of O'Leary's side, but the lows would never have been anywhere near as low.

So if Johnson hadn't been offered £37,000 per week and a £7.2 million quid transfer, it would have suggested Leeds United was being run properly and weren't in danger of going down the pan. The fact that he was bought effectively sealed Leeds' fate. What's really mad about it is that, even if the club had secured the much-quoted 25 million quid teams are said to get from the Champions League, they were losing 50 million a year in 2002-2003 anyway.

Johnson's career has tanked worse than Leeds. He's been without a club since October 2007 with just 252 league games across 13 years for Crewe, Leeds and Derby under his belt. He's not yet 30. But don't feel sorry for him, thanks to Ridsdale's largesse, Seth picked up over seven and a half million quid in his four years in West Yorkshire, which was around 150k per match he played for them, so clearly he's rich enough not to have to work again.

Had the club been run with even a modicum of restraint, Leeds could easily be alongside Aston Villa and Everton, maybe even better. They had a large, loyal crowd and Elland Road was as fierce a place to go to as any.

Instead, they face trips to MK Dons and defeats to Histon in the Cup, to go with the 25 points deducted over two seasons. When people say that it's crazy to spend 100 million on Kaka, they should spare a thought for the Leeds fans still wrapped in the straitjacket of third-tier football and worse still, being owned by a cockney. All thanks to the madness of King Peter. Eh worra reyt 'un that lad were!

John Nicholson and Alan Tyers