One catastrophic relegation is unfortunate, two feels like carelessness. That is the fate that awaits this torrid Leicester City side, perhaps as soon as Tuesday evening.
Whether this is the least likable Leicester team in history is something each of us has to answer for themselves. It is almost certainly the worst, with the 2007/8 total of 52 points a long way off, even when you factor in a points deduction. But there is something about this version that is far more offensive than that.
The last, and hitherto only, team to get relegated from the Championship had dislikable managers, but it was not a group put together at eye-watering cost, nor was it a group who had continually failed over a period of years. The most memorable things about it were the succession of chances of survival that went begging and the procession of balds who contributed to its downfall.
Everything about this team, meanwhile, stinks. It’s fitting that all of its worst qualities were on display in this final chance at salvation. A team that has barely won a game of any meaning since the FA Cup win put in a predictably dreadful display under pressure, and displayed more fight in confrontations with both sets of fans than they did on the pitch.
The defining image of the game may end up being Harry Winks telling his own fans to f*** off. But it could be any number of snapshots that sum up why this team is going down: Patson Daka running through on the ‘keeper and fluffing his lines; Sky Sports flashing up a graphic showing Leicester bottom or second-bottom by every conceivable measure of athleticism; Sky Sports flashing up a graphic showing Leicester have the worst record in the league from set pieces, then conceding from a corner; Hamza Choudhury shouting at the Pompey fans as he was substituted; Gary Rowett remarking in the post-game interview that he felt we “had a good week”.
Rubbish, unfit, soft, petulant, deluded. Just about sums it up.
Rowett’s tenure began with some promise. Up until the March international break, there were signs of things turning around. Some more fight, a clean sheet, more opportunities to win. Since that interruption, he is as culpable as everyone else.
He has made strange selection decisions, from playing the exact same XI 48 hours apart over Easter, to his decision to randomly swap goalkeepers for this crucial match. Recently, he has been bemoaning the fact he has a squad that can only play one way – who knew it was as many as that – then setting them up to play a different way.
Jeremy Monga didn’t feature again despite a completely invisible performance from Stephy Mavididi. Olabade Aluko was given a grand total of 4 minutes to impact proceedings. And they are the only two youngsters getting any game time at all. The loanees are faring even worse, with Dujuan Richards and Joe Aribo barely seeing the pitch even as those in front of them keep failing. Neither Mavididi nor Bobby De Cordova Reid have scored a league goal this year.
More than his selection decisions, the problem in recent weeks has been a kind of all-encompassing passivity from him and his players. Entire halves have gone to waste, then Rowett waits another 30 minutes after half time to do anything. There has been no urgency until it is far too late. The sheer amount of time Leicester lost by just allowing this game to drift is astonishing.
So little happened at Fratton Park, particularly in the first half., that you could almost sum it up in a tweet. Daka was unfortunate not to win a penalty. Two players went off with hamstring injuries. A Portsmouth player smashed a ball into a lady’s face in the front row. Luke Thomas took a long throw down the line that went straight out of play. Half time pint?
Leicester allowed Portsmouth to dictate the tempo, failing once again to rise to the seriousness of the situation. This was a vital, must-win game. For Leicester. Not for Portsmouth, for whom a draw would have been fine. Yet Asmir Begovic took an interminably long time over every goal kick and Thomas ambled over every throw. There was no indication that anyone felt an urgency to do anything.
The players themselves should have understood this. The manager certainly should have. Yet on and on it went.
Inevitably, it was only once they were a goal down, deep into the second half, that Leicester showed any life. The inevitable corner went in off a combination of Ibane Bowet’s hand and knee, and it still took 10 minutes after that for us to see any sign of substitutions.
Jordan James and Divine Mukasa came on for Mavididi and Choudhury, which allowed the latter to get embroiled with the ref and the home end. Within two minutes of the changes, Daka had a good header saved and Vestergaard took too long over an excellent chance. Then Daka fluffed his lines after latching onto a bad backpass.
Maybe Leicester would have lost either way, but you feel James had to start even if his fitness would only last an hour. Mukasa, though inconsistent, is a far better player than De Cordova Reid. By only introducing them once the situation was desperate, they had barely 20 minutes to produce a miracle.
There was no miracle forthcoming. After that initial flurry, the game spluttered to a finish to the tune of an increasingly raucous crowd. Leicester had two opportunities to put a free kick in the box in the closing stages, and put two dreadful efforts straight out of play. Then, at full time, a sorry set of pink shirts tentatively approached the away end to receive their weekly barracking.
Many, if not most, of those players will be relieved that only three games remain of their Leicester City careers. No doubt the odd one will be hurting – James and Thomas in particular looked despondent at the end – but you suspect the majority fall closer to the Winks end of the spectrum.
At least, in a final act of kindness, those players have all-but ensured that those supporters forced to make a decision on season ticket renewals three games before the end of the campaign will know what division they’re paying for. No boys, thank you.
Relegation will likely be confirmed on Tuesday evening, a day after the renewal deadline, but don’t worry. There’s no saving Leicester now.
The Fosse Way 