HE Premier League isn't the same without some Yorkshire grit. But, let's face it, Leeds United won't be back there anytime soon. Sheffield United are battling away in the Championship once more and, at the time of writing, Neil Warnock, their grumpy, grizzled but consistently charismatic former manager and self-styled Red Adair of football, was still looking for another post after publication of his excellent autobiography, Made in Sheffield.
He still lives in the city, although he concedes it would be easier to move. He also says he can't go back to Bramall Lane, but the truth is that he has returned to the club twice since United's relegation: once to say farewell to his staff and again to get the seamstress in the club shop to sew the zip back on to his tracksuit bottoms.
THERE is nothing like sport to get the heart racing, even from the comfort of your seat in the stand. And stress levels don't get much higher than in the cauldron of Old Trafford and rugby league's Super League Grand Final on October 13th. For supporters, that thumping in the chest is the equivalent of being chased by a lion, according to boffins at Leeds Metropolitan University, who wired up fans of aspiring finalists, Bradford Bulls and St Helens.
St Helens supporter Dean Houghton's heart rate peaked at 182 beats per minute – the same as if he was being chased by a lion – when his team scored. Richard Sears's heart hit 124 bpm when his Bradford team had a try disallowed, the same as seeing a caged animal at a zoo (presumably not a panda).
Worse still, Bradford coach Steve McNamara recorded a maximum 152 bpm - the same level of stress as having a tooth extracted. Dentists and lions - I never knew going to a match could be quite so dangerous.
'The results show that the body undergoes a whole host of stresses whilst watching a tense game,' said John O'Hara, senior lecturer in sport and exercise science at Leeds Met. 'The heart rates experienced by some of those watching are similar to those you'd expect of the players on the pitch. They show that fans as well as coaches kick every ball and feel every tackle.'
TALKING of tense, runaway lion moments - here's one involving rugby league's 110-year old Challenge Cup trophy, made by Fattorini & Sons of Bradford for £60 but now insured for £250,000.
I had the privilege of being seated next to 'Mr C C Cup', as printed on its airline ticket from Manchester to Perpignan, as it left its home in the strong room at Rugby Football League's Red Hall HQ in Leeds and headed off on a trip to mark Catalan Dragons reaching the final.
On the streets of Perpignan, everyone wanted to touch it, but an over-enthusiastic ice-cream vendor grabbed the distinctive silver angel on top and continued to tug. Cue a flurry of a slapped hands from the trophy's minders and mumbled Franglais that: 'Non monsieur, the lid doesn't come off.'
A FOOTBALLER eschewing money and just wanting to play for fun? Sounds too good to be true. But step forward Duncan Williams, 19, of Garforth Town FC, who has spurned the advances of Middlesbrough, Everton and Bolton.
'I want to become the first player in the Premier League who doesn't have a wage. I don't think it's right to get paid for doing something you love,' he says. A refreshing change in cynical times.