The late seventies was a funny old time to start supporting Leeds. Revie and Clough had departed, Jimmy Armfield made way for Jock Stein...then we ended up with Jimmy Adamson.

Now although Adamson's name, to many Leeds fans, is synonymous, with starting the decline which would envelope the club for the following decade, it would be easy to forget that, at the end of his first season in charge, 1978-79, we actually qualified for Europe.

Taking what was largely Armfield's team, Adamson led us through a sixteen match unbeaten run of league results, through November to March, to finish a creditable fifth at the end of the campaign.

However, for me (and I'm sure most other Leeds fans of that period) one figure stands head and shoulders above the rest, both in terms of footballing skill and solid gold entertainment value: Tony Currie.

Currie was the complete footballer of his generation. Often accused of being lazy, in reality he had skill, stamina and pace in abundance. The trouble was that he made the game look just too easy.

One moment sums up for me his genius. On a chilly November afternoon in 1978, standing on the old Kop, I watched in disbelief as he dispossessed one of the Southampton midfielders and sauntered towards goal. Faced with the barrier of a retreating Chris Nicholl, the Saints' centre-half, and their well positioned goalkeeper, Terry Gennoe, Currie decided there was only one option: to let fly with the most delicious viciously swerving shot you could ever wish to see. Of course, it nestled sweetly into the top left hand corner of the goal and Leeds went on to win 4-0.

Days didn't get much better than that...and footballers didn't get much better than Tony Currie.