Meet the new boss, same as the old boss?
It was, even by his standards, a remarkable outburst.
When Ken Bates took to the airwaves at Yorkshire Radio last week, most Leeds United fans listening in would have been expecting an account of how and why Bates had just become the club's new owner.
What they got was a tirade about international enemies in the media, troublemakers in Parliament, stirrers in positions of authority in football and double-agents lurking within Elland Road.
There was some sugar in this bitter brew, though. Bates confirmed work had started on new toilets in the West Stand - "very significant for those who want them there". Well, even Radio Moscow used to finish on an upbeat note about tractor production.
So what provoked Bates' ire? Who are these troublesome agitators? And didn't Bates already own United?
To answer those questions we will need to enter the sports news vaults but, in the interest of brevity, I am going to start in January 2005 when Bates completed his first purchase of Leeds United.
Leeds won their final match of the season against QPR and finished seventh in the Championship. Photo: Getty Images
The 2001 Champions League semi-finalists were grimly surviving in the Championship, still nursing a hangover from Peter Ridsdale's "living the dream" tenure and without much family silver left to sell. The Gerald Krasner-led board was almost as exhausted as the team and the club was ripe for plucking. Bates was the plucker.
The man who sold Chelsea to Roman Abramovich for a reported £17m in 2003, paid a reported £10m for a 50% stake at Elland Road via his Cayman Islands-registered company Forward Sports Fund (FSF).
United's fortunes on the field picked up and they went into the 2006 play-offs as favourites. A return to their rightful station was in sight. And then they lost 3-0 to Watford.
What followed was a summer of shenanigans as the taxman threatened to pull the plug while suitors hovered at the end of the sickbed, mindful that a United absolved from debt could be a healthy proposition. Pity about the creditors, mind.
One of those creditors, however, was not too upset as it announced it would forget the £17.6m United owed - half of the club's total debts - if, and only if, the administrators accepted the bid from former owners FSF, with Bates back as chairman.
That creditor was a British Virgin Islands-registered firm called Astor Investment Holdings and it had, we were assured, no connection to Bates or FSF, who had no link with each other.
When asked during a 2009 libel trial why Astor would place such a condition on writing off this sum, Bates could only "presume" it was because Astor wanted to loan United more money. After all, those first loans had gone so well.
Anyway, Bates was back. Two more painful years passed for the faithful - with two more play-off disappointments - before Jermaine Beckford's goals and Simon Grayson's leadership finally got United back to where Bates found them, the Championship.
Much had changed, though, in five years: football's Wild West era was over and, post-Pompey, the authorities were far less tolerant of opaque ownership structures.
So when it became clear last summer that the Premier League was pushing the Football League to match its new-found zeal for accountability and transparency, there was only one "ownership statement" out of the 72 anybody wanted to read.
And when it came, 48 hours before the rules changed, it was a beauty. Leeds United FC was owned by Leeds City Holdings (LCH), which was majority-owned by FSF, which was owned by three "discretionary trust funds", which were legally owned and managed by Chateau Fiduciaire (CF), a Swiss-based "trustee". Still with me?
The beneficiaries of these funds were anonymous and could "only be identified by the potential nature of any benefit". We were assured, however, that no potential beneficiary or their immediate family had the rights to more than 10% of FSF's shares in LCH.
To actually know this, though, we would have to see the trust documents. Fat chance.
To complete the conundrum, the whole vehicle was steered by two management shares, issued by CF, to Patrick Murrin, a long-time business partner of Bates, and Patrick Boatman, a "client manager" at CF, on behalf of Bates.
So, just to recap, Leeds United were owned by three off-shore trusts (constructed to keep their shareholders anonymous) and controlled by a faceless company whose raison d'etre was to preserve anonymity for its clients. But Bates was in charge.
Bates has not revealed details of how he became the controlling shareholder of Leeds United. Photo: Getty
She wasn't the only one.
While this exercise in obfuscation might have satisfied the Football League, the Premier League was unimpressed and signalled its intent to take a different view of the ownership mystery should the club ever fall under its auspices again.
With the season now over we know this reunion has been postponed but the PL has other ways of acting beyond the Pale, namely the threat to withhold "trickledown" payments from its TV deals.
But Bates was also taking flak from a House of Commons XI - otherwise known as the Culture, Media and Sport Select Committee - and the persistent questioning of a few dogged journalists led by The Guardian's David Conn.
Much to Bates' disgust, these malcontents seemed to be aided by sections of the Elland Road crowd, in particular the Leeds United Supporters Club and the positively treacherous Yorkshire Division of the Football Supporters' Federation. Splitters!
Dairy farmer, tax exile, fencing expert...say what you like about Bates, and many have, but underestimate his capacity to surprise at your peril.
Faced with mounting demands to reveal who really owned Leeds United, the 79-year-old answered: I do.
The way he told it to Yorkshire Radio, Bates did this to spare the sensitivities of those poor public servants in Geneva - "they were getting a bit fed up because all they do is run trusts, they don't get involved with politics or anything" - and it was all resolved in a matter of weeks.
"It neatly solves the problem and it leaves the trouble-makers with something else to think about, (especially) David Conn, our international enemy in the media, who's been told to go forth and multiply," he explained.
How much he paid, how he financed the deal, who received the payment (those mysterious beneficiaries of the discretionary trusts) and many, many more questions went unasked, probably because they would not have been answered. Outro Ltd, the club's new holding company, is based in Nevis, another Caribbean island long on beaches but short on banking regulations.
Does any of this matter, though?
As United fans reflect on just falling short of the play-offs, I suppose there will be many who just don't care about tax avoidance tactics or the authorities' efforts to avoid "another Pompey". And that is fine.
But what if the Premier League really did withhold TV money? What if it blocked United's promotion?
How about if Uefa, unable to clarify that United's owners had no influence over any other clubs, refused to let United play in Europe?
What if the club became the subject of an anti-corruption investigation due to fears over conflicts of interest or suspicious betting patterns?
And is it really so onerous a burden to expect owners of a much-loved community asset, such as your football club, to put their names above the door? Aren't they proud of the fact and if not why not?