UNITED BY TRAGEDY, LEICESTER ARE EVERYONE’S CLUB AGAIN
MELVYN fingered his blue and white knitted scarf, outside Gate 12. ‘These were given out at Stoke away,’ he said. ‘It was going to be cold,’ his son, Mel, offered helpfully. ‘He was always doing things like that.’
‘Mince pies and free beer at Christmas when we played Manchester United,’ Melvyn recalled. They had been given breakfast by the club before setting off for Wales.
‘Everyone thinks that was because of the tragedy,’ added Mel. ‘But that was always going to be laid on by the club. He always looked after the fans. All that changed today was instead of giving us all scarves, now we have the T-shirts.’
They looked a little forlorn. Nobody wanted the T-shirts. The T-shirts told a tragic tale in pictures and words.
By now coaches were arriving. Leicester’s travelling support is substantial despite their small-club status. ‘We always sell out,’ said Mel, proudly. Fans disembarked with Thai flags and picture tributes and boxes filled with more commemorative shirts. One handmade sign, on pink paper in childlike writing, read: ‘Thank you, Khun Vichai – you made our dreams come true.’
‘Except they weren’t our dreams,’ added Melvyn. ‘We didn’t dream of winning the league. That was never a reality for us. I grew up in Hazel Street, next to where Filbert Street was. Even back then we didn’t think of winning the league. He did that for us. He changed everything.’
Father and son and father and son, united by tragedy. Back in Thailand the Srivaddhanaprabha siblings were solemnly beginning the funeral ceremony of the family patriarch, which would last four days in the Buddhist tradition.
Mel and Melvyn’s commemorations were traditional, too, in their way. They had parked near Cardiff ’s ground and made for the away end via the odd watering hole. Places that would traditionally not be the most welcoming for away fans had accepted them. Melvyn had been hugged by a woman, a complete stranger, who felt the pain of these English visitors. Not for the first time Leicester were everybody’s club again.
It was 2016 when the country had rallied behind them, the first time, in joyous circumstances. A miracle was unfolding and Leicester had temporarily converted followers in the tens of millions, worldwide. Mel and Melvyn were part of that journey, too.
‘The Norwich game,’ Melvyn recalled. ‘That was when we noticed it. We’d won 1-0 and, instead of being angry, all the Norwich coaches were tooting their horns as they went past.’ ‘Bib, bib, bib-bib-bib,’ echoed Mel. ‘And they were all chanting Leicester.’
Now the same fans, nationwide, mourn for Leicester; they weep for Leicester; they hold Leicester close and wish them to heal. After Saturday’s match when the entire travelling staff stood before the supporters in nothing more than empathy, pockets of Cardiff fans put their disappointment aside and remained behind to applaud them off. The minute’s silence was impeccably observed — and moving to experience an earnest gesture of remembrance rather than a minute’s applause — and the programme a quiet masterpiece of tasteful design. Leicester fans queued dozens deep for their copy.
Asked afterwards about the mood of the dressing room, Leicester manager Claude Puel said ‘happy but also relieved’. In all the talk of the result being an irrelevance the pressure Leicester’s players were under to do Khun Vichai justice was overlooked.
‘We were brought in by this man to do a job, and we wanted to do it for him,’ said goalkeeper Kasper Schmeichel. ‘People had a lot to say before the match, everyone wanted to chip in, but there was no need for game plans, no need for tactics, he meant so much to so many people it was just about controlling our emotions.
‘We had to stick together and be what we had always been. We just talked of how proud we were to be here. We’ve had great times together but this was different — although it felt like a cup final. I haven’t really known emotion like it on the pitch. It was a really tough game.
‘When we won the league there were amazing reactions even at away stadiums. And today everyone has reacted on a human level again. Sport can bring people together in a way not many things can, and when tragedy strikes everyone rallies around. That’s how it has felt.’
A Leicester staff member was holding Schmeichel’s goalkeeper gloves. On them, he had written ‘Vichai’.
Players and staff were leaving immediately after the game for the funeral in Thailand, but will return midweek to prepare for Saturday’s game with Burnley, the first at the King Power Stadium since the tragedy.
The emotion will be even greater, every sight imbued with poignancy, floral tributes overwhelming the surrounding area, the pitch that doubled fatefully as a helicopter landing pad, and staff car park E — now a crash site and, like Grenfell Tower, never to be forgotten by any who saw it.
Including Schmeichel. He waved Vichai and his passengers farewell that night, he said, then chased outside to be greeted by a sight beyond horror. Like others at the club he has had counselling in the past week. ‘I spoke to someone,’ Schmeichel confirmed. ‘I saw it all happen. It is something that will stay with me, unfortunately. The club has
given everyone the support they needed.’ And yet, for all the immediate horror, in many ways, the toughest times are ahead. At the moment, Leicester are getting by on incredibly powerful emotions. The unifying forces of sport and tragedy are pulling them together. Saturday’s win was the first step. The first home game will be another. But then there is a whole season to steer through, the slog of a Premier League programme, the routine, mundane, days that require reserves of mental and physical strength, when the wider football family will be busy with the own problems, and Leicester must soldier through alone.
‘If we want to honour our chairman we must control our emotions,’ said Puel, his voice a whisper. ‘It was difficult to prepare for this game, but my players found a good balance between success and emotion. It was hard to focus but all my staff have grown as people, as they learn to manage their emotions. We will not be the same men from here, and together we will move on. This was the project of our chairman and it is important to continue his dream. The players want to give their best, they want to perform, but it is important to keep that balance between emotion and self-control.’
Puel has been magnificent, dignified and respectful, but also professional enough to organise a very solid win, despite the loss of Harry Maguire to injury after 27 minutes. It illustrated the strangeness of the day that, after the game, nobody so much as asked the manager about that.
Demarai Gray scored the winner and Jamie Vardy should have had a penalty when Sol Bamba handled, but the match claimed little of the focus. That will not always be the case and it is worth recalling that before tragedy overwhelmed them, Leicester were embroiled in one of those all too frequent snits, a schism between Puel and his main striker, Vardy.
Talk of unity in such terrible adversity must be sincere if Leicester are to pull through, when their best instincts and most deep-felt emotions are not enough. CARDIFF CITY (3-3-3-1): Etheridge 7; Ecuele Manga 7, Morrison 7, Bamba 7; Camarasa 6, Gunnarsson 6, Bennett 5; Decordova-Reid 5 (Hoilett 65, 5), Arter 7 (Ward 80, 5), Murphy 6.5 (Madine 85); Paterson 5.5. Subs not used: Smithies, Cunningham, Damour, Harris. Booked: Hoilett. Manager: Neil Warnock 7. Leicester City (4-2-3-1): Schmeichel 6.5; Pereira 6, Morgan 7, Maguire 27, 5 (Evans 6.5), Chilwell 6; Mendy 7.5, Ndidi 8; Albrighton 6.5, Maddison 7 (Iborra 82), GRAY 8 (Simpson 70, 6); Vardy 6. Subs not used: Ward, Iheanacho, Diabate, Fuchs. Scorer: Gray 55. Booked: Pereira, Gray. Manager: Claude Puel 9. Referee: Lee Probert 4. Attendance: 30,877.