The Triumph of the True Underdog
In 2012 a project initiated by Philippa Langley and enacted by archaeologists from the University of Leicester managed to re-discover the remains of one of England’s more notorious medieval monarchs, thought lost for the last 500 years after the battle of Bosworth Field in Leicestershire. In March 2015, the City Council had the skeletal remains ceremoniously reburied in the Leicester Cathedral.
If the crabby ol’ King were around today (whether the real one or the Bard’s famous literary figure), he would most probably just throw his crown down in disgust at the vile show of rebellion by the football team that represents the city he lost his life in.
For there is nothing privileged about Leicester - in 132 years of playing domestic football, they have come close to actually winning the First Division only twice, way back in 1929 and again during an especially cold 1962-63 season. Their fans claim no birthright to any trophy (other than perhaps the Championship) - they have perennially been one amongst the collection of clubs that are always considered as “too good for the second division, not good enough for the first.”
For them, merely surviving the drop would have been a remarkable achievement this season, especially considering the unprecedented run that took them from rock bottom to safety during last season. The abrupt sacking of the manager responsible for this (Nigel Pearson) and the surprise replacement with Claudio Ranieri was treated with derision by the watching world and with a healthy dose of pessimism by fans who are too used to seeing their club lose their way in the top division.
What happened over the ten grueling, glorious, months then was as unexpected as it was unbelievable. No team in living memory had ever fought such odds, overcome so much, and come out on top.
Yet, they did it.
It was a triumph as much of the individuals as of the team. As much as the team itself was an underdog, so were the individual personalities within. These were no collection of washed up galacticos playing to claim what they thought was rightfully theirs. These were men who had dredged around in the lower reaches of the game for most of their careers, knowing fully well that they were never going to make it into a team that would even have the remotest chance of winning the league.Yet, they believed in themselves, and pushed the barriers of what is actually possible in today’s sporting world.
People had told N’Golo Kante and Riyad Mahrez that they were too frail and slight to play in the top echelons. The former was the most intimidating presence in the world’s most relentlessly physical league, the latter, it’s Player of the Year. Jamie Vardy went from working in a carbon-fibre splint factory to support his non-league football career to scoring in 11 consecutive Premier League matches, breaking a record held by the great Ruud Van Nistelrooy.
Wes Morgan, the team’s captain, used to be serenaded with “You’ll never beat Wes Morgan” by fans (for 10 years that meant second division's Nottingham forest) more out of affection for his spirit than as any real paean to his feats on the field. This season, he is in the PFA team of the year.
They had no right to do this. And yet they did it, inspired by a coach who was thought of as washed up and senile.
Yes, Mr. Linekar. Really.
Hope
Sure, the others - the traditional elite - have been poor but you don’t go from near-relegation one season to winning the most watched football league on the planet just because other teams in the league haven’t played to their potential! It wasn’t just momentum, or pure dumb luck, either – you don’t win 22 matches in 36 and garner 77 points just with that. Nor was it their reliance on the most primitive of tactics (4-4-2, kick it long to the striker at the first opportunity, shut down shop when up 1-0) – others have tried it before but have been far less successful.
Analysts and football writers will pore over the footage, conduct research on on-field tactics, off-field medical practices (they were the fittest team in the league, and suffered no major injuries; surely by design rather than accident) and motivational methods, and try and explain how in blue hell this happened. In the end, though, most are likely to scratch their heads, sit back and with a wistful smile put it down to something a certain Sir Alex Ferguson once said - “Football, Bloody Hell!”
Let us not leave the last word to the architect of modern English football’s greatest monarchy. Instead let us heed the words of the ever-genial Claudio Ranieri – “Dilly Ding, Dilly Dong, Wake up, Wake up”
Listen up World – Wake Up and savour the Hope that Leicester City Football Club have brought to our doorsteps, a genuinely memorable reminder that success is not the birthright of just a privileged few, that wealth can be beaten by passion, hard work, and discipline, and that if you were to simply believe in yourselves, you can achieve anything.
“Dilly Ding, Dilly Dong”
