The manager’s entire career feels a rebuke to the idea that life is measured by trophies and his methods have ignited a region

A t teatime last Sunday came perhaps the broadcasting highlight of the festive period, a moment both dramatic and farcical that was soundtracked by a high‑pitched Ayrshire voice shouting the phrases “Big Wes!” and “His own net!” in various combinations, the delirious syntax conveying the sense of the moment far more eloquently than a finely turned sentence could ever have done. As Alan McInally screamed himself hoarse, Leeds fans went berserk, players celebrated and coaches cavorted, Marcelo Bielsa took a walk across his technical area in his big padded coat, seemingly no more moved by the injury-time own goal from Wes Harding that gave Leeds United a 5-4 win at Birmingham than by tins of tuna being down to 38p in the Wetherby Morrisons.

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