Watching an interview with Nigel Pearson, it is no surprise he has chosen Yorkshire as his adopted home, for the deep creases of his furrowed brow speak of a native Yorkshireman’s struggle to keep his emotions sensibly in check. 

In this particular interview, after a crucial 3-2 win, it was clear that the struggle was more difficult than usual. Nigel had just seen his much maligned striker score a dramatic winning goal, in glorious spring sunshine, to secure three points.

It was a goal which hearkened to safety from relegation, and sparked scenes of wild celebration for striker, manager and fans alike.  “Relief is the overwhelming feeling at this time.  At a number of points it looked like we were going to come out on the wrong side, so obviously I'm delighted.”

The date? May 2008.

Big Nige had been in charge of Southampton for a mere three months, but after a dismal February and March which saw his team fail to win any of his first six games, he had pulled off the great escape. 

A string of draws and three home wins – including against the team so cruelly relegated, Leicester City – had seen the Saints pull off the impossible and cling on to survival, after the Championship trapdoor had, briefly, swung open and revealed the chasm beneath.

Rewind to May 2005.

Nigel Pearson is once again in the dug-out for another crucial season finale, this time as Assistant Manager to Bryan Robson, at The Hawthorns.  The West Bromwich Albion side he had been working with since the previous November had just achieved the remarkable.  The historical.  The unprecedented.

Eight points adrift at Christmas, the Baggies’ first win didn’t come until the end of January.

They then spluttered and splurted through to spring, before winning their final three games – at home to Everton, Charlton and, finally and dramatically, Portsmouth – to complete what even the most curmudgeonly fan would acknowledge to be a contender for the greatest of great escapes.

Rewind to May 1999.

A moment of English footballing history which has become so iconic that the name of the hero involved has become a verb.

Kasper Schmeichel “did a Jimmy Glass” against Yeovil Town in March last year, but was denied the honour by a myopic official.  His dad, Peter, “did a Jimmy Glass” for United in the UEFA Cup back in 1995 and repeated the feat for Aston Villa in 2001 (although perhaps these were both merely examples of a half-Jimmy Glass, as neither United nor Villa won).

As we all know, a goalkeeper “does a Jimmy Glass” when he scores in the dying moments of a game, at a time when the faint-of-heart and the traffic-hating multitudes have left the stadium, and empty crisp packets flutter around like the last vestiges of hope.

The phrase was coined, of course, after Carlisle’s goalkeeper, as the eponymous Mr. Glass converted a corner in the final seconds of the final game of the season, to keep the Cumbrians in the Football League.

The manager in the dug-out that day was no other than the Midlands Houdini himself, Nigel Pearson.

Fast forward to May 2015?

The King Power Stadium.  Pearson’s Leicester side face a winner-takes-all game against QPR, a team they were promoted with last year. It is a blood-and-thunder, guts-and-glory humdinger of a fight for Premier League survival.

In the May sunshine, Graham Souness, Gary Neville, Jamie Carragher and another of Sky’s rent-a-hosts are perched in the upper echelons of Leicester’s cavernous ground and viewers are told countless times it is another epic “Survival Sunday” for the Premier League.

The manager in the Leicester City dug-out?  Improbably, and to the consternation of many throughout this season, Nigel Pearson.

Can the Midlands Houdini do it one more time?

This final scenario is, of course, entirely theoretical.

And yet, after another dramatic win at The Hawthorns last Saturday, you sense that the M-word is building behind Leicester this spring.  And you don’t need the foresight of Mystic Meg to predict that the final home game against the Rs could well decide our fate.

It is ironic that Nigel Pearson – a man who seems so no-nonsense that, if served a pie in his local, would treat salt and pepper as a needless frivolity – has presided over so many final days of drama.


It is almost as if a Higher Power is toying with a man whose every aspect of outer appearance suggests he would gladly secure survival with a 1-0 win in each of his first 10 games, every season.

It is also ironic that, despite wondering why Nige hadn’t been sacked for much of 2015, most Leicester fans will (if we have a chance on that final day) look at his fortune-littered CV and feel a small sliver of belief ahead of the final game.
 

Leicester City's Promotion-Winning XI

Leicester City had the slightly surreal experience on Saturday of securing promotion without even playing.

In the vain hope of allowing City's achievement to sink in, IBNWT has compared compiled its ultimate Leicester City Promotion XI.

The best players* from each of the last three Premier League promotion-winning sides (1996, 2003 and 2014) have been chosen to form a team that would melt the heart of the coldest of City fan.

* Please note this is entirely subjective, and any analysis that has taken place has barely risen above the level of a monkey-with-a-pin.

Still, it's a nice walk down Memory Lane - so enjoy.

GOALKEEPER: Kasper Schmeichel (2014) -

A tough call.

At the end of last season, if I had to choose between Tim Flowers and Kasper Schmeichel, it would have probably gone to the more accomplished Flowers.

Don't get me wrong, I love Kasper.  Love him like an endearing but slightly-too-keen best mate.  But his propensity to flap at crosses (a case in point being his star-fish jump at Troy Deeney on that day last May) has always been Kasper's Achilles' heel.

This season, he has all but eradicated that weakness from his game and his wonderful star-jump stops (a Schmeichel-trademark) have saved Leicester City's bacon so many times (readers of a certain vintage can enjoy remembering the Elder Schmeichel's bacon connection here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZCAmZ9cOaoc).

Schmeichel - saving bacon

Another Schmeichel trademark, of course, is goals (see: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XiypsJpTx3E).  Those who witnessed Kasper's 'goal' against Yeovil will surely never forget it.

Yet, so cruelly denied this goal by a short-sighted ref, Kasper shares this snub with his nearest rival for his spot in this team, Tim Flowers.  In the last game of the 2002/03 season, and with promotion already in the bag, Leicester were trailing 1-0 away at Wolves (where Flowers had started his career) when City were awarded a last minute penalty.  Flowers, in what was to be the last meaningful game of his career, signalled to the bench to ask if he could take it.  Micky Adams refused, cruelly, and "Tricky" Trev Benjamin slotted it home.

Kevin Poole, Flowers and Schmeichel - three Leicester City legends - but Kasper gets the nod.

LEFT-BACK: Mike Whitlow (1996) -

Whitlow - no nonsense

Continuing the theme of Leicester City players being cruelly denied, Mike Whitlow loved Leicester City so much that he nobly sacrificed his (old) Division One medal when he joined City from champions-to-be Leeds United in March 1992.  Although he'd played enough games for Leeds to earn a medal in Leeds' triumphant campaign, he was denied under the old system as he was playing for Leicester when Leeds clinched the last old Division One title in May of that year. 

Thankfully, this tale has a happier ending for Whitlow than for Kasper or Flowers, as the PFA finally awarded him his medal in 2002.

A faithful servant and a solid, no-nonsense full-back from the days when full-backs were defenders rather than supplementary attackers, Whitlow played for Leicester for over five years.  He wrote his name in Leicester City folklore as not only did he play in the play-off final against Crystal Palace, but he was also part of the successful 1997 League Cup campaign.

CENTRE-BACK: Steve Walsh (1996) -

Captain Fantastic

Is there any City fan over 20 who remembers the days of Steve Walsh with anything other than pure, unbridled nostalgia?

Captain Fantastic was a true leader on the pitch and a true gentleman off it, he was the player people turned to when they needed a safe pair of hands.  The coolest of heads, it's hard to see how Leicester City could have pulled off the impossible in 1996 without Steve Walsh at the back.

With almost 400 appearances for the Foxes, Walsh also scored (or played a part) in so many crucial Leicester goals - he set-up both goals in the two League Cup Finals of 1997, he scored the goal against Arsenal in the 3-3 draw of 1997, and the play-off goal against Derby in 1994.

The fact that he has spoken of being treated so cruelly at the end of his career by he-who-must-not-be-named (P***r T**lor, or the man Walshy labels 'Tater Peeler) only enhances his status as a legend amongst the City faithful.

CENTRE-BACK: Matt Elliott (2003) -

A near impossible call.

The CB position of our promotion years is flush with talent - Morgan, Elliott, Taggart or Liam 'he's one of our own' Moore could all do a job alongside Steve Walsh.

The Walsh-Elliott-Taggart troika was immense for City in the Premier League, combining a canny ability to score goals with an immovability that would have made the Soviet Union view the Berlin Wall as an unnecessary extravagance.  

Elliott-Walsh-Taggart in 1998

Then, when the glamour of the Premier League fell from our grasp, when we were relegated after eight years of success and plunged into administration and financial misery - we had no Steve Walsh (he'd been sent to Norfolk by 'Tater Peeler...). We looked to Elliott to deliver leadership, to keep his head when most about him were losing theirs.

And he delivered.

Combining the toughness and physicality of Steve Walsh with a technique and deftness of touch that would make most centre-forwards jealous, Elliott was always composed on the ball and notched up 26 goals in his Leicester City career.

RIGHT-BACK: Ritchie De Laet  (2014) -

It was hard to resist the urge to put Liam Moore in at right-back, just to get the local lad in the team, but RDL has been one of Leicester City's unsung heroes this campaign.

Winterburn: NOT RDL

The epitome of the modern day "wing-back" rather than full-back, RDL's style is more Philip Lahm than Nigel Winterburn - and all the better for it.  From the same Manchester United academy that has given Leicester City the midfield lynchpins of Danny Drinkwater and Matty James, RDL's foraging runs down the right have been a key element in so many Leicester goals this season, not least his fabulous goal against Derby County. 

The fact that he sometimes gets caught out at the back will always be forgiven when he is such a threat going forward.

LEFT-MIDFIELD: Lloyd Dyer (2014) -

The third longest-serving current City player (assuming that Conrad Logan counts...) Dyer won over so many City fans in 2011, when put out to pasture under Sven.

"I love this club and my son loves this club"

When Lloyd was ignored in favour of lesser lights such as Neil Danns or Michael Johnson, he didn't sulk on the sidelines but instead declared he was "proper proud" to play for Leicester and spoke of his (and his young son's) love of the club, rejecting a move elsewhere.  From that moment on, his place in Leicester fans' hearts was assured.

This season, he has been City's most improved player without question.  Undeniably quick, Lloyd often fluffed his lines at the last moment, yet this season his pace down either flank has finally been alloyed with a (sometimes) clinical finish and (sometimes) an instinct for the killer ball, with 9 goals and countless assists.  Mahrez has kept him out of the team of late, but Lloydy was crucial for so much of this year.

CENTRE-MIDFIELD: Muzzy Izzet (2003) -

The only member of this dream team to have featured in two promotion-winning campaigns (1996 and 2003), Muzzy Izzet was the easiest choice to make.

When others (*cough* Robbie Savage *cough*) abandoned ship in the wake of Leicester City's financial woes and relegation in 2002, Izzet rolled up his sleeves and dug in.  In a midfield consisting of wet-behind-the-ears youngsters and players playing for nothing (Billy Mickinlay and Nicky Summerbee deserve honourable mentions for the latter), Izzet was an experienced pro and a composed presence.

In 270 games over 8 years at Leicester, this Chelsea academy product possessed a true threat going forward and scored some incredible goals (including this peach against Grimsby Town: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a6OHXjh2CLk).

"I love this place" Muzzy declared upon yet another relegation in 2004, and it's hard to believe that Izzet wouldn't have had more recognition in certain quarters had he played for a more 'glamorous' Premier League outfit.

CENTRE-MIDFIELD: Danny Drinkwater (2014) -

Some readers will have a minor coronary at the omission of "Number 7" - Neil Lennon from this squad, but there's no place for Neil for the same reason Riyad Mahrez is left out.  Lennon only signed in February of the 1995/1996 promotion season and his impact was not so significant in that promotion year to oust the wonderful Danny Drinkwater.

You what?

When Drinky plays well, so do Leicester.

He always shows for the ball, he always works tirelessly without the ball and links the defence and the strikers when he does have possession.  It was no coincidence that, when Drinkwater's form fell off in early 2013, Leicester fell away from the automatic spots.

More even than Knockaert, Drinky's story is the story of redemption. Having come in for criticism from the Foxes' faithful during that dismal run last season, Drinky reminded the fans of their criticism with ear-cups after goals against 'Boro and Charlton.  Since then, he has quietly gone about his business as the heartbeat of this team along with Matty James, with whom he seems to share a telepathic understanding.

RIGHT-MIDFIELD: Anthony Knockaert (2014) -

Vicarage Road. 12 May, 2013.  2:21pm. 

The scaffolding that counts as Watford's stadium is coated in glorious sunshine.  The travelling City fans are bouncing.  Leicester have just been awarded a penalty.  In the play-off semi-final.  In the 97th minute.  This is it.  After almost 10 years.  Leicester are one kick away from Wembley.

Magnifique

After winning the penalty, 21 year-old Frenchman Tony Knockaert grabs the ball.  He places the ball on the spot.  He takes 10 steps back.  But, he looks nervous.

His mouth is open and he's gasping for air as he walks away from the ball, like a boxer in the 12th round  He throws a quick glance at referee Michael Oliver, and begins his run-up....

We all know what happens next.

And, we all know how well, and how quickly, Tony K recovered.

It was all love for him after that penalty miss and this year he was able to carry on from where he left off last season.  After his wonderful goal at Vicarage Road in November, it felt like he had completely put that day in May behind him.

He offers that little bit of magic when all seems lost.  Truly special, and truly loved by the Leicester fans.

CENTRE-FORWARD: Paul Dickov (2003) -

Paul Dickov in 2003

Paul Dickov's nickname - the Wasp - was inspired less by his small stature and more by his relentless terrorising of defenders.

His workrate would tire the Duracell bunny and his commitment to winning three points on a Saturday afternoon would make Tony Benn's commitment to socialism look like a passing interest.

In 2002/2003 he was able to find the perfect foil in Brian Deane, and their partnership was one of the last 'Little 'n Large' partnerships, before that fad fell by the wayside.

Also in that 2002/03 season, Dickov became for Leicester City that rarest of beasts - a 20-goal-a-season striker, notching up the perfect 20 in League and Cup.


CENTRE-FORWARD: Emile Heskey (1996) -

William Ivanhoe

Emile Heskey made his debut in a defeat at QPR in March 1995, when Leicester City were in the final throes of a miserable Premier League season.  However, he didn't really 'arrive' until a truly momentous home fixture against Norwich, just before Christmas the same year.

Sir Martin O'Neill had resigned from the Norwich job hours before kick-off, leaving both Norwich and Leicester City managerless, after McGhee had crossed the Midlands to join Wolves.  O'Neill was, of course, soon to join Leicester, but before any of that took place - there was a game to win.

After Leicester had battled back from 2-0 down to draw things level, a young Emile side-footed a goal home 11 minutes from time.  Leicester had taken the 3 points, and Emile Heskey had shown he was something special.

Although Heskey contributed only 7 goals in that promotion campaign, his performances were based on much more than goals alone, as is always the way with Emile.  He had the physique of a boxer and combined a decent touch with a selflessness and a tactical awareness that brought the best out of those he played with, and earned him 62 England caps.

SUBS:

Tim Flowers (GK) (2003)
Gerry Taggart (CB) (2003)
Wes Morgan (CB) (2014)
Neil Lennon (CM) (1996)
Garry Parker (CM) (1996)
Jamie Vardy (CF) (2014)
Steve Claridge (CF) (1996)

The Bookies and Leicester City

How the boys in blue always contrive to defy the bookies....

When I place a bet, I lose money. The second is an inevitable outcome of the first.

As when Joe Kinnear opens his mouth, he awards himself another fake LMA Manager of the Year Award, or a Newcastle player whose name isn't mind-numbingly Anglo-Saxon (i.e. anyone who isn't Steven Taylor) has their name garbled (always slightly strange given Kinnear's Dublin heritage).

These are inevitabilities. Like the setting of the sun or the coming of the tide. They just are. And they always will be.

The second inevitability of gambling is that, whenever I place a bet, I hear the words "You'll never meet a rich gambler" or "The bookies are always right".

Well, it turns out that there's one thing the bookies get wrong. Every single year.

Bookies: Taking money from me, yesterday

For every single year, around this time of June, Leicester City fans begin to endure an existential crisis. The doom-mongers come out in force and the rumours start flying. The Thais are leaving. The money's run out. The party's over and this will be the mother of all hangovers. Kasper's going to Hull. Andy King's going to [insert name here]. Chris Wood has squared up to Big Nige and fled to Magaluf with the lads (he's done neither, of course, as far as I know). We won't make the play-offs next year. Financial Fair Play will cripple us. THE END IS NIGH.

Every year, around this time of June, I ignore the rumours and look at the odds. Since some time in the mid-1920s, every time Leicester City have been in the second tier, if the bookies don't have Leicester as favourites to win the League, they've had us somewhere in the top 4.

So, keep calm and look at the odds. We'll be fine, the bookies are always right and yet again the bookies reckon we've got a fair chance of going well. Even though Reading have added Royston Drenthe to an already capable squad and we've signed the square root of sod all, we're not that far behind them in the odds table.

But why? For the past 10 years, we've had nothing to cheer but two play-off semi-finals. Yet still, with a persistence bordering on delusional, Mr. Hill, Mr. Power, Mr. 365 and pals, all say Leicester are going to do well, every year, without fail. Either they're idiots, or this is their idea of a joke - and they chuckle at themselves as the Leicester faithful duly hand over their money with hope in their eyes and faith in their hearts.

But there's one man who gives me hope. One man who realised that the bookies had, purely for sh*ts and gigs, put his team as favourites to win the Championship and thought "Sod them all, I'll win it anyway." 

That man is Neil Warnock.

Famously, throughout the 2010/11 season, when QPR were winning the Championship at a canter. Warnock was incredulous. "I looked at the odds in the summer and saw they had us to win the League, and I thought I was looking at the thing upside down, to be honest. It's incredible. My team has come together in 13 months. It's incredible how the lads have responded to it."

So, Neil, thanks.

Neil Warnock: delighted

Next time someone tells me Leicester are doomed, I will just look at the odds. And I will think, Neil, if you could defy the bookies' twisted sense of humour, you loveable Yorkshireman, with your incredible eyebrows, then so can Big Nige, with his incredible white trainers.

If the QPR of 2011 could do it with their mix of last-chance salooners (Shaun Derry, Clint Hill) and young firecrackers (Adel Taarabt) then so can we with ours (Wes Morgan / Anthony Knockaert).

If we can't, then the bookies will yet again be wrong. When it comes to Leicester's promotion chances, of course, they always are.

Anthony Knockaert: devastated

Politics and Rumours at Belvoir Drive

If rumours are to be believed, the air at Belvoir Drive hangs thick with politics and intrigue. 

Pearson's authority is being tested more than at any time in this, his second reign, as players who were once feted as key ingredients of Sven's bright new dawn are gathering dust in the reserves and being made to train with the kids. Most ominously, Pearson is having to deny rumours that he is fearing the sack (http://www.bbc.co.uk/sport/0/football/19747208 ) which is the clearest sign yet that he feels Aiywatt is sharpening the metaphorical axe and preparing a very non-metaphorical P45. Some fans are baying for his blood, some posters on FoxesTalk and Twitter are calling for his head, and some players on Twitter are coming perilously close to showing very public dissent. The crown is slipping from the King's head. 

If similar stories were coming out of Whitehall, political commentators would think Christmas had come early and would have more column inches than could fit in their pages. And with all that's gone on this week, it wouldn't have surprised me to read Pearson had done an Eric Joyce (http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2105180/Eric-Joyce-Labour-MP-arrested-bar-brawl-inside-House-Commons.html ) and started throwing uppercuts in Belvoir Drive's canteen, after moaning the place was full of "f*cking Svennies".

To crown it all, at the very end of the working week, Beckford ended his own little mini-saga by going up the M1 to Huddersfield. 

Matt Mills, Jermaine Beckford, DJ Campbell, Max Gradel, Sol Bamba. All players who at one time shouldered the City fans' hopes, all players who were, at one time, seen by the fans as players Pearson could build a team around. All players who were banished from Pearson's realm with varying degrees of drama. 

At the end of such a week, getting rid of Beckford was Pearson as the embodiment of the "High Risk Army". Pearson will know well enough that Beckford's absence is a potential stick to beat him with, should we struggle in the coming weeks. Whatever the fans think of Beckford (and the other player(s) who have apparently fallen out of favour with Big Nige), it is easy to see Jermaine's departure at Pearson's hands as the act of man whose frantic to cling on to his fading authority, and who has been labelled as arrogant and unlikeable by some sections of the Foxes faithful.

And yet, with each win and after the win today at 'Boro, the third on the bounce, it is easier to see Pearson as a manager who simply knows what he wants, who knows what the Club should look like and who will not abide those who don't fit in with that view. 

There is another manager who is often accused of arrogance. There is another manager who has exiled several big names from his kingdom, either after an open falling out (as appears to be the case with Matt Mills, Jermaine Beckford and others) or simply because the player no longer fitted into his plans (as appears to be the case with Sol Bamba, Max Gradel and others) and been derided for doing so. 

Jaap Stam, Roy Keane, David Beckham, Paul Ince, Ruud Van Nistlerooy. All players who Sir Alex Ferguson has deemed surplus to requirements at Carrington, amid rumours of many fierce arguments, at least one boot flying around the dressing room and more hair dryers than a BaByliss factory. 

And yet, we all know what Sir Alex Ferguson has achieved at Old Trafford. His authority is unquestionable and his actions are (almost totally) unquestionable. There was speculation at the start of the season that Wayne Rooney was the next big name for the chopping block, and the reaction amongst fans was almost indifference. If Fergie gets rid of a big name player, there are question marks over the player's career; there are no question marks over Fergie's managerial ability. Fergie Knows Best, is the mantra. 

On Tuesday, Richie de Laet explicitly compared Big Nige to SAF, noting "There is something that is similar" between the two (http://www.thisisleicestershire.co.uk/Nigel-Pearson-just-like-Alex-Ferguson-says/story-16975261-detail/story.html). 

Such comments are easily mocked, as de Laet sucks up to the man in charge. The equivalent of Gareth massaging David Brent's shoulders, Richie massages the boss's (seemingly fragile) ego. 

And yet, to compare Big Nige and SAF's managerial style is not to say they are of similar ability, or to say that Big Nige is the next SAF. The differences between the two managers are easy to see and hardly need recounting. They sit in the trophy room at Old Trafford (12 x Premier League titles, 5 x FA Cups, 4 x League Cups and 2 x Champions League titles).

All that can be said is that Pearson is stamping his authority on the Club. No player can be bigger than the manager, nor bigger than Leicester City FC. Pearson is well aware that his authority has to be total and he alone must decide who is worthy of pulling on the royal blue shirt. 

That is admirable. He will not duck the hard decisions. He will put his neck on the line, and he knows it. Love him or loathe him, it is better that the manager runs the dressing room, rather than loses it; it is better that the manager is dictator of the dressing room, rather than is dictated by it.

Before today, Pearson was under immense pressure. That pressure will hardly alleviate. 

But he should not be derided as arrogant when he gets rid of highly paid players who are deemed surplus to requirements. That is his job.

 “The minute a footballer becomes more important than the manager, your club is dead – the history of this club goes down the drain. I am the most important man at Manchester United." said Fergie, "It has to be that way."

Opening Days

Opening days reveal so much more than 90 minutes of football should do. 

Ask anyone who was at Filbert Street in August, 2001, when newly-promoted Bolton Wanderers hammered Leicester for 5 without reply and an unknown Kevin Nolan bagged a brace. 10 months later and Leicester had finished bottom and been relegated, Bolton had finished 16th and survived.

10 years later (albet in the second game of the season), in August 2011, Leicester were outgunned and outclassed in a 2-0 reverse by a Reading side who had sold both their captain Matt Mills and their star forward Shane Long.  By May, Reading had won the League and Leicester had won mid-table mediocrity.

" There are always a few funny results on the first day of the season and we didn't want to be one of those." 

Leicester secured a valuable 2-0 win in the energy-sapping heat at LE2, and the manager wore the look of a relieved man. The player who had opened the scoring, early in the second half, was similarly relieved and heaped praise on Leicester's opponents. 

"  To score the opening goal was magnificent but to be fair, they played very well. We had a good spell in the first 10 or 15 minutes and then they played very well. But, at the beginning of the second half we created a great chance and managed to put it away. 

We just want to concentrate on picking up points, really and we're just looking to pick up as many points as we can early doors." 

Sorry, I know. One of the oldest tricks. That manager was, of course, Micky Adams and that goalscorer was Brian Deane, after Leicester City had just beaten Watford 2-0 on the opening day of the 02/03 season. That season, we finished 2nd in Division One and comfortably secured a return to the Promised Land. 

A comparison between then and now sheds some light on how Leicester are set for the forthcoming campaign. 

To say Leicester had a turbulent Summer in 2002 is an under-statement akin to saying Dennis Wise is a bit of a plonker, or Aiywatt Rasriaksorn has built a nice little line in duty free. 

In May 2002, we had been relegated from the Premier League, by October we had entered Adminstration and made it a hat-trick of disaster by having a transfer embargo slapped on us. We had sold Gary Rowett and Robbie Savage in a fire sale and Tim Flowers and Matt Elliott were on the transfer list. Nicky Summerbee and Billy McKinlay had shown admirable self-sacrifice and agreed to play for free. No-one quite knew whether the 02/03 season would see Leicester's resurrection, like the proverbial Phoenix from the ashes, or see the boys in blue continue to sink without a trace. 

This summer has been nowhere near as turbulent as 10 years ago, but there has been enough comings and goings to make the forthcoming season almost impossible to predict. Then, as now, we have a young squad (the average age yesterday was 24.7) and we have a strong team unit which is more, much more, than the sum of its parts. 

Last Summer, Sven stuck to the old Soviet philosophy that quantity has a quality all of its own, as he bought players with the urgency of an eight year old collecting stickers (not that anyone complained at the time, least of all me). In contrast, Pearson has been extremely selective (almost too selective, in some people's eyes) and only bought when he saw value. 

Yesterday's performance, though, was pure Pearson. No single player hogged the limelight. No player took an unnecessary risk or bombed forward, out of position. The defence and midfield were solid. The movement and link-up play of the forward players was excellent and the supply from the midfield was, at times, a joy to behold. Each and every player kept "on-message" and worked for the team. Indeed, the work-rate of a Jermaine Beckford was an impressive answer to his critics.  

It is, of course, extraordinarily early days. No doubt our emotions will alter wildly with each result. If we lose on Tuesday, it will be easy to foresee another year of consistent inconsistency. If we get something on Tuesday, optimism will start to build steadily, just like in 2002. 

If the latter happens (and it is a big if), how Pearson taps into that optimism, without inducing either pressure or complacency in his charges, will be interesting to see. For now, we can all enjoy a 100% start to the campaign and a record of 6 goals for, 0 against. 

Could it possibly be 2002 all over again?

Leicester City: Liked? 

I was walking through the Kiev Fans Zone in my Leicester shirt. I was pretty hanging, I was tired and the prospect of watching the Greece - Russia game on a big screen was about as appealing as being stuck in a lift with Sam Allardyce. We'd only come to the Fans Zone out of habit and I was looking forward to giving my liver a well-deserved rest.

A Swedish accent shouted: "Pontus Kåmark!" I must have misheard, so I carried on walking. Then, the Swede grabbed me and pointed to the City crest. "Hey, Leester City. We love Pontus Kåmark."  The guy told me that Pontus was now carving out a career as TV pundit in Sweden and, as he had been a successful export to the Premier League (more successful than that famous pie-eater, Thomas Brolin, anyway), he was well-liked. By extension, Leicester City were also moderately popular in that part of Scandinavia.

One of his mates chipped in that he was fans of Karlstadt and then waited for a reaction. "Oh, okay." I tried, not having a f*cking clue what he wanted me to say. "George Taft. George Taft. We've been drinking in Karlstad with Taft." Then I remembered vaguely that Taft had been loaned to a Swedish club. It was interesting that none of them mentioned the Beckham-adoring lothario, Sven Goran-Erikkson, arguably the most famous link between Leicester and Sweden. Instead, it was an Academy prospect and one of MON's most reliable acquisitions that had forged links across the North Sea (and ended up with me causing my long-suffering liver yet more harm).

It was nice, and pretty unexpected, that my Leicester shirt was met with something other than complete indifference in Ukraine, but what about fans of English clubs? I've always assumed Leicester were not well-liked by fellow Brits. Even under the glory years of MON, we were seen as offering substance over style. Few fans or pundits gave a toss when we were relegated under Dave Bassett, seeing the Championship (or lower) as our rightful place in the World. Opposition managers begrudged our victories over their teams. Most memorably, when we defended like Trojans to knock Arsenal out of the FA Cup in January, 2000 (see below) Wenger said: "They didn't really try to come out, they just tried to defend. They are very confident to take penalties, maybe, but it was a strange game. It was not a good game at all. I'm happy that you do not see this kind of game,ever, in England."

It was a pleasant surprise, then, that my Leicester shirt met with such comments as: 

"I've always thought Leicester are one of the clubs who are gonna come back up to the Prem, sooner or later." (from a Bradford City fan).  

"Filbert Street was such a classic old school ground, we always loved going there. Why the f*ck did you move to that flat-pack arena?" (from a Chelsea fan). 

"Oh, I love that shirt. Whenever I think of the  classic years of the Premier League, I always see Leicester in that shirt." (from a Torquay fan, when I was in this classic: ) 

I met a guy in the Donbass in Donetsk, who was trying to offload a few tickets for the Ukraine match, and he was telling me that he'd come out to Ukraine on his own, as his mates had let him down. He'd been a bit nervous about doing this, but (before I told him I was a City fan) he said he'd met up with a group of Leicester fans (about 50 of them) who'd kind of taken him under their wing and seen him right. "Great lads, they are, great lads. They always bring a big contingent when England go away." He was a Southampton fan. " Oh, you'll do it." He said, when I told him who I supported. "I was at the Walkers' last year for that 3-2. And the game at Saint Mary's. Pissed me off! But, you probably just about deserved those wins."

The same day (before a solid 1-1 opener against the French) we'd been to the Golden Lion "England Fans' Pub" in the heart of Donetsk. A see of red roses, drunken English fans in beer-soaked knights' costumes and row upon row of the cross of Saint George greeted my arrival. One flag caught my eye, reminding me of many a cold night at the Walkers and proudly outshining the C**entry City flag next to it:

Jamie Vardy: A Ray of Hope

Harrison ("Harry") Panayiotou was gleeful. So gleeful, in fact, that he fell over, before being grabbed by Dave Nugent and running to the City faithful who had made the trip to West Yorkshire. It was a glorious moment to be a City fan. A last minute winner against Leeds is always so, so satisfying (see, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1Il3TiXJpAA). These moments remind you why you follow football, even in a dead-rubber match, a goal can be scored that you know will live long in the memory. Such a goal has surely earned Panayiotou a place in City folklore.

Yet, after the match, Pearson was unequivocal. As ever, he resembled that PE teacher from school who always bollocked you for forgetting your kit. He was frowning, his arms were folded across his chest and he made it clear that he did not share the fans' joy. He talked of a need to rebuild and bemoaned a poor refereeing performance:    

" We finished with a win and that's the best you can say...The season has finished now and we are looking forward to getting a rebuild." 

Just one week on, it feels as if that game against Leeds may as well have been a year ago.  A season of what-might-have-been has been transformed into a season of what-might-be.

What is clear is that Nigel Pearson will not be splashing the cash around like the Sheikh of some oil-soaked Middle Eastern emirate. We will not be going after headline-grabbing names and the days of being linked to the likes of David Beckham, Thierry Henry etc.belong to a by-gone era.

The first name on Big Nige's wish-list is Jamie Vardy, Fleetwood Town's  number 33. It's pretty clear that opinion among fans is split, with some questioning whether Vardy can make the step up from the BSP to Championship.

It seems that the argument among City fans has generated a lot of heat and not much light. So, who is Jamie Vardy and what's he done to earn his place on Nige's wish list?

Jamie Vardy began his career at Stocksbridge Park Steels, who were then in the ninth tier of the English pyramid (the Evo-Stik Divison One North). For three seasons, between 2007 and 2010 Vardy scored 66 goals in 107 games, a rate of a goal every 1.62 games, for the Yorkshire club as they rose to the Evo-Stik Premier League.

Vardy moved to FC Halifax Town of the Conference North in 2010, turning down a short-term contract with Rotherham United. He netted an impressive 29 goals in 41 games that season (1 goal every 1.41 appearances).

Vardy started this season with the Shaymen and continued where he left off from the previous campaign. He bagged three in the first four games this season before making the step up to Fleetwood of the Conference on the 26 August 2011. Cod Army Chairman Andy Pilley had been investing heavily into Fleetwood, with an eye on promotion to the Football League, and the signing of Vardy was seen as a huge statement of intent as the likes of Huddersfield Town, Burton Albion and Crewe Alexandra had been monitoring the player.

Vardy scored his first goals for Fleetwood when he bagged a brace in his third game at Kettering and has since gone on to net 31 goals in just 36 appearances this season, as Fleetwood strolled to the Conference with a total of 103 points.

In 2012, Vardy has been linked with everyone from Rangers to Palace and West Brom, and now (if rumours are to be believed) he's poised to join Big Nige's revolution at City.  I, for one, cannot wait. This is the sort of signing we were crying out for under Svennis;  a player with hunger and desire and pace to burn. And, it goes without saying, Vardy is a finisher of supreme quality.

He is also 25, so he is not exactly "one for the future". Instead, he is not far from that make-or-break point of a player's career when he will find out just how high his star can rise.

I remember, in 1997, Leicester City signed a largely unknown central defender from Oxford United. My Dad's reaction "Do they even play football in Oxford?" summed up the ignorance of our fans to lower level football. That player was a certain Matthew Stephen Elliott. That player went on to carve his name into Leicester legend as a fantastic, no-nonsense centre-back (some time centre-forward) and a great Captain.

One Fleetwood fan told me that Vardy could be a successful Championship striker "standing on his head". Now that really would be something to see.

I think most City fans just hope for a player with hunger and fight and I think Jamie Vardy more than fits the bill. The idea of Vardy and Nugent up front next season makes me so, so glad I renewed my season ticket.

" To hope is to risk pain. To try is to risk failure. But, risk must be taken because the greatest hazard in life is to risk nothing." 


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WKrPMrRGJUo