My Leeds United - Late-night love affair with Jack Harrison, side before sleep every time

Miles Godfrey is a British-born journalist working in Australia.

“I have a confession to make – I’ve been having a late-night love affair with Jack Harrison.

I meet with Marcelo Bielsa in the dead of night too. Each week my heart grows more giddy.

Pablo joins us, Bamford, Ben White and the boys.

It’s dark, cosy and nearly always nerve-wracking.

Sometimes Shackleton even puts in a late appearance.

Being a Leeds fan in Australia means watching games late at night or very early in the morning.

I managed to watch every game this season, until the virus brought everything to a screeching halt. I know Leeds fans across Australia do the same. Side before sleep, every time.

I creep out of bed around 2am, trying not to wake my wife and young lad, tiptoe to the lounge and flick the TV on.

My headphones are in, edge of the sofa, enthralled.

As light from the telly flickers and dances in the dark, there I am, pumping my fists, stifling my shouts of delight, trying not to jump off my seat, trying not to wake the house.

When Ayling’s bazooka hit the back of the net against Huddersfield I had to put my hands over my mouth to stop myself shouting in delight.

Limbs in the Kop as Ayling unfurled the man bun. I’m trying not to laugh.

This is my Leeds United.

I’ve been a fan since 1992. I grew up in the UK but moved to Australia 11 years ago.

I have no link with Leeds. I’m actually a southerner.

But the Division One title did it for me. Sure, call me a glory hunter.

Later, Yeboah became my idol. The twin exocets against Wimbledon and Liverpool, fists clenched as he wheels away.

Batty’s grit, big Viduka, Hasselbaink, The Chief.

I was at university when O’Leary took us to the Champions League semi.

Everybody wanted to talk about them.

The dark days that followed have now been replaced by just watching Leeds in the dark.

Of course that’s not always the case.

I was lucky enough to watch Leeds’ pre-season game against Western Sydney Wanderers last July.

My wife Angela is a Wanderers fan and we took our son Gabriel, then aged one, to his first game. All of us were decked out in Leeds tops.

Despite the raucous noise from thousands of Leeds fans, Gabriel fell asleep on Angela’s shoulder towards the end of the game.

It appeared destined for a 1-1 draw when Pablo struck his glorious late winner - the type of goal only he can score.

Collecting the ball outside the box, he beat four players, shimmying, sashaying, Pablo-ing, before smashing the ball into the net. Bloody hell.

Gabriel, wakes up with the noise of the celebrations and inexplicably manages to gurgle “goal!” - a word we’d been trying to teach him for months. My boy.

I smile to myself as I quietly hope he falls in love with this crazy club too.

He’s certainly already taking after his old man – waking up at exactly the right time to watch the Whites at their very best.