I will never forget the symphony of car horns that filled the air that night. Sitting in the Leicester Mercury office, the anticipation was palpable as we awaited the final whistle from Stamford Bridge, 100 miles away, marking a momentous occasion on a Monday night just shy of 10 PM.
As soon as that whistle blew, the city erupted. It began with a few car horns, soon swelling into a chorus of hundreds. This raucous celebration spilled into the streets as people poured from their homes, jumped into their cars, and joined a jubilant parade across the city. The echo of that celebration lingered well into the early hours.
It was a fitting tribute to a club that had defied all odds, a humble, industrious team from the heart of the Midlands, crowned as the kings of English football.
Fast forward a decade, and the mood couldn’t be more different. After a 2-2 draw with Hull on Tuesday confirmed our third relegation in just four seasons, what should have been a time to reminisce with joy has turned into a stark reminder of our decline. It’s a painful reflection on what has been lost, how far we’ve tumbled, and the depths we might still reach. The nadir, it seems, could still be ahead.
Despite having the seventh-highest wage bill in the Premier League in 2023, we now find ourselves relegated with the highest wage bill in Championship history. The financial hemorrhaging has been so severe that a six-point deduction was imposed—though it might not even affect the final outcome.
Patson Daka reacts in the 2-2 draw against Hull that confirmed Leicester’s drop to League One
This has been coming for the Foxes – and they only have themselves to blame
The losses extend beyond just money and league standings. This is the sad reality when clubs lose sight of their identity and the essence that once made them great. When they cease to reflect the community they’re part of and stray from being the diligent, humble club they once were.
When they start paying Champions League wages but don’t have Champions League players. When they stop selling a star every summer because they think they don’t need to be that kind of club anymore. When they sack managers too late but have no plan to replace them once they do.
When failure is rewarded. When there’s no responsibility or accountability. When concerned fans can see what’s happening with their own eyes but are gaslit into being told there’s nothing to worry about.
‘Stop writing headlines like that which you know makes fans pile on with negativity,’ tweeted James Maddison after a defeat to Southampton in March 2023. ‘Play like that and we’ll be absolutely fine.’ They weren’t fine.
‘If you think Leicester can be in League One, then you have lost your mind,’ said on-loan midfielder Jordan James earlier this season. Consider those minds lost.
Such blind arrogance, whatever company you work for, always filters down from the top. No one can wash their hands of this. Not the players, not manager Gary Rowett. Not Ruud van Nistelrooy nor Marti Cifuentes before him. Certainly not Brendan Rodgers, under whom this decline began, and definitely not chief football officer Jon Rudkin, who has overseen a club being run into the ground but has come out of it with a promotion.
No one will ever understand the painful burden that fell on Leicester owner Aiyawatt ‘Top’ Srivaddhanaprabha’s shoulders after the tragic passing of his father Vichai and the pressure to continue his great legacy but that also doesn’t absolve him of the mistakes he continues to make. The club is in a worse position than when his father took over and that’s on him. It is the responsibility of an owner to do what’s best for the football club.
No one can wash their hands of this failure. Not the players, not manager Gary Rowett (pictured)
It’s all such a far cry from when a modest, hard-working Leicester City side shocked the world by winning the Premier League in 2016
Friends always say: ‘Oh, but you’d take it, wouldn’t you?’, referencing the highs of the last decade. As if that makes this moment more tolerable. As if that makes this moment more understandable.
Only it should never have to be a choice. This was all completely avoidable. You wouldn’t tell the lottery winner who squandered his millions on dodgy investments to remember the highs when he’s back working night shifts.
Years of being the best-run club in the country got us to a position where Leicester should never have had to look back. They had it all but blew it by becoming one of the worst. They only have themselves to blame.
