Leeds United moments of 2020 – Luke Ayling’s Elland Road thunderbolt was football as we know and love it

Football stopped when Luke Ayling’s ridiculous volley crashed into Huddersfield Town’s net.

In my head, that’s the last time I remember football, real football, football without a dark cloud.

A semblance of the sport continued, a likeable enough imposter and Leeds United marched on, emerging from our first-ever experience of lockdown to finish the job of earning a return to the promised land, but football had long since stopped.

Sign up to our Leeds United newsletter The i newsletter cut through the noise

Don’t get me wrong, Pablo Hernandez’s goal at Swansea, the satisfying sight of boyish glee on the oft-stern face of Marcelo Bielsa as he lifted the Championship trophy and Leeds’s noisy entrance to the Premier League have all been a privilege to behold in the flesh.

But the last time football meant what it has always meant, to me, was that goal at Elland Road on March 7 2020.

Mateusz Klich’s backheel, Hernandez’s pass to invite Jack Harrison into space, his patience as Ayling moved into position, his perfect cross and then the noise.

Volleys are the best kind of finish. On the full, preferably, high into the net, ideally and, if at all possible, in off the crossbar please.

Ayling’s was everything you could possibly hope for and hit at a ludicrous height.

Hit at a ludicrous height, with textbook technique by a right-back.

This was a Marco van Basten, Thierry Henry, Tony Yeboah worthy finish, by a former Yeovil Town defender.

The roar that greets a goal that good cuts a little different to the one that follows a second goal in a game, or a goal scored in a more routine fashion.

For those, it’s a loud, approving, satisfied, elongated ‘yes.’

The noise Ayling inspired had notes of disbelief amid a din of pure joy. A brief murmur of expectation as your brain put together the pieces. That cross is good, Ayling might reach it, Ayling will reach it, he’s going to hit it. Then the split-second dip in noise before a sudden, violent crescendo, a collective release of astonishment.

A happy hubbub reverberated around the stadium long after the ball had hit the net, as players celebrated and fans struggled to articulate their response to those around them. A feeling impossible to immediately articulate. The looks on faces saying enough.

It’s not just the noise, though, it’s the movement. The crashing waves of bodies leaping up and down, out of sync with one another but in unison all the same. The limbs. The hugs. Arms raised heavenward.

Football as God intended. Football as Bielsa invented.

That was the last time football felt like it should, to me. Moments like those, experienced alongside thousands of others, are unforgettable.

Patrick Bamford scored a goal to make the game safe but I had to check the video to remind myself how he did it. Don’t ask me what else happened in the 90 minutes.

Leeds have won bigger games and scored more important goals since then. They’ve played against far better teams and bigger clubs on a bigger stage. But they haven’t played real football since then.

It was my footballing highlight of 2020.