A giant “Forever Fearless” banner was passed around the King Power Stadium, the word Forever having been added to the official one‑word motto that Leicester adopted throughout their title-winning campaign. After last week’s decision to fire the man who led that incredible charge, the Foxes could also have proclaimed that they are now indisputably ruthless, too. And shameless.
The death of romance? Not according to the club vice-chairman, Aiyawatt Srivaddhanaprabha, who used his programme notes for the first match since the ousting of dear Claudio Ranieri to suggest that it was a sacrifice driven by a sentiment even more noble than admiration for a gentleman – the love of a club.
The Thais, in fairness, have been exceptionally benevolent owners during their seven years at Leicester. All the same, jilting Ranieri was viewed by some as the act of people who rank money above other values, so many will have considered the soppy sentiments in the programme to have been laden with about as much sincerity as José Mourinho’s stunt with the CR-initialled tracksuit top.
To the 300 or so Leicester fans who paraded through the city centre in Ranieri masks before kick-off, and the driver of a hearse (bookmaker-sponsored, of course) whose window featured a wreath that read RIP Football, all the club’s rulers had done was promote Ranieri from former manager to martyr.
Truth be told, in that respect the owners did the Italian an unwitting favour, as he is now sure to be remembered as the man denied a chance to rescue his miraculous champions from relegation rather than the manager who led his men up a seemingly unscalable mountain and then onward to a ruinous fall. Because despite repeated suggestions by Ranieri in recent months that his team had reached a turning point, Leicester’s momentum remained resolutely downward. If any manager deserved an opportunity to arrest a seemingly unstoppable decline, it was the manager who presided over a seemingly impossible triumph – but only if the players still believed in that manager. Doubt has reigned at the King Power Stadium this season.
Srivaddhanaprabha, keen to head off any protest within the stadium, used the programme to claim that no player had revolted against Ranieri. “[Sacking Ranieri] was our decision alone,” he wrote. “It is unfair that our players, who supported Claudio fiercely, are being accused of disloyalty.” That phrase “supported Claudio fiercely” inadvertently caused the mind to wander back to an observation made by the former France manager Raymond Domenech, who said that when he faced criticism, the head of the French federation “supported me like the rope supports a condemned man”.
Still, even if it were true that Leicester players expressed disagreement with the way Ranieri was running their title defence, is that so bad? It is a dumb strain of conservatism indeed that demands workers blindly follow their leader. Consultation in the workplace is usually a sign of enlightened rule and generates an empowering sense of shared responsibility. A workforce that feels its feedback is ignored can become less productive. Or play like oafs.
That was the key point before the visit of Liverpool, and for the rest of the season. Last week’s decision not only banished Ranieri, it also removed an excuse. No longer can Leicester’s rancid performances be blamed on the manager’s dispiriting team selection or confusing tactics. Craig Shakespeare, on caretaker duty for the visit of Liverpool, said he felt “like a pantomime villain” when he faced the media in the aftermath of Ranieri’s dismissal but to most of Leicester’s players he is closer to being a surrogate father than a wicked step-parent.
Shakespeare had not merely been an assistant to Ranieri but also, more pertinently, he had been the deputy to Nigel Pearson, to whom he and many of the players remain close. If Ranieri had become estranged or just strange to some players, Shakespeare remained in tune with their thinking. The task here was for Leicester to supply evidence of renewed cohesion on the pitch.
Shakespeare’s team selection was telling. There was no trace of Ahmed Musa, the summer recruit whose contribution to the campaign so far had been apparent only to Ranieri. And Shinji Okazaki returned.
Last season the Japanese’s selfless dynamism often set the tone for the team, and his demotion to substitute for most of this season became harder to justify as Leicester slipped from disjointed to utterly dispiriting.
So only one personnel change; the transformation was in the team’s attitude. Suddenly they were united again. Here from the first minute was the intensity of last season, and the sense of purpose. It was as if a switch had been flicked to transport onlookers back to last season, as player after player recaptured the form that had eluded them for most of this term.
Jamie Vardy, a sorry phantom in recent Premier League matches, chased balls as if his life depended on it and in the 28th minute rattled in the opening goal after racing on to a pass by Marc Albrighton. By the time Danny Drinkwater doubled the lead by blasting in his first goal of this season, Leicester looked a team reborn. Where have this lot been for most of this season? Why did Ranieri’s dream have to die before the players woke up?
Leicester fans stood in unison in the 65th minute, soon after Vardy’s second, and shone torches to profess their undimmed gratitude to Ranieri. The players’ performance seemed like a pledge of support for his replacement.
