How Leicester City lost touch with financial reality – and who’s to blame
The numbers for 2022-23 are out – and they’re far from pretty. For some fans, it’s the final straw… and it’s clear who the finger of blame should be pointed at, writes Joe Brewin
Before we begin, read the need-to-know about our 2022-23 financial results from the usual excellent sources: write-ups from Jordan Blackwell and John Percy, plus an excellent When You’re Smiling Pod that features our very own Iain Wright and financial expert Kieran Maguire.
In May, this fool wrote a piece that pondered just how screwed Leicester City would be if we got relegated from the Premier League last season. It kicked off with a picture of idiocy via Peter Ridsdale’s goldfish – the quintessential caricature of reckless spending in top-flight history, which ultimately led to Leeds United enjoying three seasons in League One and getting shanked in the showers by the likes of Carlisle, Cheltenham, Oldham and Tranmere. Crucially, that reference was a joke.
“The hope is that this article is entirely moot in a few days’ time,” came the pointless closing gambit. “But one thing is certain either way: whether we stay up or hurtle to the ground in a gory blaze on Sunday, major change is afoot this summer. This appalling season has shaken the club to its core – and maybe, just maybe, some lessons will be learned as a result.”
Someone, somewhere in a dimly lit office at the King Power Stadium (because have you seen electricity bills these days?), a staffer in the club's financial department was firing up NewsNow with a maniacal grin. “HAHAHA, INTERNET MORON!!! YOU HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA!!!” before presumably opening their window and diving headfirst into a skip of burning spreadsheets.
How the hell has it come to this?
When you’re smiling…
It’s important to try to laugh our way through, because the reality might just drive you a little bit insane. The Leeds/Ridsdale episode ended with an infamous press conference and the immortal words “we lived the dream” – a line that’s a bit too close to the bone just over 20 years on.
Whatever Faustian pacts we took to enjoy this silly little club pulling off silly little feats for a few seasons on end, we’re now bracing ourselves for the price to pay: a heavy points deduction (and then who knows what?) if we do go up; a barely conceivable gulp and shrug contemplating a terrifying alternative. The Premier League have knives out; the EFL – quite understandably – are already sensing the need to upgrade to a chainsaw.
Leicester fans who’ve been uncomfortably pointing fingers at the club for some time have finally had enough: on X, #IveJoinedTheFoxesTrust was trending within hours of the announcement.
It’s worth pointing out that we don’t know the full story just yet; that the headline number we saw yesterday isn’t the one that will contribute to our bottom line when it comes to rule-breaking. The one which will help determine whether we, don’t laugh, “may (! – Ed.) be found not to be in compliance with the applicable P&S rules for the three-year reporting period ending 2022-23”. There are yet to be add-backs, for example, like investment into youth development, the women’s team and community schemes. But that same statement also manages to say with a straight face: "Over this period the Club has always sought to balance its reasonable sporting aspirations with considerations of its compliance..."
Why even bother? Because there is no other way to put this: the club, and those who lead it, have royally buggered it. The board have, and will continue to tell you that this was unavoidable; the price to pay for trying to keep up with the best and biggest clubs in English football. (On the same day Brighton posted record Premier League profits of £123m – minus their most expensive sale in club history.)
But there’s a difference between those clubs and us. There always will be. They can afford it – or at least their books balance the failures better. They can afford to spaff £75m on the odd flop because they guarantee it back in global revenue. We chased a dream we’d already lived and put our future on the line as collateral.
How much?
It’s hard to know how this approach could have ever been sustainable for us, looking at just how big the losses have been for several years now. We flogged a heavyweight each season just to make it through – a £74.8m profit on player sales alone in 2022-23, which still led to a near-£90m black hole. And it’s not getting any better.
Mistakes at this level cost millions, that much is obvious – but this evidently isn’t just about getting the odd signing wrong, or shelling out a pretty penny to sack the manager. (Another wonder why giving Brendan the boot didn’t happen far sooner last season, with financial breaches already certain – but our playing future very much not.)
At a strategic level, this is a football club that has spent wildly beyond its means. We all lauded the way that we tied down our biggest players and turned profits from those whose heads were elsewhere – but it turns out that this was the cost. Those we didn’t or couldn’t sell made their mark, too: according to Maguire, our average salary last season was £90,000 per week. Hello, Championship!
Amid all of this, our club’s response, knowing full well they’ve been blowing it? Fixing the price of replica shirts, hiking up matchday prices, continuing to stiff casual supporters for memberships and charging a tenner for signing signatures in the club shop. Be still, my beating blue heart.
Spoiler alert: this headline was clickbait. Gotcha! Because it’s just so blatantly obvious who’s to blame for these gross failures of negligence: like a stabbing on The Orient Express, they all did it. Jon Rudkin. Susan Whelan. And above all, Khun Top.
Because it’s he who has to take the greatest blame of all. The owner might be able to point fingers of day-to-day blame at his capos, but the buck stops with him. Finance meeting upon finance meeting, window to window, the man signing the cheques will have been the one signing off this great gamble for one more doomed shot at the top six.
The man who lost touch with what was, what is and what could have been.
So, what next? Beyond the book being chucked, hefty points deductions and fire selling, some reasonable and transparent communication from the club would be nice at some point soon, after their smokescreens have cleared. Then some real accountability. Then finally, some action.
Until then, there’s an even bigger battle that’s threatening to take years off all of our lives – seven more vomit-inducing games to reach a conclusion about a future that might just be. And there’s only one lot of action we as fans can take: get behind them. Channel whatever you felt when the accounts got published into those 11 lads on the pitch.
Seven games.
We’ll be absolutely fine.
Join the Foxes Trust for £10 here – the same price as a Tom Cannon signing session!
