Jesse Marsch left stranded as glimmer of light on Leeds tenure fades away
Jesse Marsch had started to resemble a hill walker lacking a compass, map or mobile phone signal who finds himself stranded among unfamiliar and remote terrain as dusk descends. The last glimmer of light finally faded on his Elland Road tenure on Monday when he was sacked as Leeds’s manager 11 months after succeeding Marcelo Bielsa, but as early as New Year’s Eve the endgame had begun.
Leeds had just earned a hardfought point at Newcastle, but it swiftly became clear all was far from well. “This job’s always stressful,” said a man whose team failed to win his final seven league games and are out of the relegation zone on goal difference.
“It’s like I hate it but I have to keep going. I try to enjoy the moment and be there for everyone but I hate the stress. The enjoyment is the people at the club and the players and the relationships we have.
“There’s nothing better than standing in the technical area right before kick-off; it’s right where you want to be – but it’s also awful, stressful beyond belief. And then, when what defines matches is such a fine margin of success and failure, it’s not so easy to process. For a manager it can be lonely – 2022 had been a big challenge for me, a difficult year.”
The 49-year-old was always refreshingly open emotionally, but a man deeply affected by the sudden death of a close friend, the leading American sports writer Grant Wahl, at the World Cup in Qatar in December, had never been quite that candid or seemed so vulnerable. Marsch and Wahl forged a tight bond as students at Princeton University, where the former majored in history, producing an 117-page thesis entitled: “Shaken not stirred: an evaluation of earthquake awareness in California”.
The academic side of Marsch coexisted with the down to earth, streetwise edge acquired during his working-class childhood as the son of a tractor factory production line worker in Racine, Wisconsin.
The United States midwest is noted for the niceness and humility of its inhabitants, but when Marsch first arrived at Leeds, a certain cockiness that had, as a player, helped turn him into a fearsomely competitive midfield enforcer in the MLS, was manifested by the sort of macho technical area body language that frequently annoyed rival
managers.
Behind that sometimes brash facade, the former New York Red Bulls, RB Salzburg and RB Leipzig manager was said to be an empathic, nuanced, intelligent character very much liked by backroom staff at Elland Road and increasingly distraught at the team’s failure to implement his gameplans. “We keep finding ways to lose,” he said recently. “I blame myself for failing to press the right tactical buttons with the players.”
Albeit in a different context, pressing proved a big part of his problem. Leeds won promotion to the top tier and enjoyed a ninth-placed Premier League finish deploying the intense, high-energy, counter-pressing game devised by Bielsa, but by the time the American replaced the Argentinian the team were in a relegation skirmish and looked burned out.
Victor Orta, the director of football, accepted Bielsa’s time was up but remained addicted to his aggressive brand of football and appointed Marsch on the basis he had enjoyed success in
Austria, if not Germany, with a broadly similar approach. Much as Leeds often remained exhilarating to watch they never appeared in control of games and always looked liable to concede soft goals.
Another problem was that the new man hated Bielsa’s autocratic managerial style. Marsch immediately allowed players to have their say in tactical debate, but said recently a couple struggled to use such freedom responsibly, while others took time to adapt to such cultural change.
Then there were the injury problems that sidelined the striker Patrick Bamford, who had scored 17 top-flight goals in their first season back in the Premier League. Last summer’s sale of the outstanding Raphinha and Kalvin Phillips, to Barcelona and Manchester City respectively, hardly helped.
Orta, who is understood to have long fought hard to keep him, had helped secure some potentially transformative January signings in the £35m France Under-21 forward Georginio Rutter, the £10m Austria defender Max Wöber and the Juventus loanee midfielder Weston McKennie. The decision not to give Marsch time to continue working with them – or indeed the promising individuals such as Tyler Adams and Willy Gnonto included in last summer’s mixed bag of buys – reflects not merely the possibly ruinous cost of relegation but the reality that it could jeopardise the full takeover by the San Francisco-based 49er Enterprises, which owns 44% of the shares.
It is no exaggeration to say the club’s future hinges on the new manager’s ability to recalibrate a side perhaps ill-suited to the pressing philosophy beloved by Orta.
in the windows as they were very curious to watch the training. They say he was so kind. He never shouted at the kids, even when they were annoying and interfering with his training. There’s terrible grief when wonderful people like him are taken away by this war.”
Diana still sounds hopeful even as the killing grinds on. “I want to express my deepest gratitude to every person in the world who supports us. Not even with weapons or money, but just with your feelings and your words. It makes me believe my kids will return home soon.”
Usyk, being a fighter at his very core, is more pragmatic and forceful: “The world, it seems to me, is afraid of giving us the support we need. Ukraine is now a fence that holds back an incredible number of cannibals who want to seize half the world for themselves. Ukraine is the fence holding back Russia.”
He raises his fist when I ask him how best the world can support
Ukraine. “Give us tanks, give us arms, and contemplate victory.”
Usyk sounds as calm as he is certain of victory – against Russia and Fury. He turns to look behind him. “This flag was given to me by my friend and colleague when I was serving in the Ukraine border service. It is signed by the guys who are defending our country in Bakhmut. They gave me this flag and it is with me always. It gives me strength.”
Ukraine’s president, Volodymyr Zelenskiy, recently said of the military effort in Bakhmut: “Last year, 70,000 people lived there. Now only a few civilians are left. There is no place that is not covered with blood. There is no hour when the terrible roar of artillery does not sound. Still, Bakhmut stands.”
A few days after we spoke, two emails arrive from Ukraine. There are updates from Usyk and the Savenok family, who attach a photograph of a beautiful butterfly in their bombed apartment. The butterfly rests on the hand of Diana’s youngest daughter. It reminds me of Usyk’s T-shirt of Ali, the world heavyweight champion who, during great political adversity, could float like a butterfly and sting like a bee.
The words below the photograph are written in simple but moving English: “The butterfly was in our apartment burned by Russian shells. We don’t know how he ended up there. But we know that this is definitely a sign that life will win.”
Donations to UNITED24 and Oleksandr Usyk’s fundraiser to Rebuild Ukraine can be made at https:// donorbox.org/hb_usyk