Ken Jones: Venables and supporters kept in dark over Leeds' farcical situation

If there was a prize for running a football club to the utter confusion of its supporters, you would not look beyond Leeds United. It isn't a football club, it's a market, a showroom. To get right into the crazy swing of things, how about a name change? From Elland Road to Oxford Street. Try Petticoat Lane. You want a defender, midfielder, attacker? Call Leeds. Bargain prices.

For anyone who has been living in a cave without the benefit of news delivery, here's the story so far.

Seduced by the riches of the Champions' League and a series of top four finishes in the Premiership, it's spend, spend and spend some more. The future looks bright until charges relating to an assault are brought against three players, including the England internationals Lee Bowyer and Jonathan Woodgate. Top of the league in December 2000, Leeds go into free fall. No Champions' League money. Just mounting debts.

Not long after the departure of David O'Leary, I had lunch in London with Terry Venables, George Graham and a mutual friend, Brian James, who was big in sportswriting before moving on to higher things. We were talking about this and that, mainly rummaging through past times, when Venables asked Graham what he felt, or possibly knew, about the Leeds situation. Graham chuckled. That morning Graham had come across a newspaper item suggesting that Venables would be sure to contact him if the Leeds job came up. "I was thinking that if we're seen together someone will put two and two together and make six," he said.

Anyway, Venables sought Graham's opinion of the structure at Leeds, who held the power, the quality of the playing staff, what could be quickly put right, what couldn't. Like James, I was intrigued. "Have they approached you?" I asked. "No," Venables replied, emphatically. "If they do, be very careful," I said. "It doesn't sound right to me." A few days later, I learned that Peter Ridsdale had contacted Venables, and was flying to meet with him in Spain. By then, Venables had shortened in the betting, although the tip from well-informed sources was the Celtic manager, Martin O'Neill.

When Venables was appointed, I felt, as I do now, that he, of all people, had been kidded into believing that the situation at Leeds was not as bad as the balance sheet suggested. In fact, it was worse. Even after the sale of Rio Ferdinand to Manchester United, and Robbie Keane to Tottenham, the club had debts in excess of £50m. Recently, they off-loaded Lee Bowyer to West Ham and only a last-minute hitch over wages prevented the transfer of Robbie Fowler to Manchester City. Newcastle United have admitted an interest in Woodgate. All this tallies with Ridsdale's announcement, barely a month after the start of this season, that a further six players would have to be sold when the transfer window opened.

Let's put this in a different context. Let us say that Manchester United had told Sir Alex Ferguson that he would have to part with any six players from Paul Scholes, Ryan Giggs, Gary Neville, Mikaël Silvestre, Wes Brown, Ole Gunnar Solksjaer and Nicky Butt. There is no point in even beginning to imagine Ferguson's reaction.

Of course, the circumstances are vastly different. However, there is nothing in the money-crazed history of the Premiership that remotely compares with recent events at Leeds. No manager has worked under greater restraints. No group of supporters have been given greater cause for complaint.

It's just too bad we can't get to the bottom of all this. Whose mistakes were responsible for the predicament in which Leeds find themselves? Not Venables, that's for sure. You see, it could have been a lot worse. When it looked as though Leeds were heading for the Premiership basement his most persistent critic spitefully wrote: "We all know Terry Venables isn't much of a coach..." It was answered by a string of results – not that stylishly achieved, it has to be said – that have put Leeds within nine points of securing Premiership status.

If Venables gets the job done, a pretty safe bet, he should strike a deal and say: "Right, I'm out of here." But why should he listen to me? He didn't listen in the first place.