An anomaly. An aberration. A statistical absurdity. Leicester City’s title-winning season was all these things and more. A true one-off, something so utterly implausible that odds of 5,000/1 appeared generous. Those who took up the offer were, for the most part, either blindly partisan or people who had messed up their betting slips. As events unfolded they became visionaries.
It wasn’t meant to happen, and even after all the glowing tributes and lovingly-crafted eulogies, it still doesn’t quite seem real. Journeyman footballers like Danny Simpson and Wes Morgan transformed into Premier League champions. An unfashionable collective, not far from suffering relegation the year before, they prevailed against teams of expensive yet misfiring individuals.
Leicester were a tremendous unit, composed of largely functional parts. Few had been in much demand prior to that fairytale success. Jamie Vardy went on a great scoring run, Danny Drinkwater exemplified a superb range of passing, and N’Golo Kante ran himself into the ground. Each were important to the club’s success, and attracted interest from bigger sides, but one player stood out as something genuinely special.
Riyad Mahrez, the dainty attacking midfielder who looks like he belongs to another era. In contrast to the hyper-athletic and muscular build that is almost a prerequisite for reaching the top in modern football, the Algerian is an unimposing figure, all spindly legs, knobbly knees and skinny arms. He’s a throwback to the age of the languid entertainer, albeit with pace, dynamism and a futuristic repertoire of tricks.
He was a delight to watch during Leicester’s ascent. Upon receiving the ball and facing up to a packed defence, while many would rush, Mahrez was content to bide his time. An opening may not appear immediately but with a little feint, a sly turn and a swivel of the hips, he’d be away. Defenders would fling themselves to the ground in anticipation of blocking a shot or cross, and rise to find that he’d disappeared in an entirely different direction.
Mahrez’s 17 goals and 10 assists were proof of a more ruthless and productive streak. Named as the PFA Player of the Year, there was plenty of competition for his signature. Mahrez agreed a new contract with Leicester on condition that he would be allowed to move on at the end of the season. While Leicester progressed to the Champions League quarter-finals they performed desperately in the league and Mahrez was one of those held responsible, accused of failing to reapply himself.
His intention to leave was announced over the summer, with Arsenal, Chelsea, Roma and Barcelona reported to be keen. Unlike many other players who were desperate to move elsewhere (Alexis Sanchez, Philippe Coutinho and Virgil van Dijk most notably), Mahrez didn't sulk or go on strike. He played on, feeling that after an indifferent year the best chance of forcing a transfer was through impressing on the pitch.
It was an admirable stance. The ongoing uncertainty may have played its part but Mahrez was out of sorts in the early weeks of the season. Still tricky and difficult to suppress, he wasn’t making a difference as regularly in the final third. Perhaps alleviated of that distraction at last, he’s come into his own recently.
Mahrez has scored or set up a goal at least once in each of his last five games and is back to his captivating best. His strike in the 2-2 draw with Stoke showed all the hallmarks of his best work, slipping away from one defender on the right wing, cutting inside another and curling home with his left foot.
IIt was an apt way to mark his 150th appearance for Leicester but you sense there won’t be too many more, particularly if he continues like this. Except for opposition defenders left trailing in his wake, everyone would be well-advised to enjoy the experience while it lasts.
