Confusion still lingers over when the Old Peacock became 'old'. For many years only one Peacock is recorded in directories, but by 1842 there was also a 'New Peacock' further down Elland Road. To distinguish the two, the original house eventually took on the name by which it has been fondly known for nearly two centuries. Its early landlords included characters who often combined the trade of innkeeping with cattle dealing, and its location shifted in the records from Beeston to Islington and later to Holbeck, reflecting how the city boundaries blurred as the area grew with pits, works, terraces and eventually sporting grounds.

The pub's name itself has fuelled debate. Some suggest it was linked to the nearby Peacock Pit colliery, though the pub appears in records before the pit does, making it just as likely that the mine borrowed its name from the pub, or from a local family called Peacock, a common Leeds surname at the time. Whatever the truth, the name proved enduring, and in time it came to symbolise something much bigger than anyone in 1826 could have imagined.

That transformation began in 1878 when Bentley's Brewery, owners of the Old Peacock, developed the land across the road into the Old Peacock Ground. First a rugby pitch, it soon became home to Leeds City Football Club in 1904, and then, following City's demise, to Leeds United in 1919. From that moment on, the fortunes of the pub and the football club were intertwined. Supporters spilled out of Elland Road and into the bar, making the Old Peacock the unofficial headquarters of Leeds United fandom. Matchdays became rituals, and no trip to Elland Road felt complete without stepping through its doors.

By the middle of the 20th century the Old Peacock was a hub of pre-match life, remembered not only for its beer and camaraderie but also for quirks that belonged only to this corner of Leeds. Fans climbed onto its roof or the trees in its beer garden for a view of the pitch. Children played vast football matches in the garden while their parents drank. And, most curiously, every Saturday a plate of tripe would be laid out on the bar, provided by nearby works and served with vinegar, free to any drinker with the stomach for it.

In 1963 the pub itself was rebuilt. The original tall, imposing building that had stood proudly close to Elland Road was demolished, replaced with the modern structure that still stands today, set further back to allow space for the car park. Many mourned the loss of the old house, with its grandeur and atmosphere, yet the new building was better suited to the growing crowds that Don Revie's Leeds would soon attract. The beer garden remained, long one of the largest in Leeds, a place where fans continued to gather, argue about football and sing songs of victory or despair.

Through the decades the Old Peacock never lost its pull. It was a Bentley's house until Whitbread took over in 1968, and it remained a haunt not just for fans but for Leeds United players and staff, who would often head across the road for a pint after training, right up until the club moved to Thorp Arch in the 1990s. On matchdays the pub was - and still is - rammed to bursting point, its bar six, seven, even nine deep, while the car park outside thrived with traders, food vans, and programme stalls, and occasionally became a flashpoint when home and away fans crossed paths.

But the Old Peacock's story has not been without struggle. In 2007, with Leeds United in freefall, the pub's lease went up for sale. At that moment the Leeds United Supporters' Club, long in search of a permanent base, stepped in. With £90,000 scraped together from membership subscriptions, they bravely took on the Old Peacock. For nearly five years, it was their headquarters as well as their pub, hosting meetings and keeping the doors open during one of the club's darkest periods. Eventually the financial burden proved too great, and in 2012 LUSC reluctantly handed back the keys. Many feared the pub might close for good, but Greene King reopened it, and soon after, in 2013, Ossett Brewery took over with a £300,000 investment, transforming the Old Peacock into a modern food and ale house while carefully preserving its soul.

Today. the Old Peacock thrives once more. Its beer garden buzzes, its screens beam out live sport, its bars serve a wide range of real ales, and, most importantly, its doors are flung open to thousands of Leeds United supporters on matchdays. It stands not just as a convenient pub opposite a stadium, but as a monument to the rituals of fandom, to the history of south Leeds, and to the bond between a city and its club.

Like the ravens at the Tower of London, its presence feels essential. Should the Old Peacock ever vanish, Leeds United itself would somehow feel less complete. For nearly two hundred years it has stood on Elland Road, a companion through triumph and turmoil alike, and for generations of Leeds fans it remains more than a place to drink - it is part of who they are.

And even in the present, the Old Peacock refuses to stand still. In January 2024 it hit the headlines when, as BBC News journalist Alex Moss reported, the pub temporarily reinvented itself as The Luke Ale Inn. The renaming honoured departing defender Luke Ayling, who had worn the white shirt with distinction for over seven years and captained Leeds more than eighty times. Fans embraced the tribute warmly, and Ayling himself posted online that he was 'honoured' and couldn’t wait to return for a pint. It was a light-hearted, heartfelt gesture that once again confirmed the pub’s status as the unofficial cathedral of Leeds United supporters.

But perhaps nothing has captured the imagination of recent years more than the launch of the Wilko92 campaign, a fan-driven project to raise funds for a statue of Howard Wilkinson — the last English manager to win the top division and the architect of Leeds United’s 1992 title triumph. The Athletic journalist Beren Cross described the scene: a warm summer evening in the Old Peacock’s side room, packed with supporters, ex-players like Gary McAllister and Tony Dorigo, and Wilkinson himself, characteristically modest and slightly embarrassed by the attention. Legendary sports artist Paul Trevillion electrified the crowd with his unveiling of a striking portrait, later auctioned to help raise the first tranche of funds.

The Athletic underlined why this matters: Don Revie and Billy Bremner have statues outside Elland Road, while John Charles, Norman Hunter and Jack Charlton have stands named after them. Yet Wilkinson, who not only brought silverware back to Leeds but also laid the foundations of Thorp Arch and the modern academy system that produced stars from Alan Smith to Kalvin Phillips, has no permanent recognition. The Wilko92 project, fronted by serial fundraiser Jim Cadman and lifelong fans Robert Endeacott and Dave Tomlinson, aims to change that. Their goal is to raise around £140,000 to fund a bronze tribute, working with British sculptor Peter Hodgkinson, and to unveil it by 2027 in tandem with Elland Road’s redevelopment.

Leeds Live captured Wilkinson’s humility perfectly: he insisted his career had been 'a job I never worked a day in my life' and reminded everyone that his achievements were built on teamwork, not individual glory. And yet, as Trevillion’s artwork was paraded around the room and McAllister recalled the glory of 1992, it was clear how deeply his legacy is woven into the story of Leeds United.

For the Old Peacock to be the birthplace of this campaign feels fitting. Just as it has stood watch over generations of supporters, it now plays host to the next great act of remembrance. As the Wilko92 campaign gathers momentum, every pint raised in its rooms brings the day closer when future fans will see Wilkinson cast in bronze outside Elland Road, and ask with wonder: 'Who was that man, and what did he do here?'

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