For Leeds United fans of a certain age, the 1980s are the Dark Ages, the decade between the collapse of the club that Don Revie built and the rebirth engineered by Howard Wilkinson.

The 80s were grim and grey days – the miners and community spirits were crushed by Margaret Thatcher, mirroring the fate of Leeds United. The accepted order fell apart and true fans wept as the boot boys and fascists peddled their hatred around Elland Road.

That was before Wilkinson, a dour knight in shining armour who led the club back to the Promised Land and a completely unexpected league title. And oh, how we partied when Wilko delivered the Holy Grail!

Leeds United were once again for a brief spell the best team in the country until Wilkinson lost first his way and then his job. Success came too early and too quickly for Wilkinson's good and when the Caspian Group bought the club in 1996 they had eyes only for the supposed charisma of George Graham.

Charisma wasn't what we got that first year – what we had was barren fare, everything Graham was famous before prior to his 'bung' scandal, except it wasn't '1-0 to the Arsenal' it was '0-0 to Leeds'.

When Graham high-tailed it back to London, assistant manager David O'Leary succeeded him and built a brand new and very exciting team.

This is the tale of how Revie's Paradise was lost, how Leeds collapsed into the Second Division, almost made it to the FA Cup final and promotion in 1987 before Billy Bremner was sacked and replaced by Wilkinson. These are the years when the First Division gave way to the Premiership, when money and television changed everything and football became a business rather than the People's Game.

This book covers the period from 1980 to 2000, when Leeds crashed and burned before rising from the ashes to become the last English champions.

8 September 1979.

Kev had just missed his first Leeds United game in five years. The football played by Jimmy Adamson's side was so God-awful dull that Kev had almost given up on the club.

The 7-0 thrashing they suffered earlier in the week at Arsenal might have been the nadir, but Kev had been losing heart for months. Tony Currie's defection in the summer was the final straw.

Kev didn't have the money to travel to Nottingham that afternoon to see Leeds play Forest as well as going to Queens Hall, the music venue that had begun life as Swinegate Tram Depot and was staging the first Futurama Festival that evening. The thought of taking in Public Image Limited, Joy Division and 15 other acts appealed more than watching the shapeless football played by Kevin Hird, Alan Curtis and Ray Hankin. The choice was a no contest; the football was futile, the music massive.

The 26,914 people who watched a dull as dishwater goalless draw at the City Ground would have understood.

Kev had a high old evening, seeing Ian Curtis and Johnny (Rotten) Lydon up close and personal. He wandered home in the wee small hours dripping with sweat, having danced himself to death. 'What a f***ing night!'

He rushed out to buy the New Musical Express the following Thursday to read a review of the gig. He was struck by the headline - 'Set the controls for the squalor of Leeds.'

'Says it all,' thought Kev to himself.

Get a copy at Amberley Publishing or Amazon. Author signed copies are available by e-mailing dave.tomlinson@gmail.com.

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