Today, I woke up a kindred spirit to Ebenezer Scrooge on Christmas morning, after the epiphany that would change his life forever, embroiled in ecstasy and overflowing with optimism. It felt like the first day of the rest of my life and I owe every emotion completely to Leicester City.
In footballing terms, and especially Premier League terms, we already know the Foxes’ miraculous title triumph has changed the rules of the game. They’ve proved £100million-odd transfer budgets can only go so far, the best team can always dwarf the accomplishments of the best collection of individuals and understanding your own strengths and weaknesses is a far more powerful weapon than chasing ‘the right way’ of playing.
With the Premier League about to welcome a double-your-money television deal and set to kick off next season with arguably the strongest and most ideologically diverse managerial cohort in its history, Leicester City’s title on a shoestring, achieved through a simple-yet-effective, 4-4-2 fashion of play, is a welcome reminder to all.
Likewise, whether you are in the Champions League or the Championship, the top flight or the bottom of the pyramid, Leicester are testament that English football is still first and foremost a meritocracy. Anybody can eventually reach the top if they’re prepared to work hard enough and never surrender their self-belief.
But to limit the miracle of the Midlands to simply the realm of football would be to do it a grave disservice. Leicester’s incredible season transcends the beautiful game and relates to any ordinary person who has ever dared to dream – and especially those who were told their dreams would never come true. I’m sure 99% of those reading, if not more, fall into that category.
A group of players who’ve suffered rejection time and again throughout their careers; a manager who was told he’d never win a league title and be the first sacking of the 2015/16 season; a club that was not long ago marooned in League One and even less long ago condemned to relegation by pretty much every pundit worth his salt; and a group of fans who always assumed they’d never get an invite to the wedding, let alone be a bridesmaid.
The saga of Leicester City is the underdog story in its purest form, yet it was not devised in the script of a Hollywood director; it came to life, took place and concluded, ever expanding in its incredibility, in front of our very eyes. It is one of sport’s most romantic fairytales, one of my life’s greatest moments and in a world seemingly increasing in its division between the haves and the have-nots, proof that the established elite can never be completely immune to the will of the everyman.
It may sound cheesy, soppy or like I’m simply jumping on the bandwagon. But if Jamie Vardy can go from earning £30 per week at Stocksbridge Park Steels to firing Leicester City to the Premier League title (and potentially England to the Euro 2016 title) in the space of six years, if Marc Albrighton can lift the English crown two seasons after being released by now-Championship-bound Aston Villa, and if Wes Morgan can transform himself from relegation fodder to the Premier League’s most formidable centre-back in the short space of 18 months, I truly believe anything – footballing or otherwise – is possible.
Dare to Vardy, dare to Ranieri, dare to Leicester, dare to dream and no matter what anybody tells you, never, ever give up. If the Foxes can conquer the most incredible of ambitions, so can you.
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